Chapter Twenty-One
‘I need a drink,’ I say as we come out of the jeweller’s.
‘Me too.’ We stand side by side on the busy street.
Sean puts his hand on my shoulder and guides me into the crowded street.
Five minutes later I’m in a noisy pub with music playing and a large white wine in front of me.
Sean has a pint of the black stuff. We both take a large sip and say nothing. Then another and finally I speak first.
‘Fakes?’ I look into my wine.
‘I’m sorry. That can’t have been easy to hear.’ Sean turns his cold pint glass.
I shake my head slowly.
‘Do you know, I don’t think I even care any more. I should be angry, but in a way I’m not surprised.’ I take another gulp of the wine. ‘But that’s it. I have nothing now.’
‘You’re in shock.’
‘I never doubted they were real. Brian had everything planned – when we should buy the ring, buy the flat. He wanted everything to be right. I trusted him.’
‘Love is a risky business, a bit like oyster farming.’
‘But you keep going at it?’
‘Some things are worth the risk.’
‘Like your oyster farm,’ I manage to smile and he smiles back.
‘Exactly.’
We slip into silence, neither of us knowing what to do next.
Then Sean puts down his pint and leans forwards towards me.
He looks straight at me, his face very serious.
It makes me nervous when he does that. I feel he can read my every thought and I don’t want him to read that I’m finding him more and more attractive.
Because the last thing I want is to ever risk my heart again.
‘It meant a lot that you gave me that ring,’ he says.
‘What? The one worth two pounds fifty?’ I’m twisting my glass now.
‘You were prepared to give me everything you had.’ He puts his hand over mine to stop me twisting the glass.
‘Look, I was responsible for wrecking the place you love,’ I say. ‘I couldn’t run away from that.’
‘You’re a very honest person. You’re a good person.
And I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it about you being incompetent.
Anyone who can work like you did when they’re terrified of water has got to be pretty brave in my book.
’ He lets go of my hand and takes another sip.
The creamy foam sticks to his top lip and he sucks at it.
‘So, Brian … he was your …? I mean …’ He seems embarrassed to ask, but as Margaret has the whole story, there can’t be any harm in telling Sean.
‘I was married. Well, sort of married. He couldn’t go through with it.
Problem was, he realised that just after we signed the register and before the photos.
I thought I had everything, the real deal, and it was all fake, just like the ring.
That’s it. For me, it’s over now.’ And it is.
I shrug and am surprised at how comfortable I feel saying those words.
No tears now, the anger diffusing. ‘I may not forget it, but I would like to forgive him.’
There’s a lull while we both consider the desperate place we’re in.
‘Can I come back and work for you?’ I ask.
He sits up straight. ‘Really?’
‘I made the mess. I want to try and help put it right.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll have the money to do that, or to pay you.’ He slumps again.
‘It doesn’t matter. Let me try and think of a way,’ I say, desperate to make it up to him still.
‘Look, I’m not very good at …’ He clears his throat, ‘… trusting people.’ He clears it again. ‘Had my heart broken when I came out of prison. The girl I thought I’d marry … Anyway. I came here to look after my uncle.’
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’
‘But I think I could trust you. So, maybe there is a way still … if you really do want to stay and help?’
‘I do.’ I hold my glass tightly.
‘Drink up then. Let’s get this over and done with.’
I’m confused but feel a little shiver of excitement.
Outside the pub he lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, and then pulls out his phone. He smokes while he’s talking.
‘Yes, I heard about you through Nancy Dubois … she’s my partner. You’ve helped out other farmers like me.’
He listens, turning away from me.
‘No, no, no need to come to me. I’m in town. I’ll meet you.’
He listens again. His cheek twitches as his jaws grind against each other.
‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,’ and he slaps the phone cover shut.
I feel nervous for some reason.
Back in the van we leave the lively streets of the city centre and head out of town. I don’t know where we are, and soon it looks as if we could be in any other out of town estate, much like the ones I grew up on.
Sean pulled up in a lay-by and looked both ways before getting out of the van.
‘Wait here,’ he told Fi. The less she knew about what he was about to do, the better. He didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. The bank had blown him out. This was his only hope.
Nancy had mentioned this guy before. Everyone out Dooleybridge way knew his name.
He was a loan shark. He helped out other farmers Nancy knew, oyster farmers she’d done business with.
When times had got tough and the waters had become polluted, just before Sean’s uncle died, a lot of farmers had needed help.
That’s when Jimmy Power stepped in, offering loans to tide farmers over until the waters came good and they could sell their stock and earn a living again.
Some farmers made it and paid back what they owed, as well as the horrendous interest rates.
If they couldn’t, Jimmy Power claimed the land for himself.
But that wasn’t going to happen to Sean; he was going into this with his eyes wide open.
He pulled his coat around him against the damp drizzle and opened up the passenger door of the cream Mercedes parked in front of him in the lay-by. It looked out of place, unlike his old Transit van, the red paintwork dull and peeled due to the salty air.
Inside the Mercedes the cream colour ran on with the leather seats. The car was full of the smell of cigars and strong air freshener.
‘So, you are …?’ the wide-mouthed man, who looked like a toad, stuck out a hand dripping with gold jewellery.
‘Sean, Sean Thornton.’ Sean shook the hand briefly but didn’t want to look him in the eye.
‘Jimmy, Jimmy Power.’ He shook Sean’s hand firmly, as if making a statement.
‘So, you’re looking for a loan.’ The man pulled out a cigar from the passenger glove box and lit it.
He took a few puffs before finally opening the window.
It was all Sean could do not to cough and splutter on the smoke.
As the open window finally sucked the smoke away, Sean found he could breathe again.
‘I’m an oyster farmer. Out in Connemara. My crop just got stolen and what they didn’t take got trashed in the raid. I just need to pay my licence and get back on my feet.’
The toad sucked on his cigar and blew the smoke into the car.
‘Risky business, oyster farming,’ he sucked again. ‘Lot of farmers out your way gone out of business. It’s good building land out there. People’ll pay a lot for a water-side plot, even in this climate.’
‘I’m not having my farm turned into a building plot.
That’s where the trouble started. Everyone wanted to build bigger and better houses, borrow more money, but they drove out the real industry in the area.
The water purity levels dropped when the developers moved in.
If it hadn’t been for that, Dooleybridge would still be as well known as Clarenbridge for its oysters.
But now the waters are clean again, I can prove it.
’ Sean felt the wind go out of his sails as he finished his speech.
What was the point? This guy wasn’t going to help him. He went to get out of the car.
‘I knew your uncle. He was the stubborn type too. He’d’ve done well to accept my offer and sell me that farm.’
Sean stopped and turned. Jimmy Power was sucking on his cigar.
‘Can’t make much money, a small farm like that.’
‘It makes enough,’ Sean snapped back.
‘Clearly not, or you wouldn’t be coming to me for a loan.’
‘Ah, forget it. Some things are more important than a pocket full of cash!’ Sean turned away angrily. He’d blown it. He shoved the door open.
‘So how do I know I’ll get my money back?’ Jimmy Power said, as he sucked and studied the wet end of his cigar.
Sean took a deep breath. If there was a chance of getting the money to carry on, he had to take it.
‘You’ll get it,’ Sean said, turning back to Jimmy.
He hated dealing like this, but what other choice did he have?
His uncle would be spinning in his grave if he knew what he was doing.
But he couldn’t just walk away from the farm, not when he was so close.
His mouth was dry and he ran the back of his hand across it.
‘I just need to keep going until September.’ Sean bit his tongue, worrying he’d said too much, given too much away.
It was this or nothing. His head began to ache with the throbbing in his temples.
Jimmy Power looked at him sideways with a small smile.
His earring looked ridiculous, thought Sean, glad he’d given up his own gold hoop some years ago.
‘Tell you what then, I’ll lend you the money you’re looking for, and you pay it back in September, with interest. I’ll text you the terms, give me your number.’ He handed Sean the latest iPhone. Sean typed his number in and handed it back.
‘Of course, if you don’t manage to “get sorted” I’ll be looking to be compensated.
I’ve always fancied myself as an oyster farmer,’ he laughed, a sound like a car engine refusing to start on a cold morning.
‘My lad’ll come with you to sort out the money.
’ He pointed to ‘the lad’ waiting outside the car.
He was a younger version of the toad with a shaved head, and must have been in his thirties.
The lad was getting into the Transit van beside Fi, and Sean felt a stirring of fury as he openly looked her up and down.
He should’ve come alone. He nodded to the toad, got out of the Mercedes and opened the Transit’s door.
‘I’ll take it from here, thanks.’
‘Suit yourself.’ The ‘lad’ took two envelopes from each inside pocket of his leather jacket and slowly counted the money into Sean’s hand.
When he was done, Sean shoved the money into the glove compartment and started the engine. The lad took the hint and, with a leer, said, ‘See you in September,’ then jumped down.
The sooner he was out of there, the sooner he could get on with getting his business back on track. Because if everything went to plan, he’d be able to off this loan, no problem. And right now, he wanted to check that everything was indeed going to plan.
‘Sorry,’ Sean says as we get to the roundabout and head out of the estate. ‘I didn’t mean for you to be involved.’ He’s swinging the van as fast as possible round the roundabout and heading for the coast.
My mind is whirring. He’s got the money but how on earth is he going to repay it?
And what on earth did he have to do to get it?
Sean looks very pale and his face is set with tension.
I’m sure I can actually see his temples throbbing.
He’s obviously taking a big risk here, and it’s not like the money’s even going to go that far.
By the time he’s paid for the licence he’ll only be able to buy baby spat and that will take at least three years to grow.
This is my fault, I keep thinking, over and over again.
We drive the rest of the way back to Dooleybridge in silence.
When we pass the town I have this strange feeling of familiarity, and I like it.
It’s probably that I’m just glad to be away from that estate.
We pass Frank and John Joe going into the bookies.
The café sign has blown over in the wind and rain.
Margaret is pushing Grandad along the prom in a plastic cape.
She waves cheerily, despite the rain and the fact she’s not wearing a coat.
I wave back. Sean doesn’t. His face is set.
He’s thinking hard, but I can’t tell what about.
Finally I ask the question. ‘I don’t get it.
’ I look out of the window at the ocean, feeling like we’re racing the white horses home.
‘How on earth are you going to be able to repay that amount of money in three months? Either you’re crazier than I thought or there’s something you’re not telling me. ’
We turn off the main road, and I’m thrown from side to side as we head down Sean’s track. I can see him visibly relaxing. His cheeks aren’t twitching and there’s a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth. He pulls on the handbrake with a crunch and turns to me.
‘I really hope you have a plan,’ I say, because I don’t want to be around when Jimmy Power comes to call in the debt. And I hope for Sean’s sake it doesn’t come to that.
‘Of course I’ve got a plan,’ he says with his usual gruffness.
‘Well, what is it?’
‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing,’ he says, this time looking straight at me. A shiver runs up and down my spine.
‘Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?’ I give him a sideways glance.
He looks out to sea and for a moment says nothing.
‘I told you. I know what I’m doing.’ He taps the dashboard impatiently.
‘You’re mad! There’s nothing else here that can make you any money. Not unless you’re planning to sell up.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Well, what then?’
This time it’s his turn to give me a sideways glance, and then he suddenly breaks into a broad grin, a slightly crazy one.
‘I’ll show you.’
He’s out of the van and marching over to the sheds. Grace is greeting her master like he’s been away for a month. He comes back out of the shed carrying two lifejackets, and hands me one.
‘Put this on,’ he instructs.
I stare at it and then back at him in horror. ‘I can’t!’
‘Just put it on.’ He holds it out further towards me. ‘And then follow me.’
I put the lifejacket over my head. ‘There’s no way I’m going out on that boat.’
‘Do you want to help get me out of this mess or don’t you?’
I sort of waggle my head from side to side.
‘You’ll be fine, I promise. I’m a sailing instructor, for feck’s sake!’
‘Is there any other way?’ I ask pathetically.
‘No. Now get in the boat!’
Right now I’m not sure what or who I’m more scared of, the water or Sean.