Page 14 of The Girl with the Irish Secret
‘So how was it?’ Sylvia asked. ‘Finding out you got the part, I mean.’
‘I was quite shocked actually.’ Vi put down her fork. ‘I didn’t expect to get it. Not even when they were saying I was the image of Kathleen. I’m still trying to get used to the idea. Me playing a major part in a movie? Unbelievable.’ She shook her head and started eating again. ‘This is delicious. Just like you always used to make it.’
‘Why would I change it?’ Sylvia asked. ‘It’s the one dish I do well. The rest I leave up to Arnaud when he’s here and Nora when he’s not.’
‘But now he’s not? And you would normally be in France,’ Vi said, looking at her grandmother with concern.
‘I know,’ Sylvia said with a shrug. ‘France was nice and warm and sunny. Quite lovely this time of year. But I just didn’t fit in. There wasn’t much to do there on the Riviera in the winter. It was full of old people sitting around playing cards and boules and generally shuffling around trying to pass the time. Quite pleasant but I got bored. Arnaud was running his business from his villa and was busy a lot of the time. I missed home too much. Here I have things to do and friends I have known all my life. And then there are my committees and charity work and my granddaughters and great-grandchildren. The tenants of the apartments are all very nice people too and I’m getting to know them.’
‘I can’t hear any noise,’ Vi remarked. ‘You wouldn’t know that there was anyone upstairs.’
‘That’s because they go to bed around ten o’clock,’ Sylvia said. ‘I love knowing they’re there and that the house is giving such comfort and companionship to older people. This is myhome and I love it. Too much to miss for a bit of sunshine, food and wine.’
‘And the company of a handsome man,’ Vi cut in.
‘I know,’ Sylvia said with a wistful smile. ‘I do miss him, that’s the worst part. But he’ll be here for Christmas and then in the spring, summer and early autumn.’
‘I’m so glad you’re not in France,’ Vi said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you were away now that I’m going to spend some time here.’
‘That’s good. But what are you going to do while you wait for the filming to start?’ Sylvia asked. ‘It’s not until March according to the producer. That’s four months away.’
‘I want to find out everything I can about Kathleen O’Sullivan,’ Vi replied. ‘Get under her skin, so to speak. I want… Oh, Granny, this has to be a huge success or I’m finished. I need to be as good as Meryl Streep playing Margaret Thatcher.’
‘A very tall order. She was outstanding in that movie.’ Sylvia held out her hand for Vi’s plate. ‘Some more stew?’
‘No thanks, Granny. It was yummy, but I’m stuffed.’ Vi pushed her plate away.
‘How about a slice of Nora’s apple pie?’ Sylvia asked with an amused smile. ‘With whipped cream. That might help pile on the pounds. You look like you need some flesh on those bones.’
‘I think I could fit that in,’ Vi said, laughing. ‘You know that’s one of the things I can’t resist.’
‘I thought you might make room for that.’ Sylvia went to the oven and took out a dish with half a pie. ‘I heated it for you. And I whipped some cream too.’
‘Oh, lovely.’ Vi tucked into the large slice with whipped cream heaped on top. ‘Funny how sweet things are easier to eat than anything savoury.’ She swallowed her mouthful and looked at Sylvia. ‘I was thinking, Granny, that you might know some things about Kathleen’s early life here in Kerry. I mean, you’re the same generation, aren’t you?’
‘Well,’ Sylvia said, ‘I suppose we were in a way. But Kathleen was born in nineteen twenty-nine, eleven years before I arrived. That’s quite an age difference.’
‘I know but…’ Vi paused while she finished her apple pie. ‘You must have known something about her, or known people who knew her. She grew up not a million miles from here, after all.’
‘Very different places,’ Sylvia said, her mouth in a thin line. ‘And her family was… Well, not of the same social class, if that doesn’t sound too snobby.’
‘It does,’ Vi remarked. ‘But I know what you mean.’ She looked at her grandmother for a moment. ‘Can you tell me anything about her that might help me get to know her better?’
‘Oh, much to tell,’ Sylvia mumbled. ‘But nothing I can talk about.’
‘Why not?’ Vi asked.
‘Well,de mortuis nil nisi bonumand all that.’ Sylvia got up and took Vi’s plate. ‘Maybe it’s time to go to bed now anyway. It’s nearly midnight.’
Vi nodded, knowing there was no use pushing her grandmother. It was late and Vi was tired after a long day’s travelling. The questions would have to be put more diplomatically at the right moment. ‘You’re right. It’s been quite a long day,’ she said, getting up. ‘Dinner was lovely and the apple pie fantastic. Thanks for waiting up, Granny. It’s so great to see you.’
‘Of course I’d wait up for you, my darling Violetta.’ Sylvia put the plate in the sink. Then she turned and took Vi’s hands in a tight grip, her eyes full of love. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘That’s good to know,’ Vi said. ‘Because I’m happy to be home despite what everyone might think.’
‘Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks,’ Sylvia said. ‘You were such a gift and you always will be to me. You were ourbright spark when you were a little girl. The only one who wasn’t touched by the tragedy. You were only a toddler but every time you came into a room you were like a ray of sunshine, smiling, laughing, playing games, bringing me a bunch of dandelions you had picked especially for me. You looked at me with your huge green eyes and your smile was like a balm to my soul. You had no idea what had happened and didn’t understand our tears. It helped us all through the worst of it.’
‘Oh,’ Vi said, touched by the emotion in those words. ‘That’s such a lovely thought. I always felt that I missed something because I don’t remember Granddad or my father. I don’t really remember anything about that sad time either. I understood it better when I grew up. It must have been a terrible time for you all.’
