Chapter 6

      I am early. I couldn’t settle at home and I’ve been ‘ready’ for at least an hour, so I thought the best thing to do was just come here and wait. I do feel like it’s an awkward blind date, even though I know it couldn’t be anything more different. I chose my outfit carefully, a little too carefully perhaps, but I think I’ve got just about the right balance. Not too dressy, not too casual. The sun was shining and there was a hint of summer in the air as I drove here, which made my white jeans and pale-blue chiffon blouse feel just perfect for the occasion.

      The occasion… what on earth is this occasion anyhow?

      I am pondering this to myself when I see Flo come into the bar and she takes a seat and then hides her face behind a menu. I catch her eye and shake my head in laughter. She orders a drink from the waiter and then gives me the thumbs-up. I may have wound her up for doing this but now she is here I actually do feel a bit more settled. I am meeting a total stranger in very emotional circumstances, after all, so it’s good to know she has my back, should it, for whatever reason, go horribly wrong.

      I get the waiter’s attention and ask for a tall gin and tonic. I need some Dutch courage now – more than I’ve ever done in my entire life.

      ‘Are you there yet?’ It’s a text from Simon.

      ‘I’m here,’ I message back. ‘I’m early.’

      ‘Good, so am I,’ he replies. The waiter returns and is just placing my drink on the table when I see him.

      Jesus.

      It really is him. Not Jesus, no, but Simon Harte, Lucy’s brother, walking towards me right here, right now. I smile. I breathe. I glance over at Flo who is staring at him like he is the Second Coming.

      I wave. He waves back and smiles and runs his hand through his hair, looking as nervous as I feel.

      This is so, so surreal. I stand up to greet him. He is tall. Boy, but he is tall. I swallow back a rainbow of emotions and I can’t hear anything now. The muffled sounds of cutlery and background music and people chatting fade into the background. Everything sounds and looks like a blur. I can see nothing and I can hear nothing. Nothing. Only him. It’s like time has stood still and it is making me very dizzy.

      ‘Maggie,’ he says, in his soft Scottish brogue. ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.’

      His eyes fill with tears and mine do too. He keeps saying my name, whispering it and then he kisses me lightly on the cheek.

      ‘I… I have to say thank you, Simon,’ I mumble. ‘I just really want to say thank you to you and your family for what you have done for me.’

      He stands back, his hands holding my wrists lightly and his eyes dancing, like this is truly a moment he has been longing for as long as I have. I am afraid that if he lets go of me I might fall. The room is really spinning. I focus on his face. His beautiful, smiley, friendly face.

      ‘You’re real,’ he says. ‘You’re Maggie.’

      I feel my heart beat. My lonely, borrowed heart. I think of Lucy and I wonder if she is watching. Does she feel what I feel, what he feels – her very own big brother, who she left behind when she was much too young, has found me? A piece of her is inside of me. I feel guilty and grateful all in one big blow of emotion.

      ‘I can’t believe you are here,’ I manage to whisper.

      For some reason it’s like my own world finally makes sense, like I make sense now. It is Lucy Harte’s brother and his family is the reason I am still alive.

      ‘I can’t believe I am here either,’ he says and I know he means it. ‘I can’t believe I am here… with you. This is… this is… pretty amazing.’

      I feel so unsteady. If Flo looks at me now she will be calling an ambulance as I’m bound to be a deathly shade of white. He purses his lips and breathes in long and hard, then exhales and smiles and his eyes wrinkle and I can tell he is finding this just as overwhelming as I am.

      ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ he says. ‘I have wondered about you forever. I think we should sit down. Will we sit down?’

      ‘My heart is racing I’m so totally nervous,’ I mutter and when he looks at me I can see the pain etched in his eyes as the reality of my heart, Lucy’s heart, racing sinks in for him.

      He guides me to my seat and I sit down slowly, then take a sip of my drink, hoping it will bring me round. We stare at each other again and smile and stare and smile and stare.

      ‘You look different to what I expected,’ he says. ‘Not in a good way or a bad way, just different. God, I am waffling again.’

      ‘Well, you look… you look more tanned than I expected,’ I say with a nervous giggle. ‘Have you been on holiday? I feel very pasty and… well, Irish in comparison.’

      He takes a seat opposite me, still smiling, still staring.

      ‘Yes, I thought I’d mentioned that,’ he says and his eyes wrinkle again.

      ‘No, you didn’t,’ I reply. I am shaking, but hearing his voice is soothing and I get a real sense of familiarity just being in his company.

      I am nervous. I am emotional and I am in awe of this moment. It’s like I am meeting a long-lost family member, someone who has been looking for me and I have been looking for them for years and years and we are finally finding each other and it’s so darn overwhelming.

      I signal the waiter’s attention again and Simon orders a beer as he tells me of a week in Greece he spent just after his father’s funeral. He went alone, which impresses me greatly.

      ‘Do you travel alone much?’ I ask. ‘I’m a bit of a chicken when it comes to going