Page 20 of The Widow’s Irish Secret (Magnolia Manor #4)

‘You mean a place you wouldn’t want to be seen dead at? I could see you enjoyed yourself, though.’

‘It was fun, actually. And nobody seemed to take it seriously. I didn’t meet anyone who seemed sad at all. Maybe a little lonely but that goes with getting older, I think.’

‘Are you sad and lonely?’ Cillian asked, studying her.

Tricia shrugged. ‘Sure, I’m sad sometimes.

I miss Fred and I miss Sean, my second husband too.

He was a lovely man, you know. I found it hard to lose him and to find myself all alone.

But I’m not as lonely here as I was in Dublin.

Now I have my girls and my grandchildren and Sylvia and Nora and a few friends, both old and new.

Life is easier and a lot more fun because of them. ’

‘That seems to make you strong, too,’ Cillian said. ‘A real challenge for any man who might be interested in knowing you better.’

‘Why would that be a challenge?’ Tricia asked, beginning to enjoy the admiration in his eyes. ‘Are strong women some kind of threat?’

‘No but they’re very hard to impress.’

‘We’re a lot more demanding than before, of course,’ Tricia agreed.

‘It takes a strong man to take on the modern woman.’ She returned his probing look with one of her own, challenging him to respond.

She knew he was flirting with her and she was secretly enjoying it.

He was very attractive and there was a new vibe between them that had nothing to do with old memories.

What am I doing? she asked herself. I must stop leading him on, even though this flirting is fun.

It makes me feel young and attractive again but I can’t let him think I’m interested in starting anything.

I’m done with all of that. ‘I’m only joking,’ she said to break the tension.

‘You don’t need to impress me. We’re just old friends meeting up again after many years. ’

‘Of course we are.’ Cillian finished his sandwich and drained his bottle of beer. ‘But enough of this banter. I’d like to see more of this house.’

‘You’ve seen most of it.’

‘Not upstairs. What’s up there?’

‘Just a room that I think was either a bedroom or just used for storage. There’s a nice view of the bay from the little window. But it seems to have some kind of history.’ Tricia got up from the chair. ‘I was actually hoping you could help me find out more about the people who built this house.’

‘That sounds interesting.’ Cillian handed Tricia the wrapper from his sandwich and got up.

‘I have coffee and muffins but we can have that later,’ Tricia said as she tidied away the remains of their picnic.

‘Okay. Let’s go upstairs. It’s such a great little house so I want to see every nook and cranny.’

‘It’s a true gem,’ Tricia agreed. ‘I want to make it come alive again and be a real home.’

‘I think you will,’ Cillian said as they walked into the house. ‘It’s as if it’s been waiting for you.’

Tricia smiled, happy that he felt the same way she did.

It was comforting to be together like this, chatting and joking like in the old days.

It’s true what they say , she thought. Real friends can be apart for a long time and then be just as close when they meet again.

Cillian didn’t seem resentful of the way she had drifted away the last time they met; at least he hadn’t mentioned it.

Tricia decided to leave it alone and not try to apologise.

If he truly understood, there was no need to bring it up.

She caught up with him at the top of the stairs and followed him to the window, the floorboards creaking as they walked.

Cillian opened the small window and looked out. ‘That’s a lovely view. It would be even better in the winter when the trees are bare.’

‘Yes, probably,’ Tricia agreed. ‘I didn’t think of that. I’m going to put some kind of window seat here so I can look out and see what’s going on out there.’

Cillian didn’t reply, but kept looking through the window. ‘I had no idea it was possible to see the whole bay from here,’ he muttered as if to himself.

‘Neither did I,’ Tricia said. ‘I didn’t even know the cottage had an upstairs until I got the keys and went up here.’

He turned to look at her, and she joined him by the window. She suddenly remembered the divers she had spotted. ‘I saw a boat out there the other day and a diver getting into the water. Ted said it had to be some kind of marine survey.’

‘Who’s Ted?’ Cillian asked.

‘The retired builder who is going to restore the cottage. Dominic gave me his name.’ Tricia smiled as she thought of Ted. ‘Not that retired, as a matter of fact. He’s doing building work as a hobby now. He seems keen to do this house.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Cillian remarked. ‘If I were a builder, I’d be very keen to turn this house into a home again.’ He turned back to the view. ‘So you saw divers out there?’

‘Just the one person getting in the water. But I’m guessing Ted was right. This area has a marine wildlife that’s quite unique.’

‘Very true. I’d say it would be teeming with marine life of all kinds.’ Cillian looked around the room. ‘This would be a nice bedroom, or even a little sitting room eventually. So what made you interested in the house’s history?’

‘I found these little drawings.’ Tricia went to the wardrobe and opened it. ‘In here.’ She found the folder and took out the two drawings, handling them with care. ‘They’re very old, so don’t touch them.’

Cillian looked at the drawings as Tricia held them up one by one.

‘Amazing.’ When she showed him the sketch of the ship, his eyes widened and he leaned forward gazing at it as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

‘ S.S. Carmen …’ he mumbled, touching the drawing with the tip of his finger. ‘A sailing ship with goods from Spain…’

‘Yes.’ Tricia closed the folder, wondering why he was suddenly so pale. ‘Seen through the eyes of a child who must have looked through the window over there and watched it arrive.’

‘Over a hundred and fifty years ago…’ Cillian looked as if he had seen a ghost. ‘It’s nearly spooky. And…’ He stopped.

‘And what?’ Tricia asked, intrigued. He had looked shaken as he read the caption of the drawing. And seemed to be about to say something but then held back.

Cillian looked away. ‘Nothing. I was just so taken with the drawing. Like a message from the past. And then that name… Kieran.’

‘Wasn’t there an artist called Kieran O’Grady?’ Tricia asked, as a thought suddenly hit her. ‘The one whose work hangs in the National Gallery in Dublin?’ Tricia kept looking at Cillian as it dawned on her what it could mean. ‘This drawing might be worth a lot of money then, do you think?’

‘Possibly,’ Cillian said, still looking uncomfortable.

Tricia suddenly felt awkward for mentioning money.

Cillian had spent his life preserving the past, and he obviously valued that over everything else.

He had always been so passionate about his work, she remembered that from his studies, poring over textbooks late into the evening, and talking about old letters and ornaments he was working with when they spent time together in Dublin.

She wouldn’t normally think about selling a piece of Kerry’s history. But she might need to hire a good lawyer to help defend her if Sean’s family acted on their threats. All the problems she had left behind in Donegal would one day come to the surface. This could be the lifeline she needed.

She watched Cillian, in deep thought, all the memories of the past months suddenly flooding back into her mind like a recurring nightmare.

Sean had left her everything, but Terence had made it clear he contested the will. He had accused Tricia of manipulating Sean during his last few months, making him sign a codicil that gave her a larger slice of his estate than she was entitled to.

‘Sean was confused and borderline demented,’ Terence had stated.

None of this was true, but she had no way of proving her innocence.

Sean had been perfectly sane when he signed the papers and had been adamant that this was what he wanted.

The fact that he had made her executor of the will was an added problem, the nephew maintained, telling everyone in the neighbourhood about his suspicions.

There had even been a few articles about the case in the local press, mentioning Tricia and her assumed wrongdoings in a very accusatory way.

That was why she had needed to flee Dublin.

It was all nonsense and she would have dismissed it as such if it hadn’t been for a letter from her solicitor.

It wasn’t about the codicil to the will but about a document she had presented to the bank that proved to be ‘borderline illegal’, as Terence had put it.

If this came out, it would add further fuel to the flames of the gossip, he had warned her.

She had thought she could make a profit on the house, but with the work it needed, that didn’t feel like it would happen anytime soon.

If this little drawing turned out to be the early work of a famous artist, it could set her up for life if she sold it.

And she could simply tell Terence to keep Sean’s whole estate.

She could wash her hands of the whole thing. And protect her family.

She looked again at Cillian as all these thoughts raced through her mind. How could she tell him how much she needed the money? That she might have to put her own needs first? She opened the folder again and looked at the drawings. ‘Could be very valuable,’ she mumbled to herself.

‘Maybe. But don’t show that drawing to anyone for the moment,’ Cillian said with an odd look in his eyes. ‘Promise me you won’t.’

‘Of course,’ Tricia replied. She looked at him and wondered what was going through his mind. He seemed desperate to leave, suddenly jittery and nervous, his fingers tapping on the windowsill. What was it about the drawing that had shocked him so much?