Page 11 of Hidden Daughters

Kirby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before taking a slug of his beer shandy. ‘If someone you’d been going out with for a few months had died, even if the relationship had run its course, wouldn’t you be a bit more forlorn than he is over there?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t know yet.’

‘Everyone knows. It’s all the town is talking about.’ He spread his hands wide, taking in the lunchtime crowd.

Martina shook her head. ‘You’re great at generalising, aren’t you?’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Forget it.’

Kirby said, ‘You’ve changed since you used to go out with that bollox McKeown. You’ve got more cynical and too serious. I fancied you myself at one time, you know?’

‘I know, but then you met Amy and you’re happy with her. Aren’t you?’

‘Happier than a pig in shite.’ He filled his mouth and munched loudly.

She had to laugh. Kirby could be obnoxious and adorable at the same time. She liked him, and she liked his partner, Amy, even more. All she felt for McKeown was disdain, and disgustat herself for ever having fallen for him. If that experience had given her a cynical view of mankind, so be it.

‘What’s our next move?’ she asked.

‘We need to talk to him.’ Kirby pointed his fork towards the chef.

‘I’ll have a word and see what time he finishes.’

Kirby held up a side plate. ‘Ask for an extra portion of chips for me while you’re at it.’

9

CONNEMARA

The drive to Galway was fine until they’d skirted the city and passed the seaside towns of Salthill and Spiddal. Then, as they turned to head for Bryan O’Shaughnessy’s house, the road gradually narrowed to little more than a lane, with the sea to their left.

‘It’s at the end of the world,’ Lottie said to herself, peering through the windscreen at Boyd’s car ahead of her. She hoped that if her car disappeared into the ocean, he’d miss her before it was too late.

She slowed as a windswept farmhouse came into view. Pebble-dashed, with two storeys and ancient-looking sash windows, it didn’t hold out much hope for comfort.

Once they’d parked in the yard, she took her small suitcase and followed Boyd in through the back door. Grace greeted them dressed in a mid-length green cotton dress. With her hair tied back, face devoid of any make-up, she looked fresh and healthy.

‘Mark, it’s so good to see you.’ She filled the kettle and, seemingly as an afterthought, glanced at Lottie. ‘And you too. Tea? I baked scones this morning, and there’s our own honey. I thought you’d be here earlier. You must be starving.’ The last comment she addressed only to Boyd.

Lottie wondered if this was to be a portent for the days ahead. She hoped not or it was going to be a very long week indeed. She was about to say they’d stopped for coffee and sandwiches, but she caught Boyd’s warning look just in time.

‘That would be great, Grace,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

‘Sit at the table.’

‘Can I help?’ All Lottie wanted to do was take a long shower and a nap.

‘I’m well able to make a pot of tea and butter a few scones.’

Stifling a sigh, she did as she was told. Joining her at the table, Boyd took her hand and squeezed it.

‘It’s great to be here, Grace,’ he said. ‘I hope we aren’t putting you out too much. We could have stayed at a hotel.’

‘Why would you do that? There’s room for everyone here. I made up the two spare rooms.’

Lottie felt her jaw drop. Did Grace think they were teenagers? No way was she letting that pass, despite Boyd gripping her hand tighter.

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