Page 107 of The Honeymoon Affair

I don’t know what to say. I glance over to Charles, who was initially listening to my conversation but who’s now been nabbed by a woman in a multicoloured knitted dress and matching wool hat.

‘I’m not sure—’ I begin.

‘Please, Izzy. When you see me, you’ll understand. The broken collarbone is on the other side to the wrist and thumb. I’m a mess.’

He’s putting me in a really difficult position, but what else can I do? I tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.

I drop my mobile back in my bag. The crowd around me has shifted and there’s no sign of Charles and Woollen Hat Woman. Or Ariel. I spend a minute or so scanning the room for him, but with no luck. I walk out into Kildare Street, and with the kind of good fortune that rarely happens in real life, there’s a cab approaching. I hail it and hop in.

Ariel

Charles is helping himself to another glass of the frankly horrible wine when I return with Mairin McGettigan, who immediately begins to talk to him about a potential new show she’s thinking of, featuring outstanding locations in Irish literature. Winter’s Heartbreak was set in Mayo, and she thinks it could be a stunning place to include.

‘Although,’ she adds, ‘I’m not sure if we’d get the chance to film it under a blanket of snow like in the book.’

‘We haven’t had a heavy snowfall in a long time,’ says Charles. ‘Maybe it’s due.’

‘We’ll be filming in April.’ Mairin grins. ‘I’m hoping it won’t be snowing then. But you’re interested?’

‘Of course,’ he says.

‘You might like to have him on your show before then,’ I say. ‘His new book, out later this year, is brilliant.’

‘I heard it was a murder mystery,’ says Mairin. ‘Interesting. And I’d love to talk about it, but we’ve got everything we need for this season. I’ll definitely keep you in mind for next season, though,’ she says to Charles. ‘And we’ll be in touch about the new programme.’ Then she moves off into the thinning crowd.

‘That’s great,’ I say. ‘A slot for both her book show and the new one.’

He doesn’t answer. He’s staring at his phone and frowning.

‘What’s up?’

‘Iseult,’ he says. ‘She had to go.’

‘Not her thing? I didn’t really think so, to be honest. Even for me, Seán Óg—’

‘It’s not that.’ He gives me an impatient look and shows me his texts.

So sorry. I got a call about a medical emergency and had to dash. Couldn’t find you to explain. I’ll give you a shout later

‘What type of emergency?’ I ask.

He taps the question into his phone.

Motorbike accident

Someone you know?

Steve

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Charles, and he begins to type furiously.

Doesn’t he have someone else to call? It’s hardly appropriate for you to help him

Apparently his parents are away this week. He needs some help. I’ll fill you in when I’ve seen him

I look at him and raise my eyebrows.

He starts to type, then erases it. He starts again. Erases it again. Eventually he types: