Roxi still insists on wearing her heels even now, after all this time on the island. I don’t know how she manages it. But Roxi is adamant she just can’t get comfortable in flats, and since she doesn’t venture much further around the island than her cottage, O’Connell Street and the pub, she seems to get away with it. The only time she relents is on her regular visits up to see Eamon, when she borrows a pair of Niall’s trainers to ‘travel’ in. ‘I need you to distract Caitlin for a few minutes tonight,’ I whisper, glancing over at her sitting with Dermot across the other side of the pub. ‘Why?’ Roxi asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. ‘Because I need to get Dermot on his own.’ Roxi’s eyes shoot open as wide as saucers. ‘Oh, do you, now?’ she says, putting her hands on her hips. ‘And does Conor know about this?’ ‘Not like that! I need to talk to him about something, and Caitlin won’t leave his side just lately,’ I look down at the bar for a moment, ‘especially when I’m around,’ I mumble.
