Page 65 of A Very Irish Christmas
‘I know, but I prefer to be early – it’ll give me time to start acting like a normal human being instead of someone she wants to disown.’
He sees how flustered I am, and I hate that my nerves are getting the better of me. I’ve been in a little bubble since I arrived in Campton St George – after a bumpy start, everyone now feels reassuringly familiar. I feel safe with them, and stepping outside that bubble is a little harder than I expected.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Ryan asks, tilting his head to one side. ‘You seem a bit on the skittish side today.’
I bite my lip, and know I should say no – that I will be fine. Except I kind of do want him to come with me, and maybe this is all part of my changing outlook on life – not being afraid to ask for what I want.
‘Erm… maybe, if you can? I mean, I don’t want to take away from your family time.’
‘I’m here until New Year, Cassie. I’ll be altogether desperate to get away from them before then. Look, it’s no bother or I wouldn’t offer. All right?’
‘All right. Thank you. I don’t know why I feel jittery about it, but I do.’
‘You’re allowed. We all have our moments.’
We head up the wooden stairs, and I stare around for a few minutes as we wait for a spot to be cleared for us. It’s a beautiful space, tables and chairs laid out in a galleried level that overlooks the rest of the market. Sweeping wooden beams soar above us, pale light flooding in from windows in the roof. The décor is classy and the atmosphere bustling, the aromas reminding me that I barely ate at breakfast. I hope my stomach doesn’t start rumbling in the middle of our conversation.
The waitress settles us at a table, and we stare at the menus. It takes Ryan all of thirty seconds to decide, but I’m coming to the conclusion that coffee might be all I need after all.
‘Will you have some toast at least?’ Ryan pushes, as we order. I agree that might be a good idea, and I go back to checking the time on my phone.
‘She’s late,’ I announce, frowning.
‘By three minutes. She’s coming in from Glounthaune, did you say?’
I nod. I have no idea where that is, but she’d assured me by text message that it would be a lot more fun for her to come into the city, where she could ‘make a day of it’.
‘I’ll just message her,’ I decide. ‘I sent her a picture so she’d know who to look out for, but she’ll be expecting me to be on my own.’
‘You needn’t worry. I’d say this is her now, coming right at us.’
I look up from my screen, and see that he is most definitely right. She doesn’t have my height, but there is a definite family resemblance. She’s in her forties, with an identical shade of red hair to me and Suzie, and a surprised look on her face that says she’s thinking exactly the same as me. I stand up to greet her, my chair scraping across the floor.
‘Will you look at that!’ she exclaims as she reaches us, looking me up and down. ‘It’s like somebody stretched me! Sorry I’m abit late, the trains were awful slow because of the weather. I’m Deirdre, in case you hadn’t guessed.’
She looks Ryan up and down, a glint in her lively blue eyes, and says: ‘And who would this be?’
He stands up and introduces himself, and she laughs when she realises he’s local.
‘And here’s me thinking I was about to meet a dishy American! Nice to meet you both, anyway. Plus a fine excuse to get away from my kids for the day.’
‘You have children?’ I ask, amazed at the thought of this whole other family, linked to me by Nanna Nora.
‘I have four, and they’re all evil.’
The waitress comes back with our drinks, and Deirdre orders tea and toast. Once we’re settled and have exchanged small talk, she says: ‘I was so pleased to hear from you, Cassie. I’ve been pulling together the family tree for a while now as a Christmas present for my daddy, and this is the icing on the cake. I’d heard stories about your nanna, but they were just that, you know? Tales told in the family. She always seemed very mysterious, the way she disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’ I repeat, frowning.
‘Oh yes. Upped and left, she did, and nobody was certain what became of her. If I have the right of it, she’d have been my great-grandfather’s youngest sister – there were quite a few years between them, I’m told. So your dad and my grandmother were cousins, and you and my dad are third cousins – you share great-grandparents. I think that’s what it is, anyway – it’s enough to make your brain bleed, to be truthful. Anyway – you’re family at least! No doubting that now I’ve met you.’
She chatters away merrily, and I ask: ‘I’m still confused about the disappearing thing. Nanna Nora never talked much about life back here, she just said she’d come to the US for a fresh start, like thousands of others.’
‘I don’t know the ins and outs, it was a long time ago. But from what’s been said in the family, once she left she cut off contact with everybody back home. Sent a postcard saying she was safe and well, and that was that. My granny used to say it was on account of her broken heart.’
‘Her… broken heart?’ I repeat again, stirring my tea so hard it spills over the edge of the cup. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m told there was a man – isn’t there always?’
