If I was a dog, I would be a collie, old but excited

Howth, 9.30pm, and I am in hotel room 251, on one of three single beds, reading my book, anticipating the arrival of my two younger sisters from Dublin airport.

Now and again, as I imagine them bursting into the room and shattering its cool, corporate calm, a small bubble of excitement rises in my chest, threatening to pop as laughter in my throat.

But, right now, it’s so peaceful in 251. My bed is comfy and my book has the draw of a strong rip-tide, so when my phone rings, I struggle to pull out of it.