Page 46 of Harbor Lights
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up.
I’ll be on the midmorning ferry.
Shiv’s message was blunt, but at least she’d replied. Her mood boosted, Con took a shower and dressed for an evening in her local bar. Before she left her room, she glanced at the fiddle in its case in the corner. She couldn’t handle standing out in the crowd tonight. She just wanted to relax.
The bar was quiet this early in the evening, so Con took her usual place at a corner table—close enough to hear the conversation at the bar, but not close enough to intrude.
“Doc.” Larry, the manager, came over and placed a canteen of cutlery and sauces on her table. “The usual?”
She didn’t bother to look at the menu. Friday night fish and chips was her regular treat for getting through the week. It was always well cooked at the Harbor Bar. “Yes please, Larry. And a pint.”
She wasn’t in the mood for wine after last night.
Shane O’Dwyer, one of the local fishers, turned from where he was chatting at the bar.
“Doc, how are ya?”
She smiled politely. “I’m well thank you, Shane. How’s business?”
“Same old. We fish what we can, but the man takes most of the profits.”
Con suspected the Harbor Bar took its fair share of the profits, too, but she didn’t say that.
He turned back to his conversation with Tony Tyrrell, an Inishderry islander who also fished. Occasionally. When he wasn’t in the bar.
Larry returned with her drink. “Will you get the next round for Shane and Tony please?”
He nodded and returned to the bar.
She spent the rest of her evening wondering why her solo dining experience suddenly felt so dissatisfying. But she knew the real reason: she’d gotten used to Shiv’s companionship and her unique view of the world. The way she could cut through all the bullshit and seek out the truth.
Con finished eating and headed home earlier than was her habit. Ending the evening with a malt whiskey in her study, she glanced out at the lights of the boats in the harbor, and wondered what the next day would bring. Was it excitement or dread sitting deep in her stomach, adding an acid side note to her digestion? Well, at least she didn’t have long to wait.
* * *
A sharp rapon the window of the Land Rover startled Con enough to bang her head on the steering wheel. She’d been rummaging in the glove box for some appropriate music to play on the ancient tape deck that served as onboard entertainment.
“Ouch.” She rubbed the back of her head while Shiv jumped up the step and settled in the seat next to her.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to get in unannounced.”
Con turned to Shiv, who was avoiding eye contact. “Fancy listening to Rumours?” She held out the cassette she’d been searching for. Everyone loved a bit of Fleetwood Mac, didn’t they?
Shiv turned and her eyes opened wide. “Hey, I love this album.” She took the cassette and turned it over. “Is it an original copy?”
“I was six years old when the album was released, so, no.”
When Shiv blinked, Con felt a pang of regret for her blunt reply.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that you’re old enough to have bought it when it came out. I thought maybe it was your parents’.”
Con smiled to lighten her previous response. “Actually, my dad did have the album on vinyl. It was one of his few forays into popular music.”
“Was this their car?” Shiv pushed the cassette carefully into the machine and pressed play.
Con listened to the familiar guitar intro for a few moments. “It was my dad’s car. He bought it the year we were born because it had four doors, and he thought my mum would like the extra space. She said it was ridiculous and made him buy her a regular family car, so he kept this one for himself and his visits. It’s great for reaching patients off the beaten track.”
“We?”
