Chapter 43
Ros
It all felt so hollow now. Ros came down to the little cottage in the garden after she had settled Constance in for the night. Heather offered her a glass of wine before she left, but the truth was, Ros couldn’t face anything at this stage.
She’d been there when her mother passed away, holding her hand, praying for something like a miracle.
Her mum had slipped away as if someone had opened a side door one day and let her vitality leak through it bit by bit so, in a matter of weeks, she was little more than fractured fragments of the woman she had once been.
That’s what Constance had reminded her of tonight.
Ros had been here at Ocean’s End first thing in the morning. Constance was her usual self, fussing around her, insisting that she have something to eat before going to check on a curlew nest on the other side of the island.
How could the whole world turn over within the space of an hour or two?
That’s what it felt like, as if someone had altered the dial on everything, draining life of its most essential essence.
The silence was almost claustrophobic. Ros wasn’t a religious person, but she found herself praying that Constance would rally quickly.
She looked around the cottage now. It was her first night to stay here. She should be over the moon.
The cottage was still lovely, lovelier than Ros could have imagined or dreamed of ever living in.
It was tiny of course, possibly that was half its charm.
The entire place could fit into Constance’s kitchen and sitting room.
They’d found an antique rose paint and covered the walls, rolled cream paint across the low ceiling, giving the whole place a lovely soft and feminine feel.
Heather had helped her drag the mattresses into the garden on days that were so warm and windy it felt as if the heavens had decided to play along with them.
The place felt and smelled as if it had been freshened by the sea air.
Of course, there were no mod cons. She would be handwashing her clothes and heating the place with firewood in the stove in the winter, but when Heather set a huge jug of wildflowers on the tiny windowsill and Ros straightened the throw she’d picked up months earlier across the fireside chair, it felt as if she had truly come home.
‘It’s lovely,’ Constance had said when she’d come down to survey the work a few days earlier.
She’d brought with her gorgeous antique linen sheets that had been freshly laundered and dried in the afternoon sun.
They smelled of cut grass and washing powder and Ros loved everything about them.
‘I’m just happy they’re going to be some use.
’ Constance smiled. She had already sent down a multicoloured circular rug for the centre of the kitchen and told her to take anything she needed in the way of crockery or glasses or pots and pans from the old pantry.
Ros loved the sheets most. She imagined folding herself between them and feeling blissfully content in her snug little corner of the island.
Ros yawned. The day had drained her, she knew she had to get to bed.
She was due to meet Shane McPherson the following day and it was anyone’s guess what time he’d arrive.
She had already decided he would have to wait until she checked on Constance and organised anything she and Heather might need for the day.
Shane had brought across his boat. Of course he had brought across his boat, so by the time she got to the cottage he was already waiting for her.
He’d managed to get Jay Larkin to bring up his belongings in the back of the post van and was sitting on the doorstep waiting for her when she arrived at the ranger’s cottage.
‘Good evening,’ he said a little cynically.
‘If you’re hinting at the hour of the day, I’ve already done my rounds. There’s still a full day ahead of us, if you want to start watching the clock,’ she said without looking at him.
‘I’m sure you have, but don’t you carry some sort of mobile phone on you?’ They had given Ros one to go with the cottage, but no-one ever called her so she rarely used it, preferring instead to use her own.
‘Come on, I’ve cleared out my stuff, you can get yourself settled in.’ She pushed in the front door, leading into the tiny porch and from there the main room of the cottage.
‘So, you’re not staying on?’ he asked.
‘No. No, I’m not. It’s all yours,’ she said and even though she loved the cottage Constance had given her, and she knew it was completely irrational, she couldn’t help feeling a little peeved that he had somehow managed to take this place which had been so happy for her.
‘So all the old crap that was here?’ He was looking around the cottage.
‘Donated. The Church of Ireland ladies send on their gratitude, it’ll go some way towards repairs to the church roof in St Michaels.’
‘Hmm, so everyone wins, it saves me having to drag it across to the mainland on my boat.’ And it was hard to know if he was actually happy or not about it.
‘I’ve stripped the bed; you’ll have to make it up for yourself.’ She wasn’t his servant, just so he knew.
‘Listen, I’m sorry that…’ He stood before her, obviously uncomfortable in this space that had been hers last time he was here.
‘Sorry that?’
‘You know, my getting this job, well, it means you’re out of the cottage and that last night it was awkward… I really don’t mind you staying on until you’re sorted with something else, yeah?’
‘I’m already sorted, thanks,’ she said. She didn’t owe him any explanations.
‘So you’re moving over to the mainland to take up the admin post?’
‘Probably, yeah, in a few weeks.’ She filled the kettle, flicked the switch; it was automatic: in spite of the emptiness, the place still felt like hers.
‘And you’ve got a place there?’ He obviously knew how hard it was to find somewhere to live in Ballycove in high season.
‘I will have, when the time comes.’ She looked at him.
Was he actually concerned on some level that she had something sorted and she wasn’t going to be living in a doorway somewhere?
‘There’s a flat coming free above the bakery, apparently.
It’s let out to tourists at the moment, but the old guy I spoke to said I could have it, starting the week before I’m due to move across. ’
‘But that’s in a month, surely…’
‘You don’t have to worry. This cottage, as much and all as I loved it, it’s yours now. I’ve got somewhere else to stay,’ she said and she dropped instant coffee into two mugs and set about stirring in boiling water with a concentration that didn’t brook any more questions.
She went through the various things he needed to know about the cottage. The hot water system was still a bit of a mystery to her, even after a year here, but she did her best.
‘So, if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be getting back,’ she said, leaving him to drag in his belongings from the doorstep.
‘Generally, I start on my rounds at six in the morning, if that suits? Better to do as much as you can in summer, because winter days are so short, well, it’s making hay while the sun shines.
’ She turned to let herself out the door.
‘Ros?’ he called after her as she made her way down the path.
‘Yep?’ she said, half turning. She was itching to get back to Ocean’s End to check in on Constance.
‘You wouldn’t fancy going to the pub later, just for a pint you know, to…’ He broke off, perhaps realising that the last thing she wanted to do was celebrate his arrival on the island.
‘Ah, sorry, no, I can’t tonight, I have plans, so…
sorry,’ she said and she felt a tiny sliver of guilt shave across her because she remembered her own first week here when the students had returned to the city and Max Toolis had left her to stay in the cottage alone.
Even for Ros, who considered herself an independent sort, it had been a bit daunting to have only the sound of the wind in the chimney for company.
‘Of course, sure, no problem,’ he said, bending to pick up his bags.
‘Maybe later in the week, lunch? In the hotel? My treat to welcome you to the island?’ she said.
‘Okay,’ he said and he turned back into the cottage, allowing the door to bang closed behind him.
Ros found herself instantly regretting the invitation when she saw his reaction.
Under the clear blue skies of the summer’s day, she knew that the loss of the job she had loved and the cottage she had adored was hardly the end of the world, not when she thought of Constance that morning.
She seemed to have aged overnight and she was so weak, hardly able to sip the tea that Ros had held to her lips.
She would have to let go of this simmering resentment towards Shane; after all, she knew, he had not set out to upset her lovely life, and if it hadn’t been Shane who had come along and taken the post, there was no guarantee it would have been offered to her anyway.
Ros’s step was heavy as she approached Ocean’s End. She couldn’t shake the feeling that soon everything would change again, she could feel it in her bones; Constance was slipping away from them far more quickly than any of them expected.
When she walked into the house, Heather was sitting at the table, poring over old diaries that belonged to Maggie Macken. Her eyes looked as tired as Ros felt, she too had hardly slept all night worrying about Constance.
‘Any change?’
‘No, she’s been sleeping most of the afternoon.’
‘Can I check on her?’ Ros didn’t want to disturb Constance, but still, she wanted to see her, to make sure she was okay.
‘I’m not in charge, Ros,’ Heather smiled at her, ‘but I will make us both some coffee, if you fancy it?’
‘I’d love some.’ Actually, she’d take anything that would put a bit of life into her at this stage. With that, her phone pinged. Mai Boland. She showed the text to Heather.
‘Ring her, you have to ring her. If they’ve got the funding, it’s going to really give Constance a great boost,’ Heather said and Ros wondered if she wasn’t more excited about the prospect of it than Ros was.
It was a funny state of affairs, when this impending sense of loss managed to steal from you any joy for yourself but still allowed you to be happy for the people you cared about; she knew she’d have felt exactly the same for Heather.
‘I’ve just got the word in,’ Mai trilled with excitement on the other end of the line. ‘We have funding for five years. Congratulations, you’re officially going to be the Pin Hill Island Goat herder!’
‘That’s great news,’ Ros managed, but she knew her voice was lifeless. Still, she managed to carry on a conversation and promised she’d call into the development company in the next day or two to get the ball rolling.
‘“I”s to be dotted and “T”s to be crossed,’ Mai said and it was obvious she was really excited about the whole project. ‘It’ll be so good for the island, everyone will be really pleased.’
‘That’s good news,’ Ros managed.
‘And, Ros,’ Mai said softly. ‘People are going to be especially pleased that you’re not leaving after all.’
‘I guess I have to be pretty happy about that too.’ And she caught Heather’s eye. She looked as if she might burst with happiness for her.
It was a nice feeling to knock on Constance’s bedroom door and know that she had good news to tell her at last.
‘Ah, Ros, you’re here.’ Constance tried to sit up in the bed a little.
‘Don’t move on my account,’ Ros said, pulling in a chair. ‘Heather’s making coffee, do you fancy some?’
‘No, no, I don’t think I could face anything at the moment.’ Constance smiled.
‘How do you feel? Any better?’
‘Oh yes, miles better, I think I might go dancing later.’ At least her sense of humour was still intact, but she sounded feeble. Ros thought her heart would break at any moment.
‘We might all go dancing tonight…’ She smiled at Constance. ‘It looks like I’m staying on the island…’
‘Oh, you got the job? With the goats? Oh, Ros…’ And Constance’s face lit up with a strange joyfulness that made Ros think, this is how she must have looked as a girl . She was truly beautiful and then, a huge tear ran down the old lady’s cheek. ‘Oh, don’t mind me, I’m so happy for you…’
‘Constance,’ she reached out, stroked her arm, ‘you mean so much to us, to me and Heather.’ Ros felt a huge ball of emotion at the back of her throat.
‘You know, I don’t remember my grandparents, but since I’ve been here, I’ve come to think of you as…
’ Her voice was breaking, she couldn’t help it.
‘Well, you know, you mean a lot to me and I needed you to know that before…’
‘Are you leaving after all?’ Constance was making fun of her.
But then, she turned her face towards the window for a moment and closed her eyes gently.
‘Dear, dear, Ros. You know, if I’d had a daughter or a granddaughter, I’d have wanted her to be like you.
I can’t imagine any granny on the island having their hearts as full of love for a child as I have felt for you these last few months. ’
‘Oh, Constance.’ And that was it, the floodgates were about to open, but Ros took a deep breath, she would not cry, she would not upset them both now.
‘So, since neither of us are going anywhere just yet,’ Constance sighed, took a long ragged breath, ‘I have things I need to organise, I can’t leave without doing those first.’
‘What sort of things?’
‘I…’ she looked at Ros, ‘don’t laugh, but I need to get my affairs in order and I need to… I need to wipe clean a slate that’s been dirty for far too many years.’
‘Okay, well, can I help you do those things…’
‘Oh, if only,’ she sighed now.
‘By your affairs, do you mean your will?’
‘I suppose.’
‘I could ask Surfer Dude, you know…’
‘What – now which of us is going barmy?’
‘You’re not going barmy and neither am I. You know, Surfer Dude – Jake – he’s a solicitor with some big practice in the city, he takes a few months off every summer to surf and run the coffee shack on the beach.’
‘I never knew that.’
‘Ah, there you go, it takes a blow-in to know these things.’ Ros smiled at Constance.
‘Okay, will you ask him to call up here to me, today, sometime, if he can?’
‘Of course. You know, Constance, I’d do anything for you.’ She wiped a tear from her eye and leaned across and kissed her on her head.