Page 100 of The Honeymoon Affair

She’s always there. That’s going to have to change too.

The sun has come out by the time I arrive at the port, the breeze is light and the salty tang of the sea hasn’t yet been overpowered by the stench of diesel from the trucks. I’m on form-filling duty, although I keep getting distracted by the spectacular view over the bay, where the sun is glinting off the waves while the seabirds wheel and shriek against the blue sky. I’m betting that if Charles had a view like this he’d find it inspiring. All the same, it doesn’t inspire me to fill in the forms any quicker. When I eventually finish, I check the screen to see if the ferry due in is on schedule. It’s about to dock, so Natasha and I drive to the terminal, where we take up our positions and wait for the cars and trucks to roll off.

It’s routine. There’s a lorry with inadequate paperwork and an overladen minivan, both of which I send to be checked, but there’s nothing that needs to be scanned and nothing to set our spidey senses on edge. I return to the office and some more form-filling, and await the next arrival, a cargo vessel from Rotterdam, which might be a little more challenging.

The longer evenings are becoming very noticeable now, and although it’s dark by the time my shift is over, I don’t feel as though the day is completely done. Because I spent the night with Charles, I drove Dad’s car to Terenure and into work today. I’ll definitely need to consider my transport options when I’m living in Riverside Lodge because the cross city traffic is always a nightmare, but at least next week is an early shift so if I stay with Charles, there won’t be any problem getting in to the port for 5 a.m. The commuters will still be in bed.

As it turns out, I don’t stay with Charles the following week. He’s deep into his edits and rewrites, and as he likes to work at night, it wouldn’t be convenient for either of us for me to be there. But he asks me to come to his on Friday afternoon and stay for the weekend. I’m finished at lunchtime, so I pick up a takeaway sandwich and eat it at home, then have a shower and change into my comfy jeans and a sweatshirt. I think about using Dad’s car again, but the council is doing its best to discourage cross-city traffic, and every route across the river is horrible, so I get the bus instead. It’s definitely not any quicker, but I put my earbuds in and listen to music, so I’m quite chilled by the time I get to Riverside Lodge.

It takes Charles ages to answer the door, and he apologises, saying that he’s in the middle of a Zoom call with Sydney and telling me to make myself at home. I lug my overnight bag to the bedroom, and then go back downstairs again to make coffee for both of us.

I tap on his study door and he looks around in surprise. As I leave the mug beside him, I can see and hear Sydney talking about Ursula, who’s the grandmother and the final corpse in Charles’s manuscript. She’s suggesting that Ursula be a little less hateful, but I really liked her as a horrible character, and I’ll say that to him later. Sydney might be his editor, but I’m his beta reader and his fiancée, which surely counts for something! Charles thanks me for the coffee, then waves me away. I leave him to it.

As I walk into the living room, my eye is caught by movement in the garden, and I see Ariel stepping out of the mews. My fingers tighten around the mug as I watch her talking on her mobile while also looking up at the house. She’s probably putting a deal together for one of her authors. Or maybe even finalising that TV series for Charles. I step back a little from the window so she can’t see me. We haven’t spoken since the time she came to the house to talk to him about his edits, and I’ve no desire to speak to her now. I appreciate that she works very hard for him, but she’s still his agent-slash-ex, and not as ex as she should be. I wish she wasn’t working from Charles’s back garden, but I’ve no idea how to change that. At least, not yet.

I finish my coffee, then stretch out on the comfortable sofa. I put my earbuds in my ears, and despite the fact that I’ve ingested a mug of caffeine, Adele lulls me to sleep within minutes.

I wake up with a start when I sense there’s someone in the room, watching me.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Ariel. ‘I did say your name when I came in, but there was no answer. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘Were you looking for something?’ I sit up and slide the buds from my ears.

‘Friday wine moment.’ She raises the bottle of red she’s holding. ‘Freedom Friday is a bit of a tradition between me and Charles. And now you, of course.’

‘I’m not sure we’ll be having wine moments every Friday.’

‘It’s nice to unwind after a long week,’ she says. ‘I’m sure you feel the same. You were asleep after all.’

‘Because I started work at five o’clock this morning.’

‘Poor you.’ She gives me a sympathetic look as she goes to the sideboard and unerringly finds a silver corkscrew. ‘You could definitely do with a glass in that case.’

I’m about to say no, but she’s already opening the bottle.

‘I bet you’re hungry too,’ she says as she hands me the glass. ‘Stay there. I brought some cheese. It’s in the kitchen.’

Before I have the chance to say anything, I’m alone again. I’m not pleased that I’ve allowed Ariel to go downstairs to the kitchen and fetch the cheese as though I was her guest. I should have told her I’d get it myself.

I’m properly alert by the time she returns with three varieties of cheese, neatly arranged on a large plate, alongside a selection of crackers and some grapes.

‘Thanks,’ I say as she sits opposite me.

‘So how’s it been going?’ she asks.

‘Work? Very busy.’ I wilfully misinterpret her question.

‘You and Charles,’ she says. ‘It’s all very exciting.’

‘It will be when we set a date,’ I say. ‘And that depends on your divorce.’

‘Now that the solicitors are on the case, I’m sure it’ll happen pretty soon. Then time will whizz by to your wedding. As soon as you start planning, it comes at you like an express train. Oh, but you know that already!’ She covers her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot. You called off your own wedding. It must have been a difficult time,’ she adds.

‘It wasn’t what I expected,’ I admit. ‘But subsequently it became a relief.’

‘All the same . . .’

‘And if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met Charles, so there’s a silver lining,’ I continue. ‘Anyway, like everyone says, better to call it off before than have it go wrong after, like you.’

---