Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
The Brian Boru Bookshop was opened at the end of June.
The event was combined with the launch of Paul Murray’s memoir, which brought a huge crowd, including teams from the national newspapers.
There was even a camera team from RTé who filmed the event for the evening news.
Paul, dressed in a blue blazer and red trousers, was the star of the show and he used it to its full potential, making a speech that lasted over half an hour, to Maureen’s annoyance.
But she didn’t show what she really thought, as the launch helped to boost the image of the little shop and put the village on the map.
Paul had gallantly paid for the champagne that was being served, and Maureen and Ciara had made an array of finger food that disappeared very quickly.
All the people they had met at the tea party at the vicarage were there, including old Nuala, who had slowly made her way across the street using a walking frame on wheels.
Olivia Wilson appeared dressed in a bright turquoise suit, looking every inch the grande dame of the village.
Elaine and Aino, her carer, arrived by car from Dublin just before the start of the launch and Maureen was especially pleased to see them.
They had a long chat before Paul Murray arrived and the two women seemed to get on just as well as the first time they met.
Oisín and Liz were there too, Oisín beaming as he studied his paintings that they had hung up on the walls between the bookcases. ‘Thank you,’ he said when Paul Murray had finished speaking, kissing Ciara lightly on the cheek. ‘This is very kind of you.’
‘Not at all,’ she protested. ‘They look lovely and give the shop that extra bit of charm.’
‘I’m glad you picked my landscapes and flowers. They’re perfect for this place. I’ll do some more if these sell.’
‘That would be great,’ Ciara said.
‘Do you want me to help out at the desk?’ Oisín asked. ‘There’s a long queue of people wanting to buy Paul’s book.’
‘Brilliant,’ Ciara said. ‘I could use a little help. Do you know how to work the card machine?’
‘Of course,’ Oisín said. ‘I’ve worked in shops before. By the way, very clever of you to get the satellite dish for the Wi-Fi. You would have had to do cash only otherwise, which is a little old-fashioned.’
‘I know. That’s all thanks to Ronan’s mum. She was the one who suggested it.’
‘I should have told you,’ Oisín said. ‘But you were so annoyed at me after our dinner in Wicklow.’
‘Not really,’ Ciara protested. ‘It was just that I was a little confused and worried at that time.’
‘About Martha, her sister and your connection to them?’ Oisín asked, glancing around to make sure they weren’t overheard. ‘And to me?’
‘Something like that,’ Ciara mumbled back. ‘But now I feel I’ll never know the real truth.’
‘I don’t know either,’ Oisín said. ‘Does it bother you?’
‘Not any more,’ Ciara said. ‘That was so long ago and they’re all dead. Let them rest in peace.’
‘Amen,’ Oisín replied. ‘But now we have to go and get all those book sales sorted.’
Ciara felt a huge sense of relief as they went to the cash machine to take payment for the books Paul Murray had just signed.
Oisín didn’t know more than she did, even though he had pretended he did.
But neither of them knew who her grandfather had been and even though she would have liked to find out, it didn’t matter in the end.
There was no closure, but that was life.
Nobody really got that closure they craved.
Ciara had never believed it existed anyway.
‘A huge success,’ Paul said as they closed the shop and tidied up. ‘What did you think of my fun little speech?’
‘Not much fun and not very little,’ Maureen muttered as she stacked a pile of Paul’s books on a shelf.
‘What did you say?’ Paul asked. ‘I didn’t quite catch that. You must learn to speak up, Maureen.’
‘She said it was brilliant,’ Ciara filled in as she put the glasses they had hired back into the boxes.
‘I knew it would be a hit,’ Paul said, beaming.
‘Why didn’t you sing?’ Ronan asked, coming back through the door after seeing Elaine and Aino off.
‘My voice isn’t what it was,’ Paul explained. ‘So I thought I’d just talk about my fabulous career instead. I knew everyone would find it fascinating.’
‘We sold over eighty copies of your memoir,’ Ciara said. ‘And a lot of other books as well. Especially crime and thrillers. A great start, I have to say.’
‘I knew my launch would bring a lot of people to your little shop,’ Paul said, looking pleased. ‘My hand is sore from signing so many books.’
‘Maybe you could sign a few more?’ Maureen suggested. ‘Then we can put “signed by the author” stickers on them.’
‘Good idea,’ Paul said, massaging his right hand. ‘But I’ll need to rest a little first.’
‘I have supper ready upstairs,’ Maureen said. ‘Just cold salmon and salads that we can eat outside at the table we put up under the big oak. Oisín, you must come too. You’re welcome to join us, Paul.’
‘Thank you, darling,’ Paul chortled, holding up a bottle of champagne. ‘And look what I found. An unopened bottle of bubbly. It’ll go well with the salmon.’
‘We’ll all be on our ear,’ Maureen protested.
‘And why not?’ Paul asked, unperturbed. ‘Isn’t it a good way to celebrate my new career as a writer?’
‘New career?’ Maureen asked, turning from the books. ‘You mean you’ll write another memoir?’
‘No, no, dear girl,’ Paul said, beaming at her. ‘I’m going to write cosy mysteries set in this village. A bit like Midsomer Murders, if you know what I mean.’
‘I think that champagne has already gone to your head,’ Maureen said. ‘Midsomer Murders, indeed. Set in this remote village. What else will you dream up?’
‘I don’t know,’ Paul said. ‘But I’ll think about it.’
Ciara laughed softly as Ronan helped her tidy away the last of the glasses. ‘Those two are so funny. Ma is having a ball bickering with Paul. I hope he won’t be offended.’
‘He’s loving it,’ Ronan said. ‘I don’t think he ever met a woman who took him down to earth like that.’
‘That’s probably very true.’ Ciara put the last glass into the box. ‘There. We’ll use our own glasses for the champagne Paul found. So let’s go upstairs to help bring everything into the garden.’
Once everything had been brought to the table, they all sat down and enjoyed the meal while the sun slowly dipped behind the cherry trees in the distance.
Ciara shivered slightly in the cool breeze and Ronan gently put his jacket around her shoulders.
‘There,’ he whispered, placing a light kiss on the top of her head. ‘Now you won’t be cold.’
‘Thank you,’ Ciara whispered back.
‘I feel romance in the air,’ Paul said, smiling at them. ‘So when’s the wedding?’
‘None of our business,’ Maureen chided. ‘Let them make their own plans. They might not want to be married at all. I’m just happy they’re together at last.’
Ronan shot a look at Ciara. ‘How about it, Ciara? Will we make our mothers happy and get married?’
‘Are you proposing?’ Ciara asked.
‘No, not right now,’ Ronan said. ‘I don’t want to get down on one knee in front of everyone. That’s so cheesy. Maybe when we’re alone.’
Ciara pushed at him. ‘You don’t have to, you fool. You know what I’ll say anyway.’
‘Is that a yes?’ Oisín asked, holding up his glass of champagne. ‘In that case, cheers to the happy couple.’
‘Cheers!’ everyone shouted so loudly Brian, who had been asleep under the oak, rushed to his feet and started to bark.
Ciara looked around at her mother, Paul Murray, old Nuala, Oisín, Liz and Ronan, her heart nearly bursting with joy.
This remote village that had felt so cold and unfriendly now seemed more like the home she had been looking for all her life.
She knew she had fulfilled Martha’s wishes and that felt so good.
‘Yes,’ she whispered in Ronan’s ear. ‘I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want.’
He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. ‘As soon as we can arrange it anyway.’
She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed happily, looking at the pink and orange clouds, feeling that both her father and Martha were smiling at them from above.
The revival of Cherrywood had started. Making it what it had been once would be impossible.
But it would live again in some new way that was more in tune with the times.