Page 142 of The Honeymoon Affair

Our eyes meet. I’m pretty sure we’re both thinking the same thing, but I’m really not sure if it’s a good idea.

‘Finished here?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’

‘Want to come back to mine?’

‘No strings,’ I say.

‘Not even a thread.’

He pays the bill and we walk quickly back to his building.

We don’t even bother going upstairs.

Chapter 39

Iseult

Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things as you.

J. D. Salinger

It’s easily an hour after the end of Charles’s event by the time we get to Miller’s, where his sister-in-law, Rachel, greets us and brings us to a reserved table in the adjoining restaurant.

Both the pub and the restaurant are old-style, with interior brick walls, dark furniture, gold fittings and an enormous fire blazing in the hearth. Although it’s a gas fire, there’s a big basket of peat on the granite hearth and a faint background smell of peat that’s warm and homely. The walls of the restaurant are covered in old posters from Irish travel and transport companies, some extolling the virtues of touring Ireland by coach and others suggesting that passengers allow the train to take the strain. I’m fascinated by them and by the times they evoke.

The table is set for four – Pamela, Ellis, Charles and me – but Rachel takes a chair from an unoccupied table and sits down to chat with us while one of the waitresses brings pitchers of iced water.

‘So, Izzy, tell us about yourself.’ Both her voice and her expression are warm and friendly.

I embark on my well-worn life story and am gratified that she seems genuinely interested in my job at the port.

‘It sounds fantastic,’ she says. ‘I’d love the power.’

‘I’m not that powerful.’ I laugh.

‘Oh, but you are,’ she insists. ‘Being able to stop a six-axle lorry. Being able to search it. Being able to arrest someone.’

‘I don’t do any arresting,’ I correct her. ‘But if a case is brought, I often end up having to give evidence in court.’

She’s hugely thrilled by this.

‘It’s like a TV drama,’ she says.

I don’t want to burst her bubble by saying it’s far less streamlined than a TV drama and that I’m always terrified I’ll say the wrong thing. You have to be really careful to answer questions exactly the right way so that the case doesn’t get thrown out on a technicality. It’s happened, though thankfully not to me.

‘There’s so much material there for your next crime novel.’ She turns to Charles, who shakes his head and says he’s not sure about another crime novel.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ says Rachel. ‘A Caribbean Calypso will sell millions.’

‘You haven’t read it yet,’ he says.

‘But it sounds fantastic,’ she tells him. ‘And you know how much I like crime fiction.’

‘Who are your favourite crime writers?’ I ask.

‘All of them.’ She grins. ‘My mum has a huge collection of Ngaio Marsh passed down from her own mum. I love Ian Rankin, and Jo Spain too. And Corinne Doherty and Janice Jermyn.’