Chapter 28
THE TEAM
The smell of freshly cut grass fills the air as I watch Dom meticulously supervise all repairs to the charming lakeside country house.
He has all the tradespeople well organised.
In the distance, I hear the boys laugh as they paint and repair what’s been left neglected for years.
Kayla, with her trusty clipboard in hand, walks around, ensuring everything is in order.
The sun radiates down, creating a picturesque glittering sheen on the lake beyond.
As I stand gazing at James, who enthusiastically tends to the garden or climbs the ladder onto the roof when needed while wearing a beaming smile, I feel the gentle warmth of the sun on my skin as it shines through a window.
It’s in these moments that Innisfree feels familiar, a place where I truly belong and worth every moment of graft that we’re putting in every day.
I yawn, my stiff limbs protesting my recent activities, as I stretch my arms towards the ceiling.
I wander downstairs, ready to tackle the next task on my checklist, kindly typed up, colour-coded and prioritised by Kayla – the project-managing dictator… I mean, director.
The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of crazy developments.
Dom knows more about plaster than I know about life: he can mix it, apply it to the walls and smooth it out with ease, completely resurfacing the whole interior.
I laugh now as I remember how my heart sank as I stepped into this dining room on day one; there was mess all over the floor, the walls were in such disrepair, chunks missing and patches of wallpaper peeling from them.
They looked as if they’d crumble at any moment.
I had no idea how we were going to make this place look habitable again.
But then Dom arrived, with a wealth of knowledge, and suddenly I felt a spark of hope.
He stumbled in wearing his work overalls, toolbelt slung across his chest, his two dogs at his heel, and instantly we could sense him taking charge.
Any doubts I had disappeared as he spoke, explaining precisely what he’d do to tackle this seemingly insurmountable task.
Liam and Finn have become like part of our family at The Lake House.
They watch everything Dom does, take the dogs for walks, grab supplies from town, haul water from the well, light campfires with twigs to grill up the fresh mackerel from the lake for lunch.
Their mother appears to be pleased that they’re outdoors and that things are staying busy.
We haven’t heard anything from Stephen McDonagh lately, which is probably for the best. They’re such wonderful boys with never-ending energy, playing outside for hours each day, chasing each other around the garden, their laughter ringing through the air.
Their youthful playfulness is contagious, and I can never help but smile as I watch them run around, carefree and unburdened by the weight of the world. As it should be at that age.
James continues to fascinate me. Each day after his hours at the office are up, his true spirit emerges like a butterfly from its cocoon.
He roars up to the house in his battered jeep, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, now stained with dirt and grease from his labour – his baseball cap shading his face from the sun.
His new vocation is to build door frames, pull weeds, plant seeds and fix leaks.
It’s incredible how quickly everyone has grown attached to each other; forming an unlikely bond in such a short space of time. We’re all just trying our best to make our little piece of the world better – one small act at a time.
As I stepped into The Lake House that first day, I was overwhelmed by the memories and belongings of many decades past. It’s my mission to make sure every inch of the property is cleared out, leaving no stone unturned.
I started with the living room, sorting through all the furniture and other items, finding myself occasionally pausing to take in some of the stories that must’ve been hidden between them.
Kayla came up with a system for me – anything that could be used again had to be sorted into three categories: Save, Recycle or Donate.
With Jacinta and Fintan’s help after their shops close, we work diligently late into the night to ensure everything gets put in its rightful place.
Once the living room had been sorted through, it was time to move on to bigger projects – like the bedrooms and kitchen.
The task of clearing out these areas seemed daunting at first, but as more and more volunteers joined us – led by Dom – we’ve managed to make good progress.
And around me as I’ve emptied old chests, walls have been painted, tiles laid down and cupboards installed – transforming each area bit by bit until there’s little left to do but admire our hard work.
Finally, it came time to tackle the study – a dark corner situated at one end of the house which hadn’t been touched in years.
We cleared out old files and papers in record time before moving on to bookshelves full of forgotten books and trinkets, which would eventually find their way onto charity-shop shelves or be donated directly to those who needed them most. We also found Mick’s old guitar, which he’d used when he was younger; it brought a tear to everyone’s eye as they remembered his love for music.
We decided that it should be given to Grace McDonagh, who was forging her music career and bringing such joy to so many at The Tap House.
When we told her the news, she was overwhelmed and couldn’t believe we still had it after all these years.
She thanked us all and proudly carried the guitar away with her.
With all the rooms cleared out, it was time to turn our attention outdoors; James had come up with a plan to clear out the garden and repurpose some of the materials found there.
We set off in search of items that could be reused, collecting old wood, bricks, stones and metal to create new structures within the grounds.
Everyone (especially Finn and Liam) grew excited as they began to envision what this space could become – a place for people young and old to relax in or even host events.
The work took a little longer than expected, but eventually we settled on a design we were happy with – an outdoor cinema with some seating areas and a wooden deck for people to enjoy barbecues or picnics on sunny days.
This way, we figured it gave the best chance for sale to people that may want to set up a B yet I also feel as if I’ve been part of something everlasting – a project which will help others find peace in themselves and their surroundings, no matter how old they are.
I consider my newly formed family, and I know without a doubt that each person here has made an impact which will reach far beyond these walls.
As I look around the kitchen, and dining and living rooms, I can see such a dramatic difference: how the new paint glistens and the wooden floorboards shine.
In just a couple of weeks, the house has transformed before my eyes.
The place breathes a little easier now that the rooms are opened, as if they’ve awakened from a long, deep slumber.
The Lake House officially looks like a home worthy of living in once again – something I couldn’t have imagined at first. It’s come back to life; rooms are filled with laughter, conversations and an occasional bout of spirited debate.
As we work together towards a common goal, I can’t help but feel that something special is being created here – more than just a beautifully restored house by a lake; a sense of hope. I take a deep breath, letting the peace of the place envelop me.
Dom, seemingly attuned to my thoughts, remarks with a half-smile, ‘This place is special, that’s for sure – perfect spot by the lake.
’ He leads me over to the pier and inspects the gaps in the wood, the rusty nails sticking out.
‘It’s not safe just yet,’ he says, ‘but it won’t take much.
’ He hands me a hammer and screws, and I busily start to work while he looks around for more tools.
We spend the rest of the day fixing up the pier and shoreline; mending broken boards, painting over rusty rails, adding planks here and there.
As we work, I take in all that this place has to offer – lush greenery, birds singing in nearby trees, rabbits darting across our path.
The peace of The Lake House is palpable; worries slip away with each passing moment.
At sundown, we sit on a bench overlooking the lake. Dom lights a cigarette as we watch the stars appear one by one in the night sky. Neither of us speaks for what feels like hours, but it’s comfortable – like an old friend, you don’t need to talk all the time to stay connected.
Finally, Dom breaks the silence. ‘You know, Daisy… you may want to make this your permanent home,’ he says with a small smile before standing up and wandering back inside.
I’m left alone on the bench watching him go. Reality check is that London’s calling. Ash is waiting, the deadline is looming and funds are low.
But his words linger, as if he knows something I don’t.