Cruel Winter: A County Cork Mystery

by Sheila Connolly

  “The main roads are fine, so long as you watch for ice. Let’s hope the temperature doesn’t drop.” He looked past her. “Ah, Gillian, I thought I’d find you here. We need to talk.”

  Gillian looked at his pinched face and stood up, “Of course. May we use the kitchen, Maura? I’m guessing it’s warmer than the back room.”

  “Sure, go ahead. Harry, is . . . ?” She didn’t want to finish the question: is Eveline gone? Maura had met her a time or two and had been impressed by the old woman, who was more open-minded than her staff, apparently.

  Harry nodded. “She is. It was an easy passing. Now I’ve a hundred things to do, but I need to talk to Gillian first, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go, both of you.”

  They disappeared into the kitchen. “That’s sad, even if we were expecting it,” Maura said to no one in particular.

  “She was a good woman,” Billy said softly. “We won’t see her like again.”

  “It’ll mean some changes to the village, yeh know,” Mick said.

  Maura felt a flash of annoyance. “No, I don’t know, because I haven’t thought about it. I know the place itself will be turned over to the National Trust. Is that what you’re talking about?”

  “Mostly. Depending on what’s done with it, it could bring in more tourists. They pass through here anyway, and if a historic manor house tempts them, they might stay on a bit, maybe stop in here at Sullivan’s.”

  “Mick, Eveline’s only just gone. I thought things moved slowly in Ireland. Are we going to see the National Trust sniffing around here this week?”

  Mick’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “I’d say that’s not likely, but it depends on what documents were drawn up, whenever that happened. Within the year, mebbe?”

  “Then we’ll deal with that when it happens,” Maura told him firmly. “And no, I’m not going to turn this into a Quainte Countrie Pub anytime soon, not just for tourists who may not show up.”

  “Nor would I expect yeh to. Just keep yer ears open, will yeh?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  Gillian and Harry emerged from the back room. Harry gave Gillian a quick kiss, nodded at the rest, and hurried out the front door, leaving Gillian behind. Maura went over to her and said in a low voice, “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. And no. I don’t know. Harry’s gone off to see Eveline’s solicitor and then arrange for her burial, so we might know more later. He thought it made more sense for me to stay here with you than to go with him or to go back to the house. But he surprised me with something I hadn’t expected.”

  “Are you going to tell us, or is it a big secret?” Maura asked.

  “I don’t think it’s a secret, just not settled quite yet.” Gillian raised her voice. “If you want to know what’s going on, you might as well gather ’round.” She waited while the others approached, although Diane stayed in the far corner. “As some of you may know, Eveline Townsend had use of the manor house for her lifetime, but now it reverts to the National Trust. Which means that Harry and I are out of a place to live, although the Trust won’t be taking over tomorrow—we don’t know exactly when, which is one reason Harry’s gone on to Skibbereen just now. But Eveline made Harry her heir in return for his looking out for her these past few years and helping to pay the bills. She didn’t own the house any more, but when that agreement was made, she specified certain items that were hers, and Harry will inherit those. So there’ll be some money coming to him. I knew that before. But it’s what he wants to do with it that I didn’t know.”

  “And that is?” Maura said impatiently.

  “He’s gone and made an offer on the old creamery by Ballinlough—there’ll be enough coming from Eveline to do that, or will when the estate is settled. He wants to fix it up so we can live there—there’s a nice house tucked behind the big building where I had my studio.”

  “That sounds like a great solution, Gillian,” Maura said. “You get to keep your painting space, and you’ll have a home for all of you.”

  The men made some happy noises and turned back to their conversations. Maura said to Gillian, in a lower voice, “It will be the three of you, won’t it?”

  Gillian nodded. “Yes, Harry’d live there too. And the baby, of course. But there’s a problem—Harry’s work’s in Dublin, so he’d be away much of the time or on the road.”

  “Don’t you like to spend time alone? To work, when you’re painting?”

  “I would have said yes, but with a baby . . . I don’t know what I think.”

  “Look, I’m no expert,” Maura began, “but Harry’s an accountant, right?”

  “Yes. But most of his clients are in Dublin.”

  “But can’t he do a lot of whatever he does on the computer? From here?”

  Gillian’s expression brightened just a bit. “You’re right. He’d have to go to Dublin only when he needed to meet face-to-face with clients. And maybe he could find clients in Cork city or somewhere closer—like Skibbereen. And there are all those rich people around Schull, right? Thank you—I’m just so rattled that I’m not thinking clearly. And it is a lovely spot.”

  “It’ll work out. And I’m guessing that Harry has actually put some thought into this—and wants to make you happy. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  Gillian gave Maura a watery smile. “Thank you, Maura. Maybe he’s finally decided to grow up.”

  Twenty-Three

  As opening time approached, a small cluster of men gathered outside the door, stamping their feet in what was left of the slush. Might as well let them in now, Maura reasoned. Sean wouldn’t be coming back any time soon to check if she was sticking to the legal schedule. She unlocked the door again and smiled. “Come on in, guys. You look cold.”

  Rosy-faced men trooped in and spread out around the room, which quickly filled with the scent of damp wool with a whiff of manure—cows needed to be milked no matter what the weather. They seemed less interested in a drink than in sharing battle—er, snow stories with each other. As the conversations went on, as she had guessed, the reported depth of the drifts out in the country grew deeper, until Maura wondered if even the house chimneys had been visible—and if that was true, how had all these men managed to arrive at the pub so fast?

  At some point, she realized that Diane had disappeared. Maura tracked her down in the kitchen, where she was using her mobile phone, and Diane said quickly, “I’ve been trying to find a flight out. I’m guessing there are a lot of stranded travelers, but I’ve found a seat at eight tonight.”

  So Diane was moving on with her life. Maura felt both disappointed and relieved. “I, uh, told Sean Murphy I wanted to talk to him when he had the time.”

  “That’s the young garda who stopped in?”

  “That’s him.”

  “Maura, you’ve done enough. You don’t need to bother him with this.” Diane changed the subject quickly. “You know, you’ve got quite a place here.”

  “What do you mean? The pub?” Maura asked.

  “Yes. From the outside, it looks like an ordinary village pub.”

  “That’s what it is,” Maura told her, confused.

  “Ah, but you’ve got an interesting mix of people here—almost like a stage play, don’t you know. Billy, there—he’s the wise old man or maybe the judge watching and handing out opinions. Rose is the young innocent, but I haven’t quite pegged her father Jimmy yet. Maybe he’s the official naysayer, the gadfly who makes comments only so that others will contradict him—he likes to stir things up. Gillian is the fallen woman, and people aren’t sure what they think about that in this modern day. Mick—now he’s the enigma, and if this were a play, he might come up with some interesting surprise in the third act. You know, he’d turn out to be a Russian spy or the missing king of Ruritania. And the rest of the crowd is the Greek chorus, the audience to our little drama.”

  Maura shook her head. “And what about me? Where do I fit?”

  “I’d say you represent justice. Or maybe tru
th—you can see clearly what others don’t. By the way, that young garda—Sean, is it?—he’s sweet on you, you know.”

  Maura sighed. Poor Sean—he wasn’t very good at hiding what he felt. “That’s what people keep telling me. I tell them I’m not ready to get involved with anybody right now—I’m still learning how to run the pub. I don’t have the time or energy to start anything with him right now.”

  “You must have an interesting story of your own, Maura—how you ended up here, and you so young. Too bad we don’t have time to talk more about it, but I know you have a business to run.”

  “I don’t think my story is half as interesting as yours, and yes, I’d better get back to doing my job. Just tell me when you’re leaving?”

  “I promise,” Diane said. “Maybe I’ll go explore the town—I’m tired of being shut up in here. If I can borrow a pair of boots?”

  Walking out of the kitchen, Maura said, “No problem. Mick, you mind if Diane borrows your boots for a short while?” When Mick nodded in assent, Maura stepped behind the bar and retrieved the waterproof boots, then handed them across to Diane. “Just watch your step—it’s probably slippery in spots.”

  “I’ll be careful, Maura. See you later!”

  More and more men kept straggling in, and each new arrival resulted in the repetition of the same stories. There was snow everywhere, no surprise. There was a tree blown down on a lane Maura didn’t recognize. Someone had heard on the radio that a ship had sunk outside the harbor. The power was coming back, but slowly and unevenly. At least nobody said any other storms were expected.

  Before noon, Maura sent Rose across to the hotel to beg for food, and she returned with a couple of bags of bread and cheese and some more apples. “Anne says all her rooms are filled, but we’ve most likely got more mouths to feed here. Just be sure to tell them where the food’s coming from.”

  “Can you do something with this stuff?”

  “I’ll go fire up the stove in back. Toasted cheese sandwiches coming up! And maybe an apple crumble—Anne gave me some sugar, and there’s still flour as well.”

  The next time Maura looked up from pulling pints, she saw a middle-aged woman charge in the front door. It was hard to see what she really looked like since she was bundled up from head to toe in a knitted cap, quilted puffy coat, and fur-lined boots. She made a beeline for Jimmy, who was talking to a couple of men in the far corner. “Ah, Jimmy my love, there you are! I was worried sick that something had happened to you. Where’s Rosie?”

  “Hullo, Judith,” Jimmy greeted her with lukewarm enthusiasm. “Rose’s in the back makin’ some food fer us all. Yeh didn’t have to worry.”

  “You might’ve called, at least.”

  “Me phone died,” Jimmy said. Which Maura suspected was not true but provided a handy excuse.

  “Well, no mind, if all’s well.” The woman looked around the room. “Seems like yer doin’ good business today.” She spotted Maura watching the exchange. “Aren’t yeh goin’ ta introduce me, Jimmy? This young woman would be yer boss, then?”

  Jimmy did not look happy, but he brought the woman over to the bar. “Maura Donovan, meet Judith.”

  The woman peeled off her gloves and extended a hand for Maura to shake. “It’s grand to meet yeh, Maura. I’m Judith McCarthy. Looks like you’ve made a go of this place. Is Jimmy here behavin’ himself?” Out of the corner of her eye, Maura saw Jimmy wince.

  “Nice to meet you, Judith. I haven’t seen you in here before, have I?”

  “Nah, Jimmy keeps me under wraps. I’m livin’ nearer to Drinagh, but I’m not one fer the pubs meself, and if I’m lookin’ fer a pint, I’ll go to the Gaelic Bar up there. I’m a workin’ woman, like you. Only I’ve got cows to manage, rather than this lot.” She waved at the small group of men in the room, and a few returned the greeting.

  “Well, I’m glad you came by.” Even if Jimmy wasn’t. “How’re the roads?”

  “The Drinagh road’s clear, but not the side roads so much. Yer up at Knockskagh, Maura?”

  “I am. But I haven’t seen snow around here before, so I don’t know what the driving is like.”

  “The bog road will be fine, I’d wager, but yer hill—now that’s another matter.”

  “That’s kind of what I guessed. Can I get you anything?”

  “A coffee would be grand. Then mebbe I should see if Rosie needs some help in the back. Jimmy never mentioned a kitchen.”

  “Probably because nobody’s used it in years. But it came in handy last night, and Rose was the one who got it working.” Maura poured a mug of coffee and slid it across to Judith.

  “She’s a sharp girl, she is. I keep tellin’ her she should go to uni, do somethin’ with herself.”

  “I agree with you.”

  Rose emerged from the back with a platter of sandwiches, golden brown on the outside and oozing cheese. “Take yer time, lads—there’s more where these came from.” Rose set the platter on the end of the bar. “Hi, Judith.” Rose looked happier to see the woman than Jimmy had.

  The men in the room were surprisingly polite as they lined up to help themselves, and the sandwiches disappeared quickly.

  “Can I help yeh with those, Rose?” Judith asked.

  “Sure, come on back. There’s another batch cookin’.”

  Maura waited until Judith and Rose had gone back to the kitchen before turning to Jimmy. “So, Jimmy, anything you want to share?” she asked, smiling.

  Jimmy muttered something under his breath. “That’s Judith. She’s decided we’re a couple, and she’s enlisted me own daughter to convince me.”

  “Looks like Rose is okay with that. And Judith seems like an impressive woman with a farm of her own. Congratulations, Jimmy.” Maybe he wouldn’t need to steal any more oil now.

  “I’m told she’s got a nice piece of land and a strong herd,” somebody called out. Jimmy managed to look both pleased and pained at the same time.

  Maura ducked out from behind the bar before Jimmy commented, and she waded through the crowd over to where Gillian sat. She dropped into a chair. “You okay? Want a sandwich?”

  Gillian nodded. “Just thinking. And I’m famished. Billy could use one too.”

  “I’ll snag a couple from the next batch. This is kind of a busy place to think,” Maura commented.

  “It’s fine. Better than too quiet, with all these thoughts banging around my head. Like you said, if we bought the creamery and cleaned it up, I’d have a studio, and I could give classes there.”

  So Gillian was taking Harry’s idea seriously. “That could work,” Maura agreed cautiously.

  “And I could keep the baby close by, maybe with a childminder some of the time.”

  “You could.”

  “It’s a lovely site.”

  “It is.”

  Gillian laughed. “Ah, Maura, you’re no help at all.”

  “What, you want me to tell you it’s a bad idea? I don’t think it is. You know the place—you’d have a place to work with good space and light, and it’s easy to get to for students. I’ll give extra points to Harry for coming up with the idea. Of course, there’s probably a lot of work to be done to the place before you can live in it, and you wouldn’t be able to help much for a while, and I don’t know how handy Harry is, him being an accountant and not a carpenter . . .”

  “That’s more like it—poking holes in the idea,” Gillian said. “You’ve been practicing your bartending.”

  “You mean supporting whatever opinion seems to be popular? Did I have a choice if I wanted to make this place work?”

  “Now that you’ve given me both sides, what do you really think?”

  Maura faced her squarely. “First, I’ll tell you that I’d be happy if you stayed around—for selfish reasons. I don’t have a lot of women friends, as you might have seen, and I don’t want you to go away. Second, if Harry’s really on board with the whole idea, and he follows through, that tells you something about how he feels about you. So I g
uess I’m saying you should go for it. If you need guys to help with the construction part, you could probably get out the word here at Sullivan’s and find plenty.”

  Gillian smiled. “Thank you. If it weren’t so hard to stand up from this chair in my condition, I’d hug you. Of course, I still have to talk to Harry, but I guess I’d say I’m leaning toward agreeing with you.”

  “Good.” Maura looked around to see who could overhear, but no one was paying attention to them. “What do you think of Judith?”

  “Based on the two minutes I’ve seen of her from over here? I think she’d do Jimmy a world of good, and it would free up Rose, wouldn’t it?”

  “My thoughts exactly. Any other problems you want to fix, while we’re at it? Global warming? World peace?”

  “Let’s stop while we’re ahead, shall we?”

  Twenty-Four

  Judith emerged from the kitchen bearing another plate loaded with hot sandwiches. Rose followed behind her. Maura nodded at Gillian, then went up to Rose and said quietly, “Make sure Gillian and Billy get some, will you?”

  “Of course. What’s Gillian thinkin’ about the old creamery and all?”

  “I think she likes the idea. And I’m glad Harry came up with the plan. Judith’s really something, isn’t she?”

  “She is that. I call her a force of nature. Da doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Judith returned to the bar. “We make a good team, do we not, Rosie?”

  “We do. I’ll go wash up.”

  Judith leaned against the bar, scanning the room. She spotted Joe Minahane seated in the dark corner next to the fireplace. “Well, if it isn’t my neighbor, Joe! What’re yeh doin’ here, and who’s lookin’ after the herd?”

  Joe stood up—a touch reluctantly, to Maura’s eye—and came over to the bar. “I was doing me bit as a good Samaritan, rescuing a stranded traveler—that’d be him over there. Bart Hayes from near Limerick, he tells me. Went off the road near the farm with a bunch of drunken lads after a weddin’ in Rosscarbery, who were all but useless, and I couldn’t see getting’ him out of the ditch in the snow with or without their help. The snow was comin’ so fast, I didn’t think I’d make it to Skib, so I came here.”