ps: it's a big chap coming up :) with a lot of emotions... hope everyone enjoy, i've been away because life once again has been cray cray. enjoy your reading, babes.

It was eight o'clock when Irene finally drove up her driveway, and it was still bright. She smiled, the world never felt quite so depressing when it was bright. She had spent the day with Seohyun chatting about her adventures in Australia. Seohyun had changed her mind at least twenty times in the space of a few hours about whether or not she should call Mathew in Australia. By the time Irene left, Seohyun was adamant she would never speak to him again, which probably meant she had already called him by now.
 

She walked up the path to the front door and stared at the garden curiously. Was it her imagination or did it look a little tidier? It was still a complete mess with weeds and overgrown shrubs sprouting up everywhere, but something about it looked different. The sound of a lawnmower started and Irene spun around to face her neighbor, who was out working in his garden. She waved over to thank him, presuming it was he who had helped her, and he held his hand up in response. It had always been Seulgi's job to do the garden. She wasn't necessarily a keen gardener, it was just that Irene was an incredibly unkeen gardener, so somebody had to do the dirty work. It had been agreed between them that there was no way in the world Irene was going to waste her day off toiling in the sand. As a result, their garden was simple; just a small patch of grass surrounded by a few shrubs and flowers. As Seulgi knew very little about gardening, she often planted flowers during the wrong season or put them in the wrong place; they just ended up dying. But even their patch of grass and few shrubs now looked like nothing more than an overgrown field.

When Seulgi died, the garden had died along with her. This thought now reminded Irene of the orchid in her house. She rushed inside and filled a jug with water and poured it over the extremely thirsty-looking plant. It didn't look very healthy at all and she promised herself not to let it die under her care. She threw a chicken curry into the microwave and sat down to wait  at the kitchen table. Outside on the road she could still hear the kids playing happily. She always used to love when the bright evenings came; Mum and Dad would let them all play outside longer, which meant she wouldn't have to go  to bed till later than usual, and that had always been a treat for them all. Irene thought back over her day and decided it had been a good one, apart from one isolated incident . . .
 

She looked down at the rings on her wedding finger and she immediately felt guilty. When that woman had walked away from her, Irene had felt so awful. She had given her that look as if she were about to initiate an affair when that was the last thing in the world she would ever do. She felt guilty for even considering accepting her invitation to go for a coffee.
 

If Irene had left her wife because she absolutely couldn't stand her anymore, she could understand being able to eventually become attracted to someone else. But her wife had  died when they were both still very much in love, and she couldn't just fall out of love all of a sudden solely because she wasn't around anymore. She still felt married, and going for a coffee would have seemed like she was betraying her wife. The very thought disgusted her. Her heart, soul and mind still belonged with Seulgi. Irene continued to twist her rings around on her finger. At what point should she take her wedding ring off? Seulgi was gone almost five months now, so when was the appropriate time  to remove her ring and tell herself she wasn't married anymore? Where was the rulebook for widows that explained when exactly the ring should be taken off? And when it finally did come off, where would she put it, where should she put it? In the bin? Beside her bed so she could be reminded of Seulgi every single day? She plagued herself with question after question. No, she wasn't quite ready to give up her Seulgi yet; as far as she was concerned, she was still living.

The microwave beeped as her dinner was ready. She took the dish out and threw it straight into the bin. She had lost her appetite.
 

Later that night Yeri send her a text. “Switch Dublin FM on quick!” Irene raced to the radio and flicked the switch. “I'm Saeron Kim and you're listening to Dublin FM. If you've just joined us, we are talking about bouncers. In light of the amount of persuasion it took the 'Girls and the City' girls to blag their way in to the club Boudoir, we wanna know what your thoughts on bouncers are. Do you like them? Do you not? Do you agree or understand why they are the way they are? Or are they too strict? The number to call is . . .”
 

Irene picked the phone back up, forgetting Yeri had still been on the other end.
 

“Well?” Yeri said, giggling.
 

“What the hell have we started, Yeri?”
 

“Oh I know,” she giggled again. It was obvious she was loving every minute of it. “Did you see the papers today?”
 

“Yeah, it's all a bit silly, really. I agree it was a good documentary, but the stuff they were writing was just stupid,” Irene said.
 

“Oh honey, I love it! And I love it even more because I'm in it!” she laughed.
 

“I bet you do,” Irene responded.
 

They both remained quiet while they listened to the radio. Some guy was giving out about bouncers and Saeron was trying to calm him down.
 

“Oh, listen to my baby,” Yeri said. “Doesn't she sound so y?”
 

“Em . . . yeah,” Irene mumbled. “I take it you two are still together?”
 

“Of course.” Yeri sounded insulted by the question. “Why wouldn't we be?”
 

“Well, it's been a while now, Yeri, that's all.” Irene quickly tried to explain so she wouldn't hurt her friend's feelings. “And you always said you couldn't be with a woman for over a week!You always talk about how much you hate being tied down to one person.”
 

“Yes, well, I said I couldn't be with a woman for over a period of a week, but I never said I wouldn't. Saeron is different, Irene,” Yeri said breathily.
 

Irene was surprised to hear this coming from Yeri, the girl who wanted to remain single for the rest of her life. “Oh, so what's so different with Saeron then?” Irene rested the phone between her ear and her shoulder and settled down in the chair to examine her nails.
 

“Oh, there's just this connection between us. It's like she's my soul mate. She's so thoughtful, always surprising me with little gifts and taking me out for dinner and spoiling me. She makes  me laugh all the time, and I just love being with her. I haven't gotten sick of her like all the other girls. Plus she's good-looking.”
 

Irene stifled a yawn, Yeri tended to say this after the first week of going out with all her new girlfriends and then she would quickly change her mind. But then again, perhaps Yeri meant what she said this time; after all, they had been together for over several weeks now. “I'm very happy for you,” Irene added genuinely.
 

The two girls began listening to a bouncer speaking on the radio with Saeron.
 

“Well, first of all I just want to tell you that for the past few nights we have had I don't know how many princesses and ladies queuing up at our door. Since that bloody program was aired people seem to think we're going to let them in if they're royalty! And I just want to say, girls,  it's not going to work again, so don't bother!”
 

Saeron kept laughing and tried to hold herself together. Irene flicked the switch off on the radio. “Yeri,” Irene said seriously, “the world is going mad.”

The next day Irene dragged herself out of bed to go for a stroll in the park. She needed to start doing some exercise before she turned into a complete slob, and she also needed to start thinking about job-hunting. Everywhere she went she tried to picture herself working in that environment. She had definitely ruled out clothes stores (the possibility of having a boss like Yeri had talked her out of that one), restaurants, hotels and pubs, and she certainly didn't want another nine-to-five office job, which left . . . nothing. Irene decided she wanted to be like the woman in the film she saw the night before; she wanted to work in the FBI so she could run around solving crimes and interrogating people and then eventually fall in love with her partner, whom she had hated when they first met. However, seeing as though she neither lived in America nor had any police training, the chances of that happening didn't seem too hopeful. Maybe there was a circus she could join somewhere . . .
 

She sat down on a park bench opposite the playground and listened to the children's screams of delight. She wished she could go in and play on the slide and be pushed on the swings instead of sitting here and watching. Why did people have to grow up? Irene realized she had been dreaming of going back to her youth all weekend.
 

She wanted to be irresponsible, she wanted to be looked after, to be told that she didn't have to worry about a thing and that someone else would take care of everything. How easy life would be without having grown-up problems to worry about. And then she could grow up all over again and meet Seulgi all over again and force her to go to the doctor months earlier and then she would be sitting beside Seulgi here on the bench watching their children playing. What if, what if, what if . . .
 

She thought about the stinging remark Changmin had made about never having to bother with all that children nonsense. It angered her just thinking about it. She wished so much that she could be worrying about all that children nonsense right now. She wished she could have a little Seulgi running around the playground while she shouted at her to be careful and do other mummy things like spit on a tissue and wipe her pudgy little dirty face.

Irene and Seulgi had just started talking about having children a few months before she was diagnosed. They had been so excited about it and used to lie in bed for hours trying to decide names and create scenarios in their heads of what it would be like to be parents. Irene smiled at the thought of Seulgi being a mother; she would have been terrific. She could imagine her being incredibly patient while helping them with their homework at the kitchen table. She could imagine her being overprotective if her daughter ever brought a boy home.  Imagine if, imagine if, imagine if . . . Irene needed to stop living her life in her head, remembering old memories and dreaming impossible dreams. It would never get her anywhere.
 

Well, think of the devil, Irene thought to herself, seeing Changmin leaving the playground with Emily and Timmy. He looked so relaxed, she thought, watching him in surprise as he chased the children around the park. They looked like they were having fun, not a very familiar sight. She sat up on the bench and zipped up her extra layer of thick skin in preparation for their conversation.
 

“Hello, Irene!” Changmin said happily, spotting her and walking across the grass to her.
 

“Hello!” Irene said, greeting the kids as they ran over to her and gave her a big hug. It made a nice change. “You're far from home,” she said to Changmin. “What brings you all the way over here?”
 

“I brought the children to see Grandma and Granddad, didn't I?” he said, ruffling Timmy's head. “And we had McDonald's,” Timmy said excitedly and Emily cheered.
 

“Oh yummy!” Irene said, her lips. “You lucky things. Isn't your daddy the best?” she said, laughing. Changmin looked pleased.
 

“Junk food?” Irene questioned her brother.
 

“Ah.” He waved his hand dismissively and sat down beside her. “Everything in moderation, isn't that right, Emily?”
 

Five-year-old Emily nodded her head as though she had completely understood her father. Her big brown eyes were wide and innocent and her nodding head was sending her strawberry blond ringlets bouncing. She was eerily like her mother and Irene had to look away. Then she felt guilty and looked back and smiled . . . then had to look away again. There was something about those eyes and that hair that scared her.
 

“Well, one McDonald's meal isn't going to kill them,” Irene agreed with her brother.
 

Timmy grabbed at his throat and pretended to choke. His face went red as he made gagging noises and he collapsed on the grass and lay very still. Changmin and Irene laughed. Emily looked like she was going to cry.
 

“Oh dear,” Changmin joked. “Looks like we were wrong, Irene, the McDonald's did kill Timmy.” Irene looked at her brother in shock for calling his son Timmy but she decided not to mention it, it was obviously just a slip of the tongue. Changmin got up and threw Timmy over his shoulder. “Well, we better go bury him now and have a funeral.” Timmy giggled as he dangled upside down on his father's shoulder.
 

“Oh, he's alive!” Changmin laughed.
 

“No, I'm not,” giggled Timmy.
 

Irene watched in amusement at the family scene before her. It had been a while since she had witnessed anything like this. None of her friends had any children and Irene was very rarely around them. There was obviously something seriously wrong with her if she was doting on Changmin's children. 
 

“OK, we best be off,” laughed Changmin. “Bye, Irene.”
 

“Bye, Irene,” the children cheered, and Irene watched Changmin walk off with Timmy slung over his right shoulder as little Emily skipped and danced along beside her father while gripping his hand.
 

Irene stared in amusement at the stranger walking off with two children. Who was this man who claimed to be her brother? Irene certainly had never met that man before.

*  *  *

Sinb finished attending two clients, and as soon as they left the building she ran into the staff room and lit up a cigarette. The travel agent's had been so busy all day that she had had to work through her lunch break. Umji, her work mate, had called in sick that morning, although Sinb knew very well she had partied too hard the night before and any sickness she might have had was only self-inflicted. So she was stuck in this boring job all by herself today. And of course it was the busiest day they'd had in ages. As soon as November came with those horrible depressing dark nights and dark mornings and piercing winds and sheets of rain, everyone came running in the door booking holidays to beautiful hot sunny countries. Sinb shuddered as she heard the wind rattle the windows and made a note to herself to check for any special holiday deals.

With her boss finally out to run some errands, Sinb was really looking forward to her cigarette break. Of course, just her luck, the bell over the door sounded just then and Sinb cursed the customer entering the shop for disturbing her precious break. She puffed on the cigarette furiously, almost making herself dizzy, reapplied her glossy red lipstick and sprayed perfume all around the room so her boss wouldn't notice the smoke.

She left the staff room expecting to see a customer sitting behind the counter, but instead the woman was still slowly making her way to the counter. Sinb tried not to stare and began pressing random buttons on the keypad.
 

“Excuse me?” she heard the woman's weak voice call to her.
 

“Hello ma`an, how can I help you?” she said for the hundredth time that day. She didn't mean to be rude by staring at her, but she was surprised at how young the woman actually was. From far away her slumped figure looked elderly. Her body was hunched and the walking stick in her hand seemed to be the only thing preventing her from collapsing on the floor in front of her. Her skin was very white and pasty, as though she hadn't seen the sun for years, but she had big brown puppy eyes that seemed to smile at her. She couldn't help but smile back at her.
 

“I was hoping to book a holiday,” she said quietly, “but I was wondering if you could help me choose a place.”
 

Usually Sinb would have silently screamed at the customer for  making her do this unbelievably impossible task. Most of her customers were so fussy that she could be sitting there for hours with them flicking through brochures and trying to persuade them where to go when the truth was she really couldn't give a toss where they went. But this woman seemed pleasant, so she was glad to help. She surprised herself.
 

“No problem, ma`am, why don't you take a seat there and we'll search through the brochures.” She pointed to the chair in front of her and looked away again so she didn't have to watch her struggle to sit down.

“Now,” she said, full of smiles, “is there any country in particular that you would like to go to?”

“Em . . . Spain . . . Lanzarote, I think.”
 

Sinb was glad; this was going to be a lot easier than she thought. “And is it a summer holiday you're looking for?”
 

She nodded slowly.
 

They worked their way through the brochures and finally the woman found a place that she liked. Sinb was happy that she took her advice into account, unlike some of her other customers who just ignored every single bit of her knowledge. She should know what was best for them, it being her job and all.

“OK, any month in particular?” she said, looking at the prices.
 

“August?” she asked, and those big brown eyes looked so deep into Sinb's soul she just wanted to jump over the counter and give her a big hug.
 

“August is a good month,” she agreed with her. “Would you like a sea view or a pool view? The sea view is an extra thirty ,” she added quickly.
 

She stared into space with a smile on her face as though she were already there. “A sea view, please.”
 

“Good choice. Can I take your name and address, please?”
 

“Oh . . . this isn't actually for me . . . it's a surprise for my wife and her friends.” Those brown eyes looked sad.
 

Sinb cleared nervously. “Well, that's very thoughtful of you, ma`am,” she felt she had to add. “Could I have their names then, please?”
 

She finished taking her details and she settled the bill. She began to print the arrangements from the computer to give to her.
 

“Oh, do you mind if I leave the details here with you? I want to surprise my wife and I would be afraid of leaving papers around the house in case she finds them.”
 

Sinb smiled; what a lucky wife she had.
 

“I won't be telling her till July, so do you think it could be kept quiet till then?”
 

“That's no problem at all, sir, usually the flight times aren't confirmed till a few weeks before anyway, so we would have no reason to call her. I'll give the other staff strict instructions not to call the house.”
 

“Thank you for your help, Sinb,” she said, smiling sadly with those puppy eyes.
 

“It's been a pleasure, Miss.    ?”
 

“It's Seulgi.” She smiled again.
 

“Well, it's been a pleasure, Seulgi, I'm sure your wife will have a wonderful time. My friend went there last year and she loved it.” Sinb felt the need to reassure her that her wife would be fine.
 

“Well, I better head back home before they think I've been kidnapped. I'm not even supposed to be out of bed, you know.” She laughed again and a lump formed in Sinb's throat.
 

Sinb jumped to her feet and ran around the other side of the counter to hold the door open for her. She smiled appreciatively as she walked past her and she watched as she slowly climbed into the taxi that had been waiting outside for her. Just as Sinb was about to close the door her boss walked in and it banged against his head. She looked over at Seulgi, who was still waiting in the taxi to move out onto the road and she laughed and gave her the thumbs-up.

Her boss threw her a look for leaving the counter unattended and marched into the staff room. “Sinb,” he yelled, “have you been smoking in here again?” She rolled her eyes and turned to face him.
 

“God, what's wrong with you? You look like you're about to burst into tears.”

It was the first of July and Sinb sat grumpily behind the counter of Swords Travel Agents. Every day she had worked this summer had been a beautiful sunny day, and the last two days she had off it had pissed down with rain. Today was typically the complete opposite. It was the hottest day of the year, all her customers kept bragging as they strolled in, wearing their little shorts and skimpy tops, filling the room with the smell of coconut sun cream. Sinb squirmed in her chair in her uncomfortable and incredibly itchy uniform. She felt like she was back at school again. She banged on the fan once more as it suddenly stalled.
 

“Oh, leave it, Sinb,” Umji moaned. “That'll only make it worse.”
 

“As if that could be possible,” she grumbled, and spun around in her chair to face the computer, where she pounded on the keypad.
 

“What is it with you today?” Umji laughed.
 

“Oh, nothing much,” Sinb said through gritted teeth, “it's just the hottest day of the year and we're stuck in this crappy job in this stuffy room with no air-conditioning in these horrible itchy uniforms.” She shouted each word toward her boss's office, hoping he would hear. “That's all.” Umji sniggered. “Look, why don't you go outside for a few minutes to get some air and I'll deal with this next customer,” she said, nodding to the woman making her way in.
 

“Thanks, Umji,” Sinb said, relieved at finally being able to escape. She grabbed her cigarettes. “Right, I'm going to get some fresh air.”
 

Umji looked down at Sinb's hand and rolled her eyes. “Hello, can I help you?” she smiled at the woman.
 

“Yes, I was wondering if Sinb still works here?”
 

Sinb froze just as she was reaching the door and contemplated whether to run outside or go back to work. She groaned and headed back to her seat. She looked at the woman behind the counter; she was pretty, she decided, but her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head as she stared frantically from one girl to the other.
 

“Yes, I'm Sinb.”
 

“Oh good!” The lady looked relieved and she dived onto the stool in front of her. “I was afraid you might not work here anymore.”
 

“She wishes,” Umji muttered under her breath and received an elbow in the stomach from Sinb.
 

“Can I help you?”
 

“Oh God, I really hope you can,” the lady said a bit hysterically and rooted through her bag. Sinb raised her eyebrows over at Umji and the two of them tried to hold in their laughs. “OK,” she said, eventually pulling out a crumpled envelope from her bag. “I received this today from my wife and I was wondering if you could explain it to me.”
 

Sinb frowned as she stared at the crumpled piece of paper on the counter. A page had been torn out of a holiday brochure and written on it were the words: “Swords Travel Agents. Attn: Sinb.”
 

Sinb frowned again and looked at the page more closely. “My friend went there two years ago on holiday, but other than that it means nothing to me. Did you not get any more information?”
 

The lady shook her head vigorously.
 

“Well, can't you ask your wife for more information?” Sinb was confused.
 

“No, she's not here anymore,” she said sadly, and tears welled in her eyes. Sinb panicked; if her boss saw her making someone cry she would really be given her marching orders. She was on her last warning as it was.
 

“OK then, can I take your name and maybe it will come up on the computer.”
 

“It's Irene Bae.” Her voice shook.
 

“Irene Bae, Irene Bae.” Umji repeated her name after listening in on their conversation, “that name rings a bell. Oh, hold on, I was about to call you this week! That's weird! I was under strict instructions from Sinb not to ring you until July for some reason .,.”
 

“Oh!” Sinb interrupted her friend, finally realizing what was going on. “You're Seulgi's wife?” she asked hopefully.
 

“Yes!” Irene threw her hands to her face in shock. “She was in here?”
 

“Yes she was,” Sinb smiled encouragingly. “She was a lovely woman,” she said, reaching out to Irene's hand on the counter.
 

Umji stared at the two of them, not knowing what was going on. Sinb's heart went out to the lady across the counter, she was so young and it must be so hard for her right now. But Sinb was delighted to be the bearer of good news. “Umji, can you get Irene some tissues, please, while I explain to her exactly why her wife was here?” She beamed across the  counter at Irene.
 

She let go of Irene's hand to tap away at the computer and Umji returned with a box of tissues. “OK, Irene,” she said softly. “Seulgi has arranged a holiday for you and a Joy Park and a Yeri Kim to go to Lanzarote for one week, arriving on the twenty-eighth of July to return home on the third of August.”
 

Irene's hands flew to her face in shock and tears poured from her eyes.
 

She was adamant that she find the perfect place for you,” Sinb continued, delighted at her new role. She felt like one of those female television hostesss who spring surprises on their guests. “That's the place you're going to,” she said, tapping the crumpled page in front of her. “You'll have a fab time, believe me, my friend was there two years ago like I said already, and she just loved it. There are loads of restaurants and bars around and . . .” She trailed off, realizing Irene probably didn't give a damn about whether she had a good time or not.
 

“When did she come in?” Irene asked, still in shock.
 

Sinb, glad to help in her new role, happily tapped away on the computer. “The booking was made on the twenty-eighth of November.”
 

“November?” Irene gasped. “She shouldn't even have been out of bed then! Was she on her own?”
 

“Yes, but there was a taxi waiting outside for her the whole time.”
 

“What time of day was this?” Irene asked quickly.
 

“I'm sorry but I really can't remember. It was quite a long time ago–” “Yes, of course, I'm sorry,” Irene interrupted.
 

Sinb completely understood. If that was her wife, well, if she ever met someone worth becoming her wife, she would also want to know every single detail. Sinb told her as much as she could remember until Irene could think of no more questions to ask.
 

“Oh, thank you, Sinb, thank you so much.” Irene reached over the counter and gave her a big hug.
 

“No problem at all.” She hugged her back, feeling satisfied with her good deed of the day. “Come back and let us know how you get on,” she smiled. “Here's your details.” She handed her a thick envelope and watched her walk out of the room. She sighed, thinking the crappy job might not be so crappy after all.
 

“What on earth was that all about?” Umji was dying to find out. Sinb began to explain the story.
 

“OK, girls, I'm taking my break now. Sinb, no smoking in the staff room.” Their boss closed and locked his door and then turned around to face them. “Chirst Almighty, what are you two crying about now?”
 

ps: the coming up chapters are my favorites, the trip <3

as always don't forget to leave what you think in the com section