Page 120 of Forever, Maybe
Near the pond, a dark-haired man—about Danny’s age—crouched beside a little girl, talking to her earnestly. She listened for a moment before declaring she hated him and running off, leaving him to straighten up with a long-suffering sigh.
“Weans, eh?” Tadgh remarked with a shrug. “Nothing I’ve ever seen has convinced me they’re a good idea.”
Nell blinked back tears, her chest tightening. Easy for Tadgh to say. Men like him—and Danny—never had the choice stolen from them. Mother Nature let them keep their options open indefinitely. Danny might not even wait for the ink to dry on his decree nisi before throwing himself into the dating pool again, hooking up with some late twenty-something or early thirty-something and procreating left, right and centre.
She cleared her throat, pushing the bitterness aside. “Not working today?” she asked as they circled the small pond.
Tadgh shook his head. “Got a few days off. Me and Grant were supposed to head to Tenerife for a week, but he bailed last minute—got a better offer. Thought it might be a bit tragic to go on my own.”
Nell pulled the loaf of bread from her bag, tearing off pieces and crumbling them for the ducks. Male friendships baffled her. If Stephanie ever cancelled a planned holiday at the last minute, they wouldn’t speak for a month—and that went both ways. But Tadgh didn’t seem remotely fazed.
She tossed some crumbs onto the water, and the ducks swarmed, wings flapping noisily. Coco, to her credit, stayed rooted to the spot, watching them intently but obeying Tadgh’s firm command to sit.
“She’s better behaved than I expected,” Nell said, glancing at him.
“Only when it suits her,” Tadgh replied with a grin.
For a moment, as the ducks quacked and Coco whined softly in excitement, Nell felt the knot in her chest loosen just a little.
Tadgh returned the question about work, and Nell explained her freelancing career as a graphic designer.
“How’d ye get into that?” he asked, curious.
She shared her journey: art school, the graphic design course she’d taken in her final year because a tutor had bluntly pointed out that most art students wouldn’t make a living selling their work. Then came the years in the public sector, followed by the private sector, until she eventually packed in the nine-to-five and struck out on her own.
“It’s a lot safer takin’ that chance when ye’ve got a partner wi’ a steady income, though,” Tadgh commented.
Oh, hell. The thought hit her like a punch. She’d been so focused on worrying about living alone after all those years with Danny, she’d barely considered the financial reality. House prices were astronomical. Even if she and Danny split the proceeds from selling their home and she had enough for a flat, how would she manage the bills? Her freelance income swung wildly from feast to famine.
The grim truth loomed: she might have to go back to full-time office work.
Yet another thoroughly depressing aspect of divorce. Stephanie, who’d once worked with a life coach, liked to say there were bright sides to everything. “We’ll make a list of them,” she’d promised, when Nell had told her about the divorce. They had yet to complete it, and Nell wasn’t holding her breath.
Perhaps sensing she was close to tears again, Tadgh changed the subject. “Ken something? Staffies are such a misunderstood breed. Folks think they’re vicious, dangerous dogs, but there’s no such thing as a dangerous dog. Only shite owners who dinnae ken how to train them properly.”
Their walk brought them full circle around the pond and back to the playground. A pink-and-white ice cream van had parked by the railings, its side emblazoned with a painted rosette proclaiming its wares “award-winning.” It was one of the pricier vans that frequented the park, but its reputation was well-earned.
Dodgy dementia comments aside, Tadgh had been kind to her, so she offered to buy him an ice cream. They wandered over to join the growing queue.
Tadgh resumed his dog chat as they waited. “The staffie I had before Coco was such a wee sweetheart. I’d leave her alone wi’ my nephew when he was just a wee yin, and she was nae threat to him at all. Now, Ryan and Coco are the best o’ friends too. He often dog-sits for me and Grant when we manage to get away on holiday. Mind you, he’s a busy lad these days—working for your husband. Mebbe you’ll meet him at some point.”
Nell blinked.Ryan, Tadgh’s nephew.
“Working for my husband?” she asked slowly.
“Aye. On one o’ the sandwich vans that go round the industrial estates. He even did a few o’ the festivals this year.”
Danny employed several young people on a casual basis, and she didn’t know most of them. But the mention of Ryan working forStuffed!set her mind racing.
“Can I see that picture of your nephew again?” Nell asked.
In the months since that time she had seen the photo, she had tucked the incident away in the back of her mind, meaning to bring it up with Daniel but never following through. And then everything else had happened.
Tadgh shot her a curious look, something flickering behind his eyes—maybe he was dying to ask about the missing wedding ring—but he simply said, “Aye, sure.” He scrolled through the photos on his phone, thumb hovering briefly before he handed it over.
It was the same photo as before.
Nell stared at it, blinking, her mind racing but unable to make sense of the pieces falling into place.
