Page 151 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘What about your office?’ he asks suddenly, looking out of the window. ‘The mews is part of our settlement deal. Are you looking for something in lieu now that you’re moving out?’

‘Only your good wishes.’

‘You have them, of course,’ he says. Then he gives me a half-smile and says he always knew it would happen one day. That I’d sell the business and send him a letter telling him what an exciting time it was for the company and for him. Except that he thought we’d still be together as a couple when it did.

‘I might get you to write that letter for everyone else.’ I smile at him. ‘You’d phrase it much better than I could. OK, I’ve got to go now, Charles. I’ll set up the meeting with Tristan, and of course we’ll be in touch before I leave for the States.’

‘I’m glad for you, but I’m not good with change,’ he says.

‘And yet since Winter’s Heartbreak, there’s been lots of change in your life,’ I point out. ‘You became a massive bestseller. Your work has been made into movies. Everyone in the trade loves you. I love everything you’ve achieved. Where we went wrong, you and I, was getting involved romantically. I fell for you, but I shouldn’t have.’

‘I fell for you too,’ he reminds me.

‘We were high on success,’ I say. ‘That wasn’t the right basis for love.’

‘But I did love you.’

‘I loved you too.’

‘Yet not now?’

‘This might sound a bit crazy to you, Charles. I do still love you, in a way. But I love myself more.’

‘I see.’

‘For a while you absolutely were the most important man in my life and for a long time I hung on to that,’ I tell him. ‘It’s taken time, but I’ve got over it. And I’m glad you’ve found someone else. Someone who can’t wait to share the rest of your life.’

He takes up the champagne bottle and pours some more champagne into my glass. ‘To us,’ he says, raising his own glass.

‘To us,’ I echo, as I tip mine against it.

Iseult

We’re in the pub for my leaving drinks. A lot of people have come to wish me well in my new job at the airport, and even though I’m really sad to be leaving the port, I’m very excited about the move and the opportunities it might bring.

‘Here you go.’ Natasha puts another bottle of beer in front of me.

‘This is my last,’ I tell her. ‘Senior executives like me can’t get pissed with the plebs.’

She sticks out her tongue and we both laugh.

I haven’t had that much to drink. I’ve mixed quite a few non-alcoholic beers with the alcoholic variety, and although I’m tired, it’s because it’s been a long day and I was out last night with Charles. We went to dinner after yet another book launch – who knew there were so many writers in Dublin – and stayed up late when we got back to Riverside Lodge because there was a documentary on TV about Ian Rankin, who Charles has met a number of times and which he wanted to watch. I asked when there’d be a documentary about Charles himself and he told me that Ariel had tried to get someone interested after the Booker but that he probably wasn’t exciting enough.

‘You’re exciting enough for me,’ I said, and promptly yawned, which made him say that the excitement of knowing him had clearly worn off.

‘Not entirely,’ I said. ‘But I think I’ll head up to bed. I’m knackered and I have a busy day tomorrow.’

‘I’ll be up later,’ said Charles. ‘And I promise not to wake you.’

He lied about that, because he put his arm around me when he got into bed and I snuggled up against him, and then I turned around and kissed him, and next thing I knew we were making love, and honestly, it’s so good with him that I feel elated every single time. We talked about inconsequential things for a short time afterwards, but, like every man I’ve ever known, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep. To be fair, I nodded off soon afterwards too. He was still out for the count when I got up this morning, and although he’s texted me twice, I’ve been too busy to do anything more than send emojis in reply.

‘Any news on the wedding?’ asks Natasha, who’s plonked herself down beside me.

‘We’re working on it,’ I say. ‘I was too scared to do anything before their divorce came through, but his solicitor said it should be done and dusted by next week. And then it’s full steam ahead.’

‘You’re so lucky,’ she says. ‘He’s the sweetest guy, even if he is on the older side. I’m reckoning that means lots of the kinks are already ironed out.’

‘Oh, he has some of his own.’ I grin. ‘But no better woman than me to sort him.’