purse my lips and he puts his hands to his face in sorrow. Oh God, we should have met somewhere more private. This is all too much for a public bar. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say.
‘Are you okay, Simon? Do you want to go somewhere else? We could go to the park? For a walk?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ he says, taking a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I kind of knew this would happen but… sorry, it’s just a big moment for me, that’s all. I’m very raw right now, Maggie.’
Of course he is. It all makes perfect sense. His little sister, to lose her so young must be the worst thing ever and now watching me, living, breathing, drinking, talking, sitting opposite him. This is a big moment for him, for sure. And for me.
‘I hope I’m doing a good job with her heart,’ I whisper, ‘but to be honest, it’s been broken quite badly lately and I really need to fix it.’
He looks up at me with tears in his eyes. I shouldn’t have said that.
‘Let’s eat first,’ he says as the waiter finally brings our food. ‘Look, I am going to make this meeting positive because it is positive and there’s no point us both sitting here blubbering over our food.’
He attempts a smile.
‘It would be a shame to put this to waste,’ I say, looking at the delicious steaming dishes that are set before us.’
‘It surely would. Bon appetit, Maggie,’ says Simon Harte. ‘I won’t bombard you with everything too soon, but I have something for you that might, just might, help fix your broken heart. Or at least point you in the right direction.’
After a fairly quiet but relaxed dinner, we decide to move on to somewhere new and as we walk through the evening sunshine I feel the warm fuzziness of the alcohol kicking in.
Before we left the bar, I gave Flo a discreet ‘thumbs-up’ when she finally had finished her burger followed by what looked like a chocolate sundae. She paid her bill and when Simon left the table to use the bathroom I sent her a text to tell her that he was very nice and very attached so that she could settle in the knowledge that I wasn’t about to jump his bones and then find myself embroiled in yet another messy relationship in which I try to sprint before I can even crawl.
She replied with a lecture on not drinking too much and not to divulge too much information on the first meeting, but I could tell she was much more content about me spending the evening with Simon, as was I. Plus she had just herself indulged in her mighty chocolate sundae so she was, indeed, very happy and content with her full belly, never mind my predicament.
If only Simon Harte knew how much I had allowed my errant husband to tramp all over Lucy’s precious heart and leave me in such a mess. If only he knew…
We walk past city hall and I do my best tourist-guide impression, pointing out different streets and hotels and interesting facts about Belfast. I tell Simon about Jeff and Saffron, about my job and how our break-up affected me, despite my denial at the time. I don’t mention my growing alcohol problem, of course. He doesn’t have to know everything.
‘Sorry but Jeff sounds like a right plonker,’ says Simon as we cross the street and head towards the Europa Hotel. I suggest the Europa because it’s less noisy and not as stuffy as any city centre pub and we can have a proper chat in civilised surroundings without a live band or jukebox ringing in our ears. Plus they have a pianist in the lounge which I think will complement the mood nicely.
‘That’s one word for him. A plonker,’ I joke back. ‘I can think of a whole range of others. But maybe he is happy now. Maybe I didn’t make him as happy as I wanted to. I am trying to believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason. Mind you, at this stage of the game, I have to believe in something.’
We go inside, take a seat in the piano lounge and order our drinks – Simon sticks with his Budweiser and I decide to treat myself to a Cucumber Cooler from the cocktail menu.
The pianist tinkles the ivories in the background at just the right volume and after a brief argument about what he was playing, which Simon wins – it was not a nineteenth- century classic, which I suggested, but a rather toned-down funky version of an Ellie Goulding song – we finally get down to business.
‘Do you want to tell your side of the story, or shall I go first?’ he asks. ‘I’d love to know how a girl in Ireland needed a new heart and I’m sure you want to know what happened on our side of the pond.’
Since mine is much less complicated, I decide to take the reins.
‘Well, rather than bore you to tears with my whole life story, which is completely irrelevant anyhow, I will fast-forward to when I was sixteen and where our story begins, when I was apparently a very healthy, normal teenager.’
‘You were normal?’ he says in mock surprise. So he has a sense of humour…
‘Very funny,’ I say and have a sip of my delicious cocktail. The mood is slowly loosening up with the help of good old alcohol. ‘I do share a birthday with Amy Winehouse. Same year and everything.’
‘Cool,’ he says. ‘That’s pretty impressive. Can you sing?’
‘In the shower I’m a rock star.’
‘Snap,’ he says with a smile, and then it’s time to tell him my story.
I haven’t really spoken to anyone in depth before about how I became the keeper of a borrowed heart – well, it might seem like party piece-style entertainment, but most people shy away from the subject as quickly as their eyes divert from the light scar on my chest – should they spot it – so talking to Simon, who is all ears and who has a genuine interest, is a whole new experience.
‘I was quite the athlete back then,’ I explain. ‘I won most of the prizes on every sports day and the farmhouse was like a shrine to my achievements on the track and field.’
‘Really?’ he says, seriously surprised. ‘I had visions of you as a really sick kid for years, or someone who was born with a heart condition.’
‘Not at all,’ I explain. ‘Had I had any warning signs, what unfolded would have been less of a shock. It all happened very suddenly. Totally out of the blue.’
‘Go on.’
‘I have one brother, John Joe, who is a bit older than me,’ I explain. ‘My parents had gone to the market one Saturday and left us both to take care of things on the farm, just as they had been doing for years.’
The piano man is playing an Elton John favourite and in other circumstances I would stop to listen, but I know if I don’t keep going I will never finish and I want to hear about Lucy as soon as possible and get my side over and done with.
‘John Joe and I, well, we used to be really close before I got sick. Looking back, I think he resented me for not only coming along and ruining his status as an only child, but also for then totally stealing his thunder for taking most of my parents’ attention when I almost died,’ I explain,
