Epilogue

A dedication – 17, Stanley Street, Ballybrock, October 2001

Biddy stood in the hallway and held the package in her hands. It was finally here. She breathed in and out slowly and deeply, savouring the moment. This could well be the best day of her life. There had been several occasions over the past twenty-one months since meeting Terri when she had had that very same thought, but this one, surely, surpassed them all. Outside, a man from the estate agency was sticking a ‘SOLD’ sign across the ‘FOR SALE’ board in the garden. Tomorrow, Terri would be leaving for Greece. Biddy had already booked her ticket to visit in March. Her first trip abroad. And this time next week, Cove Cottage would be hers, and Bertie would be her foster cat.

She closed the front door and went into the kitchen. The autumn sun streamed in through the window and bounced off the walls, the pale yellow paint making the room seem even brighter. The young couple who had bought the house fell in love with the yellow walls and blue cobalt cupboards the first time they viewed the house. They said it reminded them of the Greek island where they had spent their honeymoon.

Shaking slightly, she sat at the table – a mug of tea and a Kimberley biscuit on a tray in front of her – and tore open the wrapping of the package. A handwritten note fell out.

 

Dear Biddy,

Well, here it is, the first edition hot off the press. A job well done, I think. Congratulations. You’re a star!

Be in touch soon re the launch.

Best wishes,

Marcus

 

Biddy turned the book over in her hands a few times, and traced the seagull on the blue and grey cover with her fingertips. That was her drawing. Hers. And there were many more inside. She opened the book slowly and turned over the first page, and then the second. There it was. That’s what she’d waited to see. She took a sip of tea from her mug, cleared her throat and read aloud:

 

For my father, with all of my love. For Penny Jordan, wherever she may be.

And for B.W.s everywhere.

Biddy Weir.