Page 24 of Heart of the Wren
Eddie threw a hand in the air and turned away. “You’re nearly 18.”
“He says it’s too far away.”
Eddie’s voice jumped. “It’s England, not the moon! It’s not as if your family can’t visit. Or as if you’ll never come back.”
Carol hugged herself again. “I think he’s afraid I won’twantto come back.”
She looked so young in that moment, in the stark electric light of the shed.
Eddie threw a lineless fishing rod out of his way. “Who would blame you?” He found his foot tangled in some netting and tried to kick it off. “You’ll never have to come to a place like this again.”
I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, what’s wrong with it?”
He held his arms wide. “Look at it! It’s a museum. No, museums are useful. It’s a tip. A rubbish dump. And not just in here. The whole farm — the whole bloody village — nothing but a tiny, freezing cold, muddy speck on a hill in the middle of nowhere. And don’t look at me like that, Lorcan. I’ve heard you complain often enough.” He took Carol’s hand. “People are leaving Ireland every day for a better life elsewhere. There’s no work here. I’ll get a nice job in the city, buy us a nice house with a nice garden. It’ll be…” He flicked a viscous blob from his hand.
“Nice,” Carol said.
“Exactly,” Eddie said. “Do youwantto come with me?”
Her eyes flickered over to me. “I told you I hadn’t made up my mind.”
“Well you can’t keep me waiting forever, Carol. It’s torture.”
An almighty crash made Carol all but jump out of her skin. A shabby wardrobe stuffed with leftover wallpaper had fallen and cracked open at the seams. The shelves fell and the whole thing split into pieces.
“You must have disturbed it pulling that yoke out.” Carol pointed to the roll of tarpaulin.
Eddie started to clear up the mess but sat on the harsh concrete floor, instead. “I don’t want to be like this,” he said. “I don’t want to spend my life getting annoyed at sheep and having to search through—” He gestured to the mounds before him. “—allthis.” He sighed. “I want to make a proper life. And I want to make it with you.”
Carol lingered behind him. She reached out and almost touched hisshoulder but instead she walked away, past me, and out into the snow.
I followed her to the arched bridge. “I’ll say this for him: he’s sincere.”
The snow hadn’t let up and it sat high on the bridge’s walls.
“He is. It’s one of reasons I like him. And he can actually have a conversation and never once mention tractors, or beer, or the GAA, unlike the lads in the village. He’s… worldly. Mature.”
“Good-looking too. Which helps.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Are you going to go?” I asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. Honestly, I haven’t. I thought I could talk to Daddy but he flew off the handle.”
“Which is why Eddie’s been in a mood these past few days, then.”
“He keeps asking and asking, and I don’t know what to tell him.” She made a snowball from the wall and threw it into the trickling stream.
“Do you love him?” I asked.
She bit on her necklace. “I don't want to be stuck here for my whole life.”
“Do you love him?”
“I... Not yet. But I will. Or I might.” She paced back and forth. “And look, it’ll be easier for me to train as a nurse over there. We’ll have more opportunities… I know Daddy complains about everyone emigrating when we should be staying here, trying to make it work, but…”
“Hold on, hold on. You want to be a nurse? I thought you wanted to be a vet?”
