Page 101 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Hello, Hattie.’ The man nodded. He appeared nervous as he paid his fare and picked up the holdall that Finbar had retrieved from the trunk.

‘Don’t go driving off,’ Hattie said and indicated that Finbar should head into the manor. ‘There’s coffee in a pot in the kitchen, this gentleman won’t be stopping for long.’

‘That’s for Jo to decide.’ The man was brusque as he stepped forward, and made his way to the front door. ‘Where is she?’

‘She’s walking the dog and won’t be back for some time.’

‘Then I’ll wait.’

‘There’s a bench over there.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Aye, I am, use it.’

Turning her back on the visitor, Hattie reached into her pocket for a bunch of keys. With Finbar inside, and standing patiently in the hall, she closed the door then fiddled about until she found the key that she wanted. She turned it in the lock and when certain that the man couldn’t get in, shook her head.

‘Bloody Pete Parks!’ Hattie swore and, taking Finbar’s arm, guided him into the bar.

38

Hattie and Finbar sat in the music room. Hattie had positioned their chairs by the window and on a nearby table had placed a selection of Irish gins, a bucket of ice, limes, lemons and several bottles of tonic water.

‘Here’s to your mam,’ Hattie said and raised her glass. ‘I’m sure she was a wonderful lady.’

‘To Mammy,’ Finbar replied and took a long slug of his drink.

Hattie, still in her overalls, kicked off her trainers and raised her feet to place them on a footstool and, with an arm either side of her chair and legs stretched, sighed with pleasure. There was nothing quite as satisfying as relaxing with a lovely tipple and good company, she thought to herself as she gazed out at the garden, where Declan and the twins were mowing the lawn. Bugger the painting, she’d get round to that later. A little while ago, she’d seen Melissa and James, pots of paint in hand, head to the cottage, with Teddy in tow. She’d let them get on with it. For now, it was a joy to sit with Finbar and listen to him reminisce with stories about his mammy and their life in Kindale.

‘She must have been quite a woman,’ Hattie said and looked across at Finbar.

‘She certainly was, until the devil dementia got a hold.’ He stared at a distant point in the garden. ‘Mammy was the one who encouraged me to travel and see the world; without her saving up and paying for my singing and dancing lessons and insisting that I audition, I would never had taken the opportunities that came my way.’

‘Another drink?’ Hattie leaned across to pour and as she added ice, lime and gin to Finbar’s glass. ‘What job did you like best?’

‘The cruise ships were most fun, a different port each day, so many beautiful countries to see.’

Hattie thought about her cruising days with dear Hugo and nodded.

‘Did you know that Melissa worked on cruise ships when she was younger?’

‘I had an inkling.’

‘I don’t suppose your paths ever crossed?’

‘It’s hard to say.’ Finbar was evasive. ‘You meet so many people in that sort of job.’

Hattie took a sip of her drink and savoured the hint of juniper, lemon and coriander on her tongue. Cork Dry Gin was delicious. She thought about Finbar and the way he looked at Melissa. Hattie had caught stolen glances from both, when the other wasn’t looking.

Was there something unspoken in the air?

Pete came into view and they watched him pace around the garden. With his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, Hattie wondered if he felt as fed up as he looked. She’d called Jo and told her of the visitor and Jo, although surprised, was angry.

‘Damn the man!’ Jo had cursed and assured Hattie that she’d make him wait. There was a famous tourist spot that she’d been meaning to visit since her arrival at Ballymegille and she’d taken Bunty over to the Old Head of Kindale, which had an interesting fort, a stunning view of open sea and masses of space for the dog to have a run.

Hattie chuckled as she watched Pete slump down on a bench. Jo’s excursion should take up three hours at least. Hattie thought that she ought to go out and rescue him, it was hot outside and he must be gagging for a drink and a bite to eat, after his flight and long journey from Cumbria, but she decided to let him wait for a while. After all, he’d hardly shown Jo any courtesies when he’d dumped her so unceremoniously.

‘Shall we try the Wild Burrow?’ Hattie drained her glass.

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