Page 34 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)

“Oh God, I’ll see you all next week then.

If you let her loose in an old building with ‘things’ in it, you won’t get out for weeks.

She once locked Jude in a warehouse on purpose so they had to stay and pick out items for a building that told her it wanted old machinery in it.

” He widens his eyes at us. “Be afraid, girls, be very afraid.”

“That is only partially true,” Evie starts.

`“So you are denying you locked him in?”

“No—”

“You’re denying you made him pick out old machinery? All night?”

“No, the building asked for old cabinets, not machinery,” she finishes in a flourish.

We all start to laugh at her. The baby comes off her breast to look at us all laughing, turns a beautiful smile at us, and goes back to her lunch.

“Even my beautiful little Rio knows you’re barking.”

I can hardly breathe when Jonno goes to kiss the baby’s head. Oh God, how am I going to survive him, survive this thing between us. And the whole swirling mess of potential thievery.

We land back for dinner, tired and dirty, but utterly buzzing.

And not just from the café renovation ideas.

I can almost see the shape of the cafe to come.

Evie has an amazing eye. What I thought of as old rusting cans, she was grabbing ahold of and putting them to be reloved and used.

Old bottles, piles of them, I was mentally arranging to be melted down.

But not Evie. She suggested we stack them, use them as lights.

A feature wall of bottles. Christy and I were in awe.

The twins rush Evie, and Rio once again is given to her to feed.

I don’t know how she does it. We’ve worked all day, hardly stopping the rummaging of items. Tommy and Jonno had been called over to haul the bigger items to the front of the doors.

I watched her drift off, photograph things, move stuff around. Write things on her phone.

Marshall and my dad even brought the twins, Ryan, and Lara out to us, and they ‘helped’ drag a few items to the doors, ready for pick up.

But the piece de resistance was the old cask we found.

Partially hidden behind a wall, if Jonno had not tugged so hard on a piece of wood and the bricks caved in, we may never have found it.

Someone was trying hard to conceal its hiding place.

“What the devil. Marshall, get over here.” Daddy’s shouting across the room, his voice high pitched with excitement.

Moving Ryan and the twins out of the way, who were trying to climb into the hole, a hush falls over us all as we watch Marshall and Jonno drag the old cask from behind the brick wall.

Old mortar and brick pieces sit on top of it, all covered with a thick layer of dust. But the look on Marshall’s face when he sees the cask fully—pure rapture.

“Christ, that is an old one.” He’s spinning it around on its rim, looking for markings or any distinguishing features. “Look here.” He points to a small mark on the wood.

“Are you sure that’s a mark? Not just a knot?” Jonno has gotten down on the floor to peer at it. “It looks like a knot in the wood, Marshall.” He looks up at my dad and Marshall, who are both smiling at each other knowingly.

“It’s a mark. Definitely,” Marshall states. We just need to check on the archive if we can date it. But I’d say it’s early. Very early.” He’s shaking his head.

Daddy looks like he might be having another heart attack. “What if it’s full, brother? Jaysus. Can you think how much this could be worth?” They’re rocking the cask gently. Trying to gauge if there is anything in it.

“Can we open it? Will it be full?” Ryan asks Dad.

“We can, and no I don’t think it will be full. If anyone’s had any drinks from it, was probably hidden so they could have a few drinks and not be seen. Or maybe to sneak it out and sell it themselves.”

“And then there’s the angel’s share to consider.” Marshall smiles widely at everyone, but widens his eyes at Ryan, Lara, and the twins.

“Do angel’s drink whiskey?” Lara asks in surprise.

“Oh yes, they’ve been drinking this every day since it was hidden here. No wonder there’s a happy atmosphere in this place.” Marshall grins at them all .

“Well, how do they get it out?” She’s touching the barrel, stroking the top where the bung is. It looks very snug and not open at all.

Marshall and daddy are in raptures. “Every day the whiskey is in the cask”—he taps the side—“a little bit evaporates into the air.” He lifts his hands up into the air as he’s talking, waggling his fingers gently.

The twins start to try and grab fresh air around him, as do Ryan and Lara.

“And the whiskey that escapes, goes to the angels, which is why we call it ‘the angel’s share.’”

“They must be drunk as skunks,” Ryan states in awe, looking up and around him, as if he expects to be able to see a host of drunk angels lolling around in the rafters of the building. Opening and closing his mouth as if he’s drinking, the twins copy him.

“You lot are too young to drink whiskey. We need to get out of here.” Jonno grins at the boys and goes to grab them. They start to squeal.

“Do you think it’s valuable, Dad?” Evie asks Marshall, bringing Rio over with her and stroking the dark aged rough wood as if it’s silk.

“Could be, if I can identify the mark. The old barrel men marked them up. We have an archive of them. But it’s old.

I’d say late 17 or 1800s. If there’s anything left in it, it could be worth anything from thousands to millions.

” The awe in his voice is palpable. Both he and Daddy can hardly contain their excitement.

“Didn’t one from Scotland sell for over fifteen million?” Jonno asks.

We all stare at the barrel. Like it’s the golden goose.

“Well, that would save us a lot of trouble if it was. But it might also be empty and a good prop for the café. A talking point.” I smile around at everyone.

“I’m praying for the first option.” I touch Dad’s shoulder, my love and happiness pouring from me to him.

He looks so young, so enthusiastic. Whiskey has been his life.

They love it, both he and Marshall. I love it as much as they do.

I hope I can do it justice regardless of the value of this cask.

“Well let’s get it moved, and under lock and key. It’ll take me a while to age it, as the marks are all different and in the archive. I better get my reading glasses updated.” Marshall grins at Daddy. “Just imagine, brother...” His and Daddy’s eyes glaze over in dreamy contemplation.

“Well let’s keep this between the family only,” Daddy states and looks seriously at Ryan and Lara. “Loose lips sink ships. Especially with special whiskey in them.” They both make a gesture as if they are zipping their mouths shut.

“Can I help look for the mark, Uncle Marshall?” Ryan asks. “My eyes are really good.” He takes hold of his hand.

“Yes, of course. We’ll start when we get a minute.

But the papers are really old and very special, so we have to be careful.

” He’s nodding his head sagely at Ryan. “But once we know whose mark that is, we can get a good idea of age and then perhaps open the barrel and have a look inside. Maybe do a cask draw.” He makes a scooping motion.

“I’ll let your grandad tell you what that is. ”

Everyone is smiling. It’s the most thrilling thing to happen in years. Tommy comes and helps Jonno load the cask onto a barrow, then onto a buggy.

“I’ll show you where it needs to go, where no one will find it,” Daddy says as he gets into the buggy beside Tommy and Jonno climbs in the back with the cask.

“Now remember everyone, not a word to anyone else until we know what we have.” He looks around at us all and they pull off, Jonno hanging onto the cask for dear life.

I’m not quite sure how any of us are sitting at dinner so normally. Everyone is twitching, and bursts of manic laughter can be heard periodically. But there are other people at the table, not just family, so I steer the conversation away from a hidden whiskey barrel to other matters.

“We’re going to Dublin tomorrow for a pamper day,” I announce to the whole table once we’re all sat in the large dining room.

“Who’s we?” asks Mammy. “I can’t go, I’ve got a community meeting in Greystones Church. Maggie, you’re coming aren’t you?”

“Is that the one you both roll back out of? After trying out the local wine?” Daddy grins at her as she tries to tell us all that they have to be supportive of rural businesses.

“It’s fine, Mammy. Christy, Evie, and I are going.”

“Well how can you have a pamper day when you can’t even drink?” asks Maggie in amazement. “More for you, Christy,” she states enviously. Clearly Mammy and Maggie’s pamper days have a theme.

Christy hits back. “Unlike you and Mae, Mother, we don’t class a pamper day as guzzling prosecco until it comes out of our pores. We’re going to the hairdressers, and a bit of shopping. All very civilised.”

It goads my mother, who is looking at me like I’m mad. A pamper day and no prosecco, or champagne? It’s not the done thing.

“Are you taking the baby?” I ask Evie.

“Yes, I’ll have to. Is that okay? Valentina can come, she loves the hairdressers. She had an Indian head massage and fell asleep at the basin. I left her there for an hour last time.” She smiles appreciatively at her nanny.

“Jude’s coming,” Jonno informs us, his excitement undeniable. “He phoned me earlier. Shall I get him to meet you in Dublin? You can fetch him home with you.”

“Not another Greystone,” Liam the comedian pipes up. “ We’ll be at Greystone house soon, if you keep multiplying at this rate.” He laughs, but no one else does.

“Yep, just need Jackson and Jake. Maybe we’ll invite over the other Greystones, the Irish lot. Danny is it? Keep the numbers up.” The smirk is wiped from Liam's face as Jonno invokes the name of Danny Greystone.

Patrick chokes out a noise then states forcibly, “Don’t mention that man to me.

He’s a total pain. Wasn’t even here, but managed to block all our plans last year for a music festival in his field.

We’d run the numbers, the profits, the logistics, everything.

Told us to bleep off.” Patrick looks around at everyone, expecting sympathy.

Until Jonno can’t contain himself and clarifies, “He blocked your festival in his field?” He shakes his head trying to understand the implication and logic of that statement. “Did you not ask him first?”

“Well, it should actually be our field,” Liam hits us with.

“It’s a dispute, I looked into it. Some dispute from years ago.

It’s an O’Clery field and Seamus—your grandfather, Aoife—let the Greystones take it.

He should never have done that. So we decided to claim it back and make some money from it.

” He and Patrick look smugly at each other, as if the festival happened and they made oodles of cash.

“Oh my God, was it that festival? Didn’t the garda get involved? You nearly got arrested, didn't you Patrick, for trespassing.”

I’m trying not to laugh, but they’re totally absurd and ridiculous.

How could Patrick be stealing our money?

How can he be so clever, whilst being so thick?

It must be an act, a charade, making everyone think he is stupid.

No wonder Jonno thinks it’s me. Patrick—in fact, both he and Liam—couldn’t seem to run a bath, never mind a serious heist .

“Well, yes, but it was a misunderstanding and got sorted.”

He looks to Christy to say something nice about him, defend him, as she would always have done in the past. She just stares past him.

No words. His face falls and he’s practically starting to twitch.

Christy is going for it on the torture stakes, she might need to rein it in. But still I’m so proud of her.