Page 241 of The Missing Sister

‘Thank you. I apologise again.’

‘Seriously, there’s no need. It’s actually very muggy in here as well, not a feeling we tend to be used to in Ireland, is it?’

‘No.’

‘Global warming and all that... A few offices I know are beginning to put in air conditioning. Can you believe it?’

‘No, considering I spent most of my childhood not being able to feel my toes. Anyway,’ I said as I turned to him, unable to keep my own eyes away from his, yet terrified that if I looked into them again, I’d be as lost as I had been the first time I’d met him.

‘Anyway,’ he smiled. ‘It’s very good to see you after all these years.’

‘And you.’

‘You haven’t changed a bit, you know,’ he said.

‘Thank you, but I doubt you’d be saying, “Jaysus, Merry, you’ve turned into an old bat!” now, would you?’

‘I suppose I wouldn’t, no,’ Peter chuckled.

‘Just for the record, you haven’t changed either.’

‘That’s an out and out lie. My hair is almost entirely grey—’

‘At least you have some, which is more than can be said for a lot of men your age.’

‘My age, is it, Merry?’

‘You are two years older than me, remember? In your sixties...’

‘Yes, I am, and feeling every bit of it too. I may look all right on the outside, but I certainly can’t run around a pitch kicking a ball like I used to do. Now I have to hit it against a wall in a squash court – the game of city-dwelling old men,’ Peter added as a waiter approached our table.

‘Can I offer you any breakfast?’ he asked us. ‘It’s last orders, I’m afraid.’

Peter looked at me and I shook my head.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive. I’ll nibble on the biscuits they brought with the tea.’

‘I’ll have a croissant and a double espresso, to soak up the whiskey,’ he said with a raise of his eyebrow as he reached for his glass. ‘Sláinte!’

‘Sláinte,’ I parroted without picking mine up. My head had spun once this morning and I certainly didn’t want it to happen again.

‘So, how have you been?’ he asked me.

‘I...’ We caught each other’s glance and, given the situation, we both began to chuckle at the ridiculous inanity of the remark.

‘I’ve been... well, I’ve been fine, really,’ I said, and then we chuckled some more, which turned into a good few minutes of uncontrollable laughter.

We both ended up wiping our eyes on our napkins, which meant I had probably smudged my mascara all over my face, but I was past caring. One of the reasons Peter had so attracted me in the first place was his sense of humour, which, levelled against the intensity and seriousness of Bobby, had been a relief. Peter had worn life lightly back then.

When the waiter returned with the coffee and croissant, we both tried to get ourselves under control.

‘Do you think he’s going to chuck us out for bad behaviour?’ I whispered.

‘Possibly. My reputation here will probably be destroyed it’s close to my office, so I use the hotel for the occasional meeting – but who cares?’