Page 55 of The Granddaughter's Irish Secret
Noel looked relieved. ‘I’m not really interested in distant relations. I’m sure I have a lot of second and third cousins all over the place, but if you’ve never met or have any shared memories, they don’t mean much. It’s the ones you’ve grown up with that count. Especially those you’re fond of. Twin souls, kindred spirits, you know?’
‘A twin soul is someone who sings a song only you can hear,’ Rose said, so quietly it was barely audible above the noise of the engine. ‘That’s true friendship to me.’
‘Lovely thought,’ Noel said and quickly squeezed her hand.
They travelled through the lovely landscape in silence then, not speaking until they reached Clonakilty, a nice little town inside the Cork–Kerry border. Noel asked if Rose wanted to stop for tea but she wanted to keep going and not stop until they were in Kinsale. So they skipped through the lovely seaside village of Schull, with its beautiful views over Roaring Water Bay, and on down the country road until they reached Kinsale, the little fishing town with steep winding streets. It ended at the harbour, where sailing boats were moored and the sixteenth-century Charles Fort stood at the high point of the headland, guarding the entrance to the bay.
‘What a magical place,’ Rose remarked, looking at the old houses, pubs and restaurants that lined the harbour. ‘The houses look so quaint and quirky.’
‘It’s a lovely spot to come for a weekend,’ Noel agreed as they drove down the main street.
‘I can imagine.’ Rose picked up her phone. ‘But we’re here on a mission and we have to find that house. It’s nearly three o’clock already.’
‘Do you have the Eircode?’ Noel asked. ‘Then we can put it into Google Maps and it’ll lead us there, no problem.’
‘I just put it in,’ Rose replied, her eyes on the screen. ‘And I can see the house is only up the road from here, above the area called Summerhill. Look.’ She held the phone out for Noel to see.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, glancing at the screen. ‘We’re very close. What views they must have from the top of that hill.’
‘Breathtaking, I’d say.’ Rose suddenly felt uneasy. What was she doing here? How were the Lincolns going to react when she told them the facts about the necklace? She had been so obsessed about finding the original that she had forgotten about everything else. Now she wasn’t so sure about anything any more. As if Noel’s secrets had put everything into question.
It didn’t take them long to find the house, a long bungalow with a front garden full of flowering shrubs. A rambling rose with tiny pink blossoms climbed over the green front door, which had a knocker in the shape of a lion’s head.
‘Nice house,’ Noel said.
‘Yes,’ Rose said, shaking with nerves. When Noel had parked the car beside the gate, she grabbed his arm to stop him getting out.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
‘I can’t do this,’ Rose whispered.
24
‘What do you mean?’ Noel asked, staring at her. ‘Do what?’
‘I can’t just waltz in and tell them about the necklace. It’s going to sound like I’m suggesting they stole it.’ Rose looked at Noel, her eyes full of tears. ‘What am I going to do?’
Noel frowned. ‘I see. Well, I suppose in a way you’re right. I understand why you feel that way, even if you do have the moral right to claim the real necklace. After all, it was stolen from the family.’
‘Maybe, but we don’t know who did it or why,’ Rose argued.
‘No, we don’t. I think…’ Noel paused for a moment, as if deep in thought. ‘Go with your gut,’ he suggested. ‘Don’t say anything about the fake necklace. See what happens. You’re just here to find out more about Iseult because of your research.’
Rose nodded, feeling calmer. It was such a comfort to have him here by her side supporting her, and knowing exactly how she felt. ‘Good idea. That’s what I’ll do.’
They walked together through the front garden, and then Rose knocked on the door using the lion’s head knocker. They waited for a while and eventually heard footsteps. The door wasopened by a tall dark-haired man with kind eyes behind dark-framed glasses. He smiled politely at them.
‘Hello. Are you Rose Fleury?’ he asked.
‘I am,’ Rose replied and shook his outstretched hand. ‘And this is my friend Noel Quinn.’
‘I’m Philip Lincoln,’ the man said and shook Noel’s hand as well. ‘So nice to meet you. Welcome to Willowbrook Lodge.’
‘Oh,’ Rose exclaimed. ‘How nice that you called your house after your ancestral home.’
Philip smiled. ‘Yes, we felt we wanted the constant reminder both for us and for our children. Willowbrook House meant a lot to our family. It still does.’ He held the door open. ‘But come in. My wife is on the terrace at the back of the house with our daughter.’
Rose glanced at Noel, wondering if he would break the news that he was related to Philip, but then assumed he wanted to wait for the right moment. ‘Thank you,’ she said, stepping into a bright hall.
