Page 21 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

Finbar winked and Jo felt her cheeks redden. Clearly she has misjudged the mystery man who had delivered her to Flatterley Manor.

‘My main job is cabaret singing,’ Finbar said. ‘I’ve worked all over the world, mostly on cruise ships but I’ve had residencies at some of the finest clubs on the Costas.’

‘So, Kindale is your home town?’

‘To be sure. My mam is still alive, God bless her, and I’ve friends here. Kindale is a place that draws you back.’ Finbar paused. ‘Believe me, you’ll always return to this beautiful place.’

‘Is your wife an entertainer too?’ Jo asked, curious to know more.

‘Mary is long gone.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Jo felt uncomfortable as she watched Finbar stare out of the window, his eyes looking out to the harbour where the water flowed to the distant sea.

‘Yes, it was many years ago.’

‘I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked; I had no idea that you’d lost your wife.’

Finbar stared at his hands.

Suddenly, with a smile as wide as the sky outside, he said, ‘She went off with an American tourist and hasn’t been seen since. My friends tell me that she’s settled in a suburb of Sacramento.’ He laughed. ‘And I wish her nothing but luck.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘It was best for both of us,’ he said. ‘We married far too young.’

Jo felt slightly foolish and decided to change the subject. ‘What does your job entail today?’ she asked.

Finbar glanced at his watch. ‘In a short while,’ he said, ‘ticket holders will flood into the ballroom and enjoy tastings of the best chowder in Ireland, then they’ll complete a voting slip and tonight, at a finalist’s dinner, the winner will be announced.’ He grinned. ‘Yours truly will be entertaining the guests.’

‘Oh, how exciting, will you sing?’

‘Why don’t you come along and find out?’

‘I haven’t got a ticket, and I’m sure it’s a sell-out.’ She wasn’t sure that she was comfortable attending an event on her own.

‘You have now. I’ll find you a seat with the friendliest folk in Kindale and you will be made most welcome.’ Finbar stood. ‘Now, I must go, I have a job to do. Why don’t you come and taste the chowders?’

Jo felt her tummy rumble and remembered that she was hungry. It was way past lunch time and she needed to eat. ‘Thank you,’ she said, gathering her jacket and bag. ‘I’d love to.’

* * *

Bill watchedwith interest at Melissa poured milk into two china cups then, taking a spoon, stirred a pot of tea.

‘Sugar?’ she asked as she poured the steaming liquid.

‘Not for me.’

It was the afternoon break at Boomerville and as light refreshments were served, guests gathered to discuss their classes. Chatter was lively as they heard about the others’ experiences. Bill wondered how he’d ended up next to Melissa; he’d wanted to avoid company, but the only spare seat was beside her.

‘Did you have a good day?’ Melissa asked.

‘It started off badly. I had to go and see that Shaman person.’

‘The Shaman?’

‘A complete fraud, if you ask me. I can’t get the smell of his wretched twigs off my clothes; it’s lingered all day.’

‘Did you do anything else?’

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