What she had to do now was put it in the cardboard box she’d brought up from the shop. She did that, and when she turned to Frankie, she saw his mind working. Once more she interrupted him before he could say a word. ‘This is the last time I’ll speak to you on this subject. I want every paper and file you’ve taken out of this house returned by tomorrow morning. I don’t know what was in them so I won’t know if anything’s gone. But a solicitor will, Frank, so don’t be a fool as well as a blaggard. Ger could never bear to hurt you, but now you’re dealing with me.’
He stood up and she thought he might hit her. Then his lip curled. ‘I suppose you’ll be ringing Canada now, and running to little Cassie for tea and sympathy. You’re the fool if you think that girl wasn’t sent here for what she can get.’
‘I’ll tell you what she’s going to get, and then you can get out of my sight. I’m going to leave her a site and enough money to build a house on it, so she can have a place in Ireland one day to call home.’ As if in answer to the prayer that had been wrenched out of her, Pat was gripped by certainty and calm. ‘Cassie will make her own choices, the way I wasn’t able to, and she’ll have the courage to take risks, the way I never did. And, no, I’m not going to tell your brothers how badly you’ve behaved. I wouldn’t demean your father’s memory. Now you take this.’ She held out the box with the lustre vase in it.
Frankie stared at it blankly. ‘What’s that?’
‘It belonged to your father’s mother. Fran likes it. Give it to her and tell her I’m happy it’s going to someone who’ll value it. I’m telling you now that everything else will go to Sonny and Jim.’
Chapter Forty-One
When Frankie had gone, voices in the street drew Pat to her kitchen window. She stood back behind the curtain and looked down at the cheerful group emerging from the library. Hanna and Mary were last as usual. As Pat watched, a taxi drew up and Mary got in, fussing over the whereabouts of her handbag and demanding that her coat be tucked in before the door was shut. Then, as the driver pulled away, Hanna began to walk towards the car park. A shout stopped her and several members of the club urged her to come for a drink. Hanna hesitated, watching the rear lights of the taxi disappear round the corner. Then she ran across to where they were waiting beside the flower-filled horse trough and joined them as they sauntered off to the pub.
Pat was about to turn away smiling when Cassie appeared in the library courtyard and went through to the garden. She threaded her way along the gravelled paths till she came to the central fountain, above which hosts of martins swooped and turned. Looking down, Pat could see starry jasmine glimmering in the herb beds. As the birds wheeled above the statue, their beaks gaping for insects, Cassie sat on the edge of the granite basin. Beyond her, at the far side of the garden, the colours of the stained-glass windows were dulled by the gathering twilight. She stayed where she was, her head bent, either deep in thought or bowed down by trouble, then stood up and tossed back her peacock-blue fringe. Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets, she walked on out of Pat’s sight into the shadow of the trees.
* * *
Fury was sitting on a bench with The Divil curled at his feet. The little dog’s bark alerted Cassie to their presence, and his ears pricked at the sound of her feet on the gravel. Though she’d come to the garden seeking solitude, she sat down beside them. Fury greeted her with a nod. ‘I suppose your meeting’s over, is it?’
‘Yeah. Pat wasn’t there tonight.’
‘I know that. She had a visitor. I saw your uncle Frank come out of the flat.’
Cassie’s shoulders twitched in irritation. ‘God, can no one do anything in Finfarran without being seen?’
Fury grinned. ‘That’s heartfelt. Who’s seen you doing what?’
Cassie pulled a face. ‘Mary Casey.’
‘I see.’
‘She’s been sticking her nose in.’
‘Of course she has. How else would she pass the time?’
Cassie snorted. ‘It’s no business of hers who I go out with.’
‘We’re talking about this filthy-rich cruise-ship chap, I assume?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Have you been watching me too?’
‘I have not. But word gets round.’
‘Evidently.’ Cassie scowled. ‘And how do you know he’s loaded?’
‘Oh, the Finfarran grapevine is far better than Google.’
Cassie’s eyes widened and Fury winked at her. ‘I’m hoping that you were cute enough to check him out yourself.’
Despite herself, Cassie giggled. ‘Only after I’d spent the night in his room at the Spa Hotel. I googled him in the morning on the way home.’
‘You might have done better to do a search before falling into bed.’
‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, because the money doesn’t matter.’
‘Oh, right. What’s the attraction, then?’
‘We like the same things. Travel. Being footloose and fancy-free. That’s my thing. Seeing the world. Exploring exciting places.’
Fury nodded thoughtfully. ‘And with Brad it would all be cushy and safe and glamorous. I see what you mean.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘And he does look a bit like a film star.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’ Cassie glowered at the birds, which were still wheeling around the fountain. ‘Okay. Sure. He’s handsome, if you like cool hair and dark eyes and great teeth. He’s good in bed, too, in case the grapevine hasn’t informed you.’
‘Well, that’s always handy.’
‘I never said I loved him.’
‘Good.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you don’t, do you? You’re in love with Jack Shanahan.’
Cassie swung round, about to deny it. Then she frowned. ‘Wait, hang on. Just a minute. How do you even know that Jack exists?’
‘Ah. Well, it was down to The Divil’s crab claws.’
‘What?’
‘The poor dog hasn’t been happy, you know, on that vet’s diet. He’s been pining for his custard creams. So I told myself he needed a bit of variety and took him to the marina in Ballyfin.’
‘For a walk?’
‘Not at all, girl, he gets plenty of exercise chasing rats at home. No, I asked a mate in Ballyfin to spare him a few crab claws. There’s plenty get discarded from the catch if they’re too small. Anyway, I got a bagful and yer man here thought they were great.’ The Divil gave a reminiscent snort, and Fury scratched him with his boot. ‘And, while I was at the marina, I had a chat with Paul.’
‘Margot’s Paul?’
‘That’s the man. He told me that Margot told him that you’d been asking questions about the land back in Mullafrack.’
‘What? Oh, for God’s sake, I was only—’
‘One night a while back I was having a pint with Tintawn Terry. And he mentioned he’d run into Ferdia after your last book-club meeting.’ Fury bent down and pulled The Divil by the ear. ‘Ferdia said that a crowd of you had gone out for a pizza that evening and that, though you’d been dressed to the nines, you’d looked a bit down. He told Terry his oppo in Resolve had been off that night. The name was Jack Shanahan. I used to deliver logs to a woman near Mullafrack. I remember her saying Shanahans lived there before they went off to the States.’ Fury got to his feet and looked down at Cassie. ‘It’s none of my business, mind. I just put two and two together.’
Cassie said nothing. Then she pulled a wry face. ‘Well, I can’t say that I wasn’t warned not to go round asking questions. I guess I talk too much.’
‘Holy God Almighty, girl, that’s not the point, is it? Your problem is that you haven’t done your talking to the right man.’
Fury lounged away with The Divil at his heels. As they disappeared across the garden Cassie remained hunched on the bench listening to the sound of the water falling from carved flowers into the stone basin. In her mind’s eye she could see herself and Fury sitting in the pub in the forest, with The Divil
at their feet eating gravy and cabbage. Fury had asked if she knew what the word ‘glamour’ meant.
‘You mean like models and movie stars?’
He’d thrown her a basilisk glance. Then he’d sipped his pint. ‘What it really means is deception. A charm to make something look like something else.’
Enchantment. That’s what he’d called it. Cassie put her elbows on her knees and stared across the darkening herb beds. And that’s what she’d felt ever since she’d slept with Brad. Enchanted. Confused. Carried away by what had seemed like wonderful possibilities. In the coffee shop in Carrick, Brad had said he thought they had a future. She was the one, he told her, and he couldn’t let her go. It had all felt magical, mad, risky, and crazy, like the moment when they’d plunged down the hillside together with the earth sliding beneath their skidding heels. But was it? Wasn’t the prospect of life with Brad a safe option? One that might seem exciting but which carried no real risk? Alone in the dusk, Cassie blushed for shame. She’d been charmed by the thought of the high life. She’d even imagined the looks on her family’s faces when she’d swan home to Toronto with the heir to a cruise line in tow. And it was Fury who’d made the glamour fall away, as if he’d applied astringent herbs to her eyes to break a spell. In the scented dusk, with the house martins wheeling and swooping, Cassie gritted her teeth and made a decision. She was in love with Jack Shanahan. And now she was going to have to take the biggest risk of her life.
* * *
There was no light on in the kitchen when she climbed the stairs and went into the flat. Pat was sitting by the range with Ger’s blue jumper folded over her hands. She stood up, laid it aside, and turned on the lamp. ‘How was the meeting?’
‘Fine. Great. Everyone missed you.’
‘I’ll be there next week.’
Cassie looked hesitant. ‘Fury said Frankie was here.’
‘He was, love.’
Only a month ago Cassie would have kept pushing. Now she didn’t dare. Pat came and put an arm around her. ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about, truly.’
‘Fury once told me that some family stuff might be none of my damn business.’
Pat gave her a gentle squeeze and took her arm away. ‘Well, I wouldn’t put it that way myself but Fury could be right.’ She asked if Cassie had eaten.
‘No, but I’m not hungry. There’s someone I need to call.’
Pat, who had turned to go back to the fire, spoke over her shoulder. ‘Bradley, is it?’
‘No.’
Remembering Erin’s break-up with Jeff, Cassie had resisted the temptation to text Brad to say she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Instead, she’d resolutely called him, wincing at his polite attempt not to show he was hurt. Now she flinched, fearing an inquisition, but Pat showed nothing more than mild interest.
‘Oh, right. Tell me this, love, were you thinking of going back on your travels soon?’
‘Well, not immediately. But I guess so.’
‘Because you’re not to think you need to stay here on my account. Honestly, I’m fine, and it was you got me through the worst.’
This was too much for Cassie. ‘Oh, God, Pat, I didn’t. I asked all the wrong questions and I made Frankie think I was some kind of evil gold-digger.’
‘What Frankie thinks doesn’t matter a pin. I know you’re no gold-digger.’
‘And I badgered you into going back to Resolve.’
‘You did. But I needed that trip. It’s helped me a lot.’
Cassie hesitated again. ‘Pat, are you really over the worst?’
‘I don’t know, love. If you’ve lived with someone for fifty years maybe you never get over your loss when they die. But that’s how it is. Ger’s gone and I have to keep living. And I’ve got Mary. And Hanna. They count as family, too, you know.’ Pat smiled. ‘And you’ve given me back my friendship with Josie. I’ve missed her. I might even go over sometime and stay with her again.’
‘And, meanwhile, there’s the Transatlantic Book Club.’
‘Yes, and that’s thanks to you too. I know I could ring Josie if I wanted to – it’s not like the old days when a call to the States would cost an arm and a leg. But that’s not the point. The club is a reason to get myself up and out of the flat if I’m down.’
‘Truly?’
‘Truly. I’m going to be fine, Cassie. So you go on upstairs and talk to Jack Shanahan.’
Cassie had reached the door before she swung back in amazement. ‘How did you know who I’m going to call?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Then how . . . ?’
‘The trouble with you is you don’t read enough detective stories. I didn’t know. You’ve just told me.’
The look on Cassie’s face made Pat burst out laughing. ‘Go on, give me some privacy. I’ve calls of my own to make.’ As Cassie disappeared up the staircase, Pat crossed to the phone that stood on the dresser. She had no idea what she was going to say when she called Toronto but maybe just telling Sonny and Jim how much she loved and missed them would be enough.
Chapter Forty-Two
Cassie sat in front of her laptop willing Jack to accept her call and hating Skype’s insistent ring tone. She could see that he was online, which made it worse. Nothing about this was going to be easy. What Jack had seen and heard in the library hadn’t even been dramatic, just ridiculous. Gobnit prancing across the room in her pink unicorn onesie, and Mary scrambling over the seating, scarlet and officious. And the idea of Mary stalking her round Finfarran, and the ghastly revelation that she’d spent the night with Brad. The thought of facing Jack after that was cringe-making but she knew that if she did nothing tonight she’d never face him again.
The insistent tone that was driving her mad stopped, and Jack’s face appeared on her laptop screen. At the back of her mind she observed that, this time, he, too, was sitting in his bedroom. His was orderly, with no embarrassing underwear scattered about, and, compared to herself, he seemed scarily calm. But perhaps he had no reason to be otherwise? Maybe he hadn’t cared about Mary’s revelation. Maybe he’d cut the link in the library out of good manners, because he’d felt the conversation had nothing to do with him. But as Cassie opened her mouth she saw that, under his freckles, he seemed unnaturally pale. The surge of hope she felt was so overwhelming she couldn’t speak.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Cassie!’
Cassie blinked. ‘What?’
‘According to caller etiquette, yours is the next move.’
‘Yes. Of course. Of course it is. Because I called you.’ Taking a deep breath, she controlled her voice. ‘So here’s the thing. I wanted to tell you my news.’
‘Don’t tell me, let me guess. Your world awaits. You’ve taken a job with an exciting new cruise line.’
‘No! I haven’t. I think I was going to but—’ She stopped in mid-sentence. ‘Just a minute, that’s the name of Brad’s cruise line.’
Jack looked taken aback. ‘What is?’
‘Your World Awaits. Why did you say that? Wait, oh, my God, you googled him!’ Ignoring the fact that she’d done the same thing, Cassie bridled. ‘What on earth did you think you were doing?’
‘Well, forgive me for being curious when you couldn’t seem to stop yourself talking about him. Or sleeping with him, apparently. Though, like the kid in the unicorn outfit said, I guess that’s private.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘And I’ve no right to object.’
‘Damn right, you haven’t.’
They glowered at each other from either side of the ocean. Then Cassie bit her lip. ‘I didn’t know you were curious.’
‘Well, I was.’ Jack looked away and then, turning back, looked straight into the camera. ‘I am.’
Hardly able to believe what she was hearing, Cassie asked the first question that came into her head. ‘Did you really have a thing the night the Ashlee woman took over at the club?’
He grinned. ‘I thought I could wean myself off wanting to sit there staring a
t you. It didn’t take long to find out that I couldn’t.’
Relief exploded in Cassie, like a firework taking off. ‘So, do you want to hear my news?’
He nodded, and his eyes were like slivers of blue light.
‘Pat’s going to be fine, and I know what I want to do next. I’ve decided that I’m coming back to Resolve.’
She held her breath, waiting for his reaction, and it seemed like a lifetime before he spoke again.
‘Good.’
‘Really?’
Jack reached out and she almost felt the touch of his finger on her face. ‘Yeah, really. Maybe this time, if you hang around, we’ll get to know each other.’
With a shaky laugh, Cassie placed the tip of her finger on the screen over his. ‘You do realise that it could turn out we’ve nothing in common at all?’
Thousands of miles away, Jack’s face broke into a lopsided smile. ‘I know. Scary, isn’t it?’
‘Seriously risky.’
‘And yet the weird thing is that it feels so right.’
Acknowledgements
My first thanks and acknowledgements must go to the inspirational members of the real transatlantic book club; to Marie Doran and her colleagues in Clonmel, Tipperary; to the kind librarians on Twitter who helped me to find her; and to Terry and Kathy Tate in Peoria, Illinois. (Check out the P.S. section if you’d like to know how they inspired me!)
I’m so grateful to the lovely, supportive writing community on Twitter, and to the readers who chat with me there and on my Facebook page (which is called Felicity Hayes-McCoy Author), who email and message me about my books and send photos from your own book clubs. It’s wonderful to hear your feedback, to know that you love Fury, get cross with Mary, and sympathise with Hanna, and that you recognise Finfarran’s countryside, communities, and dynamics from your own lives. It’s also brilliant to see how a shared love of books, libraries, and reading can bring people together all across the world, and it seems to me that the more we reach out across boundaries these days, the better, so thank you to every one of you who’s contacted me, from Ireland to Alaska to Connecticut, from London, Berlin, and Dublin to Abu Dhabi, and from China to Australia and beyond.
The Transatlantic Book Club Page 27