Chapter 45
Back on the harbour, Charlie was wrapped in silver foil, his lips blue, while his father and grandfather looked unimpressed.
The two Sarahs hugged Lucy. ‘Well done, Luce,’ one of them said.
‘We didn’t see what happened until we had turned to face the beach,’ said the other one.
‘We couldn’t lift him in the boat, though,’ said Lucy. ‘Sarahs, this is Kerry-Anne Daly.’
They shook my hand in turn.
‘We were gutted when we heard that you were entering our class, Lucy,’ one of them said. ‘We thought we had no chance.’
‘And we wouldn’t have,’ said the other Sarah, ‘if it hadn’t been for Charlie.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ said Lucy. ‘You know I haven’t sailed much this year.’
The two women nodded sympathetically. ‘It’s great that you’re back. You’ll win it next year and we’ll just enjoy our win this year.’
Henry walked over to us, hugging Lucy, and then turned to me.
‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Loved it,’ I said. ‘But you won, well done!’
‘I’ve been doing it all my life,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a good boat and I know the waters really well.’
I noticed Johnny looking at him approvingly and then at me, his eyebrows raised.
I gave him a look back. But our attention was on Granny Annie, who was walking towards us, her and Eddie with linked arms, the two of them with the biggest grins on their faces, as though they’d just come off the Space Mountain rollercoaster.
‘So you can sail,’ I said, before hugging her.
‘Oh, I thought I’d forgotten how to do it, but it’s all coming back to me.’ She smiled at Eddie. ‘And Rosie was in perfect health. You looked after her, Eddie. Thank you.’
‘My own father built that boat,’ said Eddie. ‘He knew what he was doing, all right.’
A voice on a loudhailer sounded. ‘Will all finalists please make their way to the podiums. The prizes will now be presented.’
Mrs DeCourcey had a cup of tea resting in her lap, a biscuit tucked on the saucer. Granny Annie stood close to Mrs DeCourcey’s chair, Eddie next to her, Mary on the other side of Mrs DeCourcey. The rest of us stayed in a pack, while our leaders discussed what was happening in low voices.
‘So the Dalys are disrupters, then?’ Henry leaned into me, but Johnny answered.
‘It’s not the Dalys,’ he said, ‘it’s our O’Sullivan blood. We get all our fire from my grandmother’s side of the family. I was telling Oprah about it the other day.’
‘WHAT?’ Ellie pushed in closer. ‘You didn’t say Oprah, did you?’
Johnny nodded, preening, enjoying his brush with celebrity. ‘We did her orchard in Montecito…’
People seemed slightly electrified by Johnny’s revelations and Johnny, being Johnny, played to the gallery.
‘It’s like being around God when you’re with Oprah,’ he went on. ‘She’s wise and warm, and gives the most incredible hugs, as though love is being squeezed into you. You know?’
People nodded, imagining these hugs and wanting one for themselves.
‘And she listens like you really matter, like what you say is important, as though just by being human you do more than exist, you are part of the universe…’
‘I would love to feel like that, just once,’ said Ellie. ‘Just for a moment. To be hugged like that. And listened to.’
‘I know, right?’ said Johnny. ‘And she’s hilarious. She can have a laugh and she loves a drink. I taught her how to make a Hugo Spritz and she—’
‘What’s a Hugo Spritz?’ asked Henry.
‘You’ve never had a Hugo Spritz?’ Johnny was shocked. ‘Well, we’ll have to remedy that. Is there a good liquor store here?’
‘Off-licence,’ I explained.
‘There is,’ said Ellie. ‘And you can tell us all about Oprah.’
‘We can make you a Sandycove Sling,’ said Lucy. ‘Kerry-Anne is particularly partial to those.’
‘We can teach you how to make them,’ I told Johnny, who was always keen to increase his aperitif repertoire.
‘Why don’t you all stay for longer?’ Lucy suggested. ‘We’re all going to miss Kerry-Anne.’
‘Really?’ asked Johnny. ‘I can’t imagine why.’
I gave him a swipe.
‘Oh, but we are,’ insisted Lucy. ‘Me and my cousin Henry especially. He adores her. Don’t you, Henry?’ She was smiling at him, a strange expression on his face. ‘He’s just mad about your sister. He lights up when she’s around.’
Henry had lit up, but this was more of an embarrassed glow, as he looked crossly at Lucy. ‘She’s gone mad,’ he said. ‘It’s the sea air. She’s not used to it.’
Johnny just looked at me, with a silly facial expression as though he had so much to say but was refusing to say it. Meanwhile Lucy looked unrepentant, giving Johnny a wink. I caught Henry’s eye and smiled at him. I couldn’t help myself, and he rolled his eyes.
‘Families are so annoying,’ he said. ‘Pity we can’t throw them back like fish.’
‘Shhh. Shhh.’ Betty was shushing everyone because the men in brown suits and Matty were trooping out of the marquee and up onto the stage.
Granny Annie and Eddie had linked arms, and her left hand was holding Mrs DeCourcey’s.
Mary had her hand on Mrs DeCourcey’s shoulder, their eyes fixed on the stage.
The Richmonds stood on one side, glowering.
The mayor tapped the microphone. ‘Is this on? Right, now, after deliberations and one or two acrimonious and rather uncalled-for, if I may say so, remarks…’ He glared at Matty. ‘The committee of the regatta has decided to…’ He paused. ‘We have decided to retain the Lolly DeCourcey Cup.’
We all let out a huge cheer and whoops.
‘However! However!’ He signalled for silence. ‘We have decided to also award the Oliver Richmond Cup for endeavour, for the sailor who has shown a great example of resilience and courage.’
There was subdued clapping from the crowd and Granny Annie turned to Mrs DeCourcey. ‘What do you think, Mrs DeCourcey? They have retained the cup. Lolly’s name is preserved.’
Mrs DeCourcey looked unimpressed. ‘I think,’ she said, icily, ‘it’s probably the best we’ll receive from these shower of eejits.’
The Richmond duo looked utterly fed up, William and Oliver gazed at each other with eyelids half-closed, their mouths squeezed tight. ‘This fecking village.’ William shook his head, talking in a low voice to his father. ‘Surrounded by idiots.’ He saw that I had overheard and fixed me with a look.
Barry Kelleher, the wispy-haired man from the council, stood on the stage.
The wind from the sea buffeted the little hair he had and it wafted above him.
Beside him, Matty – wearing a badly knitted and minuscule scarf – stood holding a large silver cup and grinning at the crowd and gave me a big thumbs up.
Barry cleared his throat. ‘And so, the Lolly DeCourcey Cup will be awarded to Henry Campbell who, ahem…’ – he allowed himself a small smile – ‘sailed to victory. And the new sailing prize, now known as the Oliver Richmond Cup, will go to… Charlie Richmond. Which is nice, isn’t it, Charlie?’
‘But he sank his boat,’ said Lucy to me. ‘And we had to rescue him.’
But Charlie was looking quite pleased, like a child given a bag of sweets after crying, a small triumph in an unjust world.
Henry patted him on the back in congratulations and Charlie looked gratefully at him in return.
Barry Kelleher spoke into the microphone again, his voice breathy from the excitement. ‘Perhaps, our two winners would come onto the stage and accept their cups. Or rather, there is only one cup, and we will acquire a further cup and have it engraved. Come on stage, lads!’
There was cheering and clapping as Henry – and Patch – and Charlie went up on stage.
Charlie grabbed the microphone. ‘Hello, Sandycove!’ he shouted. ‘Are you all right? Are you ALL RIIIIGGGGHT?’
‘He thinks he’s on the stage at Wembley,’ said Lucy.
The two older Richmonds rolled their eyes.
‘I just want to say that even though I had to get towed back in today,’ Charlie went on, ‘it’s a life lesson.
You may be sunk, but you’re not drowned.
’ He paused for the applause, which was a smattering at best. But the lukewarm reception didn’t dint his enthusiasm.
‘Great phrase, right? I made it up. Kind of. Okay, then, you got me… I saw it on Instagram. But I’m going to have it printed on T-shirts and that’s my new business.
They’ll be available in all good shops, made locally…
well, in China, and designed by AI, but they were thought about right here in Sandycove!
So, next year, I want to look out and see everyone wearing a Charlie Richmond T-shirt.
’ He turned to Matty. ‘You too, Matty. An improvement on that scraggy thing around your neck.’
Matty looked offended.
Charlie was now seeing himself as the star of the show and returned to face the crowd.
‘Now, to continue with the ceremony, I do want to pay tribute to my sparring partner, Henry Campbell, who won the race today, fair and square. Good on you, Henry.’ He shook his hand, while Patch bared his teeth and growled.
‘Enjoy it, Henry,’ he laughed, ‘because next year, I’ll be lifting the Lolly DeCourcey Cup…
’ He looked down at his father and grandfather who were looking at him with barely concealed contempt.
‘I mean, I won’t be lifting that one, I’ll hopefully be lifting the Oliver Richmond Cup again… ’
‘Who’s this village idiot?’ asked Johnny to me and Lucy.
‘He’s the klutz who nearly drowned me last year because of his sheer incompetence,’ said Lucy.
And then it was Henry’s turn to take the microphone. ‘We don’t normally make speeches at the regatta, but Charlie has started a precedent.’
Charlie nodded, proud of this small achievement.
‘But there’s a few people I want to acknowledge,’ went on Henry.
‘This regatta is about community, it’s about the village having a day together.
And this summer, something which was so important to the lifeblood of Sandycove had a bit of a renaissance with the knitting circle which we need to continue.
It was Finnuala and Sheila who worked so hard to bring it back and, obviously, we are all thinking of them both.
Also my grandmother Mary Campbell and all the other women who are creating something new and vibrant for our village.
I also want to honour Mrs DeCourcey who began this groundbreaking business and she is with us today.
And I want to pay tribute to Lolly DeCourcey, for whom this cup I am holding is named.
It’s fifty years since she died, but today is for remembering her. ’
I thought about the old knitting circle and how transformative it had been to Sandycove’s women back in those days, and how it still could be.
If only we had somewhere for everyone to gather.
And then I had an idea. I leaned down to Mrs DeCourcey.
‘We need a venue. For the knitting circle. Somewhere to go…’
‘And?’
‘And I thought…’
‘That I would offer my house?’
‘Yes.’
‘My drawing room and the use of my kitchen? And my downstairs cloakroom?’
‘Exactly.’ I smiled at her.
She stared back. ‘I’ll have to think about it.’
‘Well, don’t take too long because our women need somewhere to go. And I am returning to Boston soon and I have to have them all sorted before I go.’
‘I’ve thought about it…’
‘Yes?’
‘Starting from today, my drawing room is at the disposal of the knitting circle. Whenever they require it.’
I grabbed her arm, perhaps a little too hard. ‘Thank you! Thank you!’
There was one person I needed to tell about the fact that we now had a permanent home for the knitting circle, one not dependent on rent or grants or people like the Richmonds, and that was Finnuala. Perhaps knowing this would ease her burden, and also help Sheila.
‘Where are you going?’ Henry called as I was walking across the grass, back to the main road to hail a cab.
‘The hospital. To see Finnuala and Sheila. Mrs DeCourcey says we can use her house for the knitting circle.’
‘That’s great news. Would you like me to come with you?’
‘You stay. You’re man of the moment.’
He laughed. ‘I think the moment has passed already. There’s a party being held this evening in the Harbour Bar. Are you coming? Will we see you again… I mean, when are you going back to Boston?’
‘Monday morning. Granny Annie wants to stay for a few days. And Johnny is having a great time.’
‘I was just talking to him. He was very inquisitive. Asked me if I owned a blazer with gold buttons.’
I laughed. Johnny never failed to amuse me.
‘He’s got a problem with men who wear blazers with gold buttons. Milhouse owned a few of them.’
‘Like a sea captain?’ Henry looked amused and bewildered.
‘Exactly.’
‘Oh God. That’s not good. That’s not good at all. Did he have a huge white beard?’
We were both laughing now. ‘It was only a matter of time. Look, if I go now, I’ll be back for the party.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, but…’
‘But what?’
‘I’ll…’ He stopped.
‘You’ll what?’
‘Nothing.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll see you later. That’s what I was going to say. I’ll see you later.’