I watched my brother chatting to Tiffany and her friends and knew he would help Dad when I was gone. But for now, I had to leave those thoughts aside. I’d made everyone promise that there would be no maudlin goodbyes allowed at today’s party. No what-ifs or maybes. No sad reflections or angry recants.
We had one job to do and that was to have fun.
‘Well, if you want to thank me for all of that, Dad, you need to get up there and start singing “Whiskey in the Jar”! Let’s get this party started.’
And party hard we did, until late into the night. We sang, danced, laughed and told stories. Then Uncle Mike called for quiet, ‘Will you sing it for me, love?’
He didn’t need to say which song, I knew. And so, as the moon shone into our courtyard, I sang ‘The Isle of Innisfree’ one last time. Not just for him, but for all of my loved ones, here with me and those that were waiting for me on the other side.
And this dreamer knew she was home.
49
December 2020
Innisfree, Prospect Avenue, Brooklyn
Dear Katrina and Stephanie
If you’re reading this letter, then it means I’ve gone. Now there’s a delicious line full of Agatha Christie drama. You’ll forgive me enjoying this, just a little bit. I know it’s time for me to go. I can feel it. But before then, I have one last letter to write. This time it’s not to myself, either past, present or future. This one is to you both.
My hearts, my best friends forever.
Dan is asleep beside me. He’s exhausted, because he’s trying to stay awake twenty-four seven. He keeps telling me that he doesn’t want to miss a thing. At midnight, I’m going to wake him up so we can ring in one last year together. We made a mess of things last year, didn’t we? Oh OK, I made a mess of things. I’ll kiss him until I have no breath and I’ll tell him that he’s my everything. I need you to keep an eye on Dan for me. And when the time is right, make sure he knows that it’s OK to move on, to fall in love again. But, if either of you go there, I’ll haunt you. Haha! No, honestly, you’ll never sleep again!
I’ve been reflecting about my time-capsule letter a lot. Even though I know it was a tumour that caused me to unknowingly write those messages, I can’t help but think that there was more to it than that. Every single message led me to a beautiful moment in my life.
Corinne
Lucy
Mark
Mom
And they brought us three back together too, didn’t they?
That has to mean something. I need you to both promise to always be there for each other. I know you hate the sappy stuff, Katrina, but Stephanie likes it. I thought you could meet somewhere in the middle. I’ve bought you each a necklace with three discs on it, and the discs have been engraved with our initials. I figure, this way, we’ll always be linking arms with each other. Dan has them and will give them to you, if he hasn’t already. When the Macarena comes on, it is now BFF by-law that you have to get up and join in. I don’t care if you are in church, you both have to swivel your hips like we did that night in the Clongibbon House Hotel.
I’m afraid that Dad will fall to pieces. He’s lost too many people in his life, so he’ll need looking after. And while Uncle Mike will step up, he’s got his own life now with Olive and Teddy. I’m so happy that fate put them in each other’s lives. They work, don’t they? I hope they’ve both finally found their forever after. Once again, I’m calling on you, my sisters in every way but blood, to keep an eye on Dad for me. I think he should go to Ireland, to spend time with Mark. It will help both of them to cope with their grief. He won’t discuss it with me now, but I feel it will be the best thing for him, in the long run. I have an idea how to get him to go. I’ll come to that in a minute.
I saw my grandparents last night. I woke up and they were standing at the foot of my bed smiling. Gran said to me, ‘I was forever telling you that you’d be late for your own funeral. And the one time we want you to be late, you decide to be early. We don’t want you to join us yet, love, but we can see you are so tired. Please know that when the time comes, we’ll be here waiting for you.’
I am trying my best to hold on. But I just want to close my eyes and go. I need to talk to Dan about this tomorrow, make him understand that it’s time for me to let go.
I want you all to bring my ashes to the Saltee Islands. Scatter me by the seals, so I can find my mom again. Afterwards, go back to the harbour wall in Kilmore and eat fish and chips out of paper. Finish the night in Nellie’s pub. Sing, dance, drink, be all kinds of merry. And think of me.
Tell Dad that he must stay in Kilmore Quay. He can rent a cottage and write a great novel there. It’s my dying wish, so he can’t say no. Even though Lucy says there is no chance for them, I can’t help think that in time she might change her mind. They truly did have a beautiful love story once upon another time. Grandad used to say that we need to be kind to everyone, especially those that seem the least deserving. Because kindness gets the best out of even the worst of us. I’ve tried to remember this in my life, I hope I got it right the odd time. Will you tell Lucy this for me?
Speaking of love, Stephanie, I have a plan for you too. You need to go get your man. Katrina will drive you to Cork. Sing Whitney and Celine, all the way down the M7. You’ve spent months messaging Donal. If it hadn’t been for Covid, you’d have visited each other by now. It’s time to work out if what you have is worth fighting for. I think it is. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your future was to be a farmer’s wife?
I know you are both so sad right now. But if it helps, know that I’m at peace. I’m pissed off, don’t get me wrong. I mean, I’m way too young to die. But them’s the breaks, right? What I can tell you is something happened to me when I found out that I was dying. I had an awakening of sorts. I suppose finding out that your time is limited on earth brings a clarity. I’ve taken stock. And I think I’ve done OK in the bigger scheme of things. OK, I never managed to save a president from the dastardly clutches of the Russian mafia, but I did find a long-lost brother. I’m loved and I love, which is the biggest and best achievement of all. As I leave this world, that’s what I’ll cling on to.
I’ve got to say goodbye now. But you know that I’m not really gone, don’t you? When you hear Beyoncé singing about all the single ladies, know that’s me saying hello. When you see three friends linking arms, heads bent low as they laugh and scheme great adventures, that’s me too. Katrina and Stephanie, my BFFs, my amigos, my magicians who have turned my tears to laughter for decades.
I love you both,
Bea x
It’s time to
Curl up with Carmel
Read on for an Author’s Note and exclusive Q&A with Carmel
Dear Reader,
I’ve always wanted to write a story with immigration at its heart. In particular, I have always been interested in the lives of first- and second-generation immigrants. You see, I was born in London, to an Irish father, who left Wexford for a better life when he was sixteen. Daddy made firm friends in the Irish centres, which helped him overcome his homesickness. He played hurling for the Fr Murphy’s and met my mother, a pretty north-west Londoner, over the garden fence at a friend’s house. My early childhood in London was happy and like most children who are born to Irish parents outside of Ireland, I always felt Irish, no matter where we lived. Identity and culture is dictated by those who raise you, I suppose. As a kid, I learnt to Irish dance and attended a predominantly Irish Catholic school. Once a year, our family holidayed in Wexford. Ghosts of my father’s early life were never far away. When he spoke about his home town, a look would steal over his face and his eyes would glisten with memories of a different world. He longed for home. And luckily for him, my mother agreed to take her turn as an emigrant and the decision was made to move back home to Ireland, when I was nine years old. I thank all the stars for that, because I could not imagine living anywhere else but Wexford.
In 2014 I was invited to march in the New York Sain
t Patrick’s Day Parade, with the Wexford Association of New York. Wearing my purple and gold sash, I helped carry the flag up front and it was such a fun and memorable thing to do. I met dozens of the Wexford diaspora who called New York home and as we chatted and laughed, I recognized something in their faces when they spoke about Ireland. The same look I’d always seen on my dad’s face as a young child. I knew that one day I wanted to write a story about the Irish who left and the ones who were left behind. And finally, with The Moon Over Kilmore Quay, I realized that ambition.
As part of my research for Bea and Lucy’s story, I visited New York early in 2020, before the world came to a standstill. During that trip, I spent most of my time walking through Queens and Brooklyn and with every step, I thought about the thousands of Irish people whose footprints were invisible on the sidewalk below me. I interviewed Irish immigrants who kindly shared their own stories. It was particularly wonderful to bear witness to how close-knit the Irish community is in New York. They look out for each other and paying it forward is the norm, not the exception.
I worked hard to research all aspects of the characters’ lives, but my story is fiction, so once or twice a truth may seem manipulated slightly, to make it work. Please forgive me if any inaccuracies jar.
I hope you enjoy The Moon Over Kilmore Quay as much as I loved writing it. It was one of those books that came together beautifully, with most stages of the process a joy.
Much love to all,
Carmel
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It takes a village to raise a child, it’s said. Well, if that’s the case, it takes a whole county to raise a book! There are so many people who play a part in an author’s life, some in the background unseen, others up front. But without them all playing their part, well, there’d be no new Carmel Harrington book each year!
So, I would like to pay special tribute to:
Rowan Lawton, my UK literary agent and friend – she is a wonder and I would be lost without her and the entire team at Soho Literary Agency. Team Carmel has grown a little over the past year actually, with Abigail Koons, my US Literary Agent and Rich Green my US TV/Movie agent, both representing me stateside. I’m lucky to have each of these in my corner.
My publishers at Harper Collins work so hard on my behalf – Lynne Drew, Charlotte Ledger, Kimberley Young, Charlie Redmayne, Kate Elton, Lara Stevenson, Emma Pickard, Elizabeth Dawson, Jaime Frost, Patricia McVeigh, Tony Purdue, Jacq Murphy, Lucy Vanderbilt and so many more who work tirelessly behind the scenes. I’m forever grateful.
Making sure my book doesn’t languish in a dusty corner when it is published, are the many cheerleaders from the book industry. Book retailers, media, bloggers, reviewers, libraries, book clubs, festivals – all working tirelessly to find new ways to get books into the laps of readers. Your job has never been as important or difficult as it has been over the past year. Know that your passionate love of all things literary helps authors like me, every day and I appreciate it so much.
Hazel Gaynor and Catherine Ryan Howard, to whom the book is dedicated. There are a trio of friends in the ‘now and then’ of this book, I thought of you both often, as I wrote their stories. And how you are both friendship magicians too, with the power to turn tears to laughter and frustration to hope. French 75’ zoom chat, anyone?
The writing community both inspires me and supports me every day. Okay, the odd time, it confounds me. But never these crew, who are just lovely! Claudia Carroll, Caroline Grace Cassidy, Alex Brown, Debbie Johnson, Cecelia Ahern, Marian Keyes, Cathy Kelly, Sheila O’Flanagan, Susan Lewis, Cathy Bramley, Milly Johnson, Katie Fforde, Vanessa O’Loughlin, Shane Dunphy, Sheila Forsey, Caroline Busher, Fionnuala Kearney, Liz Nugent, Mary Clerkin and the entire staff at Tyrone Guthrie.
I will forever be grateful to the generous, warm, open and important testimonies I received from Irish immigrants living in New York. They helped add so much warmth and colour to this story – Martin Kehoe (I’m still thinking about your first few days in New York! What a story) and his two charming daughters, Allison and Laura, I think we could have stayed chatting for hours more. Elizabeth Long – your map was a godsend throughout the writing process, I used it every day I wrote the New York scenes. The Gallahue family – Patricia, Helena and Tom – any resemblance Inisfree has to your family home is 100% deliberate! When we visited your home, I could hear the echoes of your family, partying with the Irish community on holidays, I had to borrow a version of it for my own fictional family. I managed to sneak in your wonderful story about moving your dad’s cars on street cleaning days Patricia and Helena; it makes me smile whenever I think of that. While in New York I stayed at the Fitzpatrick Hotel and they took such good care of Roger and me. Much thanks to manager, Shane Cookman. And it’s official Shane, you do make the best tea in New York! Stacey Howlin, thank you for sharing that story about how your parents met. It was so just so romantic and fateful, a fictionalised version was used for Bea’s grandparents.
To all at Virgin Media One on the Elaine show, but in particular Elaine Crowley, Ruth Scott, Sinead Dalton and Kelly Rufus, thank you for letting me be part of your gang.
To Valerie Whitford, Genevieve Sheehan and Rachel Mahon my admin team in Carmel Harrington’s Reading Room, on Facebook. This group with monthly reading challenges and bookish chat, is so much fun to be a part of. New members are always welcome, so come find us!
To my dearest friends for the giggles, love and general cheerleading you all do, to help me reach the end of each book, I thank you all – Ann & John, Margaret & Lisa, Caroline & Shay, Sarah & John, Fiona & Philip, Davnet & Kevin, Gillian & Ken, Siobhan & Paul, Liz, Siobhan and Maria.
The O’Grady and Harrington gang, all that matters is family, right? We knew it before but 2020 punctuated that every day. I love you all – Tina & Mike O’Grady, Fiona, Michael, Amy & Louis Gainfort, John, Fiona & Matilda O’Grady, Michelle & Anthony Mernagh, and Sheryl O’Grady, Ann & Nigel Payne, Evelyn Harrington, Adrienne Harrington & George Whyte, Evelyn, Seamus & Patrick Moher, Leah Harrington, and my beautiful, clever step-daughter, Eva Corrigan. Special thanks to my fabulous mam Tina, who is my first reader and also the calmer of my nerves before I submit each new book to my agent.
And now the final thanks goes to my H’s, the one constant in life, no matter what chaos and madness surrounds me. Let’s be honest, 2020 was a doozy! George Bailey, our rescue cockerpoo keeps my feet warm as I write. And no matter how late I write, he never leaves my side. And the love and kindness I get from Amelia, Nate and Roger, Mr H, is my everything.
AUTHOR Q&A
The settings in The Moon Over Kilmore Quay are written in great detail. Did you do a lot of research into places?
Yes I did! The story takes place in Ireland and USA. Both locations are as much characters in the book really, as the people are. Kilmore Quay is a beautiful fishing village in my home county of Wexford. It’s one of my favourite places to visit. Eating fish and chips from the paper, sitting on the quay side, watching the kids collect stones with the backdrop of the Saltee Islands behind them, is a good day out for us H’s. The locations I used in Kilmore Quay are all real, with the exception of Nellie’s Pub, which I created from my imagination. As for New York, I’ve been visiting that gorgeous city ever since I was twenty years old. And I try to get there at least once every couple of years. My last visit, which was purely for research, was spent in the Irish communities of Brooklyn and Queens, as opposed to the usual touristy spots. That was invaluable in creating Bea and Lucy’s worlds. In many ways, writing this book was a love letter to both locations.
What does the writing process look like for you, and has the way that you write changed throughout your career?
I start with an idea, perhaps a theme I want to explore, or a character that intrigues me. For The Moon Over Kilmore Quay, it began with an idea to explore the consequences of receiving a time-capsule letter. But as I began to write the first draft, I realized that the story was so much more and really at its
heart, it was about immigration and the pull between two homes. My writing process is to write a first draft quickly, usually in three months, then I’ll spend nine months on edits. I write every day when I’m deep into the story, so that I can carry the characters with me at all times.
Have you always wanted to be a writer?
Yes! My earliest memories involve placing my teddy bears in a semi-circle around me, as I regaled them with stories from my imagination. I always had a pretty notebook as a child, and I loved to fill that with thoughts. I had a pony when I was a kid too and everyday as I exercised Mr Bonjangles, I’d tell him stories too. As I got older, I began to dream that one day I could expand my readership from my cuddly bear collection and pony to real people! I still pinch myself that I’ve realized that life-long dream.
You write about a lot of different kinds of relationships – romantic, familial and friendships. Which is your favourite to write about and why?
I’m not sure I could choose between them. I love to write about love in all its formats. I think it depends on the story really, which kind of love is most prominent. But there will always be love, that’s a guarantee.
If you had to describe The Moon Over Kilmore Quay in three words, what would they be?
Ooh, I know three words I’d love to use – International Award-winning Bestseller! You’ve got to dream, right? Here’s three words that came up a lot from my editorial team, that I hope readers will agree with: life-affirming, warm, romantic.
What are your three favourite novels that you’ve read recently, and why?
I think the definition of a great book is one that stays with you, long after you get to the end. Three recent reads that fit into that category are Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, The Midnight Library by Matt Haig, and The Next Person You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom.
The Moon Over Kilmore Quay Page 32