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Lucy typed in the last figure and printed out the sheet. The shop was doing well, but she was keen for Billy to invest in a good coffee machine. The mark-up on hot drinks was huge, and as the only shop in a mile radius, with a huge footfall of locals passing on their way to the bus stop or railway station for work, or mothers heading to the park with young children or school kids coming infor coffees or hot chocolates, she reckoned they could make easy money.

But Billy was resistant to change. He said fancy coffee was a ‘fad’ and that he had no time for all that ‘grande latte’ nonsense. If Lucy had her way, she’d have a little deli counter in the shop selling takeout coffees, scones and rolls. They’d clean up. But Billy liked things the way they were, newspapers and groceries.She’d have to get Jenny and Sarah to help persuade him.

Lucy locked the shop and went upstairs to get changed. She was looking forward to seeing Damien. It was her little lifeline, and the sex wasn’t bad either. She put on her red lacy underwear and the black dress that made her feel good.

All those years ago in college, when she was nice to him because she felt sorry for him, she’d never haveimagined he’d end up being her casual-sex person. She’d never fancied him – she was far too busy ogling Tom and his green eyes, stupid girl that she was. She’d have been better off going out with Damien, marrying him, and them becoming the two top barristers in Dublin. Instead, she’d got herself pregnant and trapped in a corner shop while Damien had gone on tohave a glittering career and washugely respected in the legal field. She’d make damn sure that Kelly ended up with a smart man who was kind and decent and going places, not a pathetic coward who shirked his responsibilities.

When she’d left college to have the babies and never gone back, she’d hidden herself away, ashamed at her failure. She didn’t want to keep in touch with her old classmates and hear how well they were doing.She was heartbroken, and devastated by her stupidity and failure. She’d wanted to cocoon herself in her new world of motherhood and nursing her dying mother.

Damien had tried to reach out to her, but she’d pushed him away. Then, five years ago, when she was celebrating her birthday in a bar in town with Sarah and Jenny, she’d bumped into him. Literally. She’d been on her way to the Ladies whenshe’d bumped into a tall, dark man in an expensive suit. He’d apologized and had turned to let her pass when he’d said her name.

Lucy had looked up and there was Damien. The same, but different. More confident, more self-assured. Not better-looking, but more groomed. They’d got chatting. Lucy was a bit drunk and lapped up his attention. She could see he still fancied her. He kept complimentingher. It was like rain during a drought. Lucy had gone for so long without male attention and affection that she didn’t realize how much she craved it. She flirted and giggled and touched his arm. At one in the morning when he’d asked her to come home with him, she’d gone willingly. The sex had been good. Lucy wasn’t looking for the universe to shake, she just wanted decent sex and companionship.

Damien was single, incredibly busy, and happy to have Lucy in his life. He didn’t want a wife or nagging girlfriend, he wanted Lucy.

Lucy loved listening to Damien talk about his cases. She soaked up the world he lived in, the one she’d wanted so badly. He sometimes asked her advice, which made her feel ten feet tall, and as if she was still a tiny bit involved in the legal world.

Lucy lookedat her roots in the mirror. She’d need to book in with Sarah next week: the grey was beginning to show. She heard Dylan walking down the stairs, and put her head around the door. ‘Hey, where are you off to?’

‘Just meeting some of the lads.’

‘From the football team?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, but you’ve got a match tomorrow. Make sure you’re home early.’

‘Relax, Mum. It’s fine.’

Dylan raced down thestairs, almost knocking Jenny over.

‘Easy there, tiger, where’s the rush?’

‘Sorry,’ he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m late.’

‘Don’t let me keep you from whoever she is,’ Jenny said.

Dylan raced out of the door without replying.

Lucy was putting on her mascara when Jenny came in. ‘Who’s the girl?’ Jenny asked.

‘What girl?’

‘The girl Dylan’s gone to meet.’

Lucy frowned. ‘He’sjust seeing some of the football guys.’

Jenny snorted. ‘Yeah, right. With half a bottle of aftershave on him, I doubt it.’

Lucy ignored her sister. Jenny didn’t have a clue. Dylan was at the age where boys overdid the aftershave all the time. It was new to them and they hadn’t learnt the art of subtlety. Besides, Dylan never lied to her.

Kelly, on the other hand, had been lying. Mrs Moran,the nosy cow, had come into the shop and told Lucy she’d seen Kelly with Sean at the cinema.

Lucy applied some more lipstick. Jenny took it from her and threw it in the wastepaper basket.

‘Stop that. I like it.’