Chapter 25
‘You’ve a little swelling, but given you can still stand on the ball of your foot, I think it’s a mild muscle sprain we’re looking at.’ Niall Heneghan delivered his verdict, and Grace, sitting in a chair near the dispensary with her leg elevated, lowered it. ‘I don’t think it’s severe enough for a doctor’s visit. A leg compression support wrap and plenty of rest should see your calf muscle come right in a day or two.’
The sandy-haired pharmacist headed toward a wall covered in bandages and other paraphernalia. Nuala, the pharmacist’s trusty, lovesick sidekick, was watching him as though he were the big man Himself. Then, as he rifled through the various support items in stock, she turned toward Grace, putting the feather duster she’d been fluffing about the sunglasses stand with aside.
‘And you were running away from a cow when you hurt yourself, you say?’
The incredulous note in her voice didn’t escape Grace, who flushed. ‘We didn’t know it was a cow at the time. You have to understand, Hannah and I thought it was a bull after us, and it wasn’t the running away per se that caused the sprain. It was the leaping over the gate that did it.’ Her leg ached, and Grace wished Mr Heneghan would hurry up.
Nuala, an advertisement for the latest make-up products to hit the shelves in Emerald Bay, wasn’t moving on from the cow thing, though. ‘I’d have thought the anatomy was fairly straightforward between the two myself.’
‘It had horns, Nuala. Great big horns,’ Grace offered up lamely.
‘I’ll take whatever you recommend, Mr Heneghan,’ she called over, eager to get out of there and away from Nuala’s twenty questions. She’d never been able to look at Nuala or Niall Heneghan the same since St Paddy’s Day, when they’d rocked up to the parade on a motorcycle dressed as Danny and Sandy from Grease. That Nuala carried a torch for Emerald Bay’s widowed pharmacist was common knowledge to everyone apart from the man himself. Someone would have to intervene one of these days and help Niall Heneghan see what was right in front of him, she thought.
A moment later, Nuala watched him gently secure the compression wrap around Grace’s calf with blind adoration. Then she dragged her pretty eyes away from his hands to ask, ‘And what was it you and Hannah were after doing creeping about Enda’s property in the first place?’
Grace stood up gingerly but was pleased that the support made a difference. ‘That feels much better, thanks, Mr Heneghan.’ She took a few tentative steps. As Nuala took the empty box from him to ring up her purchase, Grace said, ‘It’s a long story.’
‘Sure, we don’t close for another half hour, do we, Niall? We’ve all the time in the world.’
The pharmacist glanced at the wall clock and murmured his agreement as he fetched a bottle of pills down from the dispensary shelves and tipped them into a tray.
Nuala asked Grace for an eyewatering sum of money for what was, after all, just a piece of elastic with Velcro and zapped her card. Then, hearing a toot, Grace was reminded of Chris and Hannah waiting in the car outside, and she ran through what had brought her home to Emerald Bay this weekend as quickly as she could.
A few minutes later, Grace headed out the door, knowing they wouldn’t mind the hold-up when she told them Heneghan’s Pharmacy was on board for Emerald Grooves and keen to spread the word. Clara, Alfie and Clara’s family were well liked in Emerald Bay. As for the school, well, most of the villagers were heartbroken over the loss of all the hard-earned equipment, and nobody wanted the children to miss out, so once the villagers heard about what she and Chris were putting the festival’s proceeds toward, they’d be eager to help however they could, even if it was just by purchasing a ticket.
Hannah’s impatient face was pressed to the car’s back window. No doubt she was behind the beeping horn. Nuala had mentioned flyers they could pass out to customers about the festival, too, and Grace realised that was something she needed to organise ASAP.
‘What took you so long?’ Hannah griped as she climbed in the car. ‘It’s lunchtime, you know. I’m starving after all that exercise.’
‘Hannah, cop yourself on. We’re in Emerald Bay,’ Grace said, reaching for her seat belt. ‘There’s no such thing as just walking into a shop, making a purchase and leaving. You know that. I was after telling Niall and Nuala about the festival, and they’re eager to spread the word.’
‘Fair play. Home, James.’ Hannah flapped her hand at Chris, who grinned and obliged by turning the key in the ignition and performing his second U-turn of the day so he could head to the Shamrock.
As he puttered around the corner, Grace explained the need for speed where the flyers were concerned, as, ideally, she’d like to leave them with all the businesses down Main Street before she returned to London tomorrow evening. The rest of the publicity she could organise online.
‘I can whip up a quick design. I’ve got my laptop with me, but we’d need to go to a printer’s to get the quantities involved run off.’ She didn’t pause for breath as her plan crystallised in her mind. ‘And I want to speak to Isla tonight, because she’s the queen of the committees and will know what hoops need to be jumped through to get permission for the festival. I’m hoping once she hears what we’re fundraising for, she’ll offer to do her part in working through all of that for us. She’s bound to call in at the Shamrock. I think we should make an announcement about the festival, explaining what it’s all about, after I’ve spoken to her to cement the date in everyone’s heads. We could distribute the flyers then. What do you think?’
Chris glanced at her. ‘I think I’m impressed with your organisational skills, and I’ll be at the pub for the announcement.’
Grace basked in his praise while Hannah made gagging motions in the back, and she swivelled in her seat to glare at her sister as the car crunched over the gravel of the car park behind the pub.
Chris kept the car idling. ‘I would say our best bet for a print shop would be to head to Galway. We could grab a bite to eat there and—’
‘I could work on the flyer, then we could find a copy shop.’
‘Good plan.’ Their eyes locked.
‘Great teamwork, you two. Why don’t youse throw in a high five while you’re at it?’ Hannah winked lewdly at Grace, who’d have loved to slap her one, as she got out of the car. ‘Three’s a crowd, and I heard a rumour Nan was planning on making soda bread, and I’m hoping I’ve timed it so as it’s just coming out the oven. I’ll see youse both in the pub later?’
‘You will,’ Chris confirmed.
Grace’s mouth was watering at the thought of a pat of butter melting into Nan’s hot, fresh soda bread, and she called out, ‘Save me a piece of bread, and would you tell Mam where I’m going?’
Hannah said she’d pass it on and waved them off.
Grace was hyper aware it was just the two of them in the car now with no Doc Marten-booted chaperone in the back seat. Chris, however, seemed as laid-back as ever as he swung the car around and waited for Lorcan McGrath, who was bombing down the lane on his tractor, to pass.
Grace stole a sneaky glance at his profile. She was pleased he would brazen it out with her dad and make an appearance at the Shamrock this evening. He wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms, but that wasn’t Chris’s problem.
They both raised a hand, returning Lorcan’s greeting as he bounced past, then Chris pulled out behind the belching machine.
Grace was glad of her sunglasses as the car meandered up Main Street and a contingent of teenage boys promenading along emerged through clouds of vape smoke. On a day when the mercury climbed above twenty degrees in Ireland, you could always count on shirts being whipped off, ready for a dose of Vitamin D. Were it not for her glasses, she might have been blinded by all that pasty white flesh on display. Grace felt very old and sensible by comparison as she said, ‘I hope they’ve sunscreen on, or they’ll all be lobsters before the day’s out.’
Chris laughed, and the sound made her feel happy with the added bonus of relaxing her as he left the village behind and accelerated. The open road twisted in front of them. They passed all the usual landmarks until it was just the calm, blue blanket of sea on one side of the road and a kaleidoscope of green on the other. Grace felt she should open her window and stretch her arm long, letting her hand feel the salty breeze. She’d seen that in a film or a music video, she couldn’t remember which, but her dad’s voice telling them not to be hanging body parts out the car windows, because it was a sure way to lose a limb saw her refrain.
‘Oh, what’s going on up there?’ Grace squinted through her lenses into the distance, where a flashing blue light had caught her eye.
As they drew closer, she saw a people-mover parked a little way ahead of the Gardai car. She felt the car slow a little as Chris eased off the accelerator, and they both stickybeaked out the window in time to see Sergeant Badger emerge from his vehicle, aviator sunglasses on.
‘He’ll be swapping his vehicle for a motorcycle and donning a leather jacket before we know it,’ Grace muttered.
‘And changing his name to Sergeant Maverick.’
Grace laughed, pleased he’d picked up on her Top Gun reference.
‘I love the Top Gun films,’ Chris said as they passed the shamefaced driver of the vehicle Sergeant Badger was sauntering toward. ‘My dad had the original on video.’
‘Mine too! It was a great film, but the second one was better.’
‘You think?’
‘I know.’
They debated the merits of the old versus the new, eventually agreeing to disagree, then Chris said, ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as being a fan.’
‘Why not?’
He shrugged. ‘I’d have thought romance films would have been more your thing.’
‘Cheesy romance fluff films? Ugh, no thanks. Although I usually get dragged along to them with my friends. I like a bit of hardcore action, me.’ Then, realising she sounded as though she were referencing porn, she swiftly added, ‘I mean edge-of-your-seat stuff. I loved all the old Die Hard movies, too. My dad’s a big fan of them.’ It was a point of difference between herself and Ava, who’d refused to watch Liam Kelly’s Bruce Willis collection with him. Grace had been secretly pleased, not just because it meant more of the popcorn he’d rustled up but because it was something unique she shared with her dad. A love of Hollywood action flicks. It was their thing.
She found herself confiding this to Chris, and he picked up on the wistfulness in her voice.
‘I get it. Baking was always me and my mam’s thing.’
Grace hadn’t expected that.
‘Don’t look so surprised. I can whip up a mean batch of Irish gingersnaps.’
‘I love gingersnaps.’
His denim-blue eyes met hers for a brief second. ‘Who knew we had action films and gingersnaps in common?’
‘And there’s us living under the same roof these last few months with no clue.’
They grinned, then Chris, his gaze fixed on the road again, said, ‘Talk to your dad before you head back to London tomorrow night, Grace. Don’t let things fester.’
‘I’ve tried.’ Grace plucked at the frayed bits around the hem of her shorts. Nan had taken one look at them and said, ‘Can you not afford a decent pair?’
‘So? Try again.’
‘I don’t know where to start.’ Grace’s heart felt leaden. Chris was right. She needed to make things all right between them before she left. A permanent rift between them was something she couldn’t even imagine.
Chris shrugged. ‘Just tell him what he means to you.’
Grace thought about this and recalled Mam saying something about him going off on one of his countryside rambles tomorrow. She could go with him. That’s what she’d do, she resolved.
‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’ Chris asked.
This time, Grace shrugged. ‘Getting it.’
He smiled.
‘And I’m putting in an order for gingersnaps when we get back to London, because I’ve never seen any evidence of your baking prowess. And I’m warning you, I’ve been spoiled when it comes to home baking by my nan.’
‘I figured it would be wasted. Ulla doesn’t eat, and I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.’
‘A terrible sweet tooth.’
‘And I’d give your nan a run for her money.’
‘I’m going to hold you to that.’
He laughed. ‘You’re on.’
A warm glow suffused Grace, and she realised it was contentment. The sort of contentment you got when you were in the company of someone you liked. Someone who understood you. And then she spoiled it all.
‘So what sort of films does Ulla like?’ She hated herself the moment the words slipped out of her mouth and she saw Chris’s shoulders tense. Why had she brought Ulla up?
‘Films aren’t really her bag.’
‘Oh.’
A silence fell between them, and Chris reached forward, pushing various buttons as he raced through the different radio stations, finally settling on a banjo-twanging country song.
‘Don’t tell anyone I’m a closet country-music fan.’
‘Me too.’
‘You’re not!’
‘I am.’
Just like that, the easiness between them had returned, and as they rolled into Galway, they were singing along to ‘I Walk the Line’ at the top of their lungs.
The fact that Grace couldn’t sing to save herself didn’t matter at all.