Page 215 of The Missing Sister
‘Wow, Mum,’ Jack said as he buckled his seat belt and we drove off, ‘I’ve learnt so much. I had no idea about the Easter Rising of 1916 that sparked the Irish revolution against the British. Ireland finally became a republic in 1949 – the year you were born! Did you know that?’
‘I did, yes, but I wasn’t old enough to take in its significance at the time.’
‘I understand now why so many Irish people were angry back then,’ Mary-Kate put in from the back. ‘Jacko and I went halves on a book and we’re both going to read it, aren’t we?’
‘We are. I didn’t realise how much religion played a part in it all. We never even think about whether we’re Protestant or Catholic, do we, MK?’ said Jack. ‘It doesn’t matter in New Zealand.’
‘Well, here there’s still die-hard Catholics and Protestants on both sides,’ I said.
‘What’s amazing is that everyone here seems so happy and friendly. You’d never know what the country’s been through from the people you meet,’ commented Mary-Kate. ‘The suffering was so terrible – I saw the stuff about the potato famine and...’
I listened to my children chatting about my homeland and the turmoil it had been through in the past. And suddenly felt an enormous pride in just how far it had come since I was born.
Back in my room at the hotel, I sat out on the balcony, having a cup of tea. A thought had come to me since my meeting with Father O’Brien.
The question is, is it really my place to interfere?
Then again, Merry, you’ve spent your life hiding behind your husband and your children, never making decisions for yourself...
‘Come on, Merry,’ I told myself out loud, ‘dosomething for a change.’
I walked inside, telling myself the worst that could happen was that he would say no. Picking up my mobile, I dialled the number.
The phone rang three or four times before it was answered. ‘Ambrose Lister here. Who’s speaking, please?’
‘Ambrose, it’s Merry. How are you?’
‘Very well indeed, thank you. And you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. Ambrose. Actually, I was just wondering if you were busy in the next couple of days?’
‘Mary, I’d be lying if I said my calendar was full, but Plato awaits, as he always does.’
‘I was wondering if you would consider coming down to West Cork. I... well, I need your help.’
‘West Cork? I don’t think so, Mary, it’s a long journey for these old bones.’
‘I promise you, Ambrose, things have improved since the last time you drove down here in your bright red Beetle,’ I smiled. ‘It’s motorway or dual carriage and certainly tarmac all the way. How about I book you a taxi? I have a man here who I’m sure would be delighted to come and get you.’
‘Mary, I would rather not, I—’
‘Ambrose, Ineedyou. And we’re staying at the most wonderful hotel overlooking Inchydoney Beach. You remember, the huge one near Clonakilty?’
‘I do remember it, yes. And the shack that stood above it. I wouldn’t say it looked terribly inviting.’
‘Well, this hotel is modern, with every facility you could imagine. It would also give you a chance to meet my daughter before we go back to New Zealand. Please, Ambrose, there’s a mystery I need solving and only you could possibly know the answer.’
I’d now run out of ammunition to persuade him. There was a pause on the line. ‘Well, if you really need me to come all that way, I have to believe that it’s for good reason. What time would this taxi collect me?’
‘I still need to confirm it, but how about we say eleven o’clock tomorrow morning?’
‘And I shall no doubt arrive in time for a cup of bedtime cocoa.’
‘Nonsense, Ambrose. It’ll take you three hours at the most, so I’d hope you’d be in time for afternoon tea, taken with a gorgeous view of the Atlantic. I shall book you a lovely room and look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’
‘Very well, Mary. I will see you then. I have something to give you that arrived here only this morning. For now, I will say goodbye.’
Switching off my mobile, I threw it down on the bed and then gave a little whoop of triumph. There was a knock on my door and I went to open it.
