‘Anna,’ he whispered softly, his breath on her hair as he took her hand. They kissed long and slow, again and again, as the seabirds wheeled around the old lighthouse and the sea breeze clipped the ocean.
‘We should go,’ he said a long while later.
She followed him out, watching as he locked the heavy door, Tippy racing ahead of them towards his Land Rover.
‘There’s a great little pub about five miles down the road if you fancy something to eat,’ he suggested. ‘Best seafood and steak outside Roundstone.’
She laughed. ‘That sounds good.’
O’Flaherty’s was quiet, with only two families and about five other people eating, and a few locals sitting up on barstools chatting. They found a table near the fireplace; a log and turf fire smouldered in the grate.
Anna suddenly realized how hungry she was when she read the menu: prawns, crab, lobster, scallops, served with baked or gratin potato. She opted for the prawns tossed in lemon butter and baked potato and salad, while Rob ordered a plate of fish cakes. She had a glass of wine while he ordered a pint.
‘The lighthouse is amazing, Rob, thanks for letting me see inside it.’
‘When the place is done up it will be pretty special,’ he admitted. ‘I’m hoping to rent it out to holidaymakers, the kind of people who just want to come to the West and get away from it all, be close to nature. I’ve also applied for permission to build two or three small coastguard cottages on the other side of the field.’
‘That’s great.’
‘It’s funny,’ he mused. ‘When I was younger I couldn’t wait to get away from Connemara, away from the place and the parish and all the neighbours who know me and my cousins and relations. I didn’t think the place had anything to offer.’
‘The back of beyond.’
‘But since I’ve come back I’ve put down roots here and I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else. I can see how it has a hold on people.’
‘My granny said “the West” put a spell on her,’ remembered Anna.
The food was good, O’Flaherty’s deserved its fine reputation. Rob ordered a brown-bread ice cream for dessert and Anna managed to steal a spoonful of it.
They sat and chatted for an hour or two, deciding to move when the bar got crowded and people were standing waiting for tables.
The road was dark as they drove through winding country lanes, Anna stealing a glance at Rob’s expression, Tippy half-asleep on her lap. As they came near the town he slowed down.
‘The schoolhouse or the cottage?’ he asked softly.
Anna looked across at him. He was kind and old-fashioned and good and every ounce of instinct in her soul was saying ‘Follow him’. It made no sense but she knew in her heart that she didn’t want to waste any more time, not one more day of being apart, not one more night of not being with him.
‘Your place,’ she said, reaching for his hand.
From that night on Anna spent the vast part of her time with Rob, both of them equally surprised by the intensity of their feelings. Anna had never known anything like this before and had nothing to compare it with. Rob was so different from any other guy she had been with before and made her feel like she belonged here with him. How could she go back to Dublin, leave this place, the sea, the beach, the dog (who followed her like a shadow) and Rob?
‘You know I have to get back to work,’ she said, curled up beside Rob on the couch. ‘My students have exams and I have to set papers – I can do marking and corrections up here later but I’ve got to be in Dublin for a while.’
‘It’s OK, Anna,’ he teased, ruffling her hair which had gone beyond curly. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be here, OK?’
She took a breath. It was almost like a dream, a mirage, to have Rob waiting for her. She felt taut and nervous inside that something would go wrong, something would happen to ruin it but Rob reassured her, pulling her across on to his lap and holding her close, kissing the fear away.
Chapter Thirty-three
Sarah’s feet were killing her. She’d been working since eleven o’clock this morning helping Cora cater for a large funeral lunch party in a private home in Blackrock. Cooked wild salmon, baked ham and creamy chicken in white wine sauce had been served to the guests and the family had been very kind and had tipped her generously as she helped tidy up afterwards and pack things away. Standing at the bus stop on Mount Merrion Avenue waiting for the number 5 she immediately recognized the large black Range Rover pulling over to offer her a lift.
‘Sarah, can I drop you somewhere?’ Mark McGuiness asked, rolling down the windows.
‘Oh, thanks, Mark,’ she sighed as he opened the car door. ‘I’m on my way home from work. This bus here isn’t the best, so thanks a lot.’
‘How did your party go?’ he asked turning towards her.
‘Party?’
‘Your daughter’s,’ he reminded her. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it but I was away in Germany that weekend.’
‘It’s OK, I got your message. The party was great. They all dressed up as fairies and had a picnic in the garden.’
‘Sounds like a lot of fun; kids’ birthday parties are the days you always remember,’ he said. ‘And Evie’s a nice kid. She’s a credit to you,’ he added.
‘Thanks,’ said Sarah, watching his profile as he drove. She slipped off her shoes.
‘That’s a relief,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve been on my feet for hours at the lunch I was working at.’
‘I thought you said you had a job at Evie’s school?’
‘I do three mornings a week but today I was working at a funeral lunch; my friend Cora was catering. We just served lunch to over a hundred people. I work there sometimes at the weekends and when they have extra functions on.’
‘You sure keep yourself busy, Sarah,’ he said admiringly, glancing in her direction.
He is definitely rather dishy, Sarah thought to herself, in that mature smooth kind of way.
‘How’s your sister?’ he enquired as they stopped at the traffic lights.
‘I’ve two,’ she reminded him. ‘Anna’s off working on some poetry thing in Connemara and Grace is an architect.’
‘I think that somehow that did come up in our rather heated conversation.’ He laughed.
‘Poor Grace. She just broke up with this awful creep she worked with. We are all mightily relieved as none of us liked him. Of course now she is burying herself in work.’
‘Hard work never killed anyone,’ he said as they turned in the direction of Pleasant Square.
They chatted easily about the neighbourhood as they drove. Mark McGuinness mightn’t be her type of guy, Sarah thought, but he was sound and despite Grace’s opinion of him, she liked him and was glad he was moving in opposite them.
‘Mark, thanks for the lift,’ she said, slipping her shoes back on as she got out of the car.
‘Was that Mark McGuinness I saw dropping you off?’ her mother asked as she relieved her from babysitting Evie. Honestly, her mum was such a curiosity box.
‘Yes, it was Mark and I’d probably be still standing waiting at the bus stop in Blackrock otherwise.’
‘Do you like him, Sarah?’
‘Mum, you’re obsessed. Will you stop it! He’s just our new neighbour and he gave me a lift and it’s no big deal.’
After tea when she had bathed Evie and changed her into her pyjamas, Sarah went into her bedroom to have a root around her wardrobe, which consisted mostly of denim jeans in various hues, lengths, widths and styles. Her best friend Karen had invited her to a dinner party on Saturday and she wanted to make a good impression. Karen would kill her if she turned up in jeans. She lifted out the multicoloured Zara skirt she usually wore with a black string top; it suddenly looked too old and worn for a stylish dinner party. The same went for her wrap-around blue dress and the silk print dress she’d bought in the sales.
‘What are you doing, Mummy?’ asked Evie, standing in the doorway watching her.
‘
I’m trying to find something nice to wear for Saturday night when I go to dinner at Karen and Mick’s house. It’s going to be kind of fancy there.’
Evie stayed ominously silent. Then: ‘Auntie Grace has nice clothes, fancy ones.’
Out of the mouth of babes and innocents, thought Sarah, getting the message.
‘Take what you want!’ offered Grace, throwing open the doors of her massive walk-in wardrobe with its huge amount of hanging space, and racks and pullout drawers of tops and knits and belts and wraps. She sat on the bed to watch. ‘There’s a few Karen Millens that might fit and that lovely corset thing I got in Rococo that goes with that flouncy skirt.’
Sarah slowly went through the rack of expensive designer clothes hanging in her sister’s wardrobe: Chanel, Stella McCartney, Chloé. Grace must have spent a fortune on them.
Some of the things swamped her as she wasn’t as tall as Grace, even though her figure was curvier and far less toned.
‘What about this?’ suggested Grace pulling a chiffon wrap-around top and matching skirt from a padded hanger. ‘I bought it in Paris.’
Sarah held it up. The grey-blue colour certainly suited her, even with her blond hair, and she quickly pulled it on. The V neckline showed off the curves of her breasts and made her neck appear longer.
‘Wow,’ said Grace. ‘It never looked that good on me.’
‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ Sarah was hesitant. Dressing up and looking sexy and attractive was something she hadn’t done for a very long time.
‘Nice strappy shoes with a high heel and tanned legs and you can’t go wrong.’
Sarah twirled around studying herself in the mirror. She looked and felt good, something that didn’t happen very often these days.
‘You look lovely, Sarah, honest,’ said Grace sincerely.
Sarah couldn’t believe that Grace was actually going to lend her something. When they were younger she used to scream at Anna and herself if they so much as took a pair of socks or a T-shirt from her room. There had been battles over make-up and cotton-wool puffs and mascara and nail varnish. She was sure the Lynches next door must have thought that they were a crazy family with all the shouting and screaming and banging of doors that went on. She supposed this meant they were finally grown up and that Grace was being the big sister helping her get ready for the special occasion.
‘How are you getting to Karen’s house tomorrow?’
‘I’ll get a bus or take a taxi.’
‘No you won’t. I’ll drop you,’ insisted her bossy big sister. ‘I said I’d call into Roisin tomorrow night and I can drop you en route.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sarah, overwhelmed with gratitude.
Evie had studied her getting dressed and blow-drying her hair and putting on her make-up, her face serious as she took in the rituals of preparation for a big night out.
Sarah added a last coat of mascara to her eyelashes. Combined with the silver-grey powder and the slightly mauve-tinted eye-shadow she’d found at the bottom of her make-up box she had managed to make her eyes look huge. She grabbed a spray of perfume, realizing as she stood up that she felt just right.
‘You look beautiful, Mummy,’ affirmed her daughter, hugging her tight.
‘Oh, Sarah, you are such a stunner,’ declared her mother loyally. ‘You look amazing.’
Despite their obvious bias Sarah was delighted with the results of her efforts.
Evie was going to sleep at her mum’s for the night and there’d be treats and drinks and a big bedtime story. Was it any wonder Evie loved staying with Granny so much!
Sarah took a deep breath as she sat in Grace’s car. It was stupid but she felt nervous. Karen was one of her oldest friends. They’d been to school together and when Karen had got married two years ago, she’d insisted on Sarah being one of her bridesmaids. Her husband Mick was a great guy and they were one of the nicest couples you could ever meet. Going to their dinner party was going to be fun and she was an absolute nerd to be anxious about it.
‘You look fabulous!’ coaxed Grace as they turned into Sycamore Road and she dropped her outside the white house. ‘Have a lovely time!’
‘Sarah, it’s so great to see you,’ Karen welcomed her, her wavy dark hair pinned up, wearing a clingy black dress with showed off her narrow waist and tiny bump.
‘I got you some wine and choccies,’ said Sarah, giving her a hug.
‘My favourites! Chocolate-covered walnuts and almonds; I’ll be the size of an elephant before this baby’s born at the rate I’m going.’
‘You’d hardly know you were pregnant!’
‘Tell Mick that! I chucked up all over his car last Saturday on the way home from a party and I hadn’t had even a sniff of alcohol.’
‘Poor you!’ Sarah consoled her. ‘When I was expecting Evie I was fine except for whenever I got the smell of frying. I couldn’t walk past a chipper.’
‘But they’re worth it!’
‘Definitely.’
‘Come on into the living room. I want to introduce you to a few people. Rachel and her boyfriend Don are here and Mick’s cousin Ronan Dempsey is home from London for a few days.’
Sarah braced herself as Karen ensured she got to meet everyone and Mick offered her a glass of sparkling cava to start the night.
Rachel Donovan was another schoolfriend and they greeted each other enthusiastically.
‘I haven’t seen you since Karen’s wedding!’ She smiled, introducing her boyfriend. ‘How is everything going?’
‘Well, Evie started school and I’m still working at a few things. I’ve got a part-time job teaching art and helping in the school library three days a week which is handy.’
‘That’s great,’ said Rachel kindly.
‘What about you?’
‘I’m still breaking my butt in Goodbody’s.’
‘That’s where we met,’ interrupted Don. ‘Rachel’s been promoted to senior specialist in aircraft and rail leasing and I handle shipping and satellites.’
‘It sounds fancy,’ admitted her friend, ‘but it just means much bigger contracts!’
Sarah felt a pang of guilt that she wasn’t doing something more interesting but being a mother was as much as she could handle.
There was another couple, the husband Brian worked with Mick and his wife. Chloe was a tiny dark-haired girl who wasn’t particularly friendly. She worked as a media buyer in one of the big advertising agencies.
After two more drinks they all sat down at a large oak table with dark brown leather chairs. Karen served a salmon mousse for starters. Sarah was sitting beside Mick’s cousin and a friend of Karen’s called Susan; next to her was a guy called Sean who was about six foot tall and had red hair. She sipped at another glass of wine as the conversation ebbed and flowed around her. Chloe who was sitting across from her literally ignored her. There was a delicious beef encrusted with mustard and herbs, gratin potatoes and baby carrots for the main course and Sarah congratulated Karen on her prowess in cooking.
‘It’s one of my mum’s recipes,’ she confessed, ‘a family favourite.’
The talk turned to politics and Sarah wished desperately that she had made time to read the political section of the Irish Times more closely and had kept abreast of current affairs: American foreign policy; Democrats versus Republicans; was Ireland closer in tune to Washington or Brussels . . .
‘Sarah, what do you think?’ asked Ronan, good-naturedly trying to draw her into the conversation.
She could feel the skin on her neck redden and she wished she could think of something to say. ‘Obviously, when you have a child, it colours everything,’ she admitted, looking around the table. ‘Concern for the environment and healthcare and support for single parents seems better in the EU; also the fact that we have good free education and great support for kids to go to college here means Ireland is very different from America.’ She could see Karen nodding in agreement with her. ‘I suppose I want Evie to have the best and living here in Ireland gives
her better opportunities than she might have anywhere else. Being a single parent is tough enough even at the best of times but one thing all parents, married or single, want is for their children to be happy and safe.’
‘Exactly.’ Karen laughed. ‘And I want all those lovely EU maternity and parental leave days due to me when junior appears!’
‘Hear, hear!’ they all agreed as Mick opened another bottle of wine and topped up everyone’s glass.
‘But our government must put in place policies that will protect our resources and cut back on energy usage like the rest of the EU,’ insisted Sean. ‘Buying credits for emissions from other countries with less productive economies than ours is hardly the way to go.’
‘Exactly,’ agreed Susan and Mick.
‘Hopefully the future will bring new forms of energy, heat and power and light. Who can say!’ argued Chloe. ‘But it’s important to protect the existing businesses and buoyant economy we have, not pie-in-the-sky future stuff that might never happen.’
Sean began to argue hotly with her about some politician and an energy bill that Sarah had never even heard of. She concentrated on the delicious food, promising herself that in the next few weeks she would make the effort and cook a big dinner for her family with all the proper trimmings.
There was a delicious hot treacle tart and vanilla ice-cream for pudding. Sarah had a really sweet tooth and lapped it up like a kid. It was only as she looked around the table she realized that most of the other female guests had demurred.
‘You liked that!’ teased Ronan. ‘I could tell.’
‘I guess when you are around six-year-olds as much as I am pudding and ice-cream is pretty much the main event after any meal!’
He laughed. ‘Yeah, kids are great, no pretensions.’
A man who actually liked kids and wasn’t put off by them – he was too good to be true. She told him a bit about Evie and they traded stories about growing up.
‘My big brother shaved my hair when I was six – gave me a blade five – and my poor mother almost broke down and cried when she saw my bald head, my first communion was only three weeks away.’
The Matchmaker Page 17