by Ali McNamara
Finn shrugs. ‘No smoke without fire.’
‘You don’t believe all that nonsense, surely?’
‘No, but I do trust Father Duffy, and if he says there’s truth in these tales, then I think there might be something to them.’
‘Well, I’m going to ask him about it tonight at the quiz, and see what he’s got to say for himself.’
‘Good luck getting anything out of him when he’s in competition mode,’ Finn smiles. ‘I’ve never met such a competitive priest. When you said you had good general knowledge the other day, his eyes lit up. He’s always looking to recruit new members to the quiz team.’
‘Even if it is only for one night.’
I notice Finn’s amused expression diminish slightly.
‘Yeah, shame about that . . . Anyway, if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you tonight at the quiz, yes?’
‘Yes. Have a good day, Finn, and thank you for rescuing me today.’
‘No worries. Just think of me as your knight in shining armour!’ His eyes twinkle in the bright morning sunshine that has decided to make an appearance at last. ‘And don’t stress about that house too much, yeah? Everything will sort itself out when it’s good and ready. It always does.’
‘Perhaps.’ I shrug, not quite so convinced. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Finn leads Trixie away, while I turn and head back to the hotel, allowing the very pleasant thoughts of Finn as a handsome knight on horseback and me as his damsel in distress to fill my mind as I walk.
Twenty-Four
When Kiki and I walk into the same pub we’d visited only a few nights previously, I’m amazed at how different it looks.
Instead of tables set up to receive drinkers, and people looking to have a quick bite to eat, we find everything rearranged in honour of this evening’s quiz night. Many of the tables have been spread out on to the open floor where Kiki had danced in front of the band, and instead of an area set up for music with amplifiers and microphones, there is now a long table with three chairs set formally behind it for tonight’s quizmaster and scorers.
A few of the tables are occupied by people I don’t recognise, but towards the back I spot Father Duffy already set up with a pint of Guinness waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. He waves when he sees me.
‘Shall I get the drinks in?’ Kiki asks, heading to the bar. ‘Usual, Ren?’
‘Actually no, I’ll have a Guinness, please.’
Kiki turns back, her eyebrows raised. ‘Finn really is having an effect on you, isn’t he?’
I roll my eyes, determined not to dignify her jibe with a reply. But Kiki just grins and skips up to the bar, where as usual she gets served straight away. A skill I’m always envious of.
I head over towards Father Duffy, weaving my way through the tables to get to him. There are white pieces of card in the centre of most of the tables declaring team names. I read some of them as I pass, and I begin to appreciate how much this quiz night brings the local community together, even if it is in intense rivalry.
‘Good evening, young lady,’ Father Duffy says, standing up to greet me. ‘I’m so pleased you could make it.’
‘Good evening, Father. Are you sure it will be all right, me taking part?’ I ask anxiously, pulling out a chair. ‘Everyone else seems to be local. I’m only a visitor.’
Father Duffy waves away my objection good-naturedly. ‘All the teams try to pull in ringers when they can,’ he says, looking suspiciously around the other tables. ‘It’s part of the fun. We’re lucky, being a hotel team we often have quite a large pool to choose from.’
‘And there was me, thinking I was special,’ I say jokily.
‘Oh, but you are, Ren,’ Father Duffy says solemnly. ‘You’re special in many ways, and I don’t just mean for the quiz team. I knew it the moment we first met.’
I smile hesitantly at Father Duffy. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean?’
‘And I wouldn’t expect you to, my dear.’ He takes a quick drink from his glass. ‘You said this was your first visit to Ballykiltara, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought so. Tell me, have you had any strange feelings since you’ve been here? Feelings you can’t attribute to anything in particular?’
‘It’s funny you should ask that, because actually I have,’ I tell him, surprised by his question.
‘Do you feel that you know this place, that it’s familiar?’
I think for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose it is a bit like that.’
‘Do you feel you’ve been here before, Ren?’ he asks, looking gravely at me.
‘Well, like I said, it’s familiar, but I’m not sure—’
‘Where do you come from, Ren?’ Father Duffy asks. ‘I mean, where do you hail from originally.’
‘Northumberland, not far from Bamburgh.’
‘Ah, Northumberland,’ Father Duffy says fondly. ‘Another area strong in its Celtic roots and traditions. Many a monk travelled from Northumberland to Ireland in the past – some of their own volition, some fled when the Norsemen came calling.’
‘Yes, I knew that.’
‘Naturally – I’d expect no less of a sharp, enquiring mind like yours, Ren. But I suspect you know facts, not feelings.’
‘How do you mean?’
Father Duffy watches me thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Have you ever tried letting your feelings guide you, Ren?’ he asks. ‘Instead of your head.’
‘Yes. Of course I have,’ I answer quickly.
‘And what happened?’ Father Duffy asks just as swiftly.
‘I got hurt,’ I tell him before I have time to think about it.
He nods knowingly. ‘I thought so. But you know your heart can tell you so much more than your head ever can.’
I’m annoyed at myself for telling him as much as I have already. ‘Perhaps.’
‘It can, you know. While you’re here, Ren, I think it would be a good idea to let your heart rule your actions occasionally, rather than your head. You may find you discover many, many things you didn’t know.’
‘Such as?’
Father Duffy smiles enigmatically. ‘Why don’t you try it and see what happens? I’ve a feeling you might like what you find.’
I’m about to ask him how using my heart rather than my head to make decisions will help with anything when Finn and Donal arrive at the table.
‘Good evening,’ Finn says, smiling at me, and then Father Duffy. ‘I see you made it then, Ren.’
I smile warmly. ‘Yes, I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Can I get you both a drink?’ he asks.
‘I’m grand,’ Father Duffy says, holding up his glass.
‘I think Kiki is supposed to be getting mine,’ I say, looking towards the bar. ‘She’s been a while though.’
‘I think she was on her way over when we arrived,’ Finn says. ‘But she’s been distracted by Eddie.’
I roll my eyes. ‘I should have known!’
‘Guinness?’ Finn asks.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Orange juice for you, Donal?’
‘Oh yes, I never drink alcohol on a quiz night,’ Donal says, slipping into one of the chairs positioned around the table.
Finn rolls his eyes behind Donal’s back. ‘Back in a mo’.’
I watch Finn walk across to the bar, then I turn my attention to the two men sitting at the table with me.
‘How’s the book research coming along?’ Donal asks, fiddling awkwardly with one of the beer mats from the table.
‘Er . . . yes, quite well, thank you,’ I lie, glancing self-consciously at Father Duffy. ‘I’ve made a fair bit of progress recently,’ I add, a little more truthfully.
‘Good. Good. You know, if you need any help, I’m always here,’ Donal offers.
‘Donal is quite the font of knowledge on all things local,’ Father Duffy says, nodding at him. ‘Aren’t you, Donal?’
‘I like to think I know a fair bit about t
he area I come from, yes. In fact, I like to think I have quite a broad knowledge of all things. I guess that’s why you have me on the team, Father.’ Donal folds his hands neatly in his lap while he smiles at his own joke.
‘You’re on the team because I can’t get rid of you,’ Father Duffy says, winking at me. ‘I’ve tried, but you keep turning up.’
Donal looks with dismay at Father Duffy.
‘I’m kidding, Donal,’ the priest replies. ‘We are allowed to do that, you know.’
Donal nods hurriedly. ‘Of course, Father.’
‘The truth is,’ Father Duffy explains for my benefit, ‘Donal is a walking encyclopaedia – there’s no one better for historical facts, that’s for sure.’
‘Do you all have your own specialist subjects then?’ I ask.
Father Duffy thinks about this. ‘I suppose we do, to an extent. Donal is our history buff, he also knows a lot about literature. I usually take music and geography. Finn – sports and anything mathematical. Orla is our popular culture expert. Ciaran is very good with food and drink. And you, Ren, will hopefully cover anything we don’t know!’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I tell him.
‘Drinks!’ Finn announces, arriving with three drinks carefully balanced in his two hands. ‘Juice for you, Donal, a pint of the black stuff for Ren, and a lemonade for me.’ He places our drinks down in front of us, then slips into the seat next to me.
I wonder why Finn isn’t drinking again. In fact, come to think of it, I’ve never seen him take alcohol at all.
‘Did you know Ren had never had Guinness before she came here, Father?’ Finn says, taking a sip from his glass of lemonade. ‘We’ve corrupted her.’
‘I had tasted it, I’d just never enjoyed it before,’ I correct him. ‘It wasn’t the kind of drink I’d usually choose.’
Father Duffy looks between us, and smiles. ‘Your head ruling your heart, by any chance?’
‘Ha, possibly,’ I reply, smiling at him.
Finn looks between the priest and me with a curious expression.
Father Duffy glances at his watch. ‘Orla and Ciaran are running a little late, aren’t they?’ he says, looking up towards the door of the pub.
‘Ciaran is at the bar, I just saw him,’ Finn says, sounding unconcerned. ‘And Orla will make it on time – she usually does.’
‘I hope so.’ Father Duffy looks concerned. ‘We don’t want to have to forfeit now we have Ren onside.’
‘How many players do you need then?’ I ask. ‘Six?’
‘The rules state a minimum of six, a maximum of eight,’ Donal replies. ‘Two thirds of whom have to be regular team members.’
‘Do you often have hotel guests join in?’
‘Not usually,’ Finn says. ‘Only if we find out they’re handy with the old general knowledge.’ He winks. ‘Usually we make up the team with another member of staff, or someone from the town.’
‘I see.’ I look around the table. ‘So who’s running the hotel tonight with you lot here and Eddie at the bar? Won’t it fall apart?’
‘The joys of delegation!’ Finn says, happily lifting his glass. ‘Seriously though, everything will be fine back at base. I’ve got a great team.’
Ciaran comes over to join us. ‘Just got a text from Orla,’ he says, holding up his phone. ‘She won’t be able to make it tonight.’ He glances nervously at Father Duffy. ‘Ladies’ problems, apparently,’ he whispers.
‘No need to hide it from me, Ciaran. I may be a priest, but I do understand how a lady’s body works.’
I smile down into my drink.
‘However,’ Father Duffy continues, ‘that does leave us with a slight problem. Who are we going to get to replace her, with . . . ’ he looks at his watch, ‘minutes to go?’
‘Ren, I’m so sorry!’ I hear Kiki call as she approaches our table with Eddie in tow. ‘I got caught up with Eddie and forgot about your drink. Eddie’s had your Guinness now – shall I get you another?’
‘Kiki,’ I say, smiling up at her, ‘how’s your knowledge of popular culture?’
‘My what?’ Kiki asks, looking puzzled.
‘How much do you know about the inside of Hello! and OK magazines?’ Finn asks, immediately getting where I’m going with this.
‘Finn,’ Kiki says, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. ‘That is my surrealist subject!’
‘She means specialist,’ I quickly inform the others as they stare up at Kiki with puzzled looks. ‘Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet your newest team member and expert on popular culture, Miss Kiki Fisher.’
Twenty-Five
Quiz night turns out to be a very enjoyable evening.
After I roped Kiki in as the newest member of the team, Eddie decided he might as well join in too, since that only took our team members to seven.
Apparently this is a real coup because Eddie never joins in with the quizzes, preferring, as he describes it, ‘to support from the sidelines’ – or as Finn put it, ‘from the bar’.
As the evening wears on, I’m amazed at how good everyone’s general knowledge is. I’d thought mine was pretty good, but I find myself lacking on many questions that some of the others seem to find easy.
As Father Duffy had said, everyone has their own specialist subjects they excel at. Donal’s knowledge of history – Irish history in particular – is outstanding. Not knowing much about sport, I find myself in awe of the way Finn rattles off the answers to that round. It’s clear he knows everything there is to know about horse racing.
I’m pleased when I get the chance to keep up with the others and answer some questions myself – there’s a round about London, in which to our absolute delight, Kiki and I know every answer.
I’ve not had much time during the quiz to keep an eye out for our mystery letter writer, but even if I had, the pub is packed this evening with people supporting their teams, drinking and enjoying themselves, so it would be nigh on impossible to spot someone based on the little I know.
‘Last round!’ our quizmaster calls as we huddle around the table waiting for our next challenge. ‘And it’s everyone’s favourite – Popular Culture!’
There are groans beside me from all but Kiki, who excitedly claps her hands.
‘Question one,’ Seamus our quizmaster begins. ‘Who played the Wicked Witch of the West in the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz?’
We all look at Kiki, who shrugs nervously.
‘Does anyone know?’ Father Duffy asks. ‘I know Judy Garland was Dorothy.’
‘It’s Margaret Hamilton,’ Eddie pipes up. ‘What?’ he asks when everyone turns to him in amazement; he’s been quiet through the rest of the evening. ‘Me mam used to make me watch all them movies when I was a lil’un. Stuff sticks.’
‘I think that’s right,’ I agree. ‘She sounds familiar.’
‘Well done, Eddie,’ Kiki praises, kissing his cheek.
Eddie flushes.
‘Question two,’ Seamus asks from his table at the front, ‘is a two-parter, so one point for each correct answer. In the TV soap EastEnders, what is the name firstly of the pub, and secondly of the square in which it stands? I think I’m allowed to give you a little clue here – they’re related to each other.’
‘Oh lord,’ Finn says, rolling his eyes. ‘I don’t watch Irish soaps, let alone British ones.’
Kiki and I look smugly at each other. Back home, we would quite often have a gossip in the office about any antics in the square the night before. ‘I think you’ll find the answer is,’ I say confidently. ‘Kiki?’ I hold out my hand.
‘The Queen Victoria, and Albert Square,’ she says with glee.
Donal, who’s been put in charge of recording our answers, hurriedly notes them down on our sheet.
‘I’m glad you girls are here,’ Father Duffy says, patting my hand. ‘I don’t think any of us would have known that.’
‘Me ma watches it,’ Eddie says, ‘but I steer well clear when it’s on.’
‘Questi
on three,’ Seamus calls. ‘Which popular singer released a live DVD called Jumpers for Goalposts and a studio album called X.’
‘Ooh ooh!’ Kiki says, waving her hand in the air. ‘Ed Sheeran,’ she whispers to Donal. ‘He’s one of my faves, he is.’
Donal looks around the table. Eddie and I both nod, so he scribbles it down.
‘This quiz gets better and better!’ Kiki grins happily.
‘Question four – our penultimate question tonight. Irish actor Andrew Scott plays Moriarty in the successful TV series Sherlock, but can you name the two female characters who regularly appear in the show?’
‘I have to admit this is one that has passed me by,’ Father Duffy says, looking around the table. ‘Anyone know?’
‘Mrs Hudson is one,’ I say, trying desperately to think of the other. ‘Una Stubbs plays her.’
‘Molly,’ Donal says to my surprise. ‘Molly Hooper. I like a bit of Sherlock – tests the old grey matter, so it does, trying to figure everything out before he does.’
I watch Donal as he writes our answers down, and I notice for the first time how ornate his handwriting is. Ornate and florid, like his speech . . .
‘So, to our final question,’ Seamus announces before I have time to think further about this, ‘and we go a bit more up to date with our movies this time. In the Hangover movies, the Wolfpack had a gangster adversary and sometimes friend who appeared in all three films with them, what was his name?’
‘Mr Chow!’ Kiki, Finn, Eddie and I all hiss at the same time, while Donal and Father Duffy look blank.
‘Looks like we have the definitive answer, Donal,’ Father Duffy says, smiling at us. ‘Well done, all of you.’
I take another quick glance at Donal’s handwriting before he whisks our answers up to the desk to be marked. It’s certainly formal, and almost calligraphic in the way he adds flourishes and swirls to his letters. A person who writes like that and speaks like Donal would certainly be able to turn out a letter like the one Sarah received. Could he be our man?
While the others sit and chat about the quiz and the questions we did and didn’t answer, I sit thinking about Donal. He’s tall – so he fits Eddie’s description. I wouldn’t call him broad, but maybe he’d been wearing a coat when Eddie saw him. Yes, one of those puffa jackets would make him seem a lot bigger from a distance.