Chapter 18 #2
‘Hmmm.’ Then he looks away, begins to close his shirt, fastening one slow button at a time. ‘Food for thought alright. Uh-huh. Speaking of food, hungry?’ he asks suddenly, changing the subject very abruptly and moving across the cellar with purpose.
‘Em, um, am I – eh, a lot actually, I came down for dinner,’ I remember, more than surprised at the hastily shut down conversation.
‘I’ve some fruit? Yogurt?’ He offers me.
‘Eh, lovely.’ I wince as I take a step towards him on my ankle.
‘Sit down. Let me look at that?’ Dan folds over.
‘No, please, don’t fuss. It’s fine,’ I protest.
Dan ignores me and turns a barrel on its side for me to sit on. I’m still staring at him, he’s hard to read right now.
‘It’s empty, I’m not that strong. Will ya just sit down, please?’ he says, mistaking my curious stare.
I oblige as he moves behind a partition and returns with two bowls.
‘My parents always believed in snacking on fruit during the day. Like a lot of their traditions, I’ve adopted this one.
Terry thinks it’s a bit girly.’ Dan laughs and hands me a bowl with a spoon in it as he dips his own spoon and takes a bite.
I decide to give him some space and go with the change of subject.
‘They really are wonderful, inspiring people,’ I tell him and my heart aches that his mother is ill.
‘They are.’ He looks thoughtful as that sadness creeps over him again. Now I know why – he really has the weight of the world on his shoulders. I wish I could rescue him.
‘Thank you.’ I need something to distract him, I think as I chew a creamy mouthful. ‘Unfortunately, I got zero parental traditions apart from the run-a-mile-from-marriage one. I didn’t have an easy childhood.’ Unintentionally I open up to him and immediately he looks at me sympathetically.
‘Tough going?’ His lip curls.
‘Ahh, nothing like millions of other kids didn’t experience but it was hard.
Both good people but the wrong partnership, disastrous marriage,’ I tell him.
To my utter horror, a knot tightens in my stomach.
There’s a lump in my throat and I’m finding it hard to swallow the fruit.
It’s as if Dan hears the slight shake in my voice.
‘And that’s it, isn’t it?’ He pulls out a small crate and sits on it, nearer to me.
‘It’s what I’ve always said, it’s why I believe there are two people made for each other.
It’s what I believe in.’ He raises his spoon as his voice is tinged with support.
‘Love needs to be a partnership. I was lucky enough to witness that with my parents, but also unlucky enough, if you know what I mean?’
‘No, what do you mean?’ I ask in confusion, composing myself, swallowing that emotion as I scoop another spoonful up and taste the sweetest blueberries.
‘Well, I think Esther and Michael are the reason I haven’t gotten married yet.
I put their marriage on a pedestal. They had the perfect marriage, Maggie, they gave us the most wonderful childhood and it’s scary to me to settle for anything less.
It was true love.’ Dan holds his spoon aloft. ‘That got way deeper than I intended.’
‘Me too, don’t worry, I totally get it. Like I said, my parents’ marriage was so bad, I’m terrified of it.’
‘We’re a right pair.’ Dan gives a small laugh. ‘You don’t want to get married because you’re afraid it will be a disaster, I don’t want to get married because I’m afraid it won’t live up to my great expectations.’
We let that fester as we eat our fruit together. I’ve never enjoyed a comfortable silence the way I do with him. Being with Dan Delaney feels effortless.
‘You were born here, in Heartwell?’ I ask, before finishing my yogurt and clutching my bowl.
‘Yes, and you? New York?’ His soft lilting voice remains music to my ears.
‘No. At sea. Another of my insecurities, I have no idea where I belong.’ I perform a swimming action, extending my free arm out over my head and back.
‘At sea? Wow, that’s unusual alright, but New York is home now, no?’ He runs a finger around his bowl, licks it. ‘It’s beautiful in New York at Christmas. It’s like one big movie scene.’
‘You’ve been to New York? Many times?’
‘Just once, wasn’t the best trip for various reasons although I – ah, never mind it’s a long story . . .’ He stops, like something difficult has just entered his mind, I feel it in his energy again, and I just want to squeeze him.
‘It is home now and, well, for the last twenty-something years but it’s just never felt that way.’ I open up to him again, it just feels so natural.
He takes a moment before he answers me. ‘That’s tough.’ He listens so intently to me I realise. ‘But the job, magazine writer, you love that?’
‘I love to write, and I love to write about love. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But I think what I’d really like is to be my own boss,’ I tell him honestly.
‘I see. Are your parents in New York now?’ He asks me questions a lot which I love about him, just feels like he really wants to get to know me.
‘My mom, Dorothy, is. My dad, Jim, lives in Florida. I was telling you my dad’s great-great-grandparents came from Ireland and you’re right, I am that American that really wants to do my heritage tree, but it’s always been a bit awkward with my mom.
She was so hurt by my dad’s affair, we kind of avoided all talk of him. ’
‘Understandably,’ he says nodding.
‘But as soon as I landed, I just felt connected to the place, it was odd. Really odd actually.’ I watch him, that unruly hair flopping back down over his sharp features.
‘So you’ve no idea where you belong,’ he repeats almost to himself. He lets the words hang in the air of the cellar under Castlemoon. ‘Is there not a freedom in that though?’
‘How do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Well you can travel, see the world. There are no expectations of where you have to settle?’ Those undeniably sexy eyes are wide.
‘You know what, Dan, I wish I was that person. Someone who just packed a bag, slung it over their shoulder and hit the road, but I’m just not. I always think I’m like a dolphin, I just haven’t found my ocean.’
‘I love that analogy. As you now know, my ocean was written in the stars. But it isn’t what it appears, Maggie.
I inherited a title that’s in name only and I couldn’t leave Heartwell village even if I wanted to.
I can’t let this place go, but I’m not sure I can keep it going for much longer either. ’
Suddenly, I realise I have to tell him about Frederick. I have to tell him what I’ve been asked to do! I have to tell him that I know he’s selling the castle and that he’s in debt.
‘Dan, I –’ I stand up carefully now too, step in front of him. ‘I need to tell . . .’
‘Hellloooooooooooooo?’ A booming voice makes us both jump.
‘What on earth!’ I clutch Dan’s arm tightly, his bicep hard under my fingers.
‘Terry!’ Dan laughs, holding his hand up. ‘Told you he knew I was down here. It’s not the first time one of us has got stuck, but I actually forgot we were locked in here for a second.’
I release my grip and Dan picks up the bowls.
‘What did you want to say?’ he asks.
‘Helllooooooooooooooahhhhh?’ The booming voice again.
‘Another time.’ I shrug. ‘Can we talk later? How many Terry’s are there? I’ve heard his name mentioned so many times I’m curious to know what he does around here?’ I can’t just blurt it all out now, we need alone time.
‘Just the one, but one Terry is all any village needs. And he does everything. He’s my right hand man. He can do it all, can Terry and he’s due a baby any day now so fatherhood is his new priority.’
‘Oh, how lovely.’ I smile, immediately think of my poor Jill.
‘Yeah Giselle, who owns the bookshop, Cosy Reads, is Terry’s girlfriend.’ Dan laughs and stands up. ‘Giselle and Terry are getting married after their baby is born, you could talk to them for your article?’
‘My God, do you guys all just marry one another around here?’
‘Pretty much. Although Giselle is from France – she came here for the oyster festival in 2019 and she never left.’
‘Oh, yes, I saw her at Aisling and Aaron’s wedding!’ I recall her cool maternity outfit now and white side hat with the red pumps.
‘Boy, has she a fascinating story to tell about childhood. She was adopted by her mother’s sister.
By all accounts their wedding will be filled with family dramas.
Her birth mother and her adopted mother won’t have seen each other face to face in thirty years!
Imagine. Nice socks by the way,’ Dan says, extending his hand for me to take.
‘Here, careful on that ankle as you walk, lean on me.’
I look down to my feet. Oh Lord! In the hurry of getting ready I’ve pulled on two odd socks, one black and one white.
‘Oh great!’ But I laugh and, unusually, I’m not embarrassed. ‘That sounds like one drama filled wedding.’
‘Block yer ears.’
I place a hand over both ears, press my palms in.
‘Terrrrrryyyyyy. Feckin’ gate’s jammed shut again,’ Dan hollers, his own hands cupped on either side of his mouth.
Dan reaches back and wraps a protective arm around my shoulder.
He holds me tight and that protected feeling that I’ve never had before is back.
I feel utterly safe and it’s alien but wonderful.
I duck again as we head back through the cellar.
When we reach the gate, the biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life is standing there with the gate literally lifted up on his left shoulder. I almost giggle.
‘Well, you’ll never guess what I just found in the . . .’ Terry stops immediately when he sees me. ‘Oh good evening, please pardon me. I didn’t know His Lordship had company.’ He is politeness personified.
Dan releases my hand, but not before Terry clocks it and we go back up the winding stairs into the delicious heat of the Sweet Orange Room to the blazing turf fire that Terry has attended to. It’s a smell I could inhale forever. In fact, I wish I could stay here forever.
But I can’t.