Page 183 of The Missing Sister

‘White wine would be perfect,’ I said.

‘Right then, Merry, I’ll be having one too,’ said Sinéad. ‘Beer, John?’

John nodded as he sat down, hardly able to take his eyes off me. Sinéad brought the beers and two glasses of wine to the table.

‘To my missing sister, safely returned.Sláinte!’ said John.

‘Sláinte!’ we toasted, as Mary-Kate frowned.

‘It’s the word for “cheers” here,’ I told her as we all took a sip.

‘Don’t tell me your mammy hasn’t been educating you in the Irish ways,’ John said to my daughter.

‘She never said much about her childhood until recently,’ Jack said. ‘All we knew was that she went to university in Dublin.’

John paused for a moment, then looked at me before he answered. ‘Sometimes ’tis better not to dwell on the past too much, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ I said gratefully.

‘So now, tell me about your life in New Zealand. Plenty of sheep there, I’ve heard?’ he said. ‘Not as good for the milk as cows, mind,’ he added with a wink at Jack. ‘Have you a husband? Where is he?’

I hardly ate a mouthful of the delicious beef stew as John and Sinéad fired questions at all three of us. My kids did me proud, sometimes answering for me when they sensed I was overwhelmed.

After a homemade chocolate cake with cream was offered for dessert, and Sinéad was chatting to Mary-Kate and Jack, I leant over to John.

‘How’s Katie? Do you see much of her?’

‘Ah, she’s busy working up at the Clonakilty old folks’ place. She cares for the old people around these parts that have dementia or can’t cope in their own homes.’

‘She has a husband?’

‘She does, so. Connor was in construction and when the Celtic Tiger began to roar here in Ireland and the boom came, he made a good deal of money, that’s for sure. He’s retired now, sold up his firm. And lucky for him he did, what with the recession starting here. I’d be saying some of the lads that went on to work for the new boss will find themselves out of a job soon enough,’ John sighed.

‘The economy’s not good here?’

‘No. There’s been a big downturn in building round these parts during the last few months. You know, I’d look at Connor sometimes, with the big smart house he built for himself and Katie, and the summer holidays they took to Tenerife, and I’d wonder what I was doing up at five every morning to sort the cows. The good news about my animals and their meat and milk is that the world continues to need them, whatever’s happening in those stock market places.’

‘Have you expanded the farm since I was last here?’

‘We have indeed. Do you remember our neighbours, the O’Hanlons, who owned the few acres next door to us?’

‘I do, of course.’

‘Well, he was old and wanted to sell up, so I bought the land.’

‘What about Daddy? Sinéad didn’t say when I asked, so...’

‘Ah now, I’m sure it won’t be a surprise to you to learn that the drink got him eventually. He died in eighty-five. He’s buried with Mammy and the rest of our family in Timoleague graveyard. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you.’

‘Don’t be, John. It was me who left, and it was you that had to pick up the pieces here. You were virtually running the farm by the time you were sixteen.’

‘I can’t lie and tell you it wasn’t hard, but it hasn’t been a bad life, Merry. Me and Sinéad are happy, so. We’ve all we want and need, and have our family around us.’

‘I’m desperate to see Katie, and, of course, the rest of the family. Could you give me Katie’s number so I can call her?’

‘I can, and once she’s over the shock, sure, she’ll be delighted to see you. How long are you thinking of staying?’ he asked.

‘A few days, or maybe longer... I haven’t got any definite plans.’