Chapter 25
THE NEIGHBOUR
We pull into the gravel driveway, and I step out of the jeep, taking in the postcard-perfect scene before me.
The house, a lovely mix of rustic charm and old-world elegance, has unquestionably seen better days.
But somehow, those imperfections only add to its beauty.
The sapphire-blue lake gleams in the distance, surrounded by the lush, green hills of the Irish countryside.
‘So here it is,’ James says.
‘Just look at this place,’ I remark. ‘It’s absolutely breathtaking.’
James nods in agreement, eyes wide as he takes in the lake’s glassy surface, the blue-streaked sky and wisps of white clouds. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’
I breathe in the fresh air, rippling through wildflowers and rustling the lake’s surface. We observe the meadow, dotted with white-fleeced sheep grazing peacefully in the sun. I point to a group of cows lazily shifting in the grass. ‘Nice neighbours!’ I laugh.
James extends his arm to me, and together we walk along the rugged trail, admiring the expanse of sky above us.
Out of nowhere, a fox appears from its hiding place, its yellow-gold eyes gleaming with a wild glint.
It lets out an almost human-like laugh before darting away and disappearing back into the shrubs.
A dark figure stands alone atop the hill, her face obscured by long tendrils of black hair whipping around it.
James waves his arm in recognition and calls out, ‘Moya!’
But instead of coming to meet us, she shrinks back from view.
James takes a deep breath and turns towards me. ‘You’ll meet her eventually. She’s not been herself since Mick died.’
As we make our way towards the house, I feel the weight of my unanswered questions about my mother pressing against me with each step.
A gruff voice bellows, ‘What do you think you’re doing here? Get out!’
James and I startle.
‘Speaking of neighbours,’ says James as he holds up his hand.
I turn to see a scruffy middle-aged man standing with a pair of large dogs, who are barking viciously as they tug on their leashes. He glares first at James, then me, brandishing an enraged fist in the air. But the man’s face slowly turns from angry to suspicious.
‘Ah it’s you again, always bringing trouble, O’Connor… Are you bringing more waifs and strays? We thought we’d seen the end of that malarkey when Mick passed. He was at least responsible for them, and they minded their own business.’
James lowers himself to crouch in front of the dogs, rubbing their bellies with both hands. In an instant, they switch from snarling beasts to docile bundles of fur, eagerly awaiting the scratches that James provides. ‘I understand, Dom,’ he says. ‘But this isn’t what you think.’
Dom makes a dismissive noise. ‘And what do you know? That place is now a doss house. Parties with loud music, alcohol, drugs and all kinds of immorality. I confronted them last night. I said that next time I would show up with a shotgun.’
I inquire, ‘Is it the people in the woods?’ This must be who Stephen had been referring to with such contempt in his voice when talking about the eco-warriors, suggesting they were the cause of all the destruction and disorder at the house.
Dom shakes his head, still looking at me with a little suspicion. ‘No, those folks are fine; harmless hippies if you ask me. It’s some of the local gangs from neighbouring towns, always searching for vacant properties to use for their bad business and dirty work.’
James stands there, arms folded, intently listening to what Dom has to say. ‘Well now, you’ll be pleased to hear—’
But Dom continues talking without paying attention, his voice rising in pitch.
‘I never sleep with both eyes closed, and I always have my pitchfork handy. There’re all sorts of creatures roaming the area.
I can hear them stirring, like pests. I will not wait any longer for this alleged benefactor.
My petition to the council is on its way – that place needs to be razed to the ground, demolished before it brings the whole village down with it.
I want this to stop, right now, O’Connor. You hear?’
He has an earthy, musky smell of smoke and general dampness.
As I open my mouth to introduce myself, I notice the man’s right eye begin to twitch.
‘Hi, I’m Daisy Clarke. Nice to meet you,’ I say.
‘Clarke?’ he queries, his gaze narrowing as he turns it towards James.
‘Rose Clarke’s daughter; we found her in London – just in time. Rose has since passed, but Daisy is here now, Dom. We’ve just gone through the paperwork at Dad’s office. Things are on the up.’
Dom’s gaze sweeps over me as he mutters a prayer, blessing himself with a solemn nod. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss – may her spirit find solace in God’s embrace.’ His head bows as he reaches up to make the sign of the cross.
I give my thanks to him, and I suppress an urge to press for more information on my mother; another person who remembers her, another possible clue towards understanding her better.
He steps forward, slowly scanning my features with his deep-brown eyes.
‘Rose and Moya were really mistreated for no reason. They never did anything wrong, but people didn’t take the time to get to know them, so they just assumed the worst because they were travellers – easy for people to tar everyone with the same brush if you don’t know better.
But that’s it, small town, small minds as they say… ’
‘Traveller? What do you mean?’ I ask.
Dom raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean what do I mean?’ He gives me a questioning look. ‘You don’t know what a traveller is? You didn’t know that your mother was a traveller?’ he says, seeming more befuddled than me.
‘Daisy, your mother and Moya both lived on caravans here, on Mick’s land for… well, as long as I remember, and their people before them. You come from a long line of travellers that passed through these fields, worked this land and set up home in Innisfree.’
I nod slowly, trying to process all the information being thrown at me. I glance at James, still a bit confused. ‘I know of travellers, but I’m not completely familiar with what it means.’
‘Travellers are a community of people who move from place to place living in caravans,’ he explains patiently.
‘They don’t stay in one area for too long and often travel the whole country.
’ He pauses for a moment before continuing.
‘It can be a hard life, with many laws and restrictions that they must abide by. But some choose to leave the travelling life behind and settle down in one area.’
I take it all in, my head spinning with questions. ‘So why was it just my mum and Moya here? Where was the rest of Mum’s family?’ I ask softly.
Dom takes a deep breath before answering.
‘Your mother was running away from something, or someone – we’re not sure what exactly – but she found refuge here until she was ready to move on.
’ He nods towards James. ‘Your father helped out – Mick explained the situation, and he gave up some of his time to help with reading and writing letters, filling out forms and the like.’
I guess that’s how Jonathan tried to give back, to atone, to make things right again. It sounds like it may have worked.
‘Things aren’t always easy for travellers,’ Dom continues sombrely, ‘they face discrimination from locals because they’re different – prejudice is alive and well in small towns like this.
’ He pauses again, looking down at the ground before continuing more quietly.
‘And there will always be those who take advantage of the vulnerable – which is why we need to protect them.’ He gives me a knowing look before turning away and nudging James with his elbow. ‘By my life, spitting image!’
A smile twitches on my lips. I’m coming to love being recognised as my mother’s daughter – somehow it feels like she’s still here in some way, still connected.
We chat easily as James explains to Dom that we’ll be working on the house over the next few weeks so that should put a stop to anyone thinking it’s vacant and attracting unwelcome visitors.
‘Glad to hear it – and I’m here to lend a hand with whatever you need.
I might not be as fast up and down a ladder as times gone by, but I do know a thing or two about fixing up old houses; I’ve done my fair share of patching things up over the years.
’ Dom pats me on the arm and says, ‘You’re part of this now, Daisy, part of something bigger.
’ He lets out a deep chuckle and rubs his chin.
His toothless grin widens as he says, ‘The apple never falls too far from the tree.’ His hand, calloused from years of hard work, grasps mine.
‘You look just like Mick. In fact, I’d say you’re even prettier.
’ He laughs out loud and smacks his thigh.
Did he say Mick? I furrow my brow; he must have muddled his words. He must have meant Mum. Not wanting to embarrass Dom by pointing out his mistake, I glance over at James, hoping for some kind of validation that nothing is amiss.
But James just gives me a small smile and scuffs his shoe against the ground before saying simply, ‘I agree. That very thought had crossed my mind.’
We watch Dom disappear from our sight, and my mind is filled with questions. Before I can ask them, James takes off in front of me, at pace. I quickly try to catch up with him, so I can get to the bottom of what Dom said.
‘What was the meaning of that?’ I cry out into the wind, but my words fall on deaf ears.
He doesn’t answer, and his steps pick up speed as he marches away from me.
‘James!’ I yell after him. ‘Is he saying my mum is a traveller and Mick is my father? Is that it?’
He stops and turns to face me, his hands raised in surrender. ‘I don’t know!’ he says slowly, scrutinising me for any signs of emotion before continuing. ‘You may never know.’
My body stiffens, and I clench my teeth together to keep any other words from coming out. He’s right, of course. I may never get to the truth, and it isn’t James’ responsibility to tell me about my history. It’s not fair to expect anything from anyone here.
We walk in silence, surrounded by unspoken questions.
I’d been hoping for something more concrete, but deep down inside, I knew there was more to this story, that somehow I’m just scratching the surface.
But I can’t rely on others to piece it all together for me.
To find out the rest of it, I have to do the work myself.
James touches my shoulder lightly and speaks in a reassuring tone. ‘Daisy, I can’t give you all the answers you want, but I can bring you to The Lake House, if you’re ready?’ he offers.
I look up at him, my heart beating fast with anticipation. I slowly nod and meet his gaze, feeling a tingle run down my spine as his eyes hold mine.
‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘I’m ready.’
He smiles gently and removes his hand from my shoulder. ‘Then let’s go.’