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happines s an d hope s fo r th e future. ”
    Bu t al l tha t ha d changed . He r clothe s wer e to o bi g for he r no w an d he r hai r wa s a ruffled , wir y mess . W retched , a s he r mothe r woul d sa y .
    “Di d yo u eve r drea m yo u coul d jus t ru n away? ” she onc e aske d Poll y . Sh e aske d Poll y lot s o f thing s thes e days. “ Y o u kno w , lik e i n tha t movi e Shirle y V alentin e wher e she pack s u p an d leave s an d ha s thi s wonderfu l holida y fling b y th e se a an d drink s nic e cocktail s o n th e san d an d tops u p he r ta n whil e leavin g al l he r care s behind? ”
    “I’ d lov e t o d o a Shirle y V alentine. ” Sh e remembered hearin g he r mothe r an d he r aun t sa y tha t wit h a giggle whe n the y wante d t o moa n abou t thei r othe r halves , but o f cours e the y neve r would . The y neve r could .
    Gin a neve r though t sh e woul d eithe r . Sh e ha d a young chil d t o loo k afte r . An d him . Y es , him . T revo r . He r husba n d o f te n year s an d seve n hours . I f h e kne w tha t sh e ha d to g o nex t doo r yesterda y an d as k fo r mil k an d a lif t t o the sho p she’ d neve r hea r th e en d o f it , bu t i t wa s on e o f those quic k decision s sh e ha d t o make . Di d sh e ris k havin g no mil k fo r hi s te a whe n h e go t home , an d wors e again havin g nothin g prepare d fo r dinner ? O r di d sh e swallow he r prid e b y goin g nex t doo r an d askin g Poll y fo r a neighbourl y favour ? Again .
    Gin a reall y like d Poll y . Sh e ha d on e o f thos e face s that everyon e liked . A lovel y , lovel y girl , a s he r mothe r would hav e said . A rea l lad y .
    Polly ’ s husban d Jame s wa s a decen t sor t too . Gina woul d se e hi m comin g hom e fro m hi s wor k ever y da y at th e sam e time , lik e clockwork , an d Poll y alway s ha d a delicious smell coming from the kitchen or on sunny days sh e migh t b e ou t hangin g he r washin g o n th e lin e whe n he pulle d int o th e driv e i n hi s nic e Mercede s Benz .
    It ’ s no t lik e sh e watche d thei r ever y mov e a t all . She wasn ’ t a nose y person . Mayb e just , well , a bi t enviou s you coul d sa y .
    Sh e wishe d he r husban d woul d com e hom e a t th e same tim e ever y da y , wit h n o liquo r o n hi s breath , no r snar l on hi s face , no r grave l i n hi s voic e whe n thing s weren ’ t the wa y h e like d them .
    Sh e ha d pu t make-u p o n tha t da y fo r hi m coming hom e sinc e i t wa s thei r anniversar y . She’ d pu t th e hot brus h an d straightener s throug h he r hai r to o an d eve n put o n a skirt . Sh e hadn ’ t wor n a skir t fo r ages . He r nic e cloth e s didn ’ t reall y fi t he r an y more .
    “ Y o u loo k prett y , Mamm y , ” he r so n ha d tol d he r . He ha d a loo k o f sadnes s i n hi s eye s whe n h e sai d it , lik e he kne w tha t sh e wa s tryin g he r bes t an d lik e h e kne w tha t it woul d al l b e fo r nothing .
    She’ d bough t a fe w steak s dow n a t th e Spa r and cooke d the m t o T revor ’ s likin g and , althoug h sh e hated whe n h e ha d a drink , sh e eve n pu t a fe w beer s i n th e fridge fo r hi m jus t t o mar k th e occasion . Thei r weddin g day seeme d lik e yesterda y an d sh e remembere d tha t horrible feelin g tha t sh e ha d mad e a terribl e mistak e movin g north wit h T revo r Humphries . Sh e wa s a Dubli n gir l a t heart an d i t ha d take n he r a t leas t tw o year s t o settl e int o her ne w lif e u p Nort h wher e everythin g wa s differen t – differen t accents , differen t mone y , differen t culture s an d a totall y differen t wa y o f lif e tha n wha t sh e wa s use d to .
    Everythin g wa s slowe r her e ou t i n th e countryside . Y es, th e villag e o f Cranmor e ha d everythin g a youn g family woul d nee d an d ther e wa s a grea t sens e o f communit y but i t wa s ver y strang e t o b e plunge d int o th e bac k en d of nowher e whe n yo u wer e use d t o th e brigh t light s