‘Ah, ’tis a grand day to be seeing you, Mrs O’Sullivan,’ he said, raising his hat and taking her hand. ‘And don’t you be looking on top of the world.’
‘And you look wonderful, Paddy,’ Alice said. ‘You haven’t aged one bit.’
Which of course was a lie, but it made Paddy grin. Lillie reached into the car for her handbag and showed him the photo of Ronan and the rest of the family.
‘My oh my. Haven’t they all grown? And doesn’t your mother look in fine fettle? And your father? I believe he’s quite the Australian farmer now.’
‘Yes, he is, Paddy. And so’s my mother. It was a bit hard at first to make ends meet, and we had a dreadful bushfire and lost one of our lovely mares.’
‘Ah, what a shame that be. And Marcus,’ he said, handing the photo back to Lillie, ‘he looks quite the young man. And you be telling young Freddie I still have that tortoise of his. It be eating me out of house and home.’
Lillie laughed. ‘He’ll be so pleased to know you’ve still got Mandrake.’
‘Now,’ Paddy said, looking towards the house. ‘Lord Charles, young Hugh and his mother be expecting you. And Maisie be getting all things spick and span for you as well. She be in the kitchen fiddling with the Aga and fussing about. You drive your grandma to the front entrance. Charles and young Hugh will be out to help with the wheelchair. I be catching you both later. There be a horse down in the front meadow that’s gone and got itself all caught up in the brambles. I be on my way to untangle the unfortunate fella.’
‘How awful. I hope he’s okay.’
‘Ah, he will as soon as I take these clippers to the brambles.’
Lillie drove on and as she pulled up on the gravel driveway in front of the pillared porch, the front door opened and Hugh came rushing out. He had grown, of course, but Lillie would have recognised him anywhere. She jumped out to greet him and they embraced, then Hugh stood back and looked her up and down. ‘Gees, Lillie … you’re so grown up.’
‘Well, so I should be,’ she laughed. ‘I’m a good two years older than you. Anyway, it’s wonderful to see you. Come say hello to Grandma.’
He greeted Alice warmly, then turned back to Lillie.
‘Now tell me,’ she said, ‘how are you looking after my Merlin?’
‘He’s grand,’ Hugh said. ‘I’ve outgrown him, but I kept him as I knew you’d kill me if I didn’t.’
‘You’re quite right there. I would have.’
Now a tall, angular sort of fellow with closely cropped, mousy hair joined them. If Lillie had ever met Charles Fitzpatrick, she certainly couldn’t remember him. Although he had a nice face, he wasn’t madly handsome. Nevertheless, as she’d thought when she looked at the photo Clara had shown her, he had a certain air. The well-cut tweed jacket, worn over an immaculate ironed-by-Maisie cream shirt with a stiff collar, toned well with his green club tie, and Lillie thought he probably would indeed make a good lord. Even so, he didn’t look Clara’s type. And he was certainly nowhere near as good-looking as Ronan. He came forward and introduced himself to Lillie and Grandma, then helped Lillie get the wheelchair out of the boot.
Another man emerged from the front door. He was slightly smaller than Charles and had a smiling open face boasting a sprinkling of freckles beneath a mass of gingery brown hair. He wore an Aran pullover over an open-necked shirt and beige corduroy trousers. As he walked towards them, a huge lopsided grin spread over his face. Lillie immediately thought he looked good fun. Then she did a double-take. There was no mistaking those sea-green eyes and those huge cow lashes.
‘Sorry,’ Charles said, seeing Lillie’s dumbfounded expression. ‘How remiss of me. Seamus Flaherty. He went to Trinity College with me in Dublin.’
Lillie burst out laughing. ‘Well I never. Imagine seeing you here. The budding Brendan Behan.’ She took a stab. ‘Do you remember me?’
Seamus smiled. ‘Indeed I do. I told Charles I remember you from when we caught the school bus together.’
Lillie couldn’t believe he was here standing in front of her after all this time. The years had been kind to him. He was a really good-looking man who she imagined must now be in his early twenties. Stupidly she found herself blushing, wondering if he’d any inkling of how she’d fancied him.
He joined them at the front passenger door to assist Grandma out of the car, and Lillie heard her give a gasp. She looked so startled Lillie didn’t know what had happened.
‘You, young man,’ Grandma said, peering closely at Seamus, ‘have an uncanny resemblance to someone I once knew. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘I’m told I look very much like my father.’
‘And he is?’
‘Kevin Byrne.’
Alice shook her head in disbelief. ‘Goodness, gracious me. How amazing.’ She looked at Lillie, who was standing next to Charles. ‘This young man is the son of the soldier who saved the chalice in the fire that burnt Rathgarven down. You might remember I told you the story.’
As far as Lillie knew Seamus’s father was a Flaherty. To hear his father was Kevin Byrne who had more or less saved Grandma, her father and Uncle Dermot in that fire was beyond belief.
‘And his dear grandmother, Moira, used to work with us at Rathgarven,’ Alice went on. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. What a small world it is!’ She turned back to Seamus. ‘And what about your father?’
‘He was killed by a German sniper during the war in France. After he died my mother married Donal Flaherty. I took his name.’
So that explains it, Lillie thought.
‘How very sad that your father died,’ Alice said. ‘He was a good man. You should be extremely proud of him, as no doubt you are.’
‘Indeed I am, Mrs O’Sullivan.’
‘Did he become an officer?’
‘Yes, he did. He was a brigadier when he died.’
‘Ah!’ Alice said. ‘I would have thought as much.’
Seamus gave her a sad smile. ‘I heard your son was killed as well. After the war, during Operation Masterdom in Vietnam.’
‘Yes, he was,’ Alice said, returning his smile. ‘But enough about that.’ She turned to Charles. ‘How are you, young man? Or should I say, young lord?’
‘I’m grand, Mrs O’Sullivan. And what a coincidence with Seamus. You’ll have to talk about his father with him some more. But come,’ he said, holding his hand out to help her into the wheelchair, ‘my mother’s waiting. I’ll tell you how I am on the way to see her.’
‘And Maisie?’ Lillie asked Hugh. ‘Where’s she?’
‘I’ll show you. She mustn’t have heard the car.’
Lillie looked to Charles. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell my grandmother you’ll see her in a minute. She’s on the other side of the house sitting under the chestnut tree. She was going to come around, except her legs are letting her down somewhat.’
Lillie went with Hugh to the back of the house and they found Maisie in the kitchen icing a cake.
‘Oh my goodness me!’ Maisie exclaimed, putting the knife on the bench and wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Look at you, young lady.’
Lillie laughed and ran to her. ‘Oh, Maisie. You haven’t changed one bit.’
The laugh lines around her eyes were a little deeper, and the folds around her mouth didn’t leap back into place quite as quickly as they once did, but aside from that Lillie didn’t think Maisie had changed much at all. She was still the same Maisie Lillie had missed so much, and when they embraced Lillie smelt the familiar scent of her Blue Grass perfume, mingled with the aroma of cake and icing.
‘Now tell me about your lovely mother. And your father,’ Maisie said, standing back. ‘And those boys. Particularly Ronan, who I’m told has joined the Army and is off fighting in that dreadful war in Vietnam.’
Lillie pulled out the photo and showed it to Maisie.
‘Well I never,’ Maisie said, studying the photo. ‘Aren’t they a grand lot. Look at Ronan in that uniform. And Marcus and young Freddie. How th
ey’ve grown. And doesn’t your mother look beautiful beside your dad. What about your lovely grandma? Is she well? I can’t wait to be seeing her.’
‘She’s not bad at all. Older and frailer of course. She’s gone around the side of the house to see Lady Fitzpatrick.’
‘Won’t they be having a lot to catch up on. You give me a hand with this tea tray and let’s go around and join them.’
As Lillie helped Maisie load the tray she almost felt as though she was a fourteen year old again, helping her in the kitchen at Rathgarven.
At the side of the house Grandma sat under the chestnut tree talking animatedly to Lady Margaret Fitzpatrick. Charles, Hugh and Seamus sat nearby. Lillie looked at Seamus. After Sheelagh’s letter, perhaps I should have guessed he might visit Charles here at times.
Maisie rushed forward to greet Grandma, and took her outstretched hand. ‘Ah, it’s grand to be seeing you, Mrs O’Sullivan. Thanks be to God you be looking the picture of good health.’
Lillie placed the tea tray on the table. She didn’t think Lady Fitzpatrick looked well at all, even though the fun and vigour that Lillie remembered was still there. She was pale and had lost a lot of weight. Lillie always remembered her as roly-poly, with a thick mass of steel-wool hair. But her hair had thinned out considerably. Old age, the death of her husband, and the aftermath of Clara’s runaway bride act no doubt all contributed to her decline.
‘I can’t believe you’re not shrivelled up like a roasted almond,’ she said to Lillie. ‘All that Australian sun must be so bad for the complexion. But tell me, my dear, how is your family? Do fill me in on all the gossip. I believe Ronan’s joined the Army and is off to fight the communist hordes in that ghastly war in Vietnam. Very noble of him, I must say.’
‘Yes,’ Lillie said. ‘It is, isn’t it?’
Seamus now stood to fill Grandma’s and Lady Fitzpatrick’s teacups. She remembered Sheelagh saying how all the waitresses at the café she worked at in Grafton Street fancied him, and how he had a girlfriend he would take there. She wondered if he was still taking out that same girl.
‘Vietnam needs all the soldiers it can get,’ he said to Lady Fitzpatrick, pouring from the teapot. ‘War is a dreadful thing. You’ve only got to look at Ireland with us all at each other’s throats.’
‘Ireland will never be at peace,’ Charles proclaimed. ‘We’ll always be fighting each other. Even if we’re not involved in someone else’s war.’
Seamus laughed. ‘You’re right there, Charles. And apart from the religion bit, to think the IRA and the business in the North could all be done and dusted if the British would give us back what’s rightfully ours.’
Lillie imagined Seamus and Charles had many conversations like this, and that Seamus might add playfully, ‘Including handing us Irish back Drominderry House, old chap.’
But Grandma could get very heated when politics came up.
‘Has anyone heard any news of Rathgarven?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘Are the Donoghues still living there?’
‘They are,’ Lady Fitzpatrick said. ‘Regrettably I believe the place has been let go. The gossip is he might be placing it on the market soon.’
‘Oh,’ Lillie said. ‘How sad if it’s been let go like that. All the same, I bet he’d want an arm and a leg for it.’
‘Prices have certainly improved since your dear parents sold to him. So no doubt it would be worth a bit now. Probably some ghastly rock star from England will snap it up.’
‘How awful,’ Lillie said, feeling quite sick thinking what might happen to her childhood home. She wished she was older and had made millions so she could buy it back herself. She wondered if her parents would be interested. But their life was in Australia now. Even so, she would let them know.
‘Come on, Hugh,’ she said, looking over at him, ‘why don’t you take me down to see Merlin? Maybe it’s a furphy that you’ve still got him. I must see for myself.’ She turned to Seamus. ‘What’s say you come as well? I’ll show you the best little horse on earth.’ Then she thought of Muffin at Eureka Park. ‘Well, the best in Ireland.’
‘I’ve already met your Merlin,’ Seamus chuckled. ‘Nevertheless, I could do with a walk, so I’d be more than happy to come and have a chat with the old fella.’
As they walked across the meadow with Hugh to see Merlin, Seamus told Lillie how he found Drominderry House to be the perfect retreat for writing. He pointed out the boathouse on the edge of the cove and grinned.
‘As Charles is always keen to have my congenial company, he loaned me the boathouse for the summer.’
Seamus said he had set up his typewriter so that he could look out over the rocks to the river. If he were experiencing writer’s block, he would sometimes take himself out fishing in the Fitzpatricks’ small wooden rowboat. Or he’d sit on the jetty dangling his feet in the water while he tried to think up scenarios for his novel.
‘Failing all that,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye, ‘young Hugh here will tell you that I go on up to the house and annoy Charles. If it’s that time of day, we’ll share a bottle of red. Amazingly the words run easily then. It’s only the next morning I realise the wine was doing all the talking.’
Lillie laughed. ‘I thought Hemingway and Fitzgerald were always three sheets to the wind when they wrote. Brendan Behan certainly was.’
‘They may well have been. What I write is supposedly historical. A lot of fact has to appear in there one way or another. After a few wines, fact becomes fiction.’ He gave a hearty chortle. ‘Or maybe fiction becomes fact. Either way it can be dangerous.’
When they came across Merlin, Lillie rushed forward and gave him a huge hug. She smiled at Hugh. ‘Thank you for looking after him.’ She stood back. ‘Apart from being a bit greyer around the eyes he’s just the same.’
‘Ah, it was my pleasure. Now,’ he said, looking across the meadow, ‘I’ll leave you two here with Merlin. I can see Paddy over there and I promised I’d help him hang that gate.’
After he’d gone Lillie continued to pat Merlin and run her fingers through his mane as she looked out to the river where a few sailing boats were tacking in the breeze. ‘Isn’t this the most glorious spot?’ she said to Seamus.
‘It is to be sure.’
‘But tell me … What was Canada like?’
‘Canada’s not bad at all,’ he said, rubbing Merlin on the rump. ‘But Ireland’s my home. As soon as I was of age, I came back.’
‘And your mother and stepfather? And the other children?’
‘They’ve made a grand life for themselves over there in Toronto. They ended up buying a hardware business. My stepfather said he used every bit of hardware available when trying to keep the machinery afloat in the dairy. So he thought a hardware store was a good fit.’
They said goodbye to Merlin and wandered back through the meadow. As they chatted Lillie realised that she still found Seamus immensely attractive. When he put his hand out to help her over the style dividing the meadow from the front garden, and held her hand for just that little bit longer, she felt a tingle run up her arm.
‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ he said, holding her eyes with his. ‘I did wonder how you were getting on in Australia.’
‘You knew we went there?’
‘Not until Charles told me. It was after that when I wondered about you.’
‘Really,’ Lillie said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d remember me at all.’
‘Ah, but I did.’
Inwardly, Lillie smiled. Maybe staying at Drominderry House will be more exciting than she’d imagined.
* * *
Lillie would remember that long hot summer in Ireland as one of the happiest in her life. While her grandmother and Lady Fitzpatrick spent their time chatting, knitting, playing cards and relishing Maisie’s cooking, Lillie, Charles (who never once mentioned Clara), Seamus (who didn’t seem to be dating anyone) and Hugh did everything together — that is, when Charles and Seamus weren’t working. For C
harles had plenty to do trying to keep Drominderry House afloat. And Seamus was now a writer of historical novels. While at Trinity he’d had one published in England to great acclaim and was trying to recreate that success with a story set during the Crimean War.
The four of them sailed in weekend competitions on the Ken-mare River and went horseriding along the narrow laneways to different coves and swam at Derrynane Beach in front of the home of Daniel O’Connell, the renowned liberator, which had been recently opened to the public. Although Lillie rode one of the Fitzpatricks’ horses, she spent ages sitting with Merlin in the field and grooming him. Maisie was in her element with so many young ones around. When Charles was caught up on estate matters, Seamus and Lillie would sometimes sit by the water or go out in the wooden rowboat like Lillie and Ronan used to do.
‘You sure you’re taking this seriously?’ Seamus chided her once as they sat in the boat fishing and Lillie was reading a book. ‘You can’t expect the fish to bite if they think you’re not interested.’
What he didn’t realise was that Lillie was not reading her book. In fact, what she was doing was trying to control her emotions. For she realised Seamus was getting under her skin. Once again. It was those incredibly sexy eyes; the way he always seemed to be about to break into a happy laugh. But above all it was his love of literature, and how he talked to her as though she was the most important person he had ever met.
I’m falling in love, she thought. It’s not puppy love like when I was fourteen. This is something totally different.
CHAPTER
46
Lillie couldn’t help herself. Despite telling Grandma she wouldn’t, one afternoon she drove across to Rathgarven to see if she could spy anything. As she suspected, the gates were locked. All she could see was the driveway, which looked neglected and overgrown. She felt a dreadful pang of anger towards that man, Donoghue. The least he could have done was keep it all looking loved. To her right was the public path that snaked down to the cove. She walked along it and sat on the bank. Picking up a stone, she threw it into the water and watched the ripples swirl and twist. Ronan had loved this cove so much. Was he frightened in Vietnam? She’d written to him a few times since she’d arrived in Ireland, but hadn’t heard back. Surely he would be jealous of her being here right now. Or would he be sad that Rathgarven was no longer going to be his?
The Homestead on the River Page 39