by Maggie Finn
Molly looked away, biting her lip. She wanted to believe it – she wanted to believe that Sean was trying to help his family or had simply made a stupid thoughtless mistake – but she had felt so let down, so humiliated up there in the WestTec office. She supposed it had felt like such a body blow because she had convinced herself that Sean was everything she had ever wanted in a man. But maybe he simply wasn’t. Everyone let you down in the end, didn’t they? Well, not everyone. She looked back toward the café; today, Clover Cove was filled with love and friendship, so she couldn’t think too negatively. Not even with those black clouds overhead. Father Dec seemed to read her mind.
‘Have faith, Molly Maguire,’ he said. ‘The Lord will provide.’ He looked at the gathering dark sky. ‘And if he doesn’t, I’m just now going back to the church hall to fire up the tea urn. Raff’s free sandwiches won’t go to waste.’
Molly’s eye opened wide. ‘Oh no,’ she gasped. ‘I forgot. I totally forgot!’
‘Forgot what?
‘The free sandwiches!’
She rushed back inside where Audra was now directing Danny who, perched at the top of his ladder, was just placing the last of the cupcakes in a giant pyramid.
‘Ma!’ called Molly, ‘I need you!’
Audra smiled. ‘See? I knew she couldn’t do this without me.’ She clattered across, her clogs clopping on the floorboards, and held up her be-ringed fingers. ‘Direct me,’ she said.
It turned out the Audra was perfectly at home slicing loaves – thank heavens I baked extra, thought Molly – and knocking out red cheese sandwiches. She’d done it plenty of times in her activist days, keeping the troops on the picket lines. ‘Waving placards was hungry work,’ she said. As soon as Audra had filled a tray, Molly covered them with a cloth and ran out of the café carrying them at her shoulder like a costermonger, heading for the pub. Obviously, she wanted any punters to visit the café and buy cakes and tea and stew, but Raff had promised the sandwiches and Molly wasn’t going to disappoint anyone. And she didn’t begrudge anyone in Connor’s a free snack; everyone in the village had pulled their weight. They deserved a cheese sandwich at the very least.
Just as she turned into the village square, Molly flinched and looked up. She had felt the first spot of rain drop onto her neck. And then came another. And another. The sky was dark grey, the light sinking.
‘Oh no,’ she whispered, running for the pub, thumping through the door.
‘Ryan!’ she called as she crossed the bar, dumping the tray on the counter. ‘Raff’s free sandwiches in case anyone gets lost. Don’t let him eat them all.’
Ryan flashed his movie-star smile at her.
‘How’s it looking down there, Moll?’
‘Like the sky’s about to fall in,’ she replied breathlessly, and ran for the door. Across the square, fat droplets were already pocking the concrete and by the time she hit the cobbles of the lane, the rain was coming down in earnest, soaking her shirt, sticking it to her back. ‘No, no, no,’ Molly mumbled as she ran and as if in answer, a rumble of thunder unfurled itself, making her squeal and hunch her shoulders. She ducked under the archways Raff had so kindly constructed, their leaves already nodding under the weight of the rain, skidding as she sprinted for the café door. Thumping inside, she fell into a chair, panting.
‘Heavens, child, what happened to you?’ asked Audra.
‘Can’t you hear? The storm’s come,’ gasped Molly. She saw the look of concern pass between Kate and Tessa.
‘Well, maybe it’s just a…’ Tessa began, but was interrupted as the café door blew open and slammed closed again. ‘…shower.’
‘Either way, we’d better get you out of that wet shirt,’ said Audra, taking Molly’s hand and, ignoring her protests, led her up the back stairs to her little flat.
‘Here, dry yourself off,’ said Audra, handing her daughter a fluffy towel. ‘It’s only a bit of rain. These things blow themselves out as soon as they start. Now, let’s get you a new shirt.’
Molly rubbed listlessly at her hair as Audra began sliding hangers across Molly’s little wardrobe. ‘No… no… too frumpy… heavens, what’s that?… Yes! Perfect!’ She threw a black V-neck jumper at Molly.
‘I can’t wear that,’ she said.
It was cashmere, the one extravagant thing Molly owned, bought in last year’s sales in a rare rush of devil-may-care.
‘Of course you can darling,’ said Audra firmly. ‘It still has the tags on so I know you’re saving it for a special occasion, and if this isn’t special, I don’t know what is.’
‘Special?’ said Molly, her voice cracking. ‘Have you looked outside? In ten minutes, that lane is going to be a river. It’s a disaster.’
‘Now come on,’ said Audra, crossing to sit next to Molly. ‘We won’t have any more of that kind of talk. This is Ireland, and it didn’t get to be the Emerald Isle without a lot of irrigation. And rain has formed our national character: we plug on and we keep smiling, because we know the rain doesn’t last forever.’
‘It doesn’t have to last forever, Ma!’ said Molly, ‘It just needs to scare off the few people who might have ventured out this afternoon.’
Audra looked as if she was about to say something, but stopped, shaking her head slightly.
‘What?’ asked Molly petulantly.
‘I was just going to say how proud of you I am.’
‘Proud? For screwing up?’
Audra barked out a laugh.
‘You haven’t screwed up, darling, quite the opposite. You’re a raging success by anyone’s standards.’
‘Success? I’m only doing this because the bank is about to repossess my home.’
‘Yes, but remember the bank can only repossess it because you have this café in the first place, because you dared to dream. You closed your eyes and pictured yourself sitting by the sea in a darling little cottage, serving delicious cakes to happy people – and look,’ Audra, made a sweeping gesture, her bangles chiming like bells. ‘Here it all is. You dreamed it into being. How magical is that?’
Molly sniffled out a reluctant laugh.
‘I can see where I get my optimism from. Only you could see bankruptcy as a fairy tale ending.’
Audra laughed and gathered Molly into a hug.
‘That’s my girl. So maybe you run out of money; well, so what? Look at what you’ve achieved today alone. Your shop is filled with beautiful flowers, the street is lined with twinkling trees, but best of all, you’ve inspired people. Clover Cove has come together to make this your big day. Now if that isn’t success, I don’t know what is.’
Molly nodded. ‘I suppose.’
‘No suppose about it,’ said Audra. ‘Now wipe your nose and put on that cashmere jumper. You need to look your best.’
Her mother paused, raising a finger.
‘…unless you were saving it for a date. Now that would put a different complexion on things.’
‘A date? No. Well, there might have been, but… it didn’t work out.’
‘A-ha! I thought so,’ said Audra, ‘And would his name be Sean, by any chance?’
Molly gasped. ‘How on earth did you know that?’
Audra danced across to Molly’s dressing table and plucked a card from where it had been wedged in the side of the mirror. Sean’s business card.
‘I have a special radar when it comes to men,’ she said, handing it to Molly. ‘WestTec, hmm? Impressive.’
‘Not you too? You’ve heard of them?’
Audra snorted, as if it were obvious.
‘Of course, WestTec are the top media consultants outside of London,’ she said Audra. ‘They do all the top names in Ireland. He’s probably loaded. But the important question is: is he handsome?’
Molly gave a smile. ‘Very. He’s a surfer.’
Audra sighed. ‘A surfer. You never see a fat surfer, do you? Or an ugly one, come to that. So what went wrong?’
‘Oh, the usual. Me.’
‘I’m sure that
’s not true.’
‘Really? Like I have a brilliant track record with men.’
Audra had of course been there during the whole Marcus debacle; her shoulder had been the one Molly had cried on and one of the worst side-effects of the break-up had been moving away from Dublin and away from her mother’s reassuring presence.
‘I liked Marcus, you know that,’ said Audra. ‘But just because you’ve failed at something in the past doesn’t mean you’re never going to succeed. If that were true, Bjorn Borg would have never made it past his first tennis match.’
‘Who’s Bjorn Borg?’
Audra barked out a laugh.
‘I can see you do have a lot to learn about men,’ said Audra, offering Molly her hand. ‘You’re lucky that your mother is something of an expert. However, first we have cakes to sell.’
Molly smiled gratefully. When she wasn’t being flaky, her mother was the best thing. She followed her down the stairs where Kate and Tessa were standing in the open doorway. ‘How’s it looking?’ asked Molly, re-fastening her apron.
‘Hard to say,’ said Kate, stepping back to let her see out into the lane. There was a solid sheet of grey water hammering down onto the cobbles. It was like standing inside a waterfall. You certainly couldn’t see more than five yards in any direction.
‘With it coming down this hard,’ said Danny from behind, ‘There’s a good chance it’s localized. Might not even be raining out on the coast road.’
Molly saw Tessa raise her eyebrows at him. Even by Molly’s standards, that was positive thinking on a grand scale. Danny shrugged sheepishly. ‘You never know.’
‘So what now, boss?’ said Kate.
Molly looked at them all, gathered in her beautiful café, ready to do whatever it took to make it a success for her, and she was overwhelmed with a feeling of love and happiness. Audra was right – anyone who had friends like this was a winner in life. And she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She clapped her hands.
‘Okay. Kate, make up a flask of tea. I know, I know, you’re American, but do your best. Danny, call around your media contacts, see if anyone’s on their way; if they are, tell them if they don’t hurry, the café will be swept into the sea. Tessa, keep up with the decorations and if the rain eases off, could you check none of the trees have blown over? Mum, can you slice up that lemon drizzle and put it in a basket?’
‘What are you going to do?’
Molly walked to her closet and pulled out a yellow sou’wester oil-skin.
‘I’m going to relieve Orla at the car-park and start handing out cake.’
‘Cake in a thunderstorm?’
‘Best time for it.’
And she stepped out into the rain.
Chapter Eighteen
Sean didn’t have much of a suitcase. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d packed many clothes. Not that he had a huge wardrobe if you left out the wetsuits and the various warm hoodies he’d amassed over the years. In the end, Sean had borrowed a case from Keith in the office. Sitting in the back of his VW, emptied of surfboards and clutter, the bag looked small and lonely.
‘Well, join the club,’ said Sean, reaching past the case for the bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way. He didn’t usually bring his mother anything when he visited; she didn’t remember where they’d come from and it upset her, made her think people were sneaking around at night. But today it felt right, it felt as though he should. Even if Ma wouldn’t notice when he left, he liked the idea of leaving something behind.
Elsie at reception buzzed him through and he walked slowly up to his mother’s room.
She was awake, sitting up in her chair by the window, gazing out at the garden. As Sean rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, Gilda O’Hea looked up. ‘Ah, Sean,’ she said, ‘It’s lovely to see you. And flowers too. You spoil me.’
Happiness filled Sean’s chest and he touched the wood again, offering up a silent prayer of thanks. On this, his last day, his mum was having a good day. It would have been too much to bear to see her struggling on top of the guilt of leaving.
Sean sat down next to her and patted his mum’s hand, trying not to notice how thin she had become.
‘So how’s things?’ she asked. ‘Your da tells me you’ve got a new job.’
‘That’s right, I’m moving up in the world.’
‘Congratulations Seany,’ she said warmly. ‘Does that mean we’ll be seeing more of you then?’
Sean managed a thin smile. ‘That’s right Mam, I’ll be over to see you as much as I can.’
They began to talk, Sean being careful to stick to the old days. His mum’s memories were much clearer on the distant past, especially when he and Caroline were younger.
‘Oh, she was such a nerd, your sister,’ laughed Gilda, ‘Such a teacher’s pet, always determined to get the highest marks in class.’
‘Well, that’s no big surprise,’ said Sean. ‘That’s what she’s like now. Drives me mad.’
‘Ah, but back then, you wanted to be just like her,’ continued his mother. ‘Always wanting to follow in her footsteps.’
‘Really?’ Sean hadn’t remembered Caroline as a student. He supposed he chose to remember Caroline as the wild child with beads in her hair because that’s when she had seemed happiest.
‘I always used to wish I had her bravery, I remember that much,’ he said. ‘She seemed so, well, fearless, going off to all those exotic places on her own. I wouldn’t go down to the paper shop without someone holding my hand.’
‘She was always making things happen, that’s true.’
‘That’s what I love about her now, too,’ said Sean. ‘I know she’s had her own problems, but I’m so proud of how Lino’s kept the company together over the past few years.’
Gilda’s brow creased and her eyes lost focus.
‘Caroline?’ she said, ‘But she’s on her gap year right now. I had a postcard from her from – where was it, that Indian island? Goa, is it? – only the other day.’
Sean squeezed her hand.
‘Yes, you’re right. And she’s having a ball out there.’
Gilda smiled.
‘So tell me about your new girl,’ she said suddenly.
‘Girl?’ For a moment, Sean thought this was another of his mother’s misfiring memories, but then Gilda pointed to a copy of the Examiner lying on the table.
‘Don’t be coy, Caroline told me everything. Molly, is it? I saw her picture in the paper. Pretty girl, are you going to bring her to meet me?’
He shifted uncomfortably.
‘It’s not that simple, Mam.’
She looked at him with shrewd eyes. Back when he was a little boy, he’d never been able to get anything past her.
‘It’s always that simple, Sean,’ she said firmly. ‘If it’s not simple, then it’s not right.’
Sean paused for a moment, then reminded himself that by this evening, his mother would have forgotten this conversation ever happened. And for once, that felt okay, in fact in a weird way it was a blessing: Sean could tell someone how he really felt without worrying about the consequences.
‘I thought she was the one, Mam,’ he began haltingly, ‘In fact, I still do. I mean, I don’t even know her that well, but when I’m with her, she makes me feel… whole.’
Gilda chuckled, nodding.
‘That’s just how I felt about your da, right from the very start, wanting to be with him, wanting to do everything together, in fact that feeling that if he wasn’t there, whatever you were doing wasn’t quite as good.’
‘Yes!’ said Sean, turning to face her. ‘That’s it! That’s how I feel. She’s funny and beautiful and clever and all that, but when she’s there, I just feel more… me.’
He looked into his mother’s eyes.
‘Does that make any sense?’
Gilda leant forward and kissed him softly on the forehead.
‘You look after her, Seany. Love like that is rare.’
‘B
ut I – I think I might already have ruined it, Mam,’ he began, but was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. Sean wriggled his phone out and looked down at the screen – and jumped up.
‘Sorry Mum,’ he said quickly. ‘I have to go. I have to help a friend.’
‘That’s fine, lovey,’ she smiled, patting his hand. ‘You come back tomorrow, okay?’
Sean paused, torn. ‘Mam, I might not…’ he began, ‘I’m leaving tonight…’
‘But he’ll be back, don’t worry.’
Sean turned at the words: Caroline was standing in the doorway, so was their father. How long had they been there? He thought with a jolt. How much had they heard?
‘Caroline, darling!’ cried Gilda. ‘You’re here! Sean just told me you were in India or somewhere.’
‘Sean’s idea of a joke,’ said Aiden, walking across and laying a protective hand on his wife’s shoulder.
Gilda wagged an affectionate finger at Sean. ‘You kids, always keep me on my toes.’
‘Didn’t you have to be somewhere?’ said Caroline, tapping her watch meaningfully.
‘I’ll make the flight, don’t worry,’ he said in a low voice, then turned to embrace their mother, squeezing her as tightly as he could. As he pulled away, Gilda met his eye and her gaze was clear and strong.
‘You live your life however you want, Sean,’ she said. ‘Because if you’re not happy, you’re not living.’
Sean nodded and looked out of the window. A storm was gathering. He hoped it wasn’t an omen.
Chapter Nineteen
Molly sat on the bench outside the café, droplets of rain plopping off the rim of her hood. Her feet were squelching in her shoes, and the bottom of her apron, having poked out below her raincoat, was sodden. Still, there was no denying that the lane up to the square looked lovely. The storm had finally passed and a yellow sun was peeking through the clouds, making the grey cobbles shine like dull silver. Ahead of her, next to Tessa’s studio, Danny was up his ladder again, fixing the ivy-wrapped archway which had been blown sideways in the sudden squall and Audra was handing up the tools. Ryan was swooshing down toward her with a wide broom, clearing the debris – flower heads, sodden leaves, chunks of moss washed from roofs – from the street and into the running gutters.
