Isabel was walking towards me with her head down. She was holding a black umbrella above her head. It was half shielding her face, but there was no doubt it was her. She’d emerged from that lane halfway up the hill in a rush. She’d pass by on the other side of the street in seconds if I didn’t attract her attention. I put a few Turkish notes under my glass and ducked out from under the awning. Within seconds I was drenched. And then, for a moment, I thought I was mistaken, that it wasn’t Isabel, but as she came nearer I knew I’d been right. But what was she doing here? She owed me an explanation, at the very least. The rain was beating down on me but I didn’t care. When she was a few feet away she looked up and gave me a wide amazed smile. ‘What are you doing here, Sean?’ She stopped in front of me. ‘Enjoying the weather. Lovely, isn’t it? What happened to you this morning? Sleep late, did you?’ ‘Didn’t Peter tell you?’ I should have guessed. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I hadn’t been told too.
