Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
‘In nineteen forty-five, I think,’ Oisín said.
‘He left like a thief in the night,’ Oisín said, echoing Ciara’s thoughts. ‘Of course that’s exactly what he was – a thief.’
‘The poor girl,’ Ciara whispered.
Oisín nodded as he picked up his last crab claw and popped it into his mouth. ‘Yes, his wife had a rough time, losing the house and being disowned by her family.’
‘I meant that girl he got pregnant,’ Ciara said.
‘Oh her too. But hey, if she slept with a married man, what did she expect?’
‘So it was her fault and all the misery she might have suffered served her right?’ Ciara asked hotly, glaring at Oisín. ‘He was married and should have known better. Why do men never have to pay for their misbehaviour?’
‘I suppose it takes two to tango,’ Oisín remarked. ‘But didn’t he get what he deserved in the end, then?’
‘Maybe,’ Ciara mumbled, still seething at Oisín’s attitude towards the girl his uncle had made pregnant – even if that girl had not been Madge.
‘I’m not proud of being related to Jarlath, I have to say,’ Oisín remarked.
‘In any case, the house they lived in was beautiful. It’s now in ruins sadly, but the grounds are lovely.
Very inspirational for painting, with the old stones overgrown with all kinds of plants and flowers.
’ Oisín studied Ciara for a moment. ‘You’re suddenly very pale.
Are you cold? We could ask for a table inside if you want. ’
Ciara drained her glass of wine, which made her feel better. ‘No, I’m fine. Just feeling tired after a busy day. Your story was a little upsetting too. I’m just imagining what it would have been like for that girl who got pregnant and then the wife who was left behind to deal with the shame of it.’
‘A bit unfair to both of them,’ Oisín agreed. ‘I wonder sometimes what happened to the child that girl had. He or she would have been my father’s cousin.’
‘What happened to the mother – the young girl, I mean?’ Ciara asked, her stomach churning with nerves.
‘I don’t know,’ Oisín replied with a shrug. ‘Very few people, except the family, knew who she was. I suspect she ended up in one of those homes for unmarried mothers and then perhaps she had to give the baby away, if it survived.’
‘How awful,’ Ciara said. ‘And of course the father of the child didn’t care what happened to her.’
‘Probably not,’ Oisín replied with a shrug. ‘Uncle Jarlath wasn’t known for his kind heart.’
Ciara wiped her mouth with her napkin. ‘What a gobshite,’ she said with feeling.
‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Oisín said. ‘But nothing to do with us, right? After all, it happened so long ago.’
‘Of course,’ Ciara said, still upset by the way Oisín had somehow blamed the girl and seemed to have implied she was some kind of a tart.
But she decided to let it go and see what Oisín knew about Martha, Madge, the village and the bookshop.
Had he meant to mention what his uncle did to test her?
Or was it just a coincidence? She suddenly felt he wasn’t to be trusted, which was disappointing, but it told her to be on her guard.
‘What happened in the past should stay in the past,’ she said in order to get back on an even keel.
‘I suppose,’ Oisín said. ‘Except some things seem to reverberate through time. The sins of the fathers and all that.’
He had said that before, and Ciara was about to ask what he meant, but they were interrupted by Róisín arriving at the table with their main course.
‘Sorry about the delay, lads, but we’re very busy tonight.
The fine weather seems to have lured everyone out.
’ She deftly cleared their plates away before she served them the fish and chips that smelled so good Ciara forgot her upset and started to dig in at once.
A waiter arrived with their Guinness, and they ate and drank in silence for a while.
‘This is good,’ Oisín said and dipped a chip into his bowl of tartare sauce. ‘Makes you feel better about everything, doesn’t it?’
Ciara glanced at Oisín while she put a piece of the fish into her mouth.
‘Mm, yes,’ she mumbled, wondering how she could raise the subject of Martha, just to see if he knew more than he had told her.
‘It’s delicious,’ she said even though she found it hard to get the food down.
The fish was truly excellent, and she would normally have savoured the flavours and the texture, but all the thoughts whirling around in her mind took the pleasure away.
‘So you’re going to reopen the bookshop?’ Oisín said after a moment of awkward silence. ‘I think that’s very brave of you. But I suppose you want to continue the tradition that Martha’s mother started over a hundred years ago. That makes me very happy.’
‘Why, particularly?’ Ciara asked. ‘I mean, Martha, as you told us, was not very fond of the O’Tooles.’
‘Oh, she wasn’t really fond of anyone,’ Oisín said. ‘A bit stern and cold with most people, if I remember. But then I was just a young lad trying my best to get noticed as an artist. There was no social media then, so I had to rely on the goodwill of people in the area who were offering to help.’
‘My mother bought one of your watercolours that were displayed in the craft shop where Liz works,’ Ciara said. ‘The one of your great-uncle’s ruined house. And then we went to see it. Lovely grounds. That house must have been quite fabulous before it was abandoned.’
‘I’m sure it was,’ Oisín agreed, taking a sip of his Guinness. ‘But there are sad vibes of a couple who didn’t even like each other. God knows why they got married in the first place.’
‘Maybe it was a marriage of convenience?’ Ciara suggested.
‘Could be.’ Oisín pushed his empty plate away. ‘She was from a wealthy family and he was fond of gambling. I’m sure he had debts that she could help pay. They had no children, so that child he fathered was his only offspring.’
‘Oh,’ was all Ciara managed. She noticed that the sky had darkened and that the sun had disappeared behind the mountains in the west. A sudden cold breeze from the sea made her shiver.
‘It’s getting late,’ she said. ‘Maybe we should head back?’ She had meant to get online with her phone and see if she could find a gardener to do the plot at the back of the shop, but then Oisín had begun to talk about his great-uncle and she had forgotten about her to-do list.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said and waved at Róisín. ‘The bill, please, darlin’,’ he shouted.
They got up and prepared to leave as Róisín arrived with the card machine. ‘Hope you enjoyed your meal,’ she said as Oisín paid.
‘We did,’ Ciara said. ‘Best fish and chips I’ve tasted for a long time. And the crab claws were divine.’
‘I second that,’ Oisín said, digging around in the pocket of his leather jacket. Then he handed Róisín a twenty-euro note. ‘For looking after us so well,’ he said.
‘Gee, you’re very generous tonight,’ Róisín said as she pocketed the money. ‘Must be because you enjoyed Ciara’s company.’
Oisín shot Ciara a wide grin. ‘Oh yes, we had a very interesting conversation, didn’t we, Ciara?’
‘Yes, we did. It revealed a lot.’ Ciara picked up her helmet that she had put under the table. She shrugged on her jacket and started to move across the deck. ‘Nice to see you again, Róisín.’
‘Lovely to see you, too,’ Róisín replied. ‘Hope you had a nice evening.’
‘I did,’ Ciara said. ‘The fish and chips were delicious. Goodnight, Róisín.’
‘Nighty-night,’ Róisín chanted and turned to clear the dishes from the table while Ciara followed Oisín through the restaurant that was still packed with guests and then out the door to where he had parked the motorbike.
‘Fabulous evening,’ Oisín remarked as he looked up at the ink-blue sky dotted with stars.
‘Yes,’ Ciara agreed, gazing at the dark sea that was momentarily illuminated by the beam of light from the lighthouse sweeping across the black water.
She breathed in the cool, clean air and then braced herself for the trip home.
Being so close to Oisín on the bike seemed a completely different sensation after what he had revealed about his great-uncle – and his attitude to it.
She was no longer the slightest bit attracted to him, and she didn’t know how she could cope with the close physical contact with him for over an hour.
But it was the only way to get home, so Ciara climbed up behind Oisín and put her arms around his waist as he kickstarted the bike.
‘We’ll take it nice and slow,’ he said over his shoulder, as if he mistook her stiff arms for fear. But as they made their way through the town, Ciara only wanted the trip to end. ‘You can go fast if you want,’ she shouted in his ear over the noise of the engine. ‘I’m not scared.’
‘Okay,’ he shouted back and then revved up the bike and took off down the main road.
Ciara hung on, regretting her words. But we’ll get there faster this way, she thought, and this nightmare will be over.
She closed her eyes as she clung to Oisín, feeling that something had shifted.
It was as if she had been walking on loose sand and suddenly fallen into a hole.
She was getting closer to the truth, but did she really want to go any further?
It suddenly struck her that she would be meeting Ronan’s girlfriend tomorrow. How on earth was she going to hide her feelings for Ronan after this disastrous date?