January 1st (again)

I’m not sure if I should write this here, or in my new journal.

Yesterday was New Year’s Eve. I still call it that although Cal bribed the kids to call it Hogmanay. They even know all the words to Auld Lang Syne. I mumble along, much to his disgust.

Like most Irish people I hate New Year’s Eve. I could happily stay in with a takeaway and a DVD but Cal insisted we throw a party. His pay for the last of his security work came in, so I couldn’t use money as an excuse. Hannah and I picked up fancy party food in Drogheda. I was putting a selection of cheeses into my bag when I spotted Sarah Stafford across the road. She was wrapped in a bright red coat with a huge fur collar and had...

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