Page 6 of The Book of Irish Secrets
‘This is Karina Flavin. Sorry to call so late but I was going through the emails from the applicants and found your letter. It was a little unusual, to say the least.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Claire started. ‘It was a spur of the moment thing. Sorry if it was a little strange.’
‘I liked it,’ Karina said. ‘It made me laugh, actually. And I want to see you as soon as possible. When can you come in for an interview?’
‘Whenever you want,’ Claire said. ‘I’ve just arrived in Dingle and I’m staying at Madigan’s B&B.’
‘Good. Tomorrow at nine, then?’
‘Yes, that would be fine.’
‘Excellent. My house is the redbrick at the top of the hill. See you then.’ Karina hung up before Claire had a chance to sayeither thank you or goodbye or ask on what hill the house was on top of. But she was sure she’d find it anyway. All she’d have to do was to ask anyone on the street, or her host.
The book had slid down on the floor and Claire picked it up and opened it again. The family tree, more like a list of names and dates than a tree, continued on the next page and instead of going through every single name, she decided to look at the last name and then go back.
As she came to the end of the list, she saw her own name and that of her brother and sister. Her father, Seamus, and mother, Maureen née Hartigan, were above them and then, with her heart beating faster, she went back in time: to Liam Fleury, and his son, Fred, who she had been told was her father’s second cousin. Then she checked again, looking at the dates of birth. Yes, Fred and Claire’s father, Seamus, were second cousins; their fathers, Liam and Conor, were first cousins, whose fathers, Cornelius and Louis, were not only brothers, but twins.Holy moly, Claire thought.So my great-granddad was Cornelius’s twin brother. How very interesting.
She already knew that Liam’s widow, Sylvia née O’Farrell, was the famous Sylvia who still lived in the manor, and Patricia, also called Tricia, was Fred’s widow and the mother of the ‘princesses’ in her imagination. They all lived in the area, Tricia in the renovated gardener’s cottage, Lily and Rose in houses nearby and Vi, the youngest daughter, in the gate lodge.
Claire looked at the list of names again and noticed a little line under the names of the twins and something in faint writing. She put on her reading glasses and brought the book to the lamp to see better but all she could decipher were the words ‘before the fight’.That must mean that they had some kind of falling out – or a real, physical fight?She knew it had to be more than a rift, something terrible to make the twins enemies forever. How terrible and bitter it must have been. But when? And why?
Claire sighed and turned the page, feeling cheated. She found that the next few pages had photos glued to thick cardboard, most of them too faded to make out what it was about. But one of the photos caught her interest: that of two young men in morning coats and stiff collars, standing side by side. Claire peered at the photo and discovered something that made her sit up. This was even more exciting than she had thought.
FOUR
Claire kept staring at the photo of the young men. They were so alike, it was as if she was seeing double. ‘Identical twins,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘That must be Cornelius and Louis.’ She studied every detail of the photo and saw that they were standing against the backdrop of the front of the manor, the massive oak entrance door clearly visible. The shadow of the magnolia tree that gave the manor its name at the side of the steps cast a dappled pattern on the two young men. It was eerie to see the faces looking straight ahead and the eyes she assumed were either blue or green – or blue-green like hers? And that lock of dark hair falling down at exactly the same spot on both foreheads… How amazing. They were attractive in a romantic way and Claire could imagine the young ladies in the area swooning at the sight of them. The photo would have been taken around the beginning of the twentieth century, she assumed from the clothes and the youthful appearance of the young men, just out of their teens.Cornelius and Louis, she thought.What happened to you? What sparked the rift between you and why did you never meet again?
Claire felt suddenly sleepy again and decided to go to bed. She had to look her best for the interview with Karina Flavintomorrow morning. She put the big old book back into her tote bag and got into her pyjamas. Tomorrow was another day, after all, and she wouldn’t be much wiser by straining her eyes looking at faded old photos full of strangers. She had to do more research into the Fleury family which might lead to more clues.
She rinsed her mouth and looked at herself in the mirror above the basin as she applied moisturiser. She didn’t look too bad for her age, despite being tired after the long drive. Her dark curls that tumbled to her shoulders needed to be tamed and her face could do with a little foundation and blusher. A touch of mascara would bring out the green in her eyes but she wouldn’t use too much makeup, just enough to look fresh faced and in good health. A little spit and polish was all she’d need tomorrow. She yawned and got into bed after closing the curtains, snuggling under the warm duvet as she listened to the wind and the smatter of rain against the windows.
Tomorrow would be both exciting and nerve wracking. What was Karina Flavin like in person? she wondered. Possibly a little scary judging by her snappy tone on the phone. Claire decided to play it by ear and try her best to impress. It couldn’t be that hard to be assistant to Karina Flavin. Could it?
Claire woke up early, and after a delicious breakfast of porridge, bacon and a fried egg, a cup of Barry’s tea and a slice of home-baked soda bread, she was ready for the job interview with Karina Flavin. Her house was ‘just up the street’, she had been told by Mrs Madigan. ‘It’s the big Victorian pile of bricks with the monkey puzzle tree in the front garden.’ Mrs Madigan had been hugely interested in Claire and why she was in Kerry. Claire had given her a little basic information about herself without giving too much away, at which Mrs Madigan had looked disappointed.
Walking up the hill, Claire found herself buffered by the gale-force winds. Despite the chilly wind, she had to stop now and then to admire the view of the harbour and the blue waters of the ocean beyond. It felt wild and cold and wonderful at the same time and Claire felt a sense of elation as she gazed at the beautiful seascape, the mountains beyond and the seagulls soaring above her. She kept taking in gulps of the fresh air, feeling that she couldn’t get enough of it. How invigorating this place was. Why had she waited so long to come here?
Because she might not be welcome, she reminded herself.
She knew the other Fleury women might have inherited the generations-long feud, if they knew about it. Did they know about Claire’s side of the family and not want to meet them? Uncovering what happened was the only way she could be confident she’d be accepted through the front door of Magnolia Manor. She needed to find out more.
On the dot of nine o’clock, breathless and windblown, Claire rang the doorbell of the big house that had been easy to find. Nobody came to open the door, so Claire pressed the button again, listening to the jingle inside. Still no reply, so Claire pushed at the door and it swung open to reveal a neat hall with black and white tiles on the floor and a beautiful arrangement of dried flowers on a console table below an ornate mirror.
Claire stepped inside, calling, ‘Hello?’ As there was still no response to her call, she walked in and looked around. Then she heard a voice down the corridor that she could glimpse through another door, a voice shouting: ‘No! You evil monster! How dare you do this to me just now?’
Slightly panicked, Claire backed away for a moment, wondering what was going on. Was someone being attacked? Should she leave? Or call the police? The shouting came from a room at the end of the corridor, which was half open. In order to find out what was going on, Claire tiptoed to the door and peeredinside. There was only one person in the room: a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair sitting at a desk in front of a laptop. She tapped at the keyboard and then let out a huge groan and then a string of swear words.
‘Hello?’ Claire said. ‘Do you need help with anything?’
The woman turned around and stared at Claire with a shocked expression. ‘Who are you?’
‘Claire O’Hanlon. You asked me to come at nine o’clock.’
‘Claire O… Holy mother! Are you the girl who applied for the job?’
‘Eh,’ Claire said, startled to be confronted by a stressed Karina Flavin dressed in a white hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. ‘Yes, that would be me.’
‘Wonderful.’ Karina got up and gestured at the chair. ‘Well, here’s your first test, then. If you can fix my dratted laptop, the job is yours.’
