Chapter Six
There’s a reason I never did drama at school.
A reason I never tried out for debate or learned an instrument or did anything that meant I’d be inviting people’s eyes.
I don’t do well under pressure. I get nervous.
I get tongue-tied. I second-guess myself and my palms get clammy.
I say things without thinking and regret them as soon as I do.
This is why I’m pleasantly surprised when I sit in Gemma’s kitchen an hour later, feeling completely serene about what just happened, even while everyone else around me clearly does not.
“This is my fault,” Adam says, as he paces up and down the small room. “I should have said something. I should have stopped you and said something.”
“But you didn’t,” I point out.
He doesn’t seem to hear me. “We can call their office. We can explain that you were upset and didn’t mean it.”
“That’s just the adrenaline talking.”
“It’s damage control,” he says sharply. “How are you not seeing this? Is it because you’re not sleeping? Is that it?”
“I’ve been sleeping fine all week,” I say, peering at Gemma’s laptop as I bookmark an article. “I’m extremely well rested.”
“Well, you’re not acting like it!”
“So we’re just yelling in my house now?” Gemma enters the room with an armful of Noah’s sports clothes and a stern glare. “That’s a thing we’re doing?”
“I wasn’t yelling,” Adam mutters, even though he kind of was. “But you shouldn’t have gotten into his face like that,” he says to me. “You realize he’s going to use this to rush the process?”
“That’s not what he said. He said he would give us a chance to prove ourselves.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. The guy could send a team down there tomorrow if he wanted to, and he probably will because you pissed him off. I figured I had another year at least to get everything in order, but now…” He shakes his head, looking ill.
“We could key his car,” Nush says from her seat beside me. “Or slash his tires. Or…” She pauses as the three of us turn to look at her. “Too far?”
Adam swings back to me. “Why did you have to do that?”
“Um, because it worked? I’m saving your business and you’re welcome?”
He looks like he wants to yell at me some more, but a throat clear from Gemma stops him. “I’ve got to get back to the pub,” he announces instead.
“The pub I just saved?”
“Katie—”
Noah appears in the kitchen doorway, cutting him off from whatever rant he was about to go on. “You’re being too loud. I can’t do my homework.” He looks to his mother. “Can I watch TV until they go?”
“Nice try,” Gemma says. “And no.”
“But I can’t concentrate.”
“Then go with Adam and do your work at Kelly’s.”
Adam shoots her a look, but Noah seems excited about the suggested change in scenery and runs out of the room before she can change her mind.
“Don’t want to be the guy that disappoints my child,” Gemma warns, when Adam goes to argue.
“I’m not minding him,” he says. “I’ve got enough to do.”
“He’ll be grand. Just don’t give him any hard liquor before five. He likes you.”
The last bit shuts Adam up, just as Gemma knew it would, but unfortunately, all that means is he returns his attention to me.
“I’ll see you later,” he says, back to boss mode. “You’re on wash-up tonight.”
“I was on wash-up yesterday,” I protest, but he ignores me, grabbing his jacket as he calls for Noah. A second later, I hear the kid’s footsteps on the stairs and the door slams shut.
“He seems tense,” Nush says, as Gemma programs the machine. The sound of running water fills the room, and she sits with a groan at the table, drawing her mug toward her.
“At least we know why he’s been in a mood for the last few weeks,” she says.
“He was in a mood?”
“He was mood ier ,” she corrects. “And now it’s only going to get worse. What the hell are we going to do?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“With the pub.”
Nush leans forward. “I still think targeting their cars sends a real message about the traffic issue.”
“I already told you what we’re going to do,” I say, confused. Adam and I had come straight here once Jack and his team left. I’d just spent the last twenty minutes explaining what happened while Adam fixed Gemma’s washing machine and grew more and more panicked.
“I mean seriously, Katie,” Gemma says now.
“I am being serious.” I spin the laptop around to show them what I’ve been looking at. “We’re going to revive the Ennisbawn Matchmaking Festival.”
Two lines slowly appear between Nush’s eyebrows as she stares at the screen. Gemma just stares at me.
“What?”
“We’re going to revive the Ennisbawn—”
“No, I heard the words,” she interrupts slowly. “I just don’t understand them.”
I smile. “Your doubt just makes me stronger. It feeds me.”
“Katie—”
“Like a flame.”
“What’s happening to Adam is awful,” she says firmly. “But there’s no legal reason Glenmill can’t—”
“I’m so glad you brought that up,” I interrupt, pointing at the screen.
I did some quick googling when I got here, and all it did was confirm what the lawyer had said back in Kelly’s.
“There are plenty of examples of companies backing down over culturally important sites. In the 1960s, civil engineers removed a fairy fort for a new road near Ballynahinch and the locals kicked up such a fuss that it made BBC news. And in 1999, in County Clare, they adjusted plans for a whole bypass to incorporate a bush because enough people were talking about it.”
“Yes, but fairy forts are real,” Gemma says. “And the matchmaking festival was just an excuse for leery men to do some leering.”
Nush looks at her in surprise. “You think fairy forts are real?”
“No,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “But they’re not not real.”
“My point is that it got publicity,” I say. “They moved a bypass! For a bush! So why can’t we keep Kelly’s for a festival?”
“Because the festival hasn’t run properly in years? We barely even had it last year. You just put up some old Valentine’s Day decorations. It’s hardly enough to get on the news.”
“Hence why we’re reviving ,” I say. “Bringing it back to its former glory. What else are we going to do? Chain ourselves to the doors?”
At this, Nush perks up, but Gemma ignores her.
“I know you’re freaking out about the pub,” she says. “We all are. None of us want to see this happen, but there’s nothing we can do.”
“We can do this,” I insist. “I got them to back down, didn’t I? Jack said he’d wait and see.”
“Because he knows you were lying! He’s playing with you. Probably so it all goes up in flames and none of us ever bother him again. Why don’t we call a meeting and see about another protest? Something we can—”
“We tried protesting,” I interrupt. “We protested for months. Nush made signs.”
“I did,” Nush says, sliding the laptop closer to her.
“None of it worked,” I continue. “None of it brought us the attention we need. This will.”
“You’ll need money to get it off the ground,” Gemma points out. “How are you going to pay for it?”
“Sponsorships.”
“From whom?”
“From people . Oh, come on!” I add, when she groans. “It’s Adam. You’ve known the guy your whole life. We can’t just abandon him like this.”
“I never said I was going to.”
“But it’s what you’re doing,” I say, and she goes quiet.
“We’ve gone down the angry letters to the council route.
We’ve done petitions. We’ve done everything short of burning the site to the ground— no ,” I add, when Nush opens her mouth.
“So, let’s try this. Let’s prove that we can bring people back to the village without destroying it. Let’s show that we can—”
“Katie.”
“Really make a difference to—”
“ Katie ,” Nush presses.
“What?” I ask, turning to her. There’s a look on her face that’s nothing short of zealous.
“I’m in.”
“What?” My tone softens by about ninety percent. “Really?”
“Yes,” she says, beaming. “I love a long con.”
“It’s not a…well, okay, it’s a bit of a con, but—”
“You’re not serious,” Gemma interrupts.
“I’m deadly serious,” Nush says. “Katie’s right; nothing else has worked. Plus, I’m really good at projects. I’m a very goal-oriented person.”
Gemma mutters something under her breath, and I swing back to her.
“I can do it without you,” I say. “But I don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I’m okay with what they’re doing,” she says. “But it’s going to be a lot harder than you think to pull off something like this.”
“So help me. Help Adam. He’ll get behind it if you will.”
“How does that check out?”
“You have an air of authority.”
She scoffs, but I can see the indecision in her eyes. Behind her, the washing machine starts spinning so rapidly it begins to shake, and Nush pouts, widening her eyes until Gemma sighs.
“This might not work,” she says. “You need to be aware of that.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re in?”
“I… fine. Yes. I’m in. Don’t hug me,” she adds, as I go to do just that. “Adam wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost that pub. I’d be a shit friend if I did nothing about it.”
I grin at her, placing my hand into the center of our little circle. Nush immediately places hers on top.
Gemma just looks at me. “Really?”
“Don’t be lame,” I moan. “Join the dream team.”
“You guys are ridiculous,” she mutters, but she puts her hand on top anyway, and the pact is complete.
I sit back, not realizing how nervous I’d been that she’d say no. “And that’s the hard part done.”
“ I’m the hard part?” she asks, sounding insulted.
“The hardest,” I shrug. “You’re a natural cynic. Now that I’ve got you and, by extension, Adam on my side, everyone else will fall in line.”
Simple.
* * *
“But the festival hasn’t run in years.”
I meet the eye of John Joe Byrne at the back of the room and force down a sigh. We’ve been having the same conversation in various guises for the past ten minutes, and I’m running out of ways to spin this thing.