Chapter One

The community hall quivered with gabble.

Rosetta Melki sat back and watched Darren, farther down the row, absorbed in reading the poem she’d volunteered to recite. She turned to Royston at her left to ask who would read first. He was busy talking to another poet in the row ahead of them, a frail and sombre-eyed woman named Valerie, his arms waving about with frenetic verve. Darren, on the other side of Royston, signalled to her. He reached past forward-leaning Royston to hand the poem back and gave a thumbs-up.

Eadie, seated at Rosetta’s right, related an incident concerning her runaway shopping trolley and an unfortunate carton of eggs. Halfway through, she lapsed into silence. Something, or someone, had caught Eadie’s attention.

Rosetta nudged her elbow. She hadn’t yet asked Eadie about her date three days earlier. ‘So, what’s your verdict on him?’

Eadie turned back to her. ‘Very nice. Oh, you meanhim?’

Rosetta chuckled. ‘Who did you think I meant?’

Eadie gazed around the room and shrugged. ‘He was there a minute ago.’

‘The guy you went on a date with?’

‘Course not! Why do you think that?’

‘Think what?’

‘That he’d behere?This is the last place Carl would want to go. Carl’s not in the slightest bit sentimental.’ Eadie lifted a coy shoulder and stared blissfully into the distance, a tell-tale sign she was falling for someone. ‘And I think it’s kind of nice that he’s not poetic.’

‘Tell me more!’

Eadie cheerfully confessed that she and her date had very little to talk about. Despite this, there’d been an all-consuming attraction between them, so much so, it had overridden the need for words. ‘I mean, talking isn’t everything, is it?’ Eadie rationalised.

‘No, I guess it’s not,’ Rosetta said, trying in vain to adopt Eadie’s point of view.

‘I mean, it’s how they make us feel. That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?’

‘Well, yeah. Absolutely.’

‘And he isn’t down-putting with me.’

‘Eadie, darl, that can’t be considered a plus. It should be a given. Please promise me you’ll stop undervaluing yourself.’

‘No, what I really mean to say i