Page 76 of Love Unlocked

‘What’s that?’

‘A dictionary entry with a photo of you beside it. Someone who has an intense, irrational fear of love.’ She says it so sweetly, without even blinking or pausing to take a breath.

‘Wow,’ Melody says, kind of stunned. ‘There’s a word for it?’

‘There’s a word for everything,’ Prunella says, leaning her elbows on the bridge and looking out into the river. ‘Cheat. Liar. Home-wrecker. He called me every name under the sun this morning.’

Ed looks up briefly then takes a few steps away to give them space.

‘Slut?’ Melody asks, and Prunella smiles and shakes her head. ‘Maybe he’ll save that one for dinner time. He’s hurt, Prunella. You hurt him.’

‘I know,’ she says, sighing. ‘He’s not the only one.’

Melody recognises there’s a difference in the reasons Jasper and Prunella are hurt but doesn’t bother pointing it out. She has enough of her own thoughts to ponder.

She can’t stop thinking of Al, of last night, how he’d arrived at her place in record time after their call. The sweet hours of the early morning, the delight of his skin on her skin, his eyes on her, his hands on her, his lips on her. Everything of him on her. She can’t get enough of him, of how he makes her feel. Happy and cherished. And safe. She recalls how he’d kissed her before leaving for work. She doesn’t want to belong in a group that dislikes love, she had gone that way for freedom, not to be labelled and boxed in.

‘Prunella,’ she whispers.

Prunella moves her ear to Melody’s mouth.

‘I’ve met someone,’ she whispers even more quietly.

‘Who?’ Prunella asks, mouth in a shock-shaped wide grin.

‘The bridge guy,’ she whispers, and then feels a bubble of a giggle in her throat.

‘Al? The bridge guy?’ Ed shouts from the other end of the bridge.

Melody had forgotten about the mic on her lapel.

‘You can’t use that, Ed,’ Melody says angrily.

‘Oh my god …’ Prunella says, hands to her mouth. ‘The listeners have to know.’

‘No, they don’t. Shut up.’ Melody’s happiness slithers away.

‘The bridge guy, who removed all the locks,’ Ed says, joining in, ‘and the anti-love girl have fallen in love.’

‘No. Guys, shut up, you can’t use that,’ she says, annoyed now that she said anything. Melody walks off the love lock bridge in a huff, while they both laugh.

Melody and Prunella have special permission to record in Kilmainham Gaol during their visit. The first stop on the tour is the prison chapel where an impassioned tour guide solemnly tells the story of what happened to Grace Gifford and Joseph Plunkett on 3 May 1916.

Dressed in tweed trousers and a flannel shirt reminiscent of the clothes men wore during the time, their tour guide delivers his speech.

‘Joseph Plunkett was the Irish Republican Brotherhood’s Director of Operations and one of the signatories of the proclamation of Independence during the Easter Rising. The Easter Rising was an armed insurrection in Ireland, launched by Irish Republicans fighting British rule. Their intention was to form an independent Irish Republic. Sixteen of the Republicans were executed and as a result of the executions, and the nature of the executions, it led to a rise in popularity for Irish independence.

‘Grace Gifford learned of Joseph Plunkett’s sentence to be executed on the third of May. She made the necessary arrangements to be married, and went to Kilmainham Gaol. At eleven p.m. she was brought into the chapel, Joseph Plunkett was brought down the steps in handcuffs and they stood before the priest. They weren’t allowed to speak to one another. They married on the third of May close to midnight and then he was taken away. Joseph Plunkett was executed by firing squad in the prison’s Stonebreakers’ Yard on the fourth of May. They were both just twenty-eight years old.’

The guide allows a silence to descend on the crowd as they soak in the story and the setting. Then he leads them on to the cells. Melody hangs back in her pew, looking at the altar, imagining Grace and Joseph, so young, so full of ideals and courage and belief, wanting to be united before he died. They must have been terrified.

Melody and Prunella stand opposite each other at the altar where Grace and Joseph would have stood.

‘This is heartbreaking,’ Prunella says, taking Melody’s hand, then, ‘I wonder what she wore.’

‘They weren’t allowed to talk to each other,’ Melody says. ‘Imagine.’ They imagine.

‘Jasper and I got married in the Maldives. We had the reception on the beach with thirty of our friends and family. The next morning we were lying in a chalet by the sea. Instead a few hours later Joe was dead and Grace was alone.’