Page 1 of Where the Waves Kiss the Shore
ONE
Kasia Wojcik balancedthe three plates as she quickly crossed the Waterside Hotel’s otherwise empty dining room. As she reached the small but rowdy group at the table facing the harbor, she said, “Now, three full Irish. One with extra white pudding.”
“That’s mine,” piped up the most disheveled looking of the three young men, which was no mean feat. They were on the third morning of their long weekend on the island, and they’d been maximizing the profits of the Emerald Bar down the road for most of their stay. It had been good news for Seán, the bar manager, but she’d be glad to see the back of them on the midday ferry. Until then, they were customers, and she would do what she could to make them feel welcome.
“Is there anything else you need? Any other sauces?”
The white pudding lover emptied half the bottle of brown sauce onto his plate then smirked up at her. “I think we’ve got what we need, thanks. Why don’t you sit down and have a chat?”
She’d been relieved each morning when they’d let her be, grunting over their food as they soaked up the alcohol from the night before. “I’m sorry. I’d love to, but it’s just me working today, and I need to finish up in the kitchen before you check out.”
She glanced at her watch. They’d pushed breakfast time as late as possible, and they’d need to be packed and out in an hour to make the lunchtime ferry. The last thing she needed was them hanging around until evening.
He shoved the empty chair opposite with his foot and scratched at his three-day stubble. “Ah, come on. You’ve hardly said a word to us all weekend. Tell us a bit about yourself.”
She ignored the unfairness of the comment. She’d been nothing but friendly the whole time. The boys had either been hung over, or in a rush to get out to the bar every time they’d crossed paths. But she needed those five-star reviews. She leaned on the back of the proffered chair and plastered on the best smile she could muster. “I’m Kasia, as I told you when you arrived. I’m the hotel manager. What else would you like to know?”
The oldest of the three turned to her. The whites of his eyes were pink in the sunlight. “We were wondering where you’re from.”
That was always the question. “I live here, all year round. This is my home.”
“Ah, you know what we mean. Before that. Where are you fromoriginally?” White Pudding speared a sausage as if to punctuate the last word, then started to eat it whole.
“We’ve been having a sweepstake, like,” said Pink Eyes. “Alan thinks Romania, but he’s an idiot; Shane here has gone for Ukraine; and I’m sticking with Russia.”
The third and quietest member of the group had the decency to avoid eye contact, looking down at his plate with great concentration. Kasia’s head throbbed with the effort not to respond as she wanted. She pushed back from the chair and turned to the kitchen.
“Ah, go on, put us out of our misery. Tell us who’s won.”
“I told you; I’m Irish. Do you need to see my passport?” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she pushed the door to the kitchen.
Before the door swung shut, Kasia heard the quiet one say, “Leave it, Tom. You’re pissing her off.”
She sidestepped Fergus—the ginger cat she’d inadvertently inherited and who only appeared for food or at a perfect time to trip her up—and gripped the cold aluminum of the sink. The view out into the bay could always calm her. Fergus jumped on the counter and bumped his head to hers. She tried to keep him away from the kitchen surfaces, but now she was glad of the interaction.
There had been a time when the type of encounter with people like Tom and his friends would have brought her to tears, but she was long past that. Still, it weighed her down like a backpack pulling at her shoulders. She’d never really be local; she’d always be a “blow-in.” It was a benign enough phrase. She’d heard many worse in her years in London and Dublin, but it still labeled her as “other.” And that was what she yearnednotto be.
Peggy, her old boss, had treated her as part of the family from the day she’d arrived. A sharp observer of people, she’d picked up early on Kasia’s interest in women and her unease with that part of herself. Peggy had made it clear Kasia was in an environment where she could be herself and be accepted. If only she could believe that. Peggy had passed away in the early summer, and she was alone once more.
I’ve so much work to do. I need to get a grip.All her seasonal staff had long since left, returning to school or college. She’d have to manage on her own until the Christmas break.She surveyed the kitchen. Once she finished clearing up after breakfast, she had three rooms to clean and a hotel to lock up before she caught the evening ferry over to the mainland. Shecould wait until the morning for her shopping trip, but a fun night out in a city bar was too attractive to turn down…as was the young woman who worked there. Last trip she’d gone out of her way to ask when Kasia would be back.
The turnover of tourists was down to a trickle now as they moved from autumn to winter, but she never liked to risk the chance of anyone on the island hearing of her activities, so she sought out discreet encounters farther from home. She would need to keep up her visits to the city, or it would be a long, cold, and lonely island winter.
As she reachedon tiptoes for the last pack of muesli on the top shelf, Kasia’s muscles complained from the workout they’d had last night with Melissa, and the packet remained just out of reach. A hand appeared from behind her, grabbed the pack easily and passed it down to her.
“Not as tall as you like to think you are.”
The quiet but playful voice warmed her heart. She turned to see Joey, her favorite person on the island. Maybe her favorite anywhere. Thick brown hair stuck out from under a dark beanie, their bright blue eyes shining with humor.
“Joey, what are you doing here?”
She leaned in for a hug but Joey stepped back, indicating their stained work clothing.
“I just got off the boat. Stay away unless you want to smell of prawns.”
“I love prawns.” She wrapped Joey in her arms, ignoring the slight fishy scent when her nose came close to their waterproof coat. She knew it was a sensitive issue for Joey, who wasfastidious about showering after work, but she enjoyed teasing them a little. “You smell delicious.”
Joey pulled away and laughed. “You’re a liar, but I love you anyway.”
