Fatal Roots

by Sheila Connolly

  “And what the heck is that?”

  “Usually a hawthorn tree, or an ash. Yeh find them at the edge of a field, standing alone, or in the middle. It’s said to be bad luck to harm them. Do yeh not know the name of yer townland?”

  “I can spell it, but that’s about all.”

  “It’s cnoc sceach, though the Irish spelling won’t be the same as you’ve been writin’ it, and not what yeh’ll find on a map. It means ‘hawthorn hill.’ If yeh come upon a single tree, don’t hurry to cut it down.”

  “Great,” Maura muttered. “So now I’ve learned about at least two things that bring bad luck if you harm them. Isn’t there anything positive around here? No good luck?”

  “That’s a whole different kettle of fish. Find yerself a book about Irish fairies, why don’t yeh? And promise yeh won’t be cuttin’ down any trees or messin’ with any circle yeh may find.”

  “Fine, I promise. I wasn’t planning to cut down any trees anyway. Should this Ciara person worry? Or do you think she knows about the old traditions?”

  “If she’s done her research, she should know. Wonder what the university has to say about them?”

  “We didn’t talk about it, but she asked me if I wanted to go along with her tomorrow morning—she said she’d show me where those scattered pieces of my land are. And she’s got some old maps, which show the circles, some of which are probably gone now.”

  “Take yer time. We’ve enough people workin’ here now to cover the crowds here.”

  Maura wondered how she would handle trekking through fields. And bogs—she’d already discovered the hard way that there were upland bogs you couldn’t see until you sank a foot into one. She’d been raised in a city—one with sidewalks—and she still had a lot to learn. She hoped Ciara knew more than she did, because she didn’t relish the idea of trying to haul her out of the mud. And how did Ciara feel about cows? Because it was all too likely that these big circles she was looking for would be smack in the middle of a field full of cows—and their by-products.

  “Is there anyone she should stay away from? I don’t think she’ll wander through any herds of cows, but she might spook them by accident and tick off the farmer who owns them. She seems to be a city girl, like me.”

  “She was smart enough to let yeh know she’d be lookin’ around your place. Maybe the uni gives instructions to its students, so they don’t get themselves shot.”

  “People around here really do that?”

  “Not often, but it happens.”

  “I’ll be careful, I promise. Do you think your gran Bridget would know about the fairy circles?”

  “She would have done, when she was young. Like yeh say, it may be that a lot of ’em are gone now, and she’s not up fer walkin’ far. But I’m sure she’d love to talk about ’em.”

  “I’ll tell Ciara. So, do we have a few quiet days to look forward to?”

  “We might. Fer a lot of our foreign visitors, their kids are still in school, so June’s not the best time fer ’em. Come July we’ll be busier. Might be a good time to start servin’ food.”

  “Rose told me she was going to look for some used cookware at the farmers market. Might save some money.”

  “She’s a smart girl. She’s likely to find some pieces at a good price, and there’s not much need for a lot of things, nor do we have the room to spare. She should keep her eyes open fer plates and such, unless yeh want to spend all your time washin’ dishes a few at a time.”

  “Not my favorite thing,” Maura told him firmly. “It’s almost opening time. I’m going to open the door and let the place air out.”

  She went over to the front door and pulled it open. The building was old, she knew, and so were all the doors, and the windows were old too. The interior was kind of shabby, but it felt comfortable. And the tourists seemed to like it. The local customers didn’t pay it much attention, but they seemed to feel at home, and often they came in for a pint. And it looked authentic, not because it had been decorated that way, but because the pub had been in business for a long time.

  She stepped outside the door and looked up and down the road. It always surprised her that this was a national highway, since she seldom saw more than a couple of passing cars at once. The weather was unexpectedly lovely—exactly what visitors wanted to believe Irish weather was like, with blue skies and green hills and a lot of cows in the meadows. The air smelled of hay, not auto exhaust, with a dash of cooking food from the closest restaurants and cafés.

  Mick joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s a fine day,” he said, staring out across the harbor.

  “That it is. I hope we get more of them.”

  “I think we’ve got company,” he said, nodding at a car that had pulled into the parking lot of the Inn across the road.

  A woman climbed out the driver’s side, and a girl who looked like a teenager came out the other side, loudly slamming the door behind her. Maura looked at the older woman, then looked again. “That’s Helen, isn’t it?”

  “Yer mother? I’m guessin’ it is,” Mick replied.

  “And the other person?” Maura didn’t really expect Mick to answer, but she had a pretty good idea, although she was having trouble believing it. “I think that’s my sister. Or half sister. What on earth are they doing here?”

  “Looks like yer goin’ to find out.”

  Maura debated between retreating into the darkness of the pub behind her or pasting a smile on her face and welcoming her mother. There was no reason not to choose the second option; Helen had spent some time with her earlier in the year—for the first time in Maura’s life—and they had parted on good terms, she thought. But the question of bringing her half sister along hadn’t come up. If she remembered correctly, the girl’s name was Susan, and she was about ten years younger than Maura. Maura was pretty sure they had little in common apart from Helen. But there had to be a story behind her being here, because Maura didn’t really think Helen had brought Susan along just for fun. Susan didn’t look particularly happy to be here at the moment.

  By the time Maura had run all those thoughts through her head, Helen was only a few feet away. “Helen!” she called out. “I didn’t expect to see you here again anytime soon. And this must be Susan?” The girl stared blankly at Maura but didn’t answer. Maura was ready to declare that for Susan, this was not a fun vacation trip.

  “Maura, it’s good to see you,” Helen said, and gave her a cautious hug. “I would have given you some warning, but this all came up so quickly I didn’t get a chance. It’s about the hotel.”

  That might explain a few things, Maura thought. “Listen, come on in and have some coffee or something, and we can sit down and talk about it. It’s not very busy at the moment.”

  “Thanks, I’d like that. Susan and I took a red-eye flight overnight, so we haven’t slept, and I’m pretty sure I’m not very coherent at the moment.”

  Maura stepped back and held the door open as Helen and Susan entered. “Mick, you remember Helen. And this is her daughter—her other daughter—Susan. Can you start some coffee?”

  “Happy to. Helen, it’s good to see yeh again. Find yerselves a seat and I’ll bring yez the coffee when it’s ready.”

  Helen aimed for a table in the front corner. Susan followed, without looking at Maura. Maura waited until they were settled, then took a chair. “So, change in plans for the hotel?” Maura began. “Did your group vote to keep the hotel or dump it as fast as they can?”

  “They voted to keep it, for now,” Helen said, “but they’re going to revisit the question after a year. Since John is … no longer involved, they gave me control for now, but I already know it won’t be easy.”

  “And you brought Susan along this time?” Maura asked, trying to think of any reason that would have been a good choice.

  “Yes. Tommy’s going to some wilderness camp, but Susan didn’t want to go to a camp. Her father and I thought sitting around the house stewing all summer was a bad
idea, so I told her she’d come with me. She’s never been outside the country before.”

  And she’d never met me, Maura thought. “Did you tell her about me, and how we met?”

  “Hey, I’m right here,” the girl protested. “No, Mom never talked about her life before she married Dad and had me and my brother. Then she dumped the whole story on us, all at once, right after she got back from her last trip here. I didn’t want to come, but she didn’t give me a choice.”

  Maura swallowed a smile. “Hey, kid, she never got in touch with me at all. When she left Boston, I was too young to remember her. So you could say she dumped her history on me too, only a few months ago. We’ll have to compare notes.”

  Susan’s eyes widened—apparently she hadn’t expected Maura to see her side of things. “Good idea. Mom says we’ll be around for a while.”

  Mick slid coffees across the table and retreated silently.

  “So, Helen, what’s your plan?” Maura asked. “You staying at the hotel? You thinking of making changes now that you’re in control?”

  “Yes to the first question. I want to take the second part slowly, but I realize this is peak tourist season, so I may not have that luxury. I’m sure I’ll keep busy, but I’m not sure what Susan will find to keep herself busy.”

  “Rose should be in soon—remember her? She’s pretty close to Susan’s age. And I’ve hired a couple of kids—brother and sister—which really helps. And we’re working on the kitchen. So, I warn you, Susan—if you don’t find something else to do, I’ll put you to work here.”

  Susan just looked glum. “Great. I can go home and tell my friends I’ve been working in an Irish pub all summer.”

  “And what will they think about that?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “We can play it by ear. Helen, are you heading over to the hotel now?”

  “As soon as the caffeine kicks in. I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

  “Thanks for stopping here first. It’s good to see you. And to meet Susan.”

  Helen downed the last of her coffee and shepherded Susan back to their rental car. She pulled out carefully, and then they were gone.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Maura said to Mick.

  “She gave yeh no warning?” he asked.

  “Not a word. We parted on fairly good terms, I think, but she never discussed bringing Susan with her. Poor kid—what the heck is she going to do with herself while her mother is working? She seems a bit young for a job.”

  “That I can’t say. But Rose was no more than Susan’s age when she started workin’ here,” Mick pointed out.

  “Mick, I think Rose was born older than Susan. We’ll see.”

  The morning passed quickly, with a small but steady flow of customers. It was close to noon when Maura noticed a girl standing on the other side of the road, staring at her. Susan? Then the girl looked quickly in both directions—where there were no cars at all—and crossed.

  “Hello again, Susan. Are you looking for something?” Maura asked when the girl was close enough to hear her.

  “And you’re Maura, the big sister, that nobody told me about.” Susan’s tone was edgy. “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “Half sister. Sure. Come on in. You want something to drink? There’s coffee or tea or soda.”

  “I just want to talk,” the girl said, brushing past Maura. Mick looked up when she walked to the bar, then looked at Maura, who shrugged. “Hello, Susan. Did Maura ever introduce me? I’m Mick. I think I’ll go clean up in the back room,” he said, and went through the doors in back. Tactful of him, Maura thought.

  “Bar or table?” Maura asked the girl, who was looking increasingly unsettled.

  “Bar, I guess. And coffee.”

  “Pick a stool, then. I’ll get the coffee. Oh, wait—some rule somewhere says I’m supposed to ask you if your mother knows where you are.”

  Susan snorted. “We flew in yesterday, stopped here, went to the hotel. Mom took a nap, then told me she had an afternoon meeting to go to. I left.”

  “So of course you decided to come back to my ratty pub?” Maura asked, as she filled a coffee mug. She set it on the bar and pushed a sugar bowl toward the girl. “How’d you get here?”

  “Taxi. I asked at the desk. Look, this isn’t easy. My mother didn’t tell me I had a sister living in Ireland until she announced she was taking me to Ireland, like, the next day.”

  “Well, don’t feel sorry for yourself. I didn’t meet her officially until earlier this year. She just kind of showed up. At the time she didn’t happen to mention she would be back here now, much less with you. Your father and brother didn’t happen to come along too, did they?”

  “Nope, girls only. My brother had other plans anyway.”

  “How much did she tell you about me, when she got back?”

  Susan sipped her coffee, made a face, and added more sugar. “Not much right away. I know she felt bad about dumping you, but she’d made a whole new life and she didn’t seem to know what to do. Then her job sent her back here, and she decided to bring me. Don’t ask me why.”

  “I’d guess some mother–daughter bonding thing. Either that or she thought you’d get yourself into trouble if she left you alone. We don’t have to be friends or anything, and you don’t have to like me. I’m glad to meet you, and I’ll answer whatever questions you ask, but it can end there. So, call your mother and tell her where you are, before she calls the gardaí. That’s the police. You have a mobile, right?”

  “Well, yeah, of course.”

  “Then call, and maybe we can go find something to eat.”

  Silently Susan fished her phone out of a pocket and headed for a corner, where she made a call. From what little Maura could hear, it didn’t go well. But why would it? Susan had sneaked away in a country she’d never seen before, to find Maura, whom she’d barely met and had heard of only weeks earlier, and hadn’t bothered to tell her mother where she was going. Not a smart thing to do, anytime or anywhere. Even Maura knew that much.

  Susan returned after about three minutes. “Meeting’s over. She’s going to come here as soon as she can get ready. She’s pissed.”

  “She has every right to be. You didn’t tell her I had any part in this, did you?”

  “Why would I do that? This was my idea, and I got here, didn’t I?”

  “You did. But she may lock you in your room for the rest of the trip.”

  “I haven’t got anything else to do,” Susan muttered, her voice sulky.

  “Well, let’s take care of the food—we have time to get some before she gets here. But you’ll have to settle for Costcutter bread and butter, or something like that. We can walk—it’s just up the street.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Mick?” Maura called out. He appeared quickly.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Susan and I are going to go find something to eat. Susan sneaked out of the hotel to come here, but I told her she had to call her mother and let her know where she was. Would you mind staying here in case Helen shows up and tries to chew on the woodwork?”

  “No worries. I’ll try to keep Helen calm.”

  “Good luck with that,” Maura said under her breath.

  Maura led Susan out the door and turned up the street. “Who’s he? Do you work for him?”

  “Not hardly. I own the pub. He works there, and has for a while, since before I got here.”

  “Huh. You two a couple?”

  Maura shrugged. “We haven’t decided. Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, this is Leap, County Cork, in the Republic of Ireland, population two hundred and fifty people. Three or four pubs, depending on who feels like opening at any time. Two churches, one school. One gas station, which is one place where you can get food—it’s not bad, but if you want a real choice, you have to go to Skibbereen. They have good restaurants there too, not just at the hotels. And in case you don’t notice, there’s a lot of open land around here and
a lot of cows. It’s a dairy region.”

  “You grew up in Boston, right?”

  “I did. This is very different, and I think I like it, but it takes getting used to. The fact that I inherited the pub and a cottage certainly makes a difference. And I have no reason to go back to the States. I hope you get to see more of this area.”

  “Yeah, like Mom is going to let me out of her sight.”

  “You’re the one who gave her a scare. Please remember to apologize.” They crossed the road in front of the church, and Maura said, “Okay, here we are. What do you want to eat?”

  Fifteen minutes later they came back to Sullivan’s to find Mick waiting in the doorway. “She’s here. And she’s spittin’ nails, although mebbe that’s the jet lag.”

  “Might as well get this over with,” Maura told him. “Hello again, Helen. I’ve got your wandering child here with me.”

  “Could I have a private word with Susan before we chat? The back room, maybe?”

  Maura nodded. “Go right ahead.”

  Helen headed for the door to the back room, and Susan followed, without looking at Maura. The door shut behind them.

  Maura turned back to Mick. “Well, this should be interesting,” she told him.

  “And she didn’t ask her mother’s permission to drop in this morning?” Mick asked, smiling.

  “Exactly. And I knew nothing about it until Susan showed up at the door.”

  They busied themselves with what little cleanup remained. Rose was still at one of her cooking classes, and Maura wasn’t holding her breath waiting for customers. It was at least twenty minutes before Helen and Susan reappeared.

  “Let me apologize for any inconvenience Susan has caused,” Helen began quickly.

  “Helen, she’s a kid, and you just dragged her across an ocean. Then you left her in your room. She wanted to see me. I don’t quite know why, or what you’ve told her about me or the pub or the village or Ireland, but it’s not a problem. Maybe you could explain? Do you want some coffee or anything else? Please, sit, and slow down.”