Part 23 (1/2)

'I did it for you,' he said. 'I knew it was insane. I was halfway through when I realized what I was doing, but the minute you said it should be a bedroom, I could think of nothing else but you, here, in this room. I hope you like it.'

I loved it.

I love it so much I even manage to keep it tidy. It has become the perfect s.p.a.ce in our house; it is a centre of calm where I often lie during the day to reflect on how lucky we've been. It is where Mike often finds me when he comes home from work and we lie there together for hours, just talking. It was where I asked Mike when he first fell in love with me.

'I'm not sure,' he said, 'but I remember an Easter weekend you were home from college I'd say you were in Third Year because you were doing your nut about exams '

'Third year?' I interrupted. 'That long ago?'

'That long ago.'

'Wow! And you never got tired of me in all that time?'

'No. I never got tired of you...'

'Anyway, I was in Third Year...'

'Yes, and you brought this pimply weed of a boyfriend home with you, and all weekend I couldn't work out what my problem was with the guy. He was utterly harmless, yet I found myself mentally plotting his slow and painful death...'

'I remember him Conor Moloney. I dumped him after exams. I was only using him for his notes.'

'I'm sure he's never got over it.'

'Anyway, you were plotting his death...'