It is five years since your father arrested me at the ferry down there on Lough Swilly, because I wished to press on to Letterkenny and not delay a night by stopping with a stranger.

Five years since I first saw you, first heard the language of your violin.

I remember how you sat with your back towards me.

The light shone on your hair; I could just see your eyelashes and the colour of your cheeks.

I remember the sweep of your arm....