by Ali McNamara
And now there’s this added mystery that Eddie threw into the pot last night: the supposed tales of people going missing in The Welcome House’s cellar. That sounds to me even more of a nonsense than a house that magically welcomes guests and provides food and shelter for them.
If I don’t find answers to all these puzzles that keep presenting themselves to me on a daily basis, it’s going to drive me insane.
I tried to call in on Father Duffy on my way to the park, hoping to get a head start, but he was out. One of his neighbours kindly informed me he was doing his rounds. She made him sound like a doctor, but I guess the local priest has a duty of care to visit his parishioners in their houses if they can’t get out to see him, and Father Duffy seems the sort of priest to take his duties very seriously indeed.
I’ve arrived at the park now, and as I walk through the ornate wrought-iron gates the first thing that catches my eyes is a large map showing the various routes around the park. I’d assumed Ballykiltara Park was a small town park with swings, slides and the like, but apparently not. The vast open expanses of grass, and various options of routes in front of me, suggest this is what I would recognise as a country park back home.
‘Do you need any help?’ a lady wearing walking attire asks as she approaches me.
‘I just wanted to take a stroll around the park,’ I tell her. ‘I had no idea it was so big.’
She smiles. ‘We get that a lot. Most visitors never even make it this far, they’re so caught up in the shops buying their fluffy sheep and Guinness memorabilia.’
‘Yes, I have noticed a few shops like that,’ I say cautiously. Most days, it was all I could do to keep Kiki out of them.
‘A few? The high street is full of them! But we can’t complain; without the visitors and the tour buses stopping off, we’d have little else to support our economy. It’s a shame people can’t spend a little longer here, though, so they can appreciate the beautiful surroundings. Are you staying long?’
‘A few days,’ I say carefully. Tonight would be our sixth night here and I still hadn’t secured a property for Mr Dempsey. We couldn’t stay forever, even though I was pretty sure Kiki would be more than happy to right now.
‘That’s a good amount of time. You’ve had time to make it past the shops! Now, what would you like to see in the park and how long do you have?’
‘I’m not sure. What is there to see?’
‘Well,’ she says, gesturing with her hand at the board, ‘this is the route I follow most days – it takes me about an hour. It’s easy walking on tarmac paths, leading you in a complete circuit of the lake.’
I’m about to say that will do – it would be good to see the lake again – when she continues: ‘But this way,’ she points to another loop on the map. ‘This way will take you past the deer.’
‘There are deer?’ I ask, suddenly remembering the tale that Jackie had told us on the boat.
‘Oh yes, great herds of them roam this area. Would you be wanting to see some?’
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Well, you’ve picked the right time; the deer mainly come out in the early morning or early evening. So you shouldn’t have any trouble seeing them. But the stags, well, they only come out when they want to see you.’
‘So I should take this route?’ I point at the map.
‘Yes, that’s the one. Have fun!’
‘Thank you for your help,’ I tell her as she marches off swinging her arms. ‘You’ve been very kind.’
The woman waves her hand dismissively. ‘Not at all. Us locals are proud of our town; we like to see folk enjoying themselves while they’re here. Enjoy your walk.’
She waves again as she walks away at a brisk pace through the park gates. I turn back briefly to the map, debating whether I should take a photo of it, just in case. But it looks a fairly simple route, so I leave my phone in my pocket and head off in the same brisk manner the lady had along one of the tarmac paths.
I’ve only been walking for about ten minutes, along tree-lined tracks that climb and dip with the undulating countryside, when I spot my first herd of deer. They’re quite some way in the distance, but unmistakable with their graceful, yet quick and nervy movements. I stand and watch them for a bit, wishing that they were closer so I might see them in more detail.
Then I continue on my walk, carefully following the marked path my guide had suggested. Occasionally I’m passed by cyclists or joggers, out for their morning exercise, but as I get deeper into the park I find I have the place to myself. It’s then that my thoughts begin to turn to The Welcome House once more.
Now we have Sarah’s letter, things have changed. The enigmatic caretaker of the house is no longer a myth, some magical entity invisibly entering and leaving the house to deposit provisions and clean sheets. No, we now have proof that an actual person has been doing this, likely someone local too, so all we need to do is find out who that person is, and bingo, we’re on a home run.
I smile at my unintentional house pun.
So what do we know about this person? I’m convinced it’s a man now Sarah is out of the picture. I haven’t seen any more women with Sarah’s substantial build since we’ve been here. According to Eddie, he is tall and bulky. This mystery man obviously knows Sarah and, more importantly, trusts her with The Welcome House duties. He’s eloquent, too – that letter has been written by someone with an excellent grasp of the English language, and beautiful penmanship. From what he said, our custodian has lived in Ballykiltara for most of his life too.
That has to narrow things down a fair bit, I think to myself as I walk along. Hopefully the quiz night might throw up a few likely suspects. It seems, from what I’d heard about it, that the weekly quiz night is well attended, and the trophy is hotly contested. I have a feeling that our suspect is the sort of person to enjoy putting his grey matter to the test, so I’m hoping he will be there. If I’m lucky, I might be able to spot him from the clues he’s given us so far.
The path in front of me takes a sharp turn to the left, so happily I follow it, but as I emerge around the corner suddenly I find myself face to face with a huge stag with antlers almost as tall as its body.
I freeze, and so does the stag, and for what seems like forever we stare at each other, neither of us knowing quite what to do.
‘Good boy,’ I whisper eventually, as the stag continues to eye me warily. ‘I won’t hurt you, honestly.’
The stag suddenly bows his head, and as he does I notice a flash of white between his antlers. Then he paws the ground with his hoof, and for one awful moment I think he might be about to charge at me.
Panic-stricken, I hold my hand out. ‘No,’ I tell him again. ‘I’m not here to hurt you. Be on your way.’
The stag looks at me curiously. Then as if he’s accepting the situation, he bows his head once more, and trots slowly off the path on to the grass, where he gallops over to join his herd, who I now notice are grazing not far away.
I close my eyes and breathe a huge sigh of relief. When I open them again, I notice another animal galloping towards me, but this time instead of the weight of a pair of giant antlers, it’s carrying the weight of a human. As they draw closer, I recognise Finn and Trixie.
‘Are you OK?’ Finn asks as he pulls Trixie up alongside me and dismounts. ‘I saw what happened with the stag.’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Would he have hurt me?’
‘It’s unlikely. Had it been the rutting season, it might have been a different story though.’
‘Rutting?’
‘Their mating season, you’ve heard of rutting stags – right?’
‘Oh yes, when they lock antlers.’
‘That’s the one. Any stag attacks on humans are usually documented at that time of the year. Unless you were threatening his harem or him, of course; then he’d probably have cause to get aggressive.’
‘I came around the corner and he was just standing in the middle of the path. Gave me quite a scare!’
‘I wanted to take a walk, clear my head.’
‘Yes, I can see that. I mean all the way out here. I’d say it was off the beaten track, but there are so many paths around this park it’s almost impossible not to be on one. This particular one is a long way from anywhere, that’s why I bring Trixie out here.’
I look around me. ‘I thought I was on the circular path, the one shown on the board as you come into the park.’
Finn looks up the hill. ‘You would be, if you were all the way over there,’ he points. ‘You must have taken a wrong turn.’
‘I didn’t think I had, but I have been a bit lost in my thoughts while I’ve been out here,’ I admit.
‘Need I ask what your thoughts were about?’
‘No, I suspect you can probably guess by now. So, how do I get back on the right path?’
‘It’s a fair way from here,’ Finn says, looking around him. ‘Unless you want a really long walk this morning, that is.’
‘I’ve already been out here over an hour.’ I check my watch. ‘Golly, make that nearly two hours. I didn’t realise it had been that long since I left the hotel. Kiki will be wondering where I’ve got to. I left her a note, but I said I was only going for a quick stroll to clear my head.’
‘Looks like you’ve one option then,’ Finn says matter-offactly. ‘You’d best head back with me.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t stop you from finishing your ride,’ I pat Trixie’s hindquarters. ‘Trixie would never forgive me.’
‘No, I mean ride back with me, on Trixie.’
‘But wouldn’t that be too much for her?’
Finn shakes his head. ‘Look at the size of her. She’s one of the horses Mac gives to the heavy riders when they come in looking for a horse. She’d take you and me easy. Unless you’re a lot heavier than you look?’ He raises his eyebrows mischievously and pretends to look me over.
I choose to ignore him. ‘But where would I sit?’
‘In front of me. Trixie’s saddle is massive, and if you don’t mind me saying, your bum is not.’
My cheeks pink slightly.
‘I’d have to put my arms around you though,’ Finn continues. ‘To stop you sliding off . . . ’
The thought of Finn’s arms around my waist is not an entirely unpleasant one . . .
‘Right then,’ he says, taking off his riding hat and passing it to me. ‘You’d better wear this. You’ll likely need to adjust it first.’
‘But what about you?’ I ask, adjusting the inside of the hat when I find it’s a bit too big.
Finn knocks on the side of his head with his knuckles. ‘I think you’d agree it’s pretty thick already! Anyway,’ his expression appears to sober, ‘I’d rather you wear it. The hotel’s insurance policy doesn’t cover riding accidents.’
I pause from putting the riding hat on and look at him aghast. Finn appears to be serious, but then he smiles.
‘I thought you were serious there for a moment.’
‘I am.’ Finn winks.
I finish adjusting the riding hat while Finn takes a firm grip of Trixie’s reins, pulling her close to us. ‘Ready?’ he asks.
‘I think so.’
‘Right then, up you get!’
Hesitantly, I look up at what seems a huge distance between Trixie’s saddle and the ground.
‘What’s wrong?’ Finn asks. ‘You have ridden a horse before?’
Finn makes it sound like I’m about to ride a bike.
‘Not since I was small.’ I pretend to readjust the hat on my head. ‘Remember, I told you before at the stables?’
‘Oh yes . . . ’ Finn regards me suspiciously. ‘So do you mean you rode horses as a child, or you’ve been on the back of one when someone’s led you across a field at a garden fete?’
‘The latter,’ I have to admit.
‘Well, it’s never too late to start,’ Finn says brightly, pulling out one of Trixie’s stirrups. ‘All you need do is put your left foot in here, hold on to the saddle tightly, then push up and swing your right foot over Trixie’s back, OK?’
‘Sounds easy enough.’
Finn doesn’t comment, he just grips the stirrup firmly, steadying it while I place my foot inside. Then I grab hold of the saddle tightly like he’d said, and I attempt to push myself up.
‘Not to worry,’ Finn says when I don’t make it quite high enough to swing my leg over Trixie’s back. ‘Have another go.’
So I try a second time, and when that fails I try again.
‘Sorry,’ I apologise when embarrassingly I don’t make it up on the third attempt. ‘She’s quite high, isn’t she?’
‘She’s a big horse,’ Finn agrees, and I’m grateful to him for not laughing at me. ‘Would you mind if I gave you a push?’
‘A push would be great,’ I say, thinking Finn will grab hold of my leg. So when I try for a fourth time and I feel his hand cup itself neatly around my bum, I don’t know whether it’s the strength of his push that carries me up and over the top of Trixie, or the enormity of my surprise.
‘There you are,’ he says, without a hint of the embarrassment I’m now feeling. ‘Now, hold on tightly, I’m coming up too.’
Finn manages to swing himself up and over Trixie’s back without even using the stirrups. What was he – a circus performer in a previous life? I feel his arms immediately reach around my waist as he takes hold of the reins.
‘You hold on to the pommel,’ Finn instructs. ‘That high bit at the front of the saddle. Yes, that’s right, and I’ll steady you from behind. Now, give Trixie a good hard kick.’
I gently tap my stirruped heel into Trixie’s side.
‘Harder than that,’ Finn says, ‘or we’ll never get her to move.’
‘Won’t it hurt her?’ I ask, concerned.
‘No, this is how Trixie responds. All horses are different, but they’re like dogs, they respond best to good clear commands.’
‘OK then . . . ’ I give Trixie what I consider a relatively hard kick. But she still doesn’t move.
‘Little bit harder,’ Finn says patiently.
I kick again, and to my surprise Trixie begins to walk forward across the grass.
‘You OK?’ Finn asks. ‘Do you feel safe enough?’
‘Yes,’ I say out loud. ‘Absolutely fine.’ While inside I’m thinking, How could I not feel safe when your arms are around me?
Finn has particularly strong muscular arms that, even though they’re not actually holding on to me that tightly, make me feel very secure up here on Trixie.
‘Want to go a bit faster?’ Finn asks after a bit.
‘Should we?’
‘Yeah, Trixie will be fine if we trot along slowly. Don’t worry, we won’t be doing any galloping or I’ll be off the back! Give her another kick.’
I do as he says and Trixie begins to move a little faster. I feel Finn’s arms tighten around my waist.
‘Just making sure I don’t fall off,’ he explains, leaning forward to whisper in my ear. And suddenly I’m the one who has to hold the saddle that little bit tighter. But when Trixie slows again, and Finn doesn’t return to his original position, and remains with his body pressed against mine, I’m not sure he’s quite telling me the truth.
The ride back to the stables is over all too quickly. Even though we haven’t ridden all that fast, I’ve enjoyed the feeling of being up on Trixie’s back – almost as much as I’ve enjoyed feeling Finn so close to me. I’ve heard people talk about the joy and immense sense of freedom they get when riding horses, and even after this short trip I’m beginning to understand what they mean. So when we reach the stable yard and Finn dismounts, then chivalrously helps me climb down from Trixie with some dignity, my face is flushed with exhilaration and pleasure.
‘You look like you enjoyed that,’ Finn says as he leads Trixie back to her stables to begin her cool-off a
nd post-ride routine.
‘I did, very much.’
‘Would you like to go for a proper ride sometime?’ Finn asks, taking his helmet from me.
‘Could you arrange that?’
‘It would be my pleasure. We’ll get you your own horse to ride next time though, eh?’
‘That might be better, yes.’ I smile happily up at him.
‘You have a very pretty face when you allow it to smile, Ren Parker, do you know that?’
‘Is that your way of telling me I don’t smile often enough?’ I reply jokingly, even though I’m all too aware this is not what Finn means.
‘It’s my way of telling what I see when I look at you.’ He reaches out his hand and gently cups my cheek. ‘You’re very beautiful when you allow yourself to be.’
As Finn’s face moves slowly towards mine I’m not sure what I should do. I know what I want to do, but is that really the best thing for me or for him?
But I don’t have to worry because Trixie decides for us, suddenly letting out a loud whinny while stamping her hoof on the ground impatiently.
Finn grins. ‘She wants her brush and her food.’
‘You can’t blame her,’ I say, not knowing whether to be annoyed or grateful to Trixie. ‘She did do the work of two horses on that ride. Perhaps she should get the rewards of two.’
‘You’ll get what you’re given,’ Finn says, turning to Trixie. But he manages to find a treat in his pocket, which Trixie hungrily gobbles from the flat of his hand. ‘She’s probably right though, I should get her sorted before I head back to my cottage for a shower. Then of course I have work.’ He grimaces. ‘I wonder what delights and what even more delightful guests will await me today?’
‘Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure,’ I tell him. ‘I’d better be getting back too. I need to do the same – shower, then work.’
‘Still ploughing on with the house? Eddie’s tales haven’t put you off?’
‘No, why would they? All make believe, isn’t it.’