It was raining cats and dogs. Sabine, a 25-year-old student, was looking out of the windows of her small apartment. At the moment she didn't feel like leaving the house at all. But her friend Britta was waiting for her in Marie's café just around the corner. Well, probably it was better to go out than sitting at home, thinking about Rob and getting depressed. He hadn't written for nearly one month now and she could not help thinking about him for hours and wondering what could be the reason, but she did not come to a conclusion. Her memories flashed back to last summer when she met Rob. She had spent half a year studying in England. It is always an advantage to have done part of your studies abroad if you want to become a translator or an interpreter. The night she met Rob for the first time started as usual. Sheila, an English friend, took her out to a pub where they met with some friends of Sheila's. Rob arrived a bit later than the others. He was working in a factory and doing a lot of overtime since he was in need of money. As he told Sabine, his dream was to become a painter and he was trying to save up money to be able to study at an art college. They spent all the night talking and it was like if they had known each other for ages. Before they left, he asked for her phone number. She handed it to him, but didn't really expect anything of it. Many guys had asked her number since she was in England, but no one ever called. So she decided not to take that serious anymore. But Rob did call and they met again. This time he took her out for dinner and told her a lot about himself. He was the youngest of three brothers and his mother had died of cancer when he was only five years old. Sabine, who herself was very close to her mother, could imagine that it must be horrible for a child to loose its Mom. Besides, his father was already quite old and taking care of such a little fellow was too much for him. So each time he felt like little Rob was getting on his nerves, he beat him. When Rob had done his O-leves, his father told him: "Now, son, you better get a job. I've got no money to feed you anymore." Rob was very sad when he heard that. He had always been very good at art and dreamt of going to an art college after school. His art teacher, who was really impressed by his paintings, encouraged him, but it was impossible to persuade his father. "I had to go to work right after school, so why should this one be better off, ey?" he had said. So Rob accepted his fate, but tried to save some of his wage for his studies he still dreamt of. But he didn't earn much and not much was left to be saved at the end of a month, so sometimes he was full of despair. He remembered his mother telling him about his Grandfather who was a famous painter, but since his father wasn't in touch with his mother's family, he didn't have any address where he could reach him. Sabine did't really know what to say to Rob's story. Her life had been quite normal compared to his. She was raised in a small village, had a younger brother, and her parents were trying to enable their children to live a good life and support them with their studies. Sometimes Sabine was working besides studying to have some extra money for travelling, buying fashionable clothes, etc., but she didn't really have to.
After dinner, they decided to go for a walk and ended up at the really quiet place close to the Thames. This place was a secret and only few people knew it. It was fascinating to be in the heart of London, but really on their own, with no other people around. This was the time they started dating... "Stop dreaming", Sabine told herself, "don't be silly. It is obvious that this guy simply does not want you anymore. So better start looking around for somebody else." But it was not that easy. She simply could not forget Rob. She sighed and looked at her watch. Six o'clock already. Oh shit, Britta was already waiting. Sabine decided, instead of changing completely, just to take off her old jeans and put on her new trousers. They were black and silver, quite fashionable. Sabine looked into the mirror and was almost satisfied. ( she was never really satisfied with her appearance, to be honest. ) Even her legs and bottom did not seem that fat anymore.
"Did you hear from Rob by now?" Britta asked when they were enjoying their capuccinos. "No. And you better not remind me of him anymore." Then Sabine felt she had been to impolite and tried to save the situation by asking: "And what about your love life, girl? Any news?" Having been given the key word, Britta was telling a full-length story about a crazy radio presenter Sabine was not really interested in. Still, the one who was on her mind most of the time was Rob.
She got back home aound midnight, but was unable to fall asleep. As she had done countless times before, she was taking out Rob's last letter again and trying to find a clue for him to break up contact. But, as usual, she didn't find anything significant. His letter was written as sweet and lovely as always. The main thing he talked about was a letter he had received from Achill Island in the West of Ireland that was addressed to friends and family of Brian O'Donnell. Brian O'Donnell, that was this Grandfather, the famous painter his Mom had always told him about. The one he wanted to get in touch with, but his father did not have or did not want to give him his address. So Sabine could imagine how happy Rob was to get this invitation and that he could simply not wait to head off for Ireland, hoping to meet his Grandfather and / or some other painters who could give him some advice of how to reach his goal of becoming a painter himself.
When was the meeting? Sabine read the letter again. Ah, 5th of February. So there were only three days left. Should she...? But she didn't have an invitation. What would all the others say if she simply appeared? But if she booked her own accomodation, she would not cause them any trouble, would she? Besides, she simply felt the need to see Rob once more. Even if this story was finished, she needed to know it for sure to be able to put an end to it and be open for new things. So she had no choice. And as always when she had once found out what was the best for her, nothing in the world could stop her from doing it. She took out her old atlas, looked for Achill Island and switched on the computer searching for train connections. Well, that was done. The next day she would go to the station and buy a ticket. She felt kind of relieved, ready to go to bed and immediately fell asleep.