Bonnie took off her mirrored sunglasses and stood tying her hair up in a knot, looking in awe at the little cottage.
“Wow Liadh, this is really sweet. Why would you sell it? I mean it would make such a great holiday home. Look, your decision, you’ll sell it no problem, if that’s what you really want.”
Liadh grabbed her bags from the car and slammed down the boot a little harder than was necessary.
“It is what I want, Bon. I had no idea until mam’s will that we even owned this cottage. I always assumed that Neddy rented it off the O’Malleys, since it is technically on their land. My objective here is simple Bonnie. Clean it up over the summer and then sell, sell, sell.”
Bonnie pouted and gave Liadh puppy dog eyes. “But, it’s so lovely.”
Ignoring Bonnie’s gushing, Liadh tutted as her heel sunk into the soft grass. She moved as if in a dream towards the front door, her feet moving heavily, each step a reminder of what once was. As the door creaked open, she pulled in a breath and held it for a few seconds as she felt the familiar tension in the door as it stuck. Over twenty years had past since the last time she had opened this door, twenty years since she had clicked that latch and ran into the house into the arms of her mother or Neddy.
“Liadh.”
“Hmmm.”
“You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you.”
Liadh bit her tongue between her teeth and turned to look at the face of her friend, almost laughing out loud when she thought of how Bonnie would stick out like a sore thumb in Kilvarna. Dark Purple hair worn long with streaks of lilac and blue, hung curtain-like around her shoulders. She usually had blue 1950’s style reading glasses, which framed big brown eyes, a small pert nose and a wide mouth, which always seemed to be turned up in a permanent smile. A full sleeve of flower tattoos adorned her right arm, and she had one nose and two lip piercings. Bonnie’s style was something of a mystery, but worked surprisingly well for her. Eclectic and floaty. Today’s wardrobe was attempting and succeeding to pull off a flowing floor length skirt in some kind of white chiffon, with swallows imprinted on it and a man’s formal dinner shirt, in white, knotted at her slim waist. Looking down at her own black playsuit and black high heels, Liadh raised an eyebrow and wondered if she needed a makeover. Her wardrobe seemed to consist of black, black and more black, maybe she needed a little of what Bonnie had.
“I know I’ve got you Bonnie. How could I forget?” She laughed and kicked the base of the front door open, out of habit more than anything else. They both coughed as a light layer of dust filled the air.
“Jesus Christ!” Liadh looked around in amazement, it was just as they had left it that day.
Bonnie looked over Liadh’s shoulders into the small kitchen.
“Hello 1940’s, great to see you again.”
“Hey! It hasn’t been that long since it was done up,” Liadh exclaimed. Although the décor was a bit older than she remembered. Neddy hadn’t been one for updating the house and her mother had obviously never felt that it was her place to interfere or intervene. They walked inside and stood looking around the open plan kitchen, living room.
Bonnie looked at Liadh and narrowed her eyes at her. “Sooooo. Any chance of me hooking up with a sexy assed Clare man while I’m here?”
“Bonnie Stapleton. You are the last person who should be hooking up with anyone, never mind corrupting the innocent boys of Clare.”
Bonnie cocked her head to the side and shrugged. “Yeah, but the thoughts of a farmer coming after me with his pitchfork for deflowering his son is somewhat appealing.” Liadh snorted and hung her handbag on the back of an old wooden chair in the kitchen.
“You’re hopeless, Bonnie. You do know Clare people are as cosmopolitan as Dubliners; they are not the pitchfork yielding bog warriors you would like to imagine. Also, you know someday soon someone is going to come along and wipe that smirk off your face young lady. You can’t keep the whole “heartbreakingly detached woman of the world” guise up forever, without someone managing to eventually break through it.”
Bonnie took out a bag of crisps and began munching them loudly. “I would quite like to be claimed by a bog warrior, wow that does sound promising. Ohhh mister warrior let me bend over here and see what happens, wink wink.” Bonnie shook her arse at Liadh and bent over grinning at her. Liadh stepped forward, slapped her arse hard and laughed as Bonnie yelped and rubbed her behind.
“I’m being serious Bonnie, you deserve to meet someone decent.”
“I do what I can to get by Liadh. We all do,” she said dryly.
Watching her friend walk around the cottage lifting up little trinkets, plates and cups and turning them over with interest, Liadh suddenly felt sad for her. Even though she herself had grown up poor with only a mother for company, it was more than Bonnie had as a child. Bonnie had a drunken absent father, and a mother who spent most of her life in and out of prison for shoplifting and other petty crimes. They had both died young, and Bonnie had adopted some form of a protective shield by never staying very long in one man’s bed. Liadh walked around the small living and kitchen area and stopped in front of the old brass framed mirror that had always hung on the wall. Tracing her fingers along the cool metal of the frame she glanced at her reflection. How could I forget? Liadh had nearly forgotten that next week would mark her fifteenth anniversary. Fifteen years since the fire that had ravaged through their little block of flats. Fifteen years since she had looked in a mirror and seen her whole face. Even now, when she saw her reflection it took her a split second to adjust to the person she had become. The right side of her face unrecognisable as belonging to her, but it did belong to her. Turning to the left she could appreciate that she would have been beautiful, the resemblance to her mam was note worthy. Flawless, until she turned her head and then the damage was there for all to see. Not as bad as it had been though, ten skin grafts had improved its appearance so that it no longer looked red and pitted. Now it was subtler, less terrifying. Slightly less.
The clouds outside were grey and mean, and the spring sunshine was an elusive friend. Granny O’Malley pulled the lapels of her duffel coat around her chin and made her way down the lane to old Neddy’s cottage. She had made this journey so often over the years and was happy to be making it again. Once a year she had cleaned out the house for Caoimhe, and the lads had kept the gardens from over growing with weeds. Neddy had been a childhood friend of her husband the Bossman, and had welcomed Siobhan into their circle of friends warmly. When Neddy had offered his home to his niece Caoimhe and her little baby Liadh, Siobhan had been proud of his generosity and goodness. Neddy was a good man. She couldn’t fathom a family that turned its back on its own kin regardless of the perceived slight. Smiling when she remembered the bonnie baby and the nights spent singing and dancing in both houses, she spotted the cottage coming into view and wondered about Liadh O’Neill and how she would be now. She had heard about the fire, about her scarred face, about how she had achieved so much in the last few years. Caoimhe had kept in contact over the years, and Siobhan had relished the thoughts of the brave strong woman making it in the world on her own. She had been so saddened by Caoimhe’s illness and untimely death. Some people had bad luck that followed them throughout their lives; there was often an unfairness and a cruelty within this game of life. Sometimes you couldn’t survive it, no matter how much you deserved to, she would never understand it and didn’t even try. Granny sniffed and crossed herself as she entered the little garden and looked over to the old apple tree where the remains of Neddy in ash form, were scattered.
“Afternoon Neddy,” she called out and nodded at the tree as she made her way up the path.
“Someone’s coming.” Bonnie said in an exaggerated whisper and moved aside the old chequered short curtain over the sink.
“She’s old and looks a bit crabby.” Liadh came up behind Bonnie and sneaked a look out of the window.
“Oh, it’s Granny O’Malley, God she looks the exact same
. What does she want I wonder?”
“Does she know you’re here maybe?”
“Yeah, she knew we were coming. She kept in contact with mam. I found the letters after mam died, I wrote to Mrs O’Malley and she told me about the locum position in the medical centre, and the cottage. She had mam’s Will. I didn’t even know they were in contact, I assumed that when mam left that she cut them all off. It turns out Mrs O’Malley was a good friend to her over the years. Oh Bonnie, I don’t know if I’m able for this, so soon.”
Bonnie grabbed Liadh by the shoulders and shook her gently.
“You will be ready for anything any of these feckers can throw at you, okay? You have survived more than most people will ever have too.” Liadh nodded at her friend and fidgeted with the rings on her fingers.
Bonnie opened the front door and smiled warmly at the woman on the doorstep. Granny O’Malley eyed Bonnie and looked her up and down.
“You’re not Liadh O’Neill.”
“No. No, I’m not. My name is Bonnie Stapleton, I’m Liadh’s friend.” Bonnie stuck her hand out and shook Granny’s hand warmly when it was offered.
“Well it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Bonnie Stapleton, a pleasure indeed. My name is Siobhan O’Malley but you can call me Granny like everyone else. I brought you girls some scones, bread, jam, tea and a few essentials, just in case you forgot to stop at the shop in town.”
“Wow, that is most kind of you, please come in.”
Granny O’Malley entered the cottage behind Bonnie and spotted Liadh immediately at the table.
“Liadh. It’s been an age, so good to have you back in Kilvarna.” Liadh stood and walked towards her with her arms out.
“It’s good to be back, thank you so much for looking after the cottage, it looks great.”
“I did it for your mother, a wonderful woman, a sad loss to you Liadh. It could do with a revamp and a living presence in it. I kept in touch with your mother intermittently over the years Liadh. I only found out about her death after the fact, so please forgive me for not attending the funeral. She told me about the fire, and your bravery too, saving that family’s lives.”
Liadh blushed under her gaze and nodded. “Did you tell…?”
Granny O’Malley interrupted by her tapping Liadh on her wrist. “No. I told no one, it was your business and I knew you would make contact when you were ready to either sell up or move in.” Liadh sighed and smiled at the older woman.
“Thank you. How are all the family?” Liadh tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible and groaned internally when she heard the hitch in her own voice. Granny patted her again on the arm affectionately.
“All good, all big and bold. You girls will come up for dinner during the week?”
Liadh bit the inside of her cheek. “Well-”
Bonnie pushed forward and smiled at the old woman.
“We’d be delighted to come to dinner Mrs O’Malley. Just delighted. I can’t wait to meet all your family. I think it’s going to be a great summer. What do you think Liadh?”
Liadh nodded at Bonnie, her jaw gritted so tightly she wondered how her teeth managed not to shatter with the force of it.
There are many good reasons for drinking.
One has just entered my head-
If a man doesn’t drink when he’s living,
How the hell can he drink when he’s dead?
-Irish saying
Rían walked into the oval bar in the new grand hotel on Redemption Island. Redemption was his favourite spot in the Caribbean. A paradise private island off the west coast of Barbados that his father had acquired in the 90’s, it was heaven on earth. The building boom had been kind to his father, and to his credit, he had used his luck and business acumen well. Running the Caribbean side of the O’Malley Resorts suited Rían down to the ground.
Dark and brooding, in both looks and nature, somewhere between 6ft 5inches and the heavens, Rían suited the sultry balmy nights of the Caribbean ocean. Looking around the bar Rían smiled, contented. It looked exactly as he had hoped it would, opulent yet relaxed. Exclusive yet somehow personal. The silence wrapped itself around him as he walked through to the outdoor pool area and breathed a sigh. Done, another acquisition bought, transformed and ready for the first guests waiting for a well-deserved break from their chaotic lives. Walking along the edge of the freshwater pool, Rían dropped his t-shirt and black sweat pants to the floor, rubbed his hands over his naked body and dived in. The resort was empty; an eeriness that might have spooked other people, was like a salve to Rían. He loved this bit most of all. The few days before staff and clients arrived to start the season, and when the builders and contractors had left and the resort was empty.
Swimming fluidly, arm over arm he took no rest as he powered up and down the length of the pool. Tumbling expertly at each end, he kicked his feet off the side again and again. Finally, Rían stopped and rested, his back pressed against the granite wall of the pool, and his hands moved back and forth making circles in the water. Looking over into the distance he watched the lights that burned from St Lawrence’s gap, in Barbados. On the clearest of nights with no light or noise pollution, you could faintly make out the sounds from the big Island. Rían loved Barbados; it felt like home, the history of it, and the feel of the air, the people and the culture. Irish people had a huge history on Barbados, and in the Caribbean.
When Oliver Cromwell’s men had stolen over 60,000 Irish people from their homes in the 1650’s, he had sent them to the four corners of the globe to work as indentured servants. Over 50,000 had been sent to the Caribbean. There were still the remnants of the Irish in certain places in Barbados, Irish names were still commonplace, and descendants still existed in certain parts of the Island. Rían often stood on the beaches of the Island and wondered what the place had looked like to the first Irish off the boats. The strangeness of the smells and sound, everything so foreign to them. The sun and their masters’ whips burning their backs, stars from another hemisphere shining in the sky, unrecognisable and so different to the stars that blanketed the far off land of their birth, a land of rain and green fields.
Something about the Island was in his blood, just as surely as the hills and fields of county Clare flowed within him also. He floated on his back across the pool, his hands splayed across his hard abs, his thoughts drifted back to his family at home in Ireland. His brother Rory and his new wife Cassidy would fly into Barbados tomorrow and arrive on Redemption by late afternoon. It was time for him to go home and he was more than ready. The last six months had been tough, as much as he loved his duel life between Ireland and Barbados he felt as though he needed to return home. Some kind of urgency had entered his heart and was calling to him, calling him home. What did it mean? He’d spoken to his parents and siblings over the last month and something was off. He wondered if one of his parents were ill. It didn’t bear thinking about really, or his granny maybe, even worse. Ah stop it for feck sake! You’re hardly known for your bloody intuition, are ya, fool!
“You can talk out loud, Rían. No one here to hear you, lad.”
Rían jumped up and stood dripping wet as he stared through the darkness at his brother Rory.
Rory came into the moonlight and smiled at him. “Sorry, you looked like you were deep in thought that’s all.”
Rían ran his hands through his hair and then shook the water off his hands.
“Jesus Rory, you scared the crap out of me! What the hell are you doing here, I thought you were arriving tomorrow? How did you get here? I didn’t hear the helicopter.”
Rory breathed heavily out of his nose and laughed. “Yeah, pretty obvious you weren’t expecting company bro. We got in about an hour ago. I chartered a boat; we landed at the quay and walked up. We thought we’d spend the night with you before you left tomorrow. Here put some clothes on. I don’t want you to be embarrassed when Cass comes out. She’s used to so much more.”
Rory picked up Rían’s sweat pants, grinned
and threw them at him.
Rían caught them in one hand and grinned back raising an eyebrow. Throwing them to the poolside he vaulted up out of the pool and stood like a tall, naked, bronzed beast.
“Yeah, yeah, you wish you had more. I’ve an inch on ya, in every direction.”
Rory snorted and sat at the edge of the pool rolling up his trousers to dip his feet in the water.
“Yeah, yeah, pull the other one.” He sighed and closed his eyes breathing in deeply through his nose.
Rían climbed into his pants, his body immediately dry from the heat of the night. He saw Cass coming out of the glass door of the hotel holding a pitcher of orange juice and smiled in her direction giving her a nod of his head and a wide smile.
“Hey gorgeous, how’re you keepin’? You haven’t divorced him yet then? You know I’d give evidence on your behalf. You’d be entitled to half of everything and sure no one would blame you.”
Cass laughed and shook her head, her red curls bounced back and forth.
“Ah I think I’ll hold onto him a while longer Rían. He’s good for the odd foot rub and sure I’d hate to have to cook my own meals. But, you know, I may hold you to that in the future.”
“Hey, I’m standing right here!” Rory protested, his eyes still closed as he moved his feet back and forth slowly in the water.
Cass smiled at Rían and he hugged her in an embrace that spoke silent words of tenderness, love and mutual respect. Cass was so special to him. To all the O’Malleys. Her brother had died a few years before and his selflessness had changed the life of his sister Aoife, and all of them. Harry’s lungs now gave Aoife the simplest and most beautiful gift there is, life. But, not just because of that, Cass in her own right had wormed her way into all their hearts. Her sense of humour, and the beauty of her very soul ensured her place in the hearts of all the O’Malleys. The fact that she had fallen in love with Rory was a bonus. Rían looked into her eyes and was taken aback to see a sheen of tears resting within them.
Rían: (The O'Malleys Book 3) Page 3