Rían: (The O'Malleys Book 3)

by Michelle McLoughney

  “Are ye both off your heads? Did the feckin' cast of Twilight ride mobility scooters and have an average age of eighty?”

  Murph shook his head and scrunched up his face.

  “No I’m pretty sure they didn’t, except for the Volturi, maybe. They’re pretty old, I think.”

  “Tough family the Volturi, although, in fact all the vampires are old so they would probably have an average age of a few hundred years.” O’Farrell announced as though he were teaching a class.

  “But you’re right, Murph. Extraordinary creatures, vampires.”

  “Jesus Lads! Focus for feck sake!” Gearóid put his hands on his hips, then adjusted his cap, put his hands back on his hips and then adjusted his cap again and scratched his head some more. He whistled between his teeth softly.

  “Sweet mother Mary, her son Jesus and all the saints. What in the hell are they doing?”

  The men looked up the main street as a herd of seventeen pensioners slowly, slowly, made their way toward them. Granny O’Malley led the pack walking proudly in her raincoat and saint Anthony head scarf. Beside her was Maggie, as always looking fierce. Granny’s best friend Mrs O’Sullivan drove her mobility scooter complete with flashing headlights. Gearóid groaned and rubbed his nose anxiously.

  “Right Pa, you need to talk to the mother and find out what’s going on.”

  Pa raised his eyebrows and took a long smoke off his pipe, tapping the base of it with his palm.

  “Oh I do, do I? And what happened to your tongue brother dear?”

  Gearóid coughed lightly, the crowd of men silenced as they waited for an answer. “You’re the youngest Pa and obviously the favourite. She listens to you.”

  Pa rolled his eyes and clicked his jaw. “Ah would you feck off Gearóid. Jesus! All right I’ll ask them, but something tells me it’s not going to make a blind bit of difference what we say. They look like they’re on a mission.”

  As the old posse eventually made their way down the main street, the air grew tense, cold and quiet, like a scene from an old western.

  Stopping a few feet from the men granny nodded in their direction, while Maggie narrowed her eyes and the old one of the O’Sullivans frantically tried to find the off switch on her siren. Finally after searching for a few minutes Betty O’Donnell's cane smashed down on top of it knocking the siren off.

  “You’re welcome,” she said gruffly when all eyes turned toward her.

  Pa stepped forward his hands clenching and unclenching like a gunslinger. He pointed a shaky index finger in the general direction of the women.

  “Now mother, I’m not sure what’s brought this on, but I’m sure there’s no need to get everyone riled up. Would you ladies care for a sherry? Our treat.”

  The women stared at him, their eyes as cold and hard as marbles, Pa did his best not to be blown backwards with the force of the glares.

  “I’ll have a sherry.”

  A small voice rose from the back. The men looked on as Edie O’Riley manoeuvred her scooter out from the pack. Maggie put a hand up and Edie halted immediately.

  “Get back in line Edie, you’ll have a sherry when we’re finish our business with Grogan and not before.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind one now just to warm me up like.”

  “You’ll have one Edie, after. We all know how you like your sherry and I’m not pulling your scooter out of the fountain again.”

  Edie tried to stare Maggie out of it and then reversed loudly back into the sea of old women. Pa’s eyes widen as he watched Edie rev the engine of her mobility scooter annoyance flashed in her eyes. Jesus they had rattled the beast now!

  Jimmy one of Maggie’s sons stepped forward, his face solemn and his voice pleading.

  “Mother, Granny O’Malley, ladies of the community centre. How about I make a deal with you all? We will buy you all a sherry or wine spritzer or whatever you’d like, if you come in for a drink and stop this madness.”

  Maggie turned to him and seemed to be considering for a moment. “Jimmy I have a better deal for you.”

  Jimmy groaned, he’d heard his mother’s deals before and they never amounted to anymore than a kick up the arse for him.

  Maggie stood forward and faced the ladies.

  “Ladies, I will make a deal here tonight. I wiped Jimmy’s arse for three years when he was a baby. I swear it will be my pleasure to have Jimmy wipe mine in return when the time comes and I am no longer able. How’s that deal for you all?”

  The men stared opened mouthed while the old women clapped and tooted their horns. Gearóid slapped pa on the back and laughed.

  “Well I think that was fairly clear, mine’s a pint of the black stuff and a whiskey chaser. What’ll you be having yourself?” The men filed back into Nellie’s pub and Pa stared up the street as the women moved past them in pairs.

  Grogan was tired. Being a town counsellor was hard work. Non-stop streams of people wanting a new council house for their little Ann or Johnny, or a new stop sign on a level crossing or some other mind numbing shite. When he’d entered politics he thought he’d be changing the world. In reality he made no difference at all. He had become obsessed with Martin Luther King junior, now there was a man of the people, and the Kennedys of course. By Jesus none of them ever had a job as hard as his, the people of Kilvarna would grate on your last bloody nerve.

  His Mary was proud of him though, and that meant something to him. Grogan sighed as he settled down on his favourite coveted chair, complete with his own arse print from overuse. Chocolate biscuit in hand, toes toasting in front of the fire his newspaper poised and ready, and then the banging started. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Feckin hell what now? Mary came through the living room door looking anxious.

  “Grogan, there are people here to see you. They demand an immediate audience.”

  “Well tell them to come back, it’s nine o’ clock for heaven's sakes!”

  An immediate audience! Did you ever hear such shitery in all your life? Well, he’d give them an immediate audience with his boot! Cheek of it!

  Mary’s eyes widened. “It’s the old ones. The old community centre ladies!”

  Grogan slammed down his paper and struggled to put on his slippers, his hand slipping off the heel in temper. He pulled open the front door and opened his mouth to give his intended audience a lecture on calling to his door so late in the evening. Looking around at the sea of rosary beads, saint Anthony headscarves and imminent death he paused not sure what to do. His eyes landed on the old girl of the Mitchells. He’s been to her 90th birthday party last week, and what she did to him when he leaned in for a kiss should have carried a prison sentence. She was wearing a long-sleeved top with faces of miniature mother Theresa’s on them and seemed to have forgotten to put a bra on under it. Grogan nearly puked into his mouth at the thought of what delights lay underneath. Old Mitchell caught his eyes and smiled toothless, like a predator before thrusting her boobs out proudly. Satan was alive and well and living in a 90-year-old great, great, grandmother. Grogan rubbed his hand over his eyes and face and turned to Granny O’Malley.

  “Ladies, to what do I owe this... um... pleasure at nine o’ Clock on a Friday night? The Late Late Show is on in thirty minutes.” Granny O’Malley stood forward.

  “Liam O’Brien has violated section 19 of the protected species code. He has shot dead three deer on my land that were protected in our natural habitat. I’d like his gun licence revoked immediately.”

  Grogan stared at her. “What?”

  “I said Liam-”

  Grogan raised his palm up. “I heard you, I just don’t know what you want me to do Siobhan. They’re only deer, and it is hunting season.” A gasp rang out and it took Grogan all of thirty seconds to figure out his mistake. Whispering started immediately. Did you hear that! He called her Siobhan, the little bollocks only a young fart of a thing. No respect….

  Grogan immediately backtracked. Respect was everything to this lot and any
one under 70 was an uppity young fart.

  “I mean Granny O’Malley. Mrs O’Malley. Please forgive me. It’s been a long day.”

  “I should think so!” A voice called out from the back. “Young strap.”

  Grogan tried his best to placate the crowd. “Look look! I’ll have a talk with O’Brien when he’s found and see what the story is okay.”

  “You value your position here Grogan and you’re a good counsellor. Do you know how many votes you won the last election by?”

  Grogan groaned and nodded. “Twenty.”

  “Do you know how many of us are here?” Grogan shook his head and did a quick head count and then groaned again as Maggie spoke.

  “Twenty seven, you might think on that Grogan. Think about how dangerous it is to have a renegade running around the county with a gun shooting deer in a protected area. It was no accident Grogan.”

  Grogan nodded, he wasn’t a complete eejit and O’Brien’s name had been mentioned to him already by some in the village. The man was becoming a loose cannon. No one had seen him in the week after the deer slaughter. He had already started the paperwork on the revoking of his gun licence but it wouldn’t do any harm for the old ones to think they had a victory on their hands. God help O’Brien if the O’Malley lad get his hands on him.

  “Fair enough ladies, I’ll revoke it.” He jumped back suddenly when Edie revved her scooter and drove passed him as quickly as she could.

  “Sherry,” she shouted. Granny O’Malley and Maggie eyed each other and nodded at Grogan.

  “Thank you kindly councillor.”

  “My pleasure,” he said shutting the door, he leaned against the frame and shook his head. Fuck. My. Life.

  It’s for her own good that the cat purrs

  -Irish Saying

  Liadh sang as she tidied the kitchen at Rían’s house. Her first evening alone in an age, Rían had eventually conceded that he would have to leave the house for supplies, and took off for Cherrytree Farm to check in with his parents. Bonnie was coming over so Liadh wasn’t left alone. Over cautious Rían. Liadh was pretty sure that Liam O’Brien wouldn’t be bothering them again. He had made his point and like all bullies his vitriol would fizzle out eventually. Excitement filled Liadh’s heart, there were things she needed to talk to Rían about. Burke had called her to talk about the practice a few days before. Doctor Phillips wasn’t coming back off maternity leave as quickly as planned, in fact she had decided to take a year out to stay at home with her new baby. The other doctors had decided to take on a new partner in her absence. Liadh had closed her eyes and smiled when Burke asked her to consider staying. Fate was trying its best to intervene. She’d still have to accept the offer on Rua Cottage to buy into the practice, but she was going to stay.

  Hearing the back door open, she called out to Bonnie.

  “In here Bon, I hope you brought croissants and …” Her voice stilted as she came face to face with Liam O’Brien. The first thing she saw was the shotgun and then his eyes. Cold and black, his lips were curved into a sneer, he spoke to her in a singsong voice. “Lovely little Liadh O’Neill. We meet again.”

  Rían’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Liadh’s car on the side of the road. Bonnie was standing beside it looking more than a bit pissed off. Rían pulled in and press down the electric window.

  “What happened,” he asked

  “Puncture happed,” she replied rolling her eyes. They grinned at each other and Bonnie sat into Rían car.

  “Where’s your mobile Bonnie? It’s not safe out here without one, not with that asshole roaming around.”

  “I left it in Darragh’s car.”

  “What is it doing in….oh…kay.”

  As they pulled into his driveway Rían spotted the house in darkness and his heart plummeted. Liadh always left a light on, she didn’t like to be alone in the dark, it reminded her too much of the night she had awoken coughing and choking from the black smoke that permeated through the darkness. It reminded her of everything she feared, the fire, the smell of burning flesh, the realization that it was her own body burning. He thumped the steering wheel. “Shit!”

  “Oh God,” shouted Bonnie as the scrambled out of the car door and into the house.

  “Liadh!” Rían bellowed.

  He looked at the open front door and immediately knew that O’Brien had been there. He could smell him, the stale stench of sweat lingered in the air and made him crinkle his nose.

  “Upstairs Bonnie, GO!” Bonnie nodded and took the stairs two by two as she screamed out Liadh’s name.

  “Liadh! Liadh! “Running through the house Rían breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no signs of a struggle. Stopping at the kitchen table his eyes took in the half dried cups and plates sitting on the draining board. Calm the fuck down Rían! Calm down and focus.

  Letting his eyes drift around the room they landed on an A4 sheet of paper on the dining room table. Picking up the note he tried and failed to keep his hand from shaking.

  Rían,

  I have decided to leave Kilvarna for a while. Please don’t follow me. I will be happier without you. I need a break for a while and will contact you and Bonnie in the future. I need this time.

  Goodbye,

  Liadh Mary O’Neill.

  Liadh Mary O’Neill. Rían took in the intentional clue left behind and thanked the heavens for Liadh’s foresight. He had known the minute he walked in that something was wrong, but her clear thinking might just keep her alive. Picking up the phone he rang Annie.

  “Yo bro,” she answered on the first ring.

  “O’Brien’s got Liadh, Ring Shay get him to meet us at my house. We need to search for her.”

  “How do you know it’s O’Brien. Maybe she’s...”

  “No! No Annie! Listen to me he has her, okay? She left a note and she signed her name wrong, she put Mary instead of Grace as her middle name. Just get Shay please!”

  “Consider it done. I know where he is, I’ll have him there in twenty minutes, hold tight Rí. We’ll find her. We’ll bring her home.”

  Rían hung up as Bonnie ran back down the stairs. “He has her doesn’t he?”

  Rían nodded and handed Bonnie a knife.

  “Hold this while I go to the garage, just in case. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting my gun and then I’m getting Liadh back.”

  Rían turned the handle on the door and called back to Bonnie.

  “Call my parents and then Darragh, Bonnie. Get him to meet us here.” Bonnie nodded her face ashen and her eyes filled with tears.

  “She’ll be okay. Won’t she Rían?” Rían crossed the kitchen and hugged her tightly. “She’ll be fine Bonnie. I’ll kill him before I’ll let him hurt her.” Feeling Bonnie sigh against him, he knew he was reassuring himself as much as her. He meant every word of it though, he would kill O’Brien rather than let him get away with hurting Liadh.

  As the old cock crows,

  the young cock learns

  -Irish Proverb

  Granny O’Malley paced up and down the kitchen in Cherry tree farm. The last letter that her friend Caoimhe O’Neill had sent her had been a sombre affair. Caoimhe was dying, she didn’t have long left, a few months maybe. Keep Liadh safe. Keep my Liadh safe. Caoimhe had entrusted her most precious belong to Granny O’Malley, her daughter. I will not break a promise.

  “It’ll be all right mother, she’ll be found safe and well.” Gearóid put his hand on his mother’s shoulder and she patted it in return.

  “Of course she will son. I think I’ll have a lie down.”

  “You do that mammy, I’ll call you if there is news.”

  Granny rose up from her chair and walked to the kitchen door. As she left the room she caught Aoife’s eye and motioned towards the door. Aoife nodded and followed her grandmother out to the conservatory where they slipped off together into the night.

  “What are we doing?” Aoife asked, her voice
a mixture of worry and excitement. No one ever included her in stuff like this. Always overprotected because of her childhood illness, Aoife felt as though she had watched the world and its adventures from her window ledge.

  Granny put her finger to her lips as they passed the windows of the kitchen silently and entered the outside garage. Granny took a key out of her apron and unlocked the gunroom.

  “Holy shit! Sorry! I mean what exactly are we doing Granny?”

  “We are protecting ourselves Aoife. Do you remember when I taught you how to shoot a shotgun all those years ago?”

  Aoife nodded quickly.

  “Good. My hands aren’t steady enough anymore. But, you won’t need to, we’ll just take it in case.” Granny picked up two of the ash Hurleys and banged them together. The sound of wood hitting wood vibrated around the small room. Granny pointed at a poster of Annie Oakley that hung on the wall of the gunroom and read the caption aloud.

  “I ain’t afraid to love a man. I ain’t afraid to shoot one either.”

  Aoife stared at the picture and nodded at her Granny.

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that Aoife.”

  “Where are we going?” Aoife asked as they made there way down the lane in the direction of the woods.

  “There’s a cabin, near the waterfalls. It’s disused but I’ve seen Rían and Liadh hanging around there. If I’ve seen them, O’Brien has too. We’ll just check and if he’s there we’ll ring the lads, okay child? I just want to be sure before I drag them in the wrong direction.”

  Wild women make for endless days and sleepless nights

  -Irish Saying

  Annie flung open the doors of the Bunratty castle hotel. Nodding at various members of the guards that she was acquainted with it, didn’t take her long to spot Seamus at the bar. Even with his back turned to her she knew his form immediately. He turned slowly and bent his head to listen to the woman beside him. Sheila O’Hagan, Jesus Christ has the man no dignity. Annie raised her eyes to heaven and clicked her tongue. Sheila was a complete bitch. Now, now Annie, don’t be nasty. Feck off! She shook her head, forget about it, and don’t even go there. Holding her head high she moved through the crowd ignoring the curious glances and eyeballing of her attire. Annie refused to look away, refused to bow to any of them, although in fairness even she could get a whiff of cow shite mingling with the expensive perfume that wafted around the hall. Whisper away feckers, this bitch is unbreakable. As she reach Seamus she waited until he had stopped gawking and creasing his forehead.