Chapter 35
The taxi dropped us back in the village, just beside the grassy triangle outside the café.
And there was Henry, sitting on one of the picnic benches, the exact one we’d sat on when I’d had that horrible Guinness.
Pulling Lucy’s arm, I was about to rush over to him, feeling immediately better and knowing he could advise me about the knitting circle and come up with a plan or a new location and a better strategy.
But across from him was a beautiful woman who was sitting cross-legged. She was wearing a pair of sky-blue leggings and a loose pink vest with the words ‘I’m Kinda Kind Are You?’ She had long, frizzy hair which she kept flicking around as though her neck was made of rubber.
‘I forgot about his date,’ said Lucy, hesitating. ‘Ellie set him up. It’s someone she met on a wild-swimming weekend.’
I stared at the two of them for a moment.
The woman was using huge hand gestures as she talked and she had the kind of jaw which seemed to dislocate every time she opened it, as though she was trying to show Henry her uvula.
Her laugh could be heard back in Boston, and her hair was tangled but artfully done, as though she had taken great care to look so careless.
She now had one leg up, on the bench, her skirt pulled up to show her leg, which was adorned with silver anklets.
Patch was sitting up, beside Henry, as though he too was on the date.
‘She’s a yoga teacher and rises at 4 a.m., apparently; 9 a.m. is her lunchtime.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know.’ Lucy grinned. ‘But it’s nice for Henry, he needs a bit of romance in his life. You know, I thought the two of you were going to get it together the night of the sail. But he’s not your type, is he? He’s too nerdy for you.’
‘I like nerdy…’
But Lucy wasn’t listening. ‘Henry needs someone who likes dogs and doesn’t mind the fact that he is obsessed with boats. Perhaps a yoga teacher who gets up at 4 a.m. is better than a serial killer or…’
‘Or someone with a normal body clock.’
‘Ellie says she is into kindness, apparently. It’s her thing.’
‘Kindness is her thing?’
‘Yes, she preaches kindness. Which makes me want to throw up, but obviously I can’t say that out loud because we have to be kind. It’s clever of them, isn’t it? The “be kind” people.’
I watched them for a moment, the woman laughing at something he had said, and then Henry giving Patch something off his plate, and the woman stopped laughing, her nose wrinkling.
It was irksome, for some reason, to see this unconventional woman with Henry.
I didn’t know why I cared, exactly, or why it was any business of mine, but I had thought – stupidly!
– that he was my special friend while I was here.
I was already feeling homesick for Sandycove, knowing I would soon be back in Boston, missing my new friends and knowing that their lives would continue without me.
‘He’ll want to know about Sheila,’ Lucy was saying. ‘We’ll just go over quickly.’
We crossed the road and Henry looked up and waved.
‘Hey, how’s it going?’ said Lucy, as we hovered a little uncomfortably. Patch licked my hand, as Henry made the introductions.
‘This is Lucy and Kerry-Anne. And this is Flo.’
‘With a “w”,’ said the woman, offering only the tips of her fingers to shake.
‘What?’ said Lucy, confused.
‘My name. It’s with a “w”.’ She rolled her eyes, as though already bored. ‘It’s the curse of having an unusual name. I have to explain it over and over and over and over again.’ She looked worn out with the effort. ‘Flow! As in moving, being in the zone, your body and mind as one.’
‘Ah, flow, as in water,’ said Lucy.
‘But not tap water,’ said the woman. ‘I don’t do fluoride.’
‘Oh, right.’ Lucy managed to smile at her.
‘Any news about Sheila?’ asked Henry.
‘She’s about to be operated on,’ said Lucy. ‘Which is great. It means that there’s hope.’
‘Who’s this?’ asked Flow.
‘A friend of ours,’ said Sheila. ‘Well, she’s our grandmother’s friend, Sheila. She had a heart attack.’
Flow nodded. ‘Probably eating too much fatty food. And not fasting. Am I right? It’s the biggest sign of heart disease. She’s old, is she?’
‘She’s in her seventies,’ said Henry.
Flow nodded as though it all figured. ‘Seven decades of eating crap will do that to you. Those arteries are probably blocked. Honestly, fasting is the only way. I won’t be eating again for another thirty-six hours and I can’t tell you how amazing I feel.
Honestly, it sharpens the appetite… but not for food.
’ She glanced at Henry, who didn’t seem to be listening to her; he was looking at us, while stroking Patch’s head absent-mindedly.
‘It’s Finnuala I’m really worried about as well,’ I said.
‘Finnuala is Sheila’s best friend,’ explained Henry to Flow.
‘But I thought you said your grandmother was her friend?’ said Flow.
‘She has lots of them,’ I said. ‘And that’s the whole point. They are a community.’
‘What kind of community?’ Now Flow looked confused.
‘A knitting one,’ I said.
Henry tried to explain the events to Flow. ‘Kerry-Anne is from Boston and she helped some women from the village set up a knitting group…’
‘But it was more than a knitting group,’ I said. ‘It was a way of life. A circle of life.’
‘Exactly,’ said Lucy.
‘And Finnuala gave this battle cry of the older woman,’ I went on. ‘All about being there for each other and the knitting group was really just an excuse.’
‘A front,’ said Lucy. ‘They were knitting but really also being together.’
‘You should manifest it,’ said Flow. ‘It really works. Just manifest whatever you want and it just happens, like magic.’ She turned to Henry. ‘I manifested a tall, handsome man, with good teeth and normal-sized ears… and he appeared.’
‘Normal-sized ears?’ asked Lucy.
‘I find big ears triggering,’ said Flow. ‘Don’t trigger-shame me, please.’ She glared at Lucy. ‘Just FYI, you can’t question someone’s triggers. You just have to respect them.’ She rolled her eyes again.
‘Is he telling you about the time he sailed across the Atlantic?’ asked Lucy, making Henry laugh.
‘No,’ said Flow, ‘we’re talking about the perfect headstand. I spent yesterday fully upended and I basically entered another realm of existence, kind of nirvana.’
‘My favourite band!’ said Lucy, and now I nearly laughed but managed to smother it in time, while Flow made flicking motions with her hand to shoo us away.
‘Would you mind, but Henry and I are on a date and you’re kinda wrecking the buzz and all that. Dates are meant to be just two people. Unless you’re into polyamory.’ She turned back to Henry and opened her mouth, about to speak, but he jumped in.
‘I’m not,’ he said, firmly.
‘Right.’ Flow fixed a smile on me and Lucy. ‘So maybe you could skedaddle and let us get on with it? Next time you see two people on a date, don’t feel obliged to bother them. Okay?’ She turned back to Henry. ‘Now, where were we? So, there I was, and I began to see stars…’
Henry’s eyes met mine for a moment. This was it.
In a few days’ time, I would be back in Boston, and I wouldn’t see him again.
I probably wouldn’t see anyone ever again, there might be a few ‘how are you’ texts or promises of visits.
I wouldn’t ever again have drinks at the Harbour Bar or swim in the Irish Sea.
Perhaps Henry and Flow would fall in love?
Perhaps we were witnessing the beginning of a lifetime of happiness?
Flow tugged on Henry’s sleeve. ‘Hello?’ she said. ‘I’ll proceed, shall I? So, there was this small Indian man, tiny, wizened, ancient… he looked not unlike a walnut…’ She gave me and Lucy a look of dismissal and we took the hint.
‘Bye, Henry,’ said Lucy.
‘Bye, you two,’ he said.
Flow’s smile was more sneer.
Lucy and I only dared to speak when we were far enough away again.
‘She strikes me as officially the least kind person on the planet,’ said Lucy.
‘She certainly didn’t ooze kindness,’ I agreed.
‘Did you think Henry had the look of a hostage in his eyes? You know, where they are forced to say things they don’t want to say because someone is poking an AK-47 in their ribs?’
I thought of the look he gave me. Was he asking for help, or was he pleading for us to leave them alone? ‘Do you think he likes Flow?’
‘She’s very attractive, I suppose. I mean, I’m his sister and I don’t care who he loves, as long as he’s happy.’ She smiled at me. ‘Perhaps he wants to be held hostage by an incredibly lithe and controlling woman, who knows?’
I knew I was being unreasonably possessive about Henry and, although I didn’t think Flow was right for him, I had no right to behave in such a way.
It wasn’t as though we were anything but just good friends.
I’d only known everyone for a matter of days and now the thought of leaving them all was making me feel so incredibly sad.
And I still hadn’t found a solution to the knitting circle.
And then my phone rang. It was Johnny again.
‘Johnny, why are you calling again? I’m busy!’
‘But we’re here!’
‘Here? Where?’
‘We’ve arrived! American Airlines was impossible. Haven’t slept a wink. Granny Annie slept all the way through. She’s now finding us a cab. We should be with you in an hour. What hotel are you in again?’
They were here? Perhaps he wasn’t joking? ‘You’re in Ireland?’
‘Yes! Why are you so surprised? I told you we were coming! You’re acting like you got no advance warning.
We’re just in a line for a taxi. There’s a billion people trying to get one.
It’s like the fall of Saigon in Dublin airport.
Honestly, they need helicopters to airlift people out.
It would be easier. It took an age to get through immigration but, man, they are so nice here.
They welcomed us to Ireland! One dude said, “Welcome home, Mr Daly!” But look, I think the Big G has a cab! See you in Sandycove!’
I tried to formulate some words. But he put the phone down and I tried to explain everything to Lucy. ‘My brother and my grandmother seem to have arrived. They’re on their way.’
‘Just in time for the regatta,’ she said. ‘Talking of which, I don’t think I want to sail solo this year, I was thinking…’
But Johnny rang again. ‘Bit of news, K. We’re in a cab. And well… Granny Annie informed me that she’s from Sandycove… I know, mic drop, right?’
I was speechless.
‘Trá Beag and Sandycove are the same place,’ went on Johnny. ‘You’re in her home village. You found it!’