Chapter 8
EIGHT
The name that flashed up on the phone screen both surprised and pleased Joey. They’d been wondering how Marianne was getting on and had convinced themself she’d gone back to Dublin without telling them. Not that Joey deserved a personal farewell, but they’d hoped to wish her luck and say goodbye to sweet little Denny.
They rolled out of their hammock to answer. “Marianne, how are you?”
“Hi, Joey, I’m still stumbling on.” Her video flicked on, and she looked so lost Joey’s heart went out to her. “I’m leaving the apartment today, and I just had the strange idea of coming back to Inishderry for a few days.”
Joey ran their hand through their hair and turned on their video, too, hoping they didn’t look too startled. “Really? I thought you’d have a plan by now.”
“Yeah. Well, I haven’t, and I feel like my head’s all over the place and I can’t think straight. When we were there the other weekend, I felt relaxed and happy. And Denny loved it.”
“Okay, do you want me to speak to Kasia and get you mates’ rates at the Waterside?”
Marianne blinked. “That’s the thing. I don’t have any money. I still have a working credit card, but I’m going to need that for essentials while I get back on my feet. I can’t spend it all on hotel fees.”
“I’m not sure we’ll find you a rental at short notice this time of the year. The nice ones get booked up in advance.”
“I was wondering if I could stay with you for a few nights?” The words came out in a tumble and Marianne’s cheeks flushed.
Joey held their breath. As well as being a refuge from the world, their home was tiny. And far too basic for someone like Marianne.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I wouldn’t if I wasn’t at my wits’ end. I’ll find somewhere, don’t worry.” Mari had clasped her folded arms until the skin was white beneath her fingers.
Joey wished they could take her hands and unclasp them. It hurt their heart to see her so upset. How could they not help? “Of course you can stay. It’s not a big space, but I’ll sleep next door with my dad. You can have the place to yourselves for a couple of days.”
Marianne’s hands unclasped and the tightness eased in Joey’s own body.
“It means so much to me, Joey. Thank you. I promise it’ll just be a few days while I reset.”
“You’re very welcome. It’ll be good to see you again. Just let me know when you’re due and I’ll have the place ready.”
“Would today be okay? On the last ferry?”
Jesus . What was her plan if Joey had said no? “Of course, yeah. I’ll pick you up then.”
“Thanks a million, Joey. You’ll never know how much this means to me.”
Joey rang off and spent the next two hours making their small cottage safe for a toddler. There wasn’t too much to do in the limited space. They collected all the work equipment and took it out to the shed where it should be. It was too easy to bring in a pot to fix or a rope to join. It was so rare Joey had company in the cottage it didn’t matter. There had been a time when Kasia would come over to enjoy the morning sunrises, but those days were rare now, and they were much more likely to go and stay at the Waterside. So, while the cottage was always spotlessly clean, it had become a little cluttered.
Half an hour before the ferry was due, they stood and surveyed their home. It was clean and neat and contained nothing that could harm a small child. They checked the tiny spare room that served as an office when they were playing at developing their business. They’d covered the single bed with an old bedspread decorated with a sailing boat, and on the windowsill was a model fishing craft they’d assembled one cold and lonely winter. That was the most child-friendly they had to offer.
Their own room was tidied and aired, and their old, tired sheets had been replaced with a new set they’d been planning to break out but had never bothered.
It was the best they could do, but they couldn’t believe it would be good enough for Marianne. They’d wondered if they should book a cottage at the hotel for her. They could afford it for a few days, but how would they explain it to Kasia? Perhaps they should let Marianne decide if the cottage was acceptable; if not, they’d find another option.
A check of the time showed they had a few minutes spare to have a chat with their dad and try and explain why they’d be sleeping in his chair for a few nights.
“Hey, Dad.” Joey knocked tentatively at the red door. The cottage was neat and freshly painted on the outside, but the inside was another matter. They could stick it out for a couple of nights.
“Josephine, come in.” Their stomach clenched with the familiar distress that came with being deadnamed. Their dad sat in his usual place by the fire in his smoky, dark room. Joey, and each of their brothers when they came home, had tried time and time again to convince him to move out for a while, so they could do some renovations, but he always resisted. So here he sat in a room that hadn’t really changed since the 1920s, in front of a fire that would have originally cooked a pot of food.
“Please call me Joey, Dad. We’ve talked about it so many times.”
He shrugged and said nothing.
“How are you?” They slung themself into the battered chair opposite.
“I’m grand. How’s the fishing?”
“It’s all okay, Dad. The oyster beds are doing great. I’m thinking of extending them when I can afford it.”
“We didn’t bother with all that back in the day. We caught fish and got good money for them.”
Joey pushed the heel of their hand into their forehead. “Tastes have changed and so fishing has changed, Dad. We’ve talked about it. It’s why Donal and Liam go to work in Spain.”
“I miss them. We used to fish here.”
“I know. They’ll be back in the summer, and we’ll all go out together on the Queen Maedbh. You’ll love it so.”
He nodded and sat back.
“I’m just coming to ask if I can sleep here for a few days. A friend is staying in my house, and I need a bed.”
He shuffled in his chair. “The boys might come round to play cards.”
They both knew that didn’t happen as often as he’d like. “Do you want me to drop you to Patsy’s?”
“Ah, no it’s grand. I’ll be watching the Late Late Show.”
“But before that, Dad. Do you not want to go out?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I’m worried you don’t see your friends much anymore.”
“We’re getting old, Joey. It’s harder work to get out and see people. I’m grand watching the TV.”
“Okay, I’ll stop bothering you. But do you mind me keeping you company for a few nights?”
“If you must.” He peered at them. “Who’s this staying at your house? You never have people stay.”
“That’s because there’s not much space.” And because they didn’t really know anyone who didn’t live on the island. “It’s a friend, a customer, really. She had her own restaurant, but it had to close, so she’s a bit stuck.”
“Did it shut down because your shellfish were too fancy?”
Joey had never understood why their younger brothers had so much more credibility with their dad, even though Joey had been the one to stay and take over the family business.
“No, Dad. It doesn’t matter why. She needs help and I want to be there for her and her little boy.”
He swung around. “I don’t want children hanging around, shouting and disturbing me.”
“You won’t need to worry about Denny. He’s a quiet lad.” They dropped a bag in the corner. “Anyway, if you’re happy with me staying, I’ll get off and fetch them from the ferry.”
Their dad shrugged. “Will you bring me for my dinner?”
“Of course. It’s Monday. I’ll see you later.” They didn’t want him to become completely dependent on them cooking for him, so they’d got into the habit of bulk preparing a bunch of meals to store in his freezer. Once they’d bought him a microwave and taught him how to use it, he was able to take out a meal and cook it. But Mondays and Fridays, they dined together at Joey’s small dining table. Now the evenings were drawing out, they’d take him for a walk afterwards. He’d aged this winter and his walk had become more of a shuffle. He’d just turned seventy-five, but to Joey’s eyes he appeared much older.
They left him in his chair and took the truck on the short journey to the harbor, parking as they always did outside the Waterside.
Kasia was walking up from one of the rental cottages with a basket of linen. She waved and Joey looked out into the harbor. The ferry hadn’t yet appeared around the lighthouse, so they had plenty of time. They jogged over and took the basket.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to make it look so easy.”
Joey grinned and hoisted the basket above their head with one hand. Kasia grasped them around the middle, digging her fingers into their ribs, just where she knew they were vulnerable. Joey dropped the basket onto the grass, bed sheets falling out, as they giggled and batted her away.
“I love how ticklish you are. Who’d have thought it?”
Joey picked up the load once more and they walked up to the doors of the hotel. They handed the basket to Kasia. “I’ll leave you to get on. The ferry will be here soon.”
“And who are you collecting from the ferry? Your brothers aren’t back, are they?”
“Not yet, no.” They paused, hesitant to expand.
“Well, who?” Kasia frowned.
“Marianne needs a place to stay for a few days while she makes a plan for the future.”
“Marianne the fancy chef?” Kasia dropped the basket. “Why is she still around? I’d’ve thought she’d be well on her way back to the big, glamorous city.”
“Her reputation is everything to her. She wants some time before she goes to face reality.”
“What happened to her wife? Amira, isn’t it?”
“She basically told Mari it was all her fault and then left to go back to her family. She’s not bothered about Denny, as far as I can tell.” Joey was trying not to get involved but the thought of a parent who could walk away from such a wonderful little kid made them furious.
“So she’s trying to start again with a toddler in tow? Good luck to her with that.”
“It’s why I’m trying to help. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
Kasia rested her hand on Joey’s arm. “She must have people she knows better than you, Joey. A couple of weeks ago, she was just another customer.”
Marianne had never been just another customer, but Joey wasn’t going to get into that now. Or ever. “She’s staying a few days. It’s not much, but if it helps her, I’ll happily do it.”
“And where will you be staying?” Kasia’s eyebrows raised.
“With Dad. The company will do him good.”
“Where will you sleep?”
“Remember I got him that couch when the O’Neills were refitting their holiday home? It’s pretty comfortable.”
“Oh, Joey, I know you like to help people out, but to give up your bed. Come here. We’ll find you a room.”
Joey kicked the doorstep. “I’ve already told Dad, and Marianne doesn’t know her way around.”
“How long for? You can’t sleep there for long, can you?”
“A few days. I won’t give her a deadline; she needs a break. It’ll work out.”
Kasia wrapped her arms around them and squeezed tight. “You’re a very special person, Joey. I hope Marianne appreciates you.”
Joey suspected Marianne would appreciate anyone who helped her out.
“Ferry’s coming in. I’ll see you later.” They jogged away down the path, leaving Kasia to her laundry.
“Bring them here to eat tonight.” Kasia’s voice followed them. “And your dad, too.”
They waved agreement and continued to the quay, not wanting Marianne to arrive on the island without a greeting.
The last boat was mostly locals returning from work and the few visitors staying on the island. People streamed across the gangplank, most of them greeting Joey with a slap on the shoulder. They stood aside to chat with Tierney’s cousin Aoife about lifeboat training for a few moments, then the crowd cleared, and Marianne walked up the gangway, trying to juggle a pushchair, Denny, and a large holdall.
Jacky Keane, the ferry worker, jumped back on board. “Don’t you struggle. I’ll take these. You look after the little one.”
He lugged the bag and the buggy onto dry land where Joey stepped forward to take them. Jacky’s eyes opened wide, and an evil grin spread across his face as he glanced between Marianne and Joey. As they took the bag, Joey glared at him in warning. They didn’t need Marianne to be put off staying by the island’s biggest gossip.
“There you go, Joey. Branching into B and B, are we?”
“It’s a temporary arrangement.” Joey turned to greet Marianne. “Welcome back to Inishderry.” They couldn’t have prevented the smile that widened across their face if they’d tried.
Marianne barely returned it. “Thank you. It’s been quite the few days.”
Her eyes were puffy, and she looked exhausted. Joey was reminded this wasn’t a pleasure visit; Marianne was homeless.
“Let’s get you settled in the cottage, and you can have a rest.”
They led the way to the truck and hoped Mari wouldn’t be too horrified by their cottage. They were satisfied with their lifestyle. They loved their job and Inishderry. Sure, it was a little isolating at times, but generally they had a lot to be thankful for. But they couldn’t help thinking the more Marianne knew about them, the more she would realize how limited their life was. And what Marianne thought of them mattered more than they were willing to admit.