Page 179 of The Missing Sister

I looked over at the stainless-steel replica of a Model T car, standing on a plinth just across a lane from the Henry Ford pub. It was a lane I knew well, for further on, it would eventually bring us to our own farm.

‘So now, we’re heading into Clonakilty,’ said Niall. ‘If you’ve not been here for a good few years, Merry, I think you’ll spot some changes. We’ve a new industrial park with a cinema, and a sports centre with a swimming pool these days. O’course, Clonakilty is most famous for being the nearest town to Michael Collins’s homeplace.’

‘Michael who?’ said Jack.

‘Is he a film star?’ Mary-Kate asked. ‘I’m sure I read somewhere about him being in something.’

‘Ah now, I think you mean you read of a filmabouthim,’ Niall corrected my daughter. ‘The young ones don’t know their history these days, do they, Merry?’

‘To be fair, they were both brought up in New Zealand,’ I interjected. ‘What happened here and who Michael Collins was didn’t really feature in their history lessons.’

‘And you’re telling me that you were born here and never told your small ones about the Big Fellow?’

‘To be honest, Niall, Mum didn’t tell us much about anything to do with her childhood,’ said Jack.

‘Well, I’ll be tellin’ you that Michael Collins was one of the greatest heroes Ireland has ever bred,’ Niall said. ‘He led us towards independence from the British and...’

Welcome home, Merry, I thought, as we turned off towards Inchydoney and I let Niall’s history of Michael Collins wash over me.

Five minutes later, Niall pulled the car to a halt in front of the entrance to the Inchydoney Lodge.

‘Now, Merry, what do you think of this?’ he asked as he got out of the taxi and the three of us opened our doors too. ‘I bet you’re remembering that old shack that used to be here when you were a girl.’

‘Yes, I am,’ I agreed, as I admired the big, smart hotel, then turned to face the magnificent stretch of white sandy beach with the waves crashing onto it and felt the wind whip through my hair. I took in a lungful of fresh, pure, West Cork air, smelling its unique scent of sea and cow.

‘So what will you be doing for transport whilst you’re here?’ Niall asked as I paid him in euros, rather than the shillings I’d so carefully counted when I was growing up.

‘I’ll rent a car,’ I said. ‘Where would be the nearest place?’

‘’Tis Cork airport – you should have mentioned it and we could have sorted it out on our way here. Never mind, I can help you until you get your own,’ Niall said as he picked up my holdall and we all walked into the lobby.

‘This is stylish,’ Jack said as he looked around the spacious, modern reception area. ‘I was expecting something beamed, like a farmhouse, y’know?’

We checked in, with Niall chatting away to the staff behind reception, who gave me the number of a hire car company based at the airport.

‘Sure, I can be taking you back there early tomorrow morning. Just give me a call,’ said Niall. ‘Anything else you need, you have my number. I’ll be seeing ye,’ he said with a wave as he walked off.

‘Everyone’s so friendly here, Mum. Was it always like this?’ Mary-Kate asked me as we followed the porter to the lift.

‘I suppose so, yes, but it was different for me living here. We were all more worried about what everyone was saying aboutus.’

‘Well, they’re certainly chatty,’ said Jack as we walked along yet another hotel corridor.

‘Here now,’ said the porter, taking us into a room still flooded with soft, early evening light from the glass sliding doors, which led onto a small balcony. ‘You’ve a grand view of the ocean.’

‘Thank you,’ I said as I tipped him. ‘You can leave the rucksacks in here.’

‘Anyone for a cup of tea?’ I asked my children when he’d left.

‘It’s almost eight, so more beer time for me, thanks, Mum,’ said Jack.

‘I could kill for one too,’ agreed Mary-Kate.

‘Then let’s treat ourselves to room service, shall we? We can sit out on the little balcony and enjoy a sundowner,’ I suggested as I walked towards the phone.

‘Why don’t you sit down, Mum? I’ll get the drinks in,’ said Jack.

‘What number hotel is this one, Mum?’ Mary-Kate asked me as we slid the door open to the large balcony.