27.

Christmas Eve
Grafton Street, the busy pedestrian street in Dublin city, was awash with people doing their lastminute shopping. Hands were fighting to grab the last remaining items on shelves, budgets and all thought had gone out of the window as rash decisions were made according to availability and time, and not necessarily with the recipient in mind. Presents first; for who, later. For once not keeping up the pace of the panicked around him, Lou and Ruth held hands and slowly wandered the streets of Dublin, allowing others to rush ad push by them. Lou had all the time in the world. Ruth had been more than taken aback when hed arranged to meet her after his earlier brusque no, but, as usual, hadnt asked any questions. Shed welcomed his new change with a silent delight but with equal amounts of cynicism that shed refuse to ever speak aloud. Lou Suffern had much to prove to her. They walked down Henry Street, which was filled with market stalls as hawkers cleared the last of their stock: toys and wrapping paper, leftover tinsel and baubles, remote-control cars that ran up and down the street, everything on show for the last few hours of manic Christmas shopping. On the ever-changing Moore Street, alongside traditional market stalls, displays included a lively mix of Asian and African stores. Lou brought Brussels sprouts from the sharptongued stall-sellers whose stream-of-consciousness outpourings were enough entertainment for anyone. They attended early Christmas Eve Mass and ate lunch together in the Westin Hotel in College Green, the historic nineteenth-century building, formerly a bank, that had been transformed to a five-star hotel. They ate in the Banking Hall, where Pud spent the entire time lopsided with his head tilted to the ceiling, watching in awe the intricately hand-carved ornate ceiling and the four chandeliers that glistened with the eight thousand pieces of Egyptian crystal, shouting over and over again just to hear the echo of his voice in the high ceiling.