“Then what happened?”
Paudie looked around as more people arrived. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “They were in this gang, you see, and Dan was the ring leader. Anyway, to cut a long story short, the whole thing blew up one night when they were all in a car going home from a party. All high on coke. They drove like mad on the road up to the Connor pass. No one knows what they were planning to do there. But on the way down, they drove the car straight into a wall. One of the boys was killed, and Mick got the blame.”
“Oh no!”
Paudie nodded. “Mick told me Dan was actually driving, but managed to put the blame on him. Don’t know if that’s true though. But I have my suspicions.”
“What happened to Mick?”
“He got seven years for manslaughter.”
Shocked, Megan stared at Paudie. “Where is he now?”
“After getting out of jail, he went to England. He got a job at a building site in Birmingham. He still lives there. Can’t come back here, of course.”
“Oh God. I had no idea. But Dan—”
“Is the model of good behaviour now, of course.”
Megan put a hand on his arm. “What a horrible thing to happen. It must have been so hard for your family.”
“Yes, it was. My mother had a stroke shortly afterwards. She never recovered and died a year later.”
“Oh God,” Megan said. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”
Paudie put his hand on hers. “Thank you.”
A fanfare interrupted them. “The pageant has started,” Paudie said. “Let’s forget about all of this and enjoy ourselves.”
Megan stared at the row of vintage cars coming into view, and at the newly crowned Rose of Tralee waving to the crowd. She tried to forget about what she had just heard, but Paudie’s story was still in her mind. Not a very unusual story and something that happened far away in someone’s youth, but she knew it would make her look at Dan in a slightly different way.
***
By the time the main steeplechase was about to start, Megan had nearly forgotten about Garret Nolan and the family feud. She borrowed Paudie’s racing binoculars and inspected the horses as they went into the starting gates. Many of them shied and backed away and had to be guided in. But Diana’s Bare Necessities sauntered in as if he was eager to get going.
“He’s quite small,” Megan said. “That’s him there, isn’t it? The little grey horse with the jockey in bright pink?”
Paudie took the binoculars and had a look at the horse. “Yes. I don’t think he has much of a chance. The going is good. But look at the favourite.”
Megan reached for the binoculars again. The favourite, number three, was a big bay with wild eyes. “Yes, probably. Don’t know why I had that mad flutter. Just a feeling it was the right thing to do.”
“You never know.” Paudie patted her hand. “It’s only money.”
“Two hundred euros, what was I thinking? But if I win…” She trained the binocular on the little grey. “Come on, boy, you can do it,” she whispered.
The crowd roared as the gates opened, and the horses catapulted onto the course. The favourite took the lead at once and was soon a few lengths ahead, with Bare Necessities trailing at the back.
Megan slumped in her seat and turned her head away. “I don’t want to look.”
Paudie didn’t reply but took the binoculars from Megan and kept them clamped to his eyes. He suddenly made a strange noise. “What the—? Hey, Megan, look!”
“What? Our horse died?”
“No, he’s—” Paudie pulled at Megan. “Will you look, for fuck’s sake!”
Megan came to life at the same time as the crowd stood up as one and started to shout. She stared at the clump of horses and noticed that the jockey in bright pink and the little grey horse were nearly in the lead. The favourite was struggling, but the little grey soldiered on and, inch by inch, narrowed the gap. Then they were neck and neck.
“Come on!” Megan shouted. “You can do it!”
As if he could hear her, the little grey horse surged forward just before they reached the finish, and won by a head.
The crowd cheered. Paudie beamed. Megan threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
Paudie hugged her tight and laughed. “You won four thousand euros, girl. Why are you crying?”
Megan laughed and wiped the tears away. “I don’t know. It was just so exciting. And winning felt so strange.” She sighed and flopped onto her seat. “I can get some furniture now. Have the windows replaced. Finally get my house to look like a home.”
“And I won eight hundred. What a star Diana is to breed such a little trooper. We must go and thank her. She’ll be in the owner’s tent in a minute. I bet she’ll treat us to champagne.”
They started to walk down the steps, the crowd milling around them. When they were nearly at the bottom, Megan noticed a commotion below. Someone seemed to have collapsed.
“Someone’s been taken ill,” Paudie said.
“Should we go and see if we can help?”
They were interrupted by a siren. An ambulance came into view, lights blazing. “There would have been one standing by for the jockeys,” Paudie remarked. “Best place to have a heart attack, if you want the best care.”
The ambulance stopped, and two paramedics jumped out. They immediately came to the victim’s aid and applied an oxygen mask to his mouth. “Oh, good. He seems to be alive and breathing,” Megan said, relieved.
They lifted the man onto a stretcher. Then Megan saw who he was: Garret Nolan, clutching a bunch of betting tickets.
***
“Something’s come up,” Dan said. He had walked into the house late one evening, just as Megan arrived home.
She put her bag on the kitchen table. “What’s the matter?”
Dan pushed his fingers through his hair. “My dad’s in hospital, and I’ve had to take over at his office as well.”
“How is he?”
Dan sighed. “He had a heart attack two days ago. At the races.”
“I know. I was there.”
Dan looked up. “You were? At the races? What were you doing there? And why didn’t you tell me?”
Megan switched on the kettle. “Do I have to tell you everything? Yes, I was at the races. With…” She paused. “I mean, to see a friend’s horse run in one of the races. Then your dad collapsed practically in front of me. The ambulance was there in seconds, so he got help very quickly. I was told who he was by…” she paused again. “Some people who knew him.”
Dan looked confused. “Oh. Who’s your friend?”
“What? Oh, the one with the horse. Diana Connolly-Smith, my neighbour. Not her horse exactly, she just bred him. He won, actually.” Megan drew breath.
“Did you bet on him?”
Megan beamed. “Yes. And I won. Four thousand euros. Isn’t that amazing? I can afford to have the windows done now.”
He looked at her blankly. “You won four thousand euros?”
“Yes. Couldn’t believe it. It was like a dream. So exciting. But never mind about me. How’s your dad now?”
Dan sat down at the table. “He’ll be fine. It wasn’t a major attack. But he’ll have to be careful. Losing all that money didn’t help though.”
“I can imagine. Tea?”
“Yes, please. I could do with a cup. I’m a little stressed right now. What with my dad and then this problem with your house. So tea would be nice. Unless you have anything stronger.”
“No.” Oddly irritated at the way he made himself so familiar in her house, Megan busied herself with making tea. After she had put two mugs on the table and poured boiling water into the teapot, she sat down opposite Dan. “You said something’s come up with the house. So what’s the emergency, then?”
He looked suddenly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat noisily and started to speak very fast. “Well, it’s about the deeds. The probate court made a mistake. We’ve found that the property is encumbered, and
there’s an outstanding debt of twenty-five thousand on it. It appears Pat borrowed some money a few years ago and didn’t pay it back. That debt is now yours.” Dan drew breath. “So…”
“So..?” Megan said. “How am I going to find that kind of money?”
Dan shrugged. “Unless you have it or take out a loan, you’ll have to sell.” He looked at her at last and smiled. “But you have that amazing offer, so you could sell up very quickly, pay the debt and still be rolling in it. So that’s pretty cool, right”
Megan looked at Dan for a long time. “No, it isn’t. I love this house. Having to sell it would break my heart. Why can’t you see that?”
Dan squirmed. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you see that hanging on to this shack is madness? That you could buy any little cottage out there on the Maharees and still have some cash left over?” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “We could be together there every weekend. And you’d be near to The Blue Door, so you’d get to work quickly. Think about it, Megan. You’d be living in a gorgeous spot and not have all the hassles of doing up this ugly—”
The chair toppled onto the tiles with a loud clatter as Megan shot up. “Ugly? You call my house ugly? I think it’s a very beautiful house, actually. I know it’s run down and in need of repairs. But…”
Dan walked around the table and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to say your house was ugly. It’s just that it’s going to take so much work and so much money to do it up. Seems too much for a girl.” He kissed her cheek. “Okay, so I was jealous. I don’t want you to spend so much time and effort on the house. I want to be with you as much as I can. I can’t stop thinking about you when we’re apart. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He turned her around and kissed her mouth.
She sighed and let him, yet again, soothe her into submission.
***
Megan pulled in beside Paudie’s gate only half noticing the strange car with Dublin number plates. Maybe some tourist looking for directions. Funny how this road seems to attract them. Paudie often joked that he would have to start charging for information or put up a little booth selling coffee and a map of the area.
Smiling to herself, Megan went around the back of the house. The kitchen door was open and Denis wandered out, wagging his tail. Megan patted his head and walked into the kitchen. She stopped halfway in and stared at the kitchen table. It was laid for dinner with tableware she had never seen before. Confused, she looked at the linen placemats, the silver cutlery, the crystal wineglasses and the jug with artfully arranged wildflowers.
The kitchen was tidy, the stove polished and the dresser cleared of the usual disarray. There was a smell of something delicious, full of garlic and herbs coming from the oven, and a stick of French bread lay across the front to warm. The room looked like a photo in Good Housekeeping. Dinner for two in my country kitchen, or something, Megan thought fleetingly, before the door to the living room flew open and a woman burst in.
She stopped dead and looked at Megan. “Oh. Hi. Sorry, but…” She was tall and slim with blond ringlets framing an angelic face, huge eyes and a pouty mouth. Dressed in a sky blue tee-shirt, long cotton skirt and sandals, she looked as if she was about to sing a hymn in some chapel in The Sound of Music.
Megan ran a hand through her windswept hair and felt suddenly unfresh, as if she needed to put on deodorant and brush her teeth. “Hi, I’m Megan,” she said and held out her hand.
The woman looked confused. “Yes? What can I do for you?”
Megan let her hand drop. “You mean Paudie hasn’t said anything about me?”
She shook her head. “Uh, no. But I only arrived this afternoon. Paudie is out doing some farming or something. He’ll be here soon. I hope,” she added with a laugh. “Or the coq au vin will be a disaster.”
Megan managed a pale smile. “Well, that would be… disappointing.” She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “In any case, like I said, I’m Megan. O’Farrell. I live down the road. I’m doing up an old house I inherited.”
The woman smiled, showing a row of tiny white teeth. “I see. I thought you were a lost tourist. She held out her hand. “I’m Victoria. Bunny for short.”
Only now did Megan notice her America accent. Grace fucking Kelly, she thought, at the same time trying to figure out how Victoria could become Bunny. “Hi,” she said automatically and shook hands. “Nice to meet you.”
Bunny nodded. “Very nice. I suppose you’re wondering who the hell I am, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Paudie and I were in a relationship a while back. It didn’t work out, so I went back home again. But I had to come over to get a few things I left, like my paintings and so on. So here I am. And Paudie was so glad to see me and asked me to stay a while longer. So I’ll be spending what’s left of my vacation here.” She smiled wistfully. “And who knows? We might find that romance isn’t quite dead after all.”
Chapter 13
“Shit. She’s back,” Beata said. They were walking on the beach after a long morning of washing up and making beds.
Megan looked at Beata. “Why does that bother you? I mean Paudie had broken up with her when you were with him.”
“Yeah, but she was on his mind constantly. He couldn’t stop talking about her. I suppose he was on the rebound when he met me, so I was just some kind of consolation prize. Or a way to prove to himself he could still do it. She’s one of those ballbreakers, you know?”
Megan laughed. “She looks like an angel from one of those old paintings. I can’t imagine she’d break anyone’s balls. More like she’d burst into ‘My Favourite Things’ any minute.”
“Yeah,” Beata sighed. “But the fragile-looking ones are the worst. I bet she’ll move back in now and pick up where she left off. Turning the house into an art gallery and Paudie into her lap dog.”
“I can’t see that happening.”
Beata stopped and looked at Megan. “How do you feel about this? I mean you and Paudie are pretty close.”
“We’re just friends. Close friends, but that’s all.”
Beata peered at Megan. “Really? Just friends, huh?”
“Of course,” Megan said. “Nothing more. But nothing less either. If he’s happy, so am I.”
“Yeah, sure. I wouldn’t have thought he could resist a hot woman like you.”
“Hot?” Megan laughed. “Me? I might have been once. But look at me now.” She glanced down at her less-than-clean jeans and wrinkly cotton shirt. “A long way from the stylist I used to be. I haven’t had my hair cut in two months or had a facial or even done my nails, other than cutting them short. I seem to have done some kind of Cinderella in reverse this summer.”
Beata started walking across the sand again. “You know, you’re much more attractive now than you were when you arrived. Much less stuck up and snobby.”
“What?” Megan pulled at Beata. “What did you say? Stuck up and snobby?”
Beata turned around. “Yes, you were. You looked at everyone and judged them for how they looked and what they wore. You even tried to restyle Boris, remember?”
Megan laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. And he listened for a while. Even went and had his hair cut and bought that pink shirt in TK Maxx. I thought you’d have a heart attack when you saw him.”
Beata giggled. “Yeah, the Ralph Lauren look lasted for about an hour. Then he said it was too good for everyday and never wore it again. And the hair grew out into the same old mop.”
Megan sat down on the sand. “Let’s take a break. The wind’s getting up, and they’ve promised a storm later.”
Beata joined her. “The first storm of the summer. Means we’re getting into autumn.”
“That’s a little sad.”
“Yes.”
They both looked at the sea in silence for a few minutes. The wind increased in strength, but it was still warm.
“So how do you feel about Paudie and Saint Victoria, then?”
Beata asked.
“How do you mean?” Megan pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them. “I told you. We’re just friends, so why should that change anything?”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything.”
Beata glanced at Megan with respect. “You’re one smart bitch.”
***
Megan pulled herself together and finished painting all the walls of the house. She decided to use some of the money she had won to buy furniture. She contacted the firm in Dingle for a quote to replace the window frames, and made an appointment with the bank manager in Tralee to negotiate a loan. Not that she had high hopes he would agree but she had to try. The loss of the unemployment benefits, although small, made her finances less than impressive, but she did have the income from Beata and what was left of her savings.
She had a fun day with Beata in Tralee trawling through furniture shops. They bought a bed with an iron bedhead, a white bedside cupboard and a matching wardrobe. A bookcase for the front room that had been the good room and would be turned into a study-cum-guestroom. Her remaining furniture was brought down to Kerry by hired transport and carted into the house by two burly Latvians. The red sofa looked as if it belonged in front of the fireplace, and the antique desk fit perfectly into the alcove in the new study. With the addition of two large Indian rugs they found in a second-hand shop, an expensive patchwork quilt Megan fell in love with in a design shop and assorted lamps and framed prints, the house was now a home.
When all the items were carted into the house by a surly Boris who had driven them home in Beata’s battered van, Megan sank into the sofa with a sigh. “Finally.”
Beata looked around the room. “This is really nice. I love the white walls. Makes the room so bright. The curtains we found will look good here. And with the rug and the two easy chairs we discovered in that second-hand shop, it’ll be really comfortable and cosy. A room to cuddle up in front of the fire on a wet day.”
“If I can get the chimney swept,” Megan sighed.
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