by Maggie Finn
‘Just thinking about the future. Vacations, that sort of thing.’
‘Sean, you haven’t got time for vacations. We need you focused on getting the London office ready. The expansion is everything.’
He turned to face her.
‘Sis, look at the time. A normal person would still be tucked up in bed dreaming about puppies or something. If I can’t have a life of my own in the middle of the night, when can I?’
‘Is that a crack about me? You’re implying I don’t have a life of my own?’
Sean knew this wasn’t the best time to be starting this argument. He hadn’t slept properly in days and was on already on edge – so was Caroline, evidently. But when was a good time? He took a deep breath.
‘Look, most people go to work nine to five, then go home and watch the soaps or play golf or go on dates or whatever. Having a life of your own away from work is not a crime, Caroline.’
‘You’re describing people who have jobs, Sean. This is a family business, we have no safety net. Entrepreneurs work eighty, ninety hours a week. You have to keep moving or die.’
Sean looked at her.
‘There you go again. It’s a business, Caroline, not life or death.’
‘It is to me.’
Sean looked at her, tried to remember the vivacious girl with the sparkling eyes Caroline had been, the wild, free spirit who thought nothing of hitching to Marrakech or spending a month living in a yurt.
‘Come on,’ he said, taking the headphones from her hand. ‘Something I want to show you.’
Caroline stepped back. ‘Sean, I have work to do. The paper suppliers have…’
Sean held up his hand. ‘The paper suppliers are still in bed. The milkmen haven’t even left home yet. It’s just us and the seagulls; I think you can spare a few minutes.’
Reluctantly, her shoulders rounded, Caroline allowed Sean to turn her around and lead her out of the building, past the tall thin warehouse windows that looked onto the street. Kilmara had been an important river port for moving goods around the coast to Galway, Limerick and Tralee, then on to Dublin or overseas, so these grand warehouses were crowded all along the river and harbor front, which meant WestTec was still in the heart of town, but still close to water, something Sean appreciated in the rare moments he allowed himself a break from the computer screen.
‘Where are we going?’ said Caroline impatiently as she followed Sean down a narrow lane.
‘Just relax. Think of it as mitching; you remember doing that, don’t you? Playing hooky?’
He saw a flicker of a smile on his sister’s face. ‘I’m reformed.’
‘Sure you are.’
The sun was slanting through the gaps in the buildings and the air was already warm. They turned left along the river and Caroline raised her hand to shield her eyes. ‘Gosh,’ she said, squinting at the sparkling water. Boats were moored all across the estuary and down toward the harbor, their white paint and sails making them look like a flock of seabirds bobbing on the swell.
‘This way,’ said Sean, cutting through a gate and over an old iron bridge.
‘This better be good,’ Caroline grumbled, but Sean could hear the reluctant smile in her voice. Caroline’s chin had raised and her pace had slowed; the anxious energy of the office was being slowly discharged by nothing more mystical than sunlight.
Sean stopped at a gap in a wall and turned to offer Caroline his hand. She frowned. ‘What is this? Are we jumping in the sea?’
‘Not quite. But you’d better take your heels off.’
Ignoring Caroline’s look of displeasure, Sean took her shoes and helped his sister down a slope of rock and onto a small belt of sand and pebbles. ‘Now you have to duck,’ he said, holding her wrist as they walked crab-wise under a rocky overhang.
‘Seriously, Sean,’ said Caroline, ‘I really think this has gone far enough…’
She trailed off as she straightened up. ‘Oh golly,’ she said quietly.
They were standing in a little bay, a tiny crescent of white sand lapped by shimmering water. An ancient wall – the unseen side of what had once been the Kilmara customs house – was at their back and there were grassy banks scattered with tiny yellow flowers either side. It felt like they were in some hidden cove miles from anywhere and yet they were only yards from the center of the old town.
‘How did you find this place?’
Sean shrugged.
‘I spend a lot of time looking at sea charts; you know, for tides and breaks and so on? I spotted this on an old chart of the harbor. It wasn’t accessible until they redeveloped the old library and took out a wall. That’s why it’s so untouched.’
She looked at him.
‘So you’ve been mitching too?’
He smiled.
‘Strictly during my lunch hour, boss.’
Caroline sighed and sat down on the grass.
‘Beautiful,’ she said simply. Sean let her sit, drinking it in. It was the first time in a long while he’d seen his sister actually relax. In the office, she was so clenched, so intense, fine-tuning every little detail. Control freak just didn’t cover it.
‘So the idea is I see what you see?’ she said after a while. ‘That I understand why you’re so fixated on surfing?’
‘Yes, but not surfing so much as the sea – and the land,’ he swept his arm to include the beach, the sky and everything inbetween. ‘All of it.’
He sat down next to her. ‘You used to love all this, Lino.’
She glanced at him, wary. The hooded eyes of a dog expecting a blow. ‘That was before.’
Sean nodded. Before the hospital, she meant. Before those horrible white wards with their plastic chairs and Styrofoam cups where the windows never opened and everyone watched each other from the corner of their eyes. Caroline had been sick when she had gone in, there was no question of that, but what she had needed – desperately needed – was rest and kindness. It had always been Sean’s belief that it was that ward, not Caroline’s exhaustion which had made her so unhappy.
‘I know you resent me,’ said Caroline. He looked at her.
‘I don’t,’ he said truthfully, ‘I really don’t. Why would I?’
‘Because I stopped you going off to see the world.’
‘What? That’s crazy.’
‘Is it? You’ve said it yourself, I was the one who started you surfing, coming back with tales of parties on the beach.’
‘That’s true, no question. And I’ll always be grateful to you for it.’
She shook her head.
‘But then just as you’re old enough to go off on your own adventures, I… well, I came crashing down, wings singed, and you were forced to stay.’
Sean looked at her, then threw back his head and laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘That’s why you’ve been giving me such a hard time about London? Pushing me to go because you feel guilty about trapping me here in small time Ireland?’
‘Of course! London’s the future for you Sean, go and grab it.’
‘But… why don’t you go? Why don’t you grab it?’
‘Me? Ha!’
‘Seriously, Caroline.’
She looked at him and for one moment, Sean saw that she was considering it.
‘No, I can’t. You know I can’t.’
Caroline had struggled, that much was true. In those early days, she needed stability, routine and the office gave her that. Everything on a spreadsheet, everything in its place. Caroline was so tightly wound because she felt if she let go, she’d unravel. Because it had happened before.
‘You can do anything, Lino,’ said Sean. ‘You climbed pyramids and danced in waterfalls.’
‘That wasn’t me.’
‘It was. And it can be again, you just have to be brave and take that first step.’
Caroline picked a flower from the grass beside her, stroking the little petals with one finger.
‘But I don’t understand,’ she said quietl
y. ‘Don’t you want the adventure?’
‘Ah,’ said Sean, smiling. ‘That’s what you’ve never understood. This is my adventure. The sea here, the water. I love how the ocean changes from purple to sky blue, how sometimes it rolls like a giant, sometimes it’s jagged like shattered rock.’
Caroline smiled sadly.
‘You really did get the bug, didn’t you?’
‘I did. And I met a girl who made me realize this is where I wanted to be.’
‘Molly, of Molly’s Café?’
Sean pulled a face. It had been horrible enough to have to face Molly outside the office, but ten times worse to have Caroline and Stacy and the rest of the staff witness it.
‘Yes, her,’ he sighed. ‘But it turned out not to be her in the end. I mean, Molly was part of the process, but she’s not part of the equation now – you saw that. So I’ll go to London and set up the new office, because you were right.’
She smirked. ‘I was right?’
‘About one thing, anyway. That WestTec used to stand for something and how we need to get back to that. That we need to build the business on integrity and trust.’
‘Is this about Ross Oil?’
He smiled.
‘A little, I suppose. But the last few weeks have made me see that if we’re going to expand into Europe, we should do it with purpose. If we’re brave enough to go out and find clients, we need to be strong enough to turn clients down too.’
‘It is about Ross Oil.’
Sean laughed.
‘Maybe. But I still think you should go to London, Lino. I really think you’re ready.’
‘But Ma…’
‘Ma’s gone, Lino. For us, anyway. I think Da being there all the time is a comfort for her, a rock to lean on. But us visiting? It just upsets her, confuses her. She doesn’t remember me.’
‘Me neither.’
Caroline snatched angrily at a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘I don’t cry.’
‘And I don’t mitch.’
She laughed, sniffing. Then she surprised Sean by throwing her arms around him and squeezing tight. ‘Thanks for bringing me here,’ she whispered. ‘It was sweet. But I can’t go, Sean. I really can’t.’
Sean nodded, holding her.
‘Okay Sis. It’s okay.’
And they sat there for a long time.
Chapter Seventeen
There was a black cloud on the horizon. Dark and solid and shaped like an anvil.
‘It’s going to be a disaster, Tess.’
‘No, it’s not,’ said Tessa, gently taking Molly’s shoulders and leading her away from the window. ‘And even if it does rain, we’ll just move the whole thing into the pub. Father Dec has already put up the tables in the church hall in case of emergencies, so stop worrying.’
Stop worrying. It was easy for her to say. For the past three days, Molly had done nothing else. In fact, she had been in a state of utter panic most of the week. The smallest thing would set her off. She would see a salt cellar on the table and worry that they didn’t have enough condiments, or she would be chopping onions and spend an hour fretting over which flavor soup to make: onion? Carrot? Pea and ham?
And of course, every one of these internal arguments ended the same way: what did it matter if no one came? It was like that old conundrum about the tree falling in the forest: if no one came to Molly’s Café, was there even soup on the menu?
The one upside to this whole nightmare was the way her friends had rallied around. Kate had spent the previous night as Molly’s sous-chef, measuring flour, beating eggs and generally being a high-energy cheerleader. Tessa, being visually-minded, had taken charge of the decorations, both in the café and around the village. Tessa’s natural charm had also been vital as Tess had managed to sweet-talk Danny’s mother into lending her expertise in flower-arranging. According to Orla at the post office, Diana Brennan, usually known as the grumpiest woman in the village, had fallen for Tessa almost as much as her son, inviting her to tea and being seen shopping together in Port Quinn. Orla’s theory – she always had one – was that Diana was just relieved to offload Danny, her no-good Peter Pan son, but Molly knew it was quite the opposite. Tessa was beautiful, sensible and successful; it was Diana who was on the charm offensive because she didn’t want Danny to screw it up and lose her.
Molly looked across at her friend and smiled. Not much chance of that; anyone could see they were head over heels in love. Molly wouldn’t have been surprised if Diana was called upon to make up a wedding bouquet soon. But in the meantime, Diana had come up trumps with the flowers. The café had been transformed into an Alice in Wonderland grotto filled with red and white roses, and it hadn’t stopped there. Using Mrs. Brennan’s contacts in the trade, Tessa had persuaded a nursery near Ballymanor to deliver a truckload of potted trees and shrubs, which had been hung with fairy lights and artfully arranged in the square and all along the route down to the café. Raff and Mikey had even built cute little archways over the lane, which had been wound with ivy and threaded with flowers. The whole village looked pretty and the whole thing had been designed to drive people down toward Molly’s. She would have cried with gratitude if she’d had the time.
‘My word, Molly,’ said Father Dec, walking through the open door. ‘Those cookies smell delicious.’
‘Hands off Reverend!’ shouted Danny good-naturedly. ‘Those are for the RTE news crew!’
Molly couldn’t tell whether Danny was being ironic or wildly optimistic. Either way, the idea of getting the biggest broadcaster in Ireland interested in a tiny café in a tiny village on the far side of the country was unlikely. Still, Danny’s presence as a reporter meant that he’d be covering the event for the Examiner. He’d also volunteered to act as a media coordinator should any press or media come. Molly didn’t imagine he’d be that busy; neither did Tessa evidently as she currently had him up a ladder hanging bunting from the ceiling.
‘Well Molly, I’ve had a word with the man upstairs on your behalf,’ Declan smiled.
‘I think He must have his hands full elsewhere, Father,’ said Molly, nodding toward the black clouds. The weather forecast hadn’t been good, but then it never was in this part of the world. Molly had been watching that dark bank since dawn, willing it to disperse or move in the opposite direction, but it had stubbornly refused to budge.
‘Ach, the Lord’s always listening,’ said Declan. ‘How He decides to deal with it is a different matter. Anyway, I think He may have already answered your prayers.’ He grinned like he had a secret. ‘I was driving past the station when I saw a damsel in distress and brought her along.’
There was a flash of green and orange silk and a wail of ‘Daaarling!’ and like an early whirlwind, Audra Maguire swept into the room, pulling Molly into a bear hug.
‘Mum!’ said Molly, half-choking, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Well, I couldn’t leave my baby girl to flounder on her own, could I? I have nothing to offer but my genius and a lot of elbow grease.’ She pushed up the wide sleeves of her kaftan, her bangles jangling merrily. ‘Where do I start?’
Molly felt her mouth open and close like a fish. She had a thousand and one things she needed to do this morning and babysitting her flaky mother hadn’t been on the list.
‘Mum, I really don’t know if it’s such a good idea…’
‘Do you think you could help me over here?’ said Kate, gently leading Audra toward the back of the café. ‘Molly has made all these beautiful cupcakes, but I just don’t know how best to display them. I don’t have much flair, you see.’
‘Oh you’ve come to the right place,’ said Audra, flashing a ‘told you so’ grin at Molly. ‘Flair is my middle name.’
Molly mouthed ‘thank you’ to Kate who gave her a wink when Audra wasn’t looking. Needing some air, Molly stepped outside where Declan was talking into his mobile phone. Somehow it looked wrong; priests were supposed to have bicycles and baskets and communicate by post, not use modern gadgets. Decl
an’s dog Fiddle bounded over and Molly crouched down to scratch her ears. ‘What do you think, girl?’ she whispered. ‘Is that storm cloud going to come this way?’
Fiddle gave a happy ‘yip’ and Molly chuckled. ‘Not the answer I was looking for, but thanks for your honesty.’
Declan had hung up and walked over. ‘Okay, Davy and Orla have opened the car park in Garvey’s lower field. They’re wearing hi-vis jackets and Orla’s brought some of those glowsticks from her shop in case it gets gloomy.’
Just how bad does everyone think it’s going to get? Wondered Molly. It’s like they’re expecting a blizzard.
‘So how many cars have they parked so far?’
‘Well none as yet, but they’ve only just opened the gate.’
The priest clasped Molly’s shoulder with his big hand.
‘And how are you doing?’ he asked.
Molly swallowed.
‘Me? I’m fine.’
‘Really? Because if I were you, I’d be all over the place.’
‘Sure, there are a lot of things to keep on top of, but…’
‘I mean about Sean.’
Molly looked at him sharply.
‘Kate told me what happened in Kilmara. And I wouldn’t have said anything, but I happen to know Sean.’
‘You… you do?’
Declan nodded. ‘I often see him at the hospital.’
‘Hospital? What hospital?’
‘St. Augustine’s over near Balligan.’
‘Isn’t that a hospice?’
‘It is. Sean’s mum has Alzheimer’s. And I’m not making excuses for him, but I get the feeling he’s struggling with the burden of caring for her and keeping the family business going.’
‘But he worked for Ross Oil, Declan!’ said Molly, her anger returning.
‘I know,’ said the priest soothingly. ‘And some things are hard to forgive, but for what it’s worth, I think Sean’s a good man.’
He gave a sad shake of the head.
‘People make mistakes, Molly. It’s part of being us. But from what I know of Sean, I doubt he thought he was hurting you. I suppose you have to ask whether you can forgive that mistake – and whether what you might have together is worth fighting for?’