Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
They were both quiet during the drive. Ciara was still trying to get used to the idea that Martha’s sister, Madge, had been her biological grandmother.
She had been shaken by the news that her father had been adopted and still hurt that she had never been told.
It had changed her perception of herself and who she was.
She had always thought that the couple in the old photo album from her father’s childhood had been her grandparents who had died before she was born.
But now it appeared they had been her father’s adopted parents and her real genealogy was completely different to what she had believed.
Her biological grandmother had been abandoned by the father of her child.
Whoever he was had left her to cope on her own.
What a terrible, dishonourable thing to do.
It disgusted her to think she was related to such a man – whoever he had been.
Maureen seemed to feel how upset Ciara was.
Later that afternoon, when they arrived in the charming little village of Enniskerry and they had parked the van near the square, she put her hand on Ciara’s arm.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I should have told you years ago. But it wasn’t my secret to tell. ’
Ciara turned and met her mother’s gaze. ‘I suppose it wasn’t. But Dad should have told me instead of avoiding the issue of his parents.’
‘Your father, God rest him, kept his feelings to himself, you see,’ Maureen said.
‘If he was upset about something, he’d go for a walk or stay in his little study with the door closed.
There was no way I could reach him or get him to talk to me.
I left him alone and waited for him to get over whatever was troubling him. ’
‘That must have been so hard for you,’ Ciara replied, realising that her mother had to live with a man who had huge issues with his past. ‘I’m not angry with you, Ma; I’m angrier with him, which is a bit useless, I suppose.
’ She drew breath and stared out the window.
‘It makes me feel strange, though. I don’t know who I am any more.
Not a Doyle, but a Fitzgerald from Wicklow. How odd is that?’
‘Of course you’re a Doyle,’ Maureen argued.
‘Your father’s adoptive parents loved him and were so proud of him.
He grew up with a lot of love and support, never forget that.
It takes a lot more to being a mother than to give birth, you know.
And Ada Doyle was certainly a real, good, caring, loving mother.
She would have been a wonderful granny too, had she lived. Never forget that.’
Ciara turned to look at her mother. ‘Thank you, Ma. Of course you’re right. And I’d love to look through that old album again, just to remember Dad’s real, true parents.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Maureen said, touching Ciara’s cheek. ‘And now, let’s have a slap-up lunch in that lovely looking restaurant overlooking the beautiful countryside.’
Ciara smiled, her spirits lifting. ‘Brilliant idea, Ma. I’m suddenly very hungry after all that emotion.’
They got out of the van and slowly walked down the street, lined with lovely Victorian houses with their well-tended gardens where roses were just about to come out in full bloom and the branches with apple blossom moved in the light breeze, their delicate scent filling the air.
They reached the restaurant and managed to get a table in the garden where there were wonderful views of the rolling hills and the top of the mountain called the Sugarloaf rising in the distance.
‘Oh, it’s like being in a different country,’ Maureen said with a happy sigh as they studied the menu a waitress had just handed them.
‘It really is,’ Ciara agreed. ‘This village is so enchanting.’
‘Disney made a movie here a few years ago,’ Maureen said. ‘I think it was called Disenchanted. It had that dishy actor in it. What’s-his-name from Grey’s Anatomy.’
‘Patrick Dempsey,’ Ciara filled in. ‘It was shot here and in Powerscourt up the road. I read that they turned the whole village into a film set.’
‘Is that so?’ Maureen asked the waitress who had just appeared, pen and pad in her hand, ready to take their order.
The waitress, a redhead with a cute face, rolled her eyes.
‘Oh yeah. It was a madhouse during those months they were here. You couldn’t move for film people.
They turned Enniskerry into some fairy tale place called Monroeville.
Exciting for a bit but then it became a bit of a drag. Who wants to live in Disneyland?’
‘I can imagine,’ Ciara said.
‘I hope it won’t happen again for a long time,’ the waitress declared with feeling. ‘So what can I get you?’
‘I’ll have the burger and chips and a glass of zero Guinness, please.’
‘Oh, but maybe you should pick something a little less… substantial?’ Maureen suggested.
‘She means less fattening,’ Ciara said to the waitress. ‘My mum thinks I should try to lose weight.’
‘Ah sure, aren’t you grand the way you are?’ the waitress said with a conspiratorial smile. ‘And why not treat yourself if you feel like it?’
‘Exactly,’ Ciara said with a satisfied glance at her mother.
Maureen laughed and shook her head. ‘I see that I’m losing the battle. And you know what? I’ll have the same. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.’
‘That’s my motto too,’ the waitress said and jotted down their order. ‘I’ll go and get your drinks and place the order.’
She was back only minutes later with two glasses of zero Guinness and a carafe of water. ‘There you go. The burgers and chips won’t take long.’
‘Great,’ Ciara said. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Are you staying around here?’ the waitress asked.
‘We’re in Cherrywood,’ Maureen said. ‘It’s about ten kilometres from here up that steep road.’
‘I know where it is,’ the girl said. ‘My granny came from there. She’s buried beside the Catholic church. I go to put flowers on her grave sometimes.’
‘How lovely,’ Maureen said. ‘By the way, I’m Maureen and Ciara here is my daughter.’
‘I’m Róisín,’ the girl said. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Hi, Róisín,’ Ciara said. ‘Great to meet someone with connections to Cherrywood.’
‘Oh, I’m not that connected to the place,’ Róisín said. ‘My granny died years ago when I was eight. But she was so lovely. I like the village, even though it’s a bit rundown. It’s quiet and peaceful and the graveyard is very beautiful. Have you been there?’
‘No, but we will go and see it now that you’ve mentioned it,’ Maureen said, looking thoughtful.
Róisín nodded and then left to attend to a couple who had just arrived, while Maureen looked at Ciara.
‘The graveyard,’ she said. ‘Why didn’t we think of going there?’
‘Maybe because we find graveyards sad?’ Ciara suggested.
‘Of course we do, but we have to go and find Martha’s grave,’ Maureen said. ‘Then we’ll at least have her date of birth. Other family members must be buried there too.’
Ciara nodded. ‘Yes, that’s true. So we’ll go to the graveyard when we get back after lunch,’ she said as she spotted Róisín weaving her way towards them with their food. ‘Can’t wait to taste that burger.’
They thoroughly enjoyed the excellent burgers and chips, washed down with frothy Guinness.
Then they had coffee and shared a slice of chocolate cake while making plans for the rest of the afternoon.
They decided to visit Liz in the craft shop and then they’d go down to Wicklow town to look at cooking utensils and other items to furnish the flat over the bookshop.
While they walked down the street together to find Liz’s shop, Ciara mulled over the events of the day.
She felt as if she was on a merry-go-round and she wished it would stop and she could go back to her normal life, before all this happened.
But Maureen had the bit between her teeth and there would be no stopping her until everything was revealed.
Would they find another piece of this weird jigsaw in the graveyard?
Ciara had been thinking about her own plans after reading that letter. And now she knew exactly what she was going to do. It felt right, as if an invisible hand was pushing her forward into a new life, a whole new adventure.