Chapter 13 #2
‘Ah sure, how would ya? There was a gang of us and only one of you. Now the big Castlemoon céilí is on this Friday night, would you like to buy a ticket? It’s a fundraiser.
’ Kate shakes the bucket furiously up and down.
‘It’s a dance, a traditional Irish knees-up, ten euro a ticket, plus you’ll get a nice plate of Betsy’s chilli thrown in.
’ Kate does a little jig on the spot. ‘And if ya could spare any change to this secret bucket fund that would be awesome.’
‘I leave for New York early on Sunday morning,’ I inform her, apologetically, ‘but I’ve got to write up my article and submit it before I go.
I don’t think I’ll be able to attend but I will buy a ticket anyway to support.
’ Reaching into my satchel, I pull out my purse, flick through my dollars in search of euro notes.
‘You hope you leave for New York, if Faith holds off.’ Kate nods to the small TV mounted on the wall as a yellow banner runs across the bottom of the screen warning of a snow storm they are calling Faith on the way.
‘Faith? You give your storms names?’ Amused, I search for some euro notes.
‘Oh yeah, they all have names. Every storm gets christened here in Ireland. Storm Emma was one of our greatest, she is Mother Nature after all,’ Kate says as a passer-by drops a handful of coins into the bucket.
‘Thank you, Bucko, I hope Theresa gets better soon, woeful dose going around. I know Syd is waiting on those new tablecloths she’s making him for the Airbnb,’ she calls after the man.
He just raises his hand in the air and gives her a thumbs up.
‘Does everyone know each other around here?’ I question, genuinely impressed.
‘Heartwell’s big in heart but small in community. No secrets around here.’ Again, she shakes the black bucket as people pass by not missing a beat.
Not sure about that, I think. For one, Castlemoon is definitely up for sale. But I’m here to do my own job and that is the only thing that is my business.
‘As you know, I’m interested to learn more on the folklore of the lasting marriages at Castlemoon.
The longevity of the romances will be so inspiring to our readers.
The zero divorce rates! But I saw how you seemed a little devastated you can’t marry at the castle, so I was wondering if we could chat about that and if I could pick your brain, Kate?
Ask you a few more questions? Maybe about that couple you all mentioned – Esther and Michael, wasn’t it?
’ I ask politely while trying not to feel uneasy about the castle fundraiser.
‘I am gutted, Maggie. I mean I try not to dwell. It’s out of my hands.
We’re getting married at the Moritz Hotel on the outskirts.
It’s only a small wedding. But I’m happy to help ya and chat to ya?
Follow me,’ Kate sing-songs, side-stepping two girls twirling under each other’s linked fingers and outstretched arms. ‘Dance up the front, there’s good girls, yiz’ll do yerselves an injury down here dancin’ on the sawdust,’ Kate tells them as they twirl away in dizzying circles towards the front of the bar.
‘I didn’t mean right now.’ I reach across to put my hand on Kate’s shoulder.
‘If ya don’t get me now, ya mightn’t get me again.
I’ve a busy life. I work two jobs. I work up the castle as a server and in Jimmy’s family’s market all weekend.
Not to mention my volunteering to fundraise.
’ Kate shakes the bucket again and turns away so I jump off the stool, my satchel tightly clutched under my arm.
Kate, who’s already headed out towards the back of the bar, is disappearing through two green slatted swinging doors.
I follow, twisting and turning myself through the heaving, happy holiday crowd, and push the doors open behind Kate.
‘There you are.’ I heave a sigh of relief, as the doors flap and then shut. It’s quieter and cooler back here as Kate plonks the bucket on a round high table and drinks from a pint of an orange-coloured drink that’s sitting on it.
‘So then.’ Kate wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Whaddya wanna know?’
‘Everything you can tell me. I always put myself into the shoes of the reader. I’d want to read all about all the romances of this village because I feel it everywhere.
I want to know about the marriages in Castlemoon that have lasted a lifetime.
Mostly, though, I’d love to talk to you about why you wanted so desperately to marry there, Kate?
You mentioned being the first of your siblings not to marry there.
You all believe in the magic?’ I blurt everything in one go.
‘Oh, we believe because it’s all true! You just mentioned Esther and Michael – they themselves celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary in Castlemoon just last weekend.
Pity ya weren’t here then, we all had a hooley.
Dan even stayed after midnight, which in itself is a miracle! ’ Kate drains her orange now.
Just the very mention of his name makes my stomach swirl.
‘It’s simple. Jimmy and I can’t afford it. We both work two jobs, but the castle has become just too expensive. Aisling and Aaron could barely afford it and Aaron’s a successful builder with his own company and Aisling’s a midwife.’ Kate’s lip wobbles.
‘It really means that much to you,’ I state. It’s not a question.
‘I can’t even tell you. I believe in the blessings that getting married under that roof brings to a couple. I truly do.’ Kate sniffs lightly, her shoulders slump.
‘I understand.’
‘As I said, just look at Esther and Michael.’ Kate rubs her nose roughly.
‘Oh yes, I’d love to talk to them!’
‘Say what? You’re writing an article on Castlemoon and you haven’t interviewed them yet?
Esther and Michael are Castlemoon! Can’t believe you legit haven’t talked to them!
They live in the Little White Cottage, right across the road here, down the crooked path, past the old phone box that now a free book box.
If it’s a real love story you’re after then look no further than the—’ Kate suddenly gets distracted, craning her head to look over my shoulder at the noise of the flapping green doors.
‘Dan!’ She grabs the bucket and puts it behind her back then cocks a hip, slides her hand on it as Dan steps in. My breath quickens, my head muzzled at the sight of him once again.