Page 34 of Date with Destiny

I picture Daniel, standing there before me at the wake a few weeks ago. I re-feel all those weird bubbly feelings I felt seeing him. For the first full minute, neither of us said a word. We just stared at each other.

I couldn’t really understand how he was there. I wondered if it was a coincidence – if he’d wandered into that very pub, into that very wake, at random, and simply happened into me.

He eventually spoke.

‘I had to come,’ he’d said, nerves jangling in his voice. ‘I’m so sorry about Diane.’

He reached out for me then and I fell into his arms, crying for the first time that day. I hadn’t cried as they brought in the coffin, I hadn’t cried during the service, I hadn’t cried during Celeste’s eulogy, but in that moment outside the pub loos, everything hit me all at once. All that loss and all that sadness. I had sunk into his familiar arms, smelling his familiar smell, and sobbed for what felt like a really long time.

When we at last drew apart, I saw him properly: the man I’d loved, who had left me so abruptly and so horribly, but I couldn’t feel any anger.

‘Thanks for coming,’ I’d said, wiping my face, embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the service,’ he said then, his eyes darting side to side. I understood immediately that hewas trying to avoid my family – Celeste, probably, in particular. It wasn’t a coincidence that he’d found me here by the loos, away from everyone else.

‘Can we talk…’ I began and he shook his head.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t stay.’ He’d hopped from foot to foot, nervous energy bouncing off him. Full of beans, even on the darkest of days. ‘I have, er, work,’ he added and I recognized his excuse voice.

‘Oh,’ I nodded, hope draining out of me. He hadn’t come to beg me to take him back. He hadn’t even come to apologize.

Whyhadhe come?

The woman before me continues speaking now, telling me about cards and cups, but I struggle to focus, thinking of Daniel and that bird above, closer now, ready to poo.

She’s right, I feel so stuck. I know I shouldn’t be obsessing over what has happened or what might happen, but how do you do that? How do you let go? How do you not fear what’s to come? Especially when it feels like it’s been laid out for me my whole life.

Minutes later, as we pay the woman and walk away, I turn back. ‘Do you have any specific predictions for me?’ I ask desperately. ‘Do you have, like, six predictions or something?’

From her seat, the woman looks at me quizzically.

‘That’s not how it works!’ Myfanwy hisses. ‘Thanks again, Benediata!’ she calls, hurrying me away.

We head back to the hotel in silence, each of us thinking about our own readings.

I have to admit, it was an interesting experience. She was interesting, the cards were interesting. And I believed in what she said. Or I believed thatshebelieved in it. But god, how are you supposed toknow?

‘Did it help you feel any better about things?’ Toni asks nicely.

I look out across the water as we walk.

‘I don’t know,’ I tell her honestly, wondering to myself when thelife-changingpart of this trip is supposed to happen. And that’s when the bird poos on me at last.

Fair enough, I think, and keep walking.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It’s the last night of our holiday, and since nothing life-changing has happened, we’ve decided to get life-changingly drunk.

We are delighted and appalled in equal measure to find an Irish bar down the road from our hotel. So now we’re drinking horrible Guinness in a horrible pub, full of horribleBrits Abroadshouting at one another about foreigners.

It at least makes me less homesick.

A group of lads in their twenties – also drunk – make their approach to our corner table.

‘All right?’ the leader smirks. ‘Want a drink, ladies?’

‘No thanks, kid,’ Myfanwy slurs, struggling to be heard over the offensive music. ‘We’ve got loads of drinks.’

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