Chapter 16
THE LOCALS
Fintan looks at the sky from the window, storm clouds gathering. ‘I hope you girls brought clothes for all weather – can be changeable this time of year – one moment sunshine, the next thunder and lightning.’
We shake our heads. ‘Actually, our suitcases never made it from London – all we have is what we’re wearing.’
Jacinta gasps, taking in me in my T-shirt and jeans and Kayla in her tiny jacket and heels.
‘Well, we can’t have that! Listen, call into my shop tomorrow – I have a boutique!
It’s called Jacinta’s, so you can’t miss it.
Everyone knows me – if you get lost, just ask and they’ll point you in the right direction. ’
Fintan winks at us. ‘Thrift shop – like a bazaar in there, second-hand, you know.’
She knocks him in the ribs. ‘You wouldn’t know a boutique if it bit you on the nose, Fintan. Anyway, I have all sorts – shoes, coats, dresses, jewellery, bric-a-brac of every description, a bit of everything. I’ll make sure you girls are kitted out for whatever the weather brings.’
We grin at each other, relieved that we have someplace to find some clean clothing to get us through till our bags arrive.
Fintan smirks. ‘Yes, you’ll fit right in after Jacinta has given you a makeover – be sure to call in to me next door at the newsagents; I like a good laugh. Two young ladies from London wearing the latest trends from Jacinta’s boutique!’
Jacinta just smiles.
Fintan turns back to us. ‘You two will have a grand time in Innisfree for sure… it’s been a pleasure talking; now I’m going to get some shut-eye until we reach the next stop.’
Jacinta winks at us as he dozes off.
We pass farmland, streams and small country lanes filled with hedgerows draped with ivy and wildflowers, cows with their calves grazing on the roadside and tiny villages of stone houses and single-storey shops with smoking chimneys.
I wonder about the lives behind those doors.
The farmers coming home for lunch after their morning of working in the fields, children sitting up at the kitchen table doing their homework, sheepdogs napping in the afternoon sunlight…
I look out the window, my eyes searching for a hint of the past, something that I can recognise, that gives a clue as to who my mother was.
I long for the memories I don’t have, to connect the dots, colour in the blank spaces.
But all I can find are signs of a life that had carried on, without a trace of her.
Sadness washes over me as I realise that the times my mother had known are as far away as they are dear to me.
I put down the sketchpad Fintan gifted me earlier and close it carefully, allowing my thoughts to drift away as I do so.
‘This is like a dream,’ Kayla says. ‘I feel like we’ve stepped into a fairy tale.’
‘Hope it has a happy ending,’ I tell her.
The bus pulls up to the tiny village of Innisfree, and I can’t help but be taken aback by its quaint charm.
Picturesque buildings line the town square, each one painted in cheery pastel shades and with window boxes overflowing with vibrant blooms. Pubs and restaurants bustle with locals and tourists alike. It’s gorgeous.
We help Fintan and Jacinta with their heavy bags.
‘Much appreciated,’ says Jacinta, her soft gaze focusing on me.
‘Your mother was a good woman. I’m glad she now has somewhere in Innisfree to call home.
And I may be speaking out of turn here… but talk to Moya Collins if you get the chance; she can be a hard one to pin down, an even harder one to crack open, but Moya and Rose were childhood friends as I remember.
’ She wraps a scarf around her neck and ties it tight under her chin to ward off the rising winds.
‘She lives in a caravan by the lake,’ she adds as she sets off.
Fintan grabs me gently by the wrist. ‘But be careful, won’t you? Of who you talk to and what you say. Some people around here don’t like being asked questions about what’s gone before.’ He casts a sideways glance, leans in and whispers, ‘This place has a habit of claiming its own.’
A chill runs up my spine at these words – was it a warning or just old superstition? I look around the unfamiliar town. The truth is, I don’t know what to expect here, and now part of me is wondering if I’ll get the warm welcome that I’ve been hoping for.
The sky darkens as clouds, like massive grey beasts, race across the horizon.
Soon, big fat raindrops begin to pour down from the heavens like tears from an endless mourning sky.
The weight of it settles on Fintan’s shoulders like a shroud, and with one last determined nod, he strides towards the square, his black coat billowing out behind him like the wings of a raven in flight.