My phone dinged a text somewhere on the carpet of the bedroom. I reached out to get my trousers from the floor and removed the phone from my pocket. Eight texts, seven of which I didn’t hear coming in. I checked the time, six forty five. We’d been there nearly six hours, but it only seemed like minutes.

The last text was from Suzie Orr.

Hi Tony, I just heard you had an accident in Galway. Are you ok? Can you call me or text an update? When are you coming home? I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, all kinds of trouble here that I’ll tell you about when we talk. 

Take care, 

Suzie O. 

xx

I killed the phone and put it away again as Lynn slept on. She looked so peaceful there beside me and her face held a smile which I hadn’t noticed previously. I got out of bed and used the bathroom, when I came back she was sitting up and yawning.

“Hey there, angel face,” I said.

“Hi, Tony,” she smiled, “did I sleep long?”

“About thirty minutes, not long.”

“Would you like some tea or something to eat?”

“What have you got?” I asked.

“Probably nothing,” she laughed.

“Let’s go out and get something,” I suggested, “a takeaway of some sort.”

“Good idea,” she said, “but I should tidy myself up a bit first.”

“I should too,” I said, “someone ravaged me all afternoon and evening.”

“Was that me?” she asked.

“Yes, it was, and you were fantastic.”

She ran into the bathroom, and I heard the shower running. I picked my clothes up from the floor and folded them across a chair near the bed. I was straightening out the bedcovers as she returned to the room, naked and drying her hair with a towel.

“Don’t do that, Tony,” she said, “I’ll change the bedding while you’re in the shower.”

She switched a light on, smiled and stuck her tongue out at me. I doubled up with laughter and took her in my arms.

“Do you want me to apologise?” I asked.

“No, you were right, Tony,” she said and pulled me in for a kiss.

“Say that again,” I said, “I was distracted and didn’t hear you.”

She laughed and I smiled as I left her for the shower. When I came out she was dressed in a shortish, predominantly green, floral dress. I appraised her bare arms and low-cut neckline and the damp uncombed blonde hair that cascaded around and over her head. The bedding had been replaced and tucked in tidily. I crossed the room and dressed quickly as she fiddled with the chord on her hairdryer.

“You look beautiful, Lynn,” I said, as I admired her slim form sitting on the side of the bed, a hairbrush fighting the tangles in her hair as she prepared to assault it with a hair dryer.

“Thanks,” she said, “so what are you thinking for this evening, Tony?”

“Let’s take a walk around Eyre Square and find somewhere to eat,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“There’s Pura Vida on Shop Street,” Lynn said, “I’d kill for an omelette, and theirs are the best around.”

“That sounds good,” I said.

Ten minutes later we found ourselves sitting in a cosy café, nursing a flat white for me and a tea for her, and waiting for a couple of omelettes to arrive. As they were delivered to the table, I felt a text vibrating the phone in my pocket. I took it out and apologised to Lynn. It was from Deco Carroll.

Who’s the blonde?

No one you’d know.

Is that where you’ve been all day?

Pretty much.

Jammy bastard!