Page 21 of The Widow's Irish Secret
She laughed at herself as she stepped into the cottage, thinking that she was trying too hard not to be a nuisance. Vi and Jack probably wouldn’t mind her staying with them, but then Tricia felt she also needed her own space to start her new life without her daughters looking over her shoulder.We’re all so alike, she thought,but better to keep a distance than stepon anyone’s toes.In any case, she also wanted to enjoy life and have fun before real old age set in. Her new gang of friends were on the same wavelength, even though the speed dating had been a mad thing to get involved with. She had gone with Maggie to lend her support, not to find a man, after all. But it had led her to Cillian and she had a strange feeling that it was somehow meant to happen. Maybe they’d connect again and she could make him forget her behaviour in the past. But then what? And how would they meet again? Should she simply wait for him to get in touch or call him herself? She decided to let it drift for a while. She had other things on her mind, such as the cottage and Vi’s engagement party and then the wedding at the end of August. So much to be happy about without the complications of a long-lost former boyfriend.
Feeling suddenly light-hearted, Tricia walked through the rooms of the cottage trying to imagine what it would look like once it was finished. Then she went up the stairs to the attic room and looked through the window to see if the boat she had seen was still there. But the blue water of the bay was empty of any kind of vessel. Whoever had been out there had left. Tricia promised herself to get a pair of binoculars so she could study what was going on next time the boat appeared.
Next, Tricia’s gaze drifted to the old wardrobe. It was a nice old piece and would look great in her new bedroom downstairs. It would only need a little beeswax and a lot of elbow grease and it would be as good as new. But how old was it? She walked over to it and opened the doors. Inside were shelves and two little drawers at the bottom. It smelled a little musty but there was no sign of mould. There were two crates on the top shelf which had possibly been used to store apples as the attic would be ideal for this kind of thing. It was cool and dry so apples would keep for a long time up here. Other vegetables, too, like carrots, onions andpotatoes. But it was originally meant to hold clothes or bedlinen, so why was it up here?
As there was no answer to that question, Tricia was about to close the doors but then pulled out one of the drawers. It was empty but the other one held an old folder made of cardboard that was covered in spots of mildew. Tricia opened it and found a few bits of yellowing paper with drawings that looked as if a child had drawn them many years ago. She peered at the words scribbled at the bottom of the first page with a drawing of several stick figures. She could just about see what it said:Mammy and the girls by Kieran.Tricia smiled. How sweet. Some little boy called Kieran had drawn his mother and sisters.
There was only one other drawing in the folder, that of a ship in full sail on a sea of wavy blue squiggles. The faint text said:S.S. Carmen in Dingle Bay, 1879.Fascinated, Tricia stared at the little drawing, amazed at how old it was. Whoever had drawn the picture – Kieran? – must have been sitting at the window looking out at sea where this ship was arriving on its way into the harbour.
Tricia closed the folder and put it back in the drawer. That’s where it had been put by someone all those years ago and there it would stay. She thought of Fred’s words all those years ago: ‘There might be something hidden here that could be very valuable.’
As she prepared to leave, she glanced yet again out the window, imagining some child sitting there looking out and seeing this ship, maybe dreaming of sailing away on the high seas, looking for adventure. She could nearly feel the presence of the little boy. This house held so many stories that she would never know. But the feeling of peace in the room told her that whoever had lived here in the past had been happy. She decided to take a look through the archives of Magnolia Manor that Rose had catalogued very soon. Maybe she’d discover who that littleboy was and what had happened to him. Could the wardrobe help her pay for the renovations? It might be a valuable antique. But most of all she wanted to find out more about the original occupants of the little house.Maybe, she thought,I can ask Cillian to help me? After all, he is an archaeologist and should be able to tell me how to look for clues about the past. A good excuse to suggest we meet…
12
Despite her resolve not to let her run-in with Cillian affect her, Tricia couldn’t stop thinking about him. She remembered the good times, when they had been on dates, and hadn’t been able to stop talking. Sometimes she had managed to forget her sorrow and simply enjoyed Cillian’s company and the way he made her laugh. She had to admit she had felt attracted to him then, even if it had been impossible for her to get any closer to him. And now, they had met again and she didn’t quite know what to do about it. She knew she had to contact him so she could nip her feelings in the bud. And she had her mystery to solve. But how would she get in touch? She didn’t have his phone number nor did she know where he was staying, but she was sure she could find out by contacting his sister who she knew lived near Nora’s house. So when Nora called in to the gatehouse a few days later to say hello on her way to see Sylvia, Tricia decided to act.
‘Hi,’ Tricia said as she opened the door and found Nora standing there. ‘Great to see you.’
‘Hi there,’ Nora said. ‘I just thought I’d drop in to see how the speed dating went.’
‘Oh, well,’ Tricia started. ‘It was fun. And interesting. Also a little startling. But come in and have a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.’
‘Thanks, just a quick one, then,’ Nora said and stepped into the hall. ‘I’m on my way to help Sylvia with the invitations to the engagement party but thought I’d pop in to get all the news.’
‘Lots to tell you,’ Tricia said and led the way to the kitchen. ‘Sit down while I make the coffee. Vi is in Limerick for that new TV series she told us about. The details are very hush-hush right now so I’m not allowed to tell you everything. But I will as soon as I can.’
Nora sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I can’t wait to hear. But tell me about Friday night. Maggie said you met an old flame. Who was it?’
‘Cillian O’Malley.’
‘What?’ Nora blinked and stared at Tricia. ‘You’re joking.’
‘No, it really was him.’ Tricia put a pod into the Nespresso machine and pressed the button. ‘Hang on until the machine finishes. It’s a bit noisy.’ She made two small mugs and carried them to the table and sat down. ‘Help yourself,’ she said and gestured at the sugar bowl and milk jug.
‘I take it black.’ Nora grabbed a mug and took a sip. ‘So tell me,’ she said.
‘Well, nothing much happened,’ Tricia started. ‘But I nearly fainted when I saw him. I was stunned, to be honest. So was he, I think. So we sat there, staring at each other, trying to think of something to say. He was there by accident, he said and then we only had five minutes to chat and he said he’d see me later, but then he disappeared and I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Oh.’ Nora looked startled. ‘But… I mean… How did you feel? Must have been a shock to see him.’
‘To put it mildly.’ Tricia poured a dash of milk into her mug. ‘We stared at each other like two rabbits caught in headlights. Ithink I stammered something and he asked me how I was and said I looked good, or something.’ She looked into her mug and thought for a while. Then she looked at Nora. ‘I was happy to see him,’ she said. ‘Shocked but happy. I want to see him again. Just to talk. It’s nothing to do with Fred. More with me and a kind of connection I’ve always felt with him. We dated for a while in Dublin about twenty-five years ago, but it didn’t lead anywhere. It was too soon for me.’
‘I had no idea he was in town,’ Nora said. ‘How does he look? A lot older?’
‘He looks the same as ever, even if the black hair now has grey streaks,’ Tricia replied. ‘There’s no mistaking the wide shoulders, the broken nose, square jaw or those big hazel eyes. I often wondered why he never had the nose fixed when he stopped playing rugby,’ Tricia continued. ‘And I thought he had left Ireland for good.’
‘Looks like he’s back,’ Nora said. ‘He’s an archaeologist, isn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ Tricia said, as the memories of Cillian O’Malley came back to her. ‘He worked on digs all over the world. I haven’t met him for over twenty years but I did google him a while back because someone I knew in college asked about him.’
‘Maybe he’s digging somewhere around here?’ Nora suggested. ‘There is so much to discover around Kerry. Megalithic tombs, Iron Age forts and all sorts of old ruins.’
‘Could be,’ Tricia said. ‘We didn’t talk much about his work.’ Cillian and Fred had been close friends and had been both at school and at Trinity College together. But Fred had come home after completing his BA degree and Cillian had stayed on to do first a masters then a PhD in archaeology. ‘Cillian often stayed at Magnolia Manor for his summer holidays even after Fred and I were married.’
‘Yes, I remember that,’ Nora said. ‘The three of you had such fun together.’
‘Yes we did,’ Tricia said. ‘We’d often met up to go hiking in the mountains or camping trips along the Wild Atlantic Way. We were like the Three Musketeers,’ she said. ‘Cillian used to worry about crowding us but we loved having him join us on our adventures.’
