Page 137 of The Last Kiss Goodbye

‘Just a few miles along the coast,’ replied Jonathon. ‘I’ve called him to say what time we’ll arrive.’

Him. She felt light-headed. A wave of nausea hit the back of her throat, and she opened the window to let in some fresh salty air.

The road hugged the coast, and Ros tried to relax as she took in the view: broad white sandy beaches studded with rocks that stretched into clear blue ocean; fields and bog in every shade from moss green to ochre. Clouds gathered in the sky until they smudged into the rugged hills known as the Twelve Bens on the horizon. It was quite magical, a land of lochs and legend, and Ros thought it appropriate that she should be meeting him here.

She talked about the old days with Jonathon, and the recent deaths of some of their mutual friends: her wonderful flatmate Sam, who had moved to Cape Town many years before, and the glamorous art dealer Zander whom she had met at Jonathon’s dinner party.

‘We just need to turn left here,’ said Jonathon, not entirely convincingly, after twenty minutes or so. He looked at his watch and frowned. ‘I do believe we are a little early. The drive didn’t take as long as I thought it would.’

They stopped outside a small single-storey house. Ros had seen many of these properties since her arrival in Galway – typical Irish low-slung cottages with rough whitewashed walls and slate roofs. Wide lawns stretched on either side and down towards the sea. She sighed at the view. She was glad Dominic lived with a view like this.

They all got out of the car. The iron gate creaked as Jonathon pushed it open.

Ros held b

ack for a moment, a thousand questions whirling in her mind.

She had practised her opening line to Dominic countless times since Jonathon had told her that he was still alive, and every single word now seemed inadequate. She remembered the woman she once was, smart and opinionated and – yes, she could admit this now – attractive, but she wondered how much of that woman existed now, how much of her was left to love.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ asked Jonathon, smiling.

Feeling a swell of panic, Ros looked at Abby, then back at Jonathon, who gave her an encouraging nod and knocked on the door.

They stood and waited, but there was no reply. Ros hardly dared to breathe.

‘He’s probably round the back,’ said Jonathon quite casually.

They took the path around the house to the garden. Ros saw him immediately, standing with a spade at the far end of the lawn.

One of the few benefits of old age was that her distance vision was very good. He turned and wiped his brow, and she could see the look on his face as he spotted her. His expression of pure joy fortified her so that she did not turn around and run away.

As they began to walk towards one another, everything else slipped away, until she could see only Dominic.

He was wearing a worn navy sweater, dark trousers and gardening boots. He was still tall; age had done nothing to diminish his impressive physique, as it had with so many of her contemporaries. His hair was thin and white, his face deeply lined, but as he came closer, she could see that his clever grey eyes, those eyes that she loved, were as clear and alert as she remembered.

‘Ros,’ he said simply, his eyes glistening.

‘Hello, Dom,’ she replied, feeling a single cold tear escape down her cheek.

He exhaled, and she could hear his breath shuddering, as if he was choked with emotion.

‘I suppose you have a few questions.’

She couldn’t remember a single one of her over-rehearsed lines. She could only feel a strong surge of love and frustration.

‘A few,’ she nodded, biting her lip to stop more tears from falling.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, touching her jaw with his fingertips.

‘Not any more.’ She wanted to unbutton her coat and show him the red dress.

‘I’m old, not blind,’ he smiled, keeping his hand against her face.

She closed her eyes, unable to rid herself of that sharp and sour sense of injustice.

‘Why did you leave me, Dom?’ she said, opening them again, her hand curling into a fist. ‘Why didn’t you at least let me know that you were alive? I’ve spent over fifty years mourning you. You left me in the dark, believing you were dead.’

Her anger swelled like an ocean wave that peaked then crashed as it hit the shore. Her breath stuttered and she looked into his eyes, and she couldn’t be angry for a second longer.