Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Ciara was ready just before seven, dressed in the outfit her mother had suggested: Liz’s T-shirt, black linen trousers and the denim jacket.
She had washed her hair and blow-dried it until it gleamed and then applied mascara and lipstick but nothing else.
She didn’t want to look as if she had tried too hard. That might give Oisín ideas.
Ciara and Maureen had worked hard in the shop all day, sorting the books on the shelves, which they had decided to paint a sage green.
The floor had been cleaned and polished until the oak planks gleamed and they had also washed the windows and brushed the dust and cobwebs off the entrance door.
And now it all looked quite inviting. They needed chairs for the reading corner where Ciara had decided to host the book club she hoped would be created some day in the future.
All this work had been very satisfying and Ciara saw for the first time how cute and cosy the shop would be once it was finished.
It made her want to stay. If only, she thought, but then pushed the idea away, knowing it would be crazy.
Just after lunch, Ciara had driven down to Enniskerry for a coffee and to call her boss to ask her for a leave of absence.
It was Saturday and the office would be closed, but Ciara had Jean’s mobile number and she called that, hoping Jean wouldn’t be annoyed at being called at the weekend.
She had never been particularly friendly, keeping a cool tone with the staff at all times.
But she had replied and accepted Ciara’s apology about calling her on a Saturday with fairly good humour.
But when Ciara had explained what she was calling about, Jean’s tone changed.
‘You want more leave on top of the two weeks you’re already taking?’ Jean O’Reilly asked in a scathing tone.
‘Well, yes,’ Ciara replied, beginning to regret her phone call. ‘I’m trying to sort out an inheritance I received recently, you see. From someone I’m related to,’ she ended, knowing how lame it sounded. ‘So I need a little more time to get it all in order.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t give you more time off at the moment,’ Jean O’Reilly said. ‘I need all my staff right now as it’s just after the new budget. You have about three weeks left of your annual holiday and you can take them in August. I expect to see you in the office next week.’
‘Well, I’m afraid you won’t,’ Ciara said, feeling a surge of anger.
‘Why not?’ Jean asked.
‘Because I quit,’ Ciara said, her voice quivering with nerves. ‘I don’t feel I’m the right fit for the department anyway.’
‘I see,’ Jean said, sounding sour. ‘Well, I can’t pretend that you’ll be missed. I never felt that you had what it takes to be promoted to a higher grade, I’m sorry to say.’
Then she told Ciara that all she had to do was to send a formal letter to her and then she could get two weeks’ salary instead of having to work to the end of the coming month.
She would get a letter of recommendation if she needed it for any future employment.
Then Jean had said goodbye and hung up. Ciara breathed a sigh of relief.
It hadn’t been a pleasant conversation, but she was at least free and didn’t ever have to go back to work at that dreary office, which gave her a dart of pure joy before she started to panic about what her mother would say.
What have I done? she thought. I’ve quit my job and there’s no going back. Ma will kill me.
She had acted on impulse, which she now started to regret, the feeling of relief replaced by fear.
She had lost her security net and felt she was now in freefall.
The bookshop simply had to succeed or she would have to leave and go back home and live with her mother.
She would look like a complete loser and Ma would be so ashamed.
Then Ciara decided to tell her mother what she had done later.
No need to give her the bad news at once.
And now she stood outside the shop waiting for Oisín to pick her up.
She hadn’t seen any car parked near the tower house, but she assumed he had one, otherwise how would they get to Wicklow town?
Then she heard the noise of an engine coming from the lane that led to the tower.
She expected to see him round the corner in a car, but when he arrived she was startled to see him, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, sitting astride a gleaming Harley-Davidson motorcycle.
The outfit and the bike made him look devastatingly handsome and she knew why her mother had been so taken with him.
‘Hi there,’ he said as he pulled up beside her, his voice muffled by the visor of his helmet. ‘Great to see you’re all ready to go.’ He handed her a helmet. ‘Here. Put this on and we’ll be off.’
‘Oh, God,’ Ciara whispered, backing away from the machine. ‘I didn’t expect this. You didn’t tell me we were going on a motorbike.’
Oisín looked surprised. ‘I thought you’d love it. Don’t worry, I’m a very responsible driver. Or are you too chicken to come with me?’
Ciara glanced up at the windows, hoping her mother wasn’t watching.
Then she met Oisín’s gaze and realised this was a challenge, or some kind of test. She took a deep breath and put on the helmet.
‘I’m no chicken,’ she said and climbed up behind him, her legs shaking with fear.
‘It’s just that I haven’t ever been on anything like this. ’
‘Well, then isn’t it time you did?’ Oisín said. ‘Sit tight and hold on to my waist and we’ll be off.’
And they were. Oisín revved the bike up and soon they were sweeping down the road that would take them through Enniskerry and then down to the coast and Wicklow town.
Ciara wrapped her arms around Oisín’s waist and pressed her cheek against his back, her eyes closed.
She was rigid with nerves at first as the noise of the engine roared in her ears, and she thought she was going to be sick when they went around some sharp bends.
But after a while she got used to the motion of the big machine and, as she felt the wind against her face, began to enjoy it.
Oisín’s trim waist and his muscular back felt reassuring as she breathed in his scent of soap mixed with a hint of oil paints.
This was truly exhilarating and as she watched the countryside rush past, she felt as if she was flying and didn’t want the trip to end.
But then, as they came into the small town, Oisín slowed down and they carefully made their way through the narrow lanes lined with old cottages adorned with window boxes full of flowers.
Then they reached the pretty harbour and the walkway along the coast, the evening sun making the tiny waves of the blue sea glitter.
Seagulls screeched above them and the fresh breeze smelled of salt and seaweed.
They pulled up in front of a house with a white clapboard facade that had a sign over the blue door that said, SEAPOINT HOUSE, FISH RESTAURANT.
‘This looks lovely,’ Ciara said as she got off the bike, her legs a little wobbly.
Oisín smiled and took off his helmet. ‘Yeah, it’s a grand place. One of my favourites. We can sit outside on the deck as it’s a warm evening. There’s a view of Wicklow Head lighthouse from there.’
‘Sounds fabulous,’ Ciara said as she took off her helmet and shook out her hair. ‘Where do we put these?’
‘We’ll bring them with us and stick them under the table,’ Oisín replied. ‘Otherwise they might get nicked.’
‘Okay,’ Ciara said, hoping she didn’t look too dishevelled. It had been hot under the helmet and she knew it might have flattened her carefully styled hair. She fluffed it up and smiled at Oisín. ‘Hat hair,’ she said. ‘Or maybe I should call it helmet hair?’
‘You look great,’ Oisín said as if reading her mind. ‘Did you enjoy the ride?’
‘Loved it,’ Ciara said. ‘Even if I was terrified at first.’
‘You’re a brave girl,’ Oisín said. He walked to the door and held it open. ‘Let’s go in and get some food. I’m starving.’
‘Me too,’ Ciara said, breathing in the wonderful smell of fried fish wafting through the open door.
‘They do a fabulous fish and chips here,’ Oisín said as they walked inside. ‘And if they have crab claws, I’d recommend that as a starter.’
‘Delicious,’ Ciara said as a waitress came towards them. Then she saw to her surprise that it was Róisín, the girl who had served coffee in Enniskerry. ‘Hi, Róisín,’ she said. ‘Are you working here now?’
‘Hi… Ciara, isn’t it?’ Róisín said. ‘I work here in the evenings and at the coffee shop during the day.’
‘Gosh,’ Ciara said. ‘That’s a long day.’
‘Not really,’ Róisín replied. ‘I actually enjoy it.’ She turned to Oisín, smiling. ‘Hi, Oisín. How are you?’
‘All the better for seeing you,’ Oisín replied with a grin.
‘Oh, go away out of that.’ Róisín let out a laugh. ‘That’s what you say to all the girls.’ Then she looked from Oisín to Ciara. ‘I didn’t know you two were dating.’
‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly,’ Oisín said. ‘We’re just getting to know each other, so no need to jump to conclusions.’
‘Just friends then, eh?’ Róisín said with a cheeky grin. ‘Anyway, I’ll take you to your table out on the deck. We have blankets if you’ll find it chilly.’
‘I’m sure we won’t,’ Oisín replied. ‘It’s unusually warm for late April.’
‘It is, for sure. Okay, folks, just follow me,’ Róisín said and started to walk through the crowded restaurant.
Then she went through the open door to the deck that was dotted with small tables.
She showed them to a table at the railing, which was decorated with a long window box full of white and pink geraniums. The view across the Irish Sea was lovely, with Wicklow Head lighthouse rising up in the distance.
‘What a beautiful view,’ Ciara said as she sat down on the chair Oisín pulled out for her.
‘I love it,’ he said, sitting down opposite. ‘Especially on an evening like this when the weather is so good.’