Page 73 of Love Unlocked

In bed just after midnight, Al tries to quieten his mind so that he can sleep. He still hasn’t heard from Melody since he texted her before going away. He was grateful his brother Seán had taken his phone from him when he was recording a drunken message but he didn’t appreciate him keeping his phone for the entire weekend and only giving it back to him when he got into the car to drive home. He had been devastated to see no missed calls or messages from Melody. He shouldn’t have been. She told him what she was, or wasn’t looking for. He is disappointed, but he has to stop raising his expectations and expecting the same from others.

Just as he’s pining for Melody and planning how to organise a repeat of their lovemaking in this bed, she calls him.

‘If it isn’t the Night Owl herself,’ he says, smiling into the phone.

‘Hoot hoot,’ she says, that husky tone making him further melt into his bed, propped up by six pillows. A weekend away from her was too long.

‘Let me guess. It’s midnight. You’re alone.’

‘Sounds about right.’

‘Just to get this straight. This is Al, the bridge guy, just in case you think you called that other guy that you call for spontaneous sex. Though I’m also available for that.’

‘Just wondering if we could talk?’

She sounds timid. He listens closely to the background.

‘Are you walking outside?’

‘Yeah, I’m going to be honest with you, Al, because you know I always am.’

It’s what he has appreciated about her from the start.

‘I decided quite recently, mere minutes ago, that I’m a grown-up and I have to start acting like one, so I started making my way home.’

‘At this hour, that’s not such a wise grown-up decision to make.’

‘I have my scooter.’

‘Ah, well every superhero needs a get-away vehicle.’

She laughs. ‘Yes, but you made an excellent point. Now I’m not so sure of myself and you said to call when I need you so …’

‘Absolutely,’ he says, hearing the rare sound of vulnerability in her voice and sitting up between the six cushions he’s cocooned in. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m going over a bridge actually. It made me think of you. The one that links Tara Street Station to Liberty Hall.’

He’s relieved to hear she’s almost home. ‘You don’t know the name?’

‘What weirdos know the names of bridges?’

‘You’ll like this one, it’s called Butt Bridge.’

She laughs and then turns serious. ‘Ooh, weirdo alert, a man’s coming near me, keep talking to me.’

‘Don’t look him in the eye, walk fast. Butt Bridge, named after Isaac Butt, leader of the Home Rule movement. It opened in 1879, the year he died.’

‘Looks in pretty good condition to be that old.’ She sounds distracted, nervous.

He smiles. ‘It used to be a swing bridge, they replaced it with a concrete one in 1932. And the bridge above your head, don’t look up or you’ll crash, the one with the train line, is called Loopline Bridge. Is the weirdo gone?’

‘Yep, he went the other way. I’m almost over the bridge now.’

He imagines her taking a right and passing The Custom House. She’s almost home.

‘My flatmate Claire isn’t home tonight so you know how I hate that. I was staying with Prunella but that got weird very fast so I got out of there.’

She sounds shaken.