The Summer of Serendipity: The magical feel good perfect holiday read

by Ali McNamara

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask Finn as he leads Alfie out of his stable. ‘Are you going for a ride?’

  ‘Nope, we’re going for a ride – a moonlight one.’

  ‘We are?’

  ‘If you remember, I did promise to take you riding one day. But what I have planned for tonight is going to be so much better.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s why you told me not to dress up and to wear jeans. I thought it was odd.’

  ‘I bet you thought more than that. I bet this has been killing you, not knowing what we were going to do.’

  ‘A little.’ I try to sound cool and relaxed but I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

  Finn looks me up and down. ‘You’re dressed perfectly – we don’t even need to find you boots. But you do need a hat,’ he says, ‘so pop on over to the tack room and choose one that fits.’

  I hurry over to choose my riding hat, excited at the prospect of whatever Finn has planned. Last night we’d sat by the fire and talked and talked until Finn had to go back to the hotel. He hadn’t told me much more about himself, but he’d promised he would, as soon as the ‘something’ he had in mind was arranged. I’d expected him to cook me dinner, or book a table at a restaurant; I never would have dreamt he’d take me on a moonlight ride. I’m eager to hear what Finn is going to tell me too. He was so supportive when I told him my story that I haven’t regretted sharing it at all; now I want to give him the same kind of help when he shares the secret that I’m convinced has been burdening him.

  It takes a while but I manage to find a hat – actually it looks more like a helmet – that fits, and I fix the strap under my chin. I glance at my reflection in the window of Mac’s office as I pass by; I don’t exactly resemble one of the elegant show jumpers with their velvet riding hats I’ve seen on TV. The helmet looks like a large pink egg on my head, but it’s there to keep me protected, so I try not to think too much about what I look like as I return to Finn and Mac. Alfie has now been joined by another horse I recognise: Finn’s favourite mount – Trixie.

  ‘Will I be riding Alfie?’ I ask, looking up at the huge black horse who suddenly seems much bigger now I might be expected to ride him.

  ‘You will indeed,’ Finn says, patting him. ‘Don’t worry, though: Alfie is very calm. He’s our best plodder, he won’t mess you around. He’ll follow whatever Trixie and I do.’

  ‘Oh, OK. Good boy, Alfie.’ I stroke his neck and he turns his head towards mine.

  ‘Right, shall we head out?’ Finn asks, swinging himself confidently up on to Trixie’s back.

  ‘Sure.’ I look up hesitantly at Alfie’s saddle.

  ‘Do you want a box so you can mount him?’ Mac asks. ‘It might make it a little easier.’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine,’ I say, putting my right foot into the stirrup.

  ‘It’s your other foot,’ Mac whispers. ‘Your left one. You swing your right leg up and over.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’ I glance at Finn, but he’s busy controlling Trixie, who is obviously ready to get going as soon as possible. So I change my foot over, and with as much effort as I can muster I try to pull myself high enough to swing my leg over Alfie’s back. To my, and I think Finn and Mac’s surprise, I manage it first time.

  ‘Well done,’ Mac says. ‘Now do you know what you’re doing up there?’

  My hesitation is enough for Mac, who quickly runs through all the basics for controlling Alfie. ‘But you’ll be fine,’ he concludes. ‘Finn will look after you, and Alfie will follow Finn.’

  ‘Ready to ride?’ Finn asks, pulling on Trixie’s reins to guide her out of the stable yard.

  ‘Yes,’ I squeak, trying to do the same to Alfie.

  ‘Give him a good tap with your heels,’ Mac calls. ‘Let him know who’s boss.’

  I do as he says and Alfie follows Trixie towards the open gate.

  But as we ride out of the stable I’m pretty sure that Alfie knows exactly who’s in charge right now – and it certainly isn’t me.

  By the time Finn has led us out through Ballykiltara Park where I’d walked, and then ridden, a couple of days ago, and on into the woods, it’s starting to get very dark.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask Finn, as Alfie decides it would be nice to ride alongside his stable mate rather than behind her.

  ‘Somewhere special,’ Finn replies. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘Good, thanks. It was a bit touch and go to begin with, but Alfie and I seem to have come to an understanding now, and I’m actually starting to enjoy it.’

  ‘Excellent. Not too much further and then we can stop.’

  After another ten or so minutes in the saddle we emerge from the woods to suddenly and quite dramatically find ourselves in front of a huge lake, eerily, yet magically lit by a bright and clear full moon.

  ‘Where are we?’ I ask Finn.

  ‘This used to be called the secret lake,’ Finn says, dismounting from Trixie and guiding her to the edge of the water so she can take a drink. ‘Secret because it was so tucked away that hardly anyone knew it was here.’

  I try to do the same with Alfie, but my dismount is more of a slide off his back. Luckily Finn doesn’t seem to notice, and I take Alfie by his reins and lead him to the water.

  ‘You have to make an extra special effort to visit this lake,’ Finn continues, ‘not like the others, that you can see whizzing past on a tour bus with fifty other people. That’s what makes this one so special: not many people ever see it. I wanted you to be one of those that did.’

  I smile at him over the two horses.

  ‘We should tether them,’ Finn says. ‘I don’t think they’d wander too far, but I wouldn’t want to be stranded out here without them if they spooked and ran away.’

  ‘Why would they be spooked? It’s so calm here.’

  ‘Best if we tether them. I have rope.’ Finn reaches into one of the saddlebags that Trixie has been carrying.

  ‘I wondered what you had in there.’

  ‘Oh, I have more than just rope. Give me a minute.’ Finn takes hold of Alfie’s reins and leads him and Trixie back from the water a little way, then he tethers them loosely so they can wander around under some trees. Before he leaves them, he reaches into the bags and pulls out two picnic blankets, a flask and a small cool bag, and then he walks back to me.

  ‘Supplies!’ he says, spreading one of the blankets on the ground. ‘Madam?’ he gestures for me to sit on the blanket, so I do, then Finn sits down next to me so we’re facing the water. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he says, unbuckling his riding helmet.

  ‘It certainly is,’ I reply, doing the same. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

  ‘No, thank you for giving me another chance, I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘I think you do. This is perfect.’

  ‘Not yet, it isn’t,’ Finn says, lying down on his back.

  I look at him, puzzled.

  ‘Come and lie next to me,’ he says, patting the blanket.

  Hesitantly I do as he says.

  ‘Now look up,’ Finn instructs.

  The sight that greets my eyes is truly amazing – millions and millions of stars all sparkling brightly, jostling for position in the night sky above us.

  ‘Wow . . . ’ I say slowly, trying to take it all in. ‘This is incredible.’

  ‘I thought you might like it. Ever since you came up with the dark skies as a ruse to throw Donal off the scent, I’ve wanted to show you them for real. And the Irish weather, for once, was on my side tonight. That’s why we had to ride out so far – you have to be away from any light pollution to get the best experience.’

  ‘It’s absolutely spectacular, Finn. Thank you.’

  Finn drapes the other blanket on top of us, and silently we lie hand in hand on the blanket staring up at the universe together. It’s one of the most special, and most romantic things I’ve ever done.

  Eventually Finn sits up and looks down at me, still lying on the blanket.

  ‘This
was only part one of my plan,’ he says, ‘to amaze and astound you, and hopefully to let you know how special I think you are. This,’ he says sighing, ‘this was the easy part. Now I need to move on to part two.’

  ‘What’s part two?’

  ‘Honesty.’

  ‘Honesty?’

  ‘It’s time you knew the full story about me – the stuff I’ve tried to keep secret from you.’

  ‘Really?’ I sit up and pull the top blanket around me. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘But in return you must be honest with me too . . . ’

  ‘Of course.’ I swallow hard.

  ‘Right then . . . ’ Finn is obviously preparing himself. ‘The truth of the matter is . . . I’m a failure, Ren. A big fat failure.’

  ‘What? How can you be?’

  Finn waggles his finger at me. ‘No interruptions. Let me tell my story.’

  I nod silently.

  ‘I wasn’t always so. For a while, I had everything – a successful multimillion-euro business that I built from scratch. We had restaurants all over the world, and were expanding all the time.’

  ‘Wait, were you behind Cassidy’s?’ I exclaim, forgetting about my agreement. ‘The gourmet burger chain?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘But that was enormous a few years back – everywhere you went there would be one of those on the high street. I’ve eaten in them many a time.’

  Finn holds his finger to his lips.

  ‘Sorry,’ I apologise, ‘please continue.’

  ‘Like I said, I had everything I could ever have wanted – a business, the respect of my family . . . ’ he hesitates.

  I wait this time.

  ‘And then I blew it all.’

  ‘How?’ I ask when he doesn’t immediately continue. I’m finding it hard to believe that the Finn I’ve come to know could completely wreck his life, as he seemed to think he had, but I wanted to hear everything.

  ‘On a racehorse,’ Finn explains.

  ‘Celtic Cassidy!’ I exclaim.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, but how did you know?’

  ‘Something Mac said.’ I don’t mention the photos in his house. ‘But you loved that horse – didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. She was my pride and joy, and I ploughed a lot of money into her – too much. And when I didn’t have enough I borrowed money from the business. I was convinced she was going places. I had it all planned – the Irish National, the Grand National – I thought she’d earn that money back easily and then some, once she started winning. And she would have done, if she hadn’t got injured.’ Finn’s face clouds over. ‘I remember that day as if it was yesterday. It was an early May morning, it had been a miserable spring and it was bitterly cold. It was only a training session, the jumps weren’t even that high when she fell, but she landed in an awkward position and suffered a compound fracture . . . ’ His voice trails off.

  ‘Couldn’t they do anything?’

  Finn shakes his head. ‘Breaking a leg is an immediate death sentence for a horse. Their bones have evolved differently than ours; they’re lighter, they break easily, and they’re very, very difficult to mend – almost impossible, in fact, because of the complex healing process required if they’re to regain full strength. A dog who breaks his leg will hobble around on three legs, but a horse can’t because they spend nearly all their time standing. Believe me, it’s been tried, but a horse simply can’t keep its weight off the injured leg, and that leads to further, even more complex injuries. So that May morning – May eighth, to be exact – was the last time my beloved Cassidy ran, the last time she took a breath.’

  To my surprise, I see a tear rolling down Finn’s cheek. He turns away and rubs furiously at his face.

  I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away. ‘No, let me finish and then you can see if you still want to hold it.’ He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath. ‘After my horse had to be put down in front of me, I went a bit off the rails. Understandable at first, I guess . . . A few days to get myself back on track, that’s what everyone allowed me. They all thought I’d pull myself together, get back to being the old Finn. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t stop seeing the vision of Cassidy lying there on the cold, frosty ground. But I didn’t let it end there, did I? Oh no,’ he shakes his head. ‘I went off the rails for a year.’

  ‘Go on,’ I encourage softly, when he pauses again.

  ‘I frittered what little money I had left on drink – and gambled the rest away in casinos and private poker nights at my supposed friends’ houses,’ he says bitterly. ‘You’d think they would have been looking out for me, trying to steer me back on the right path, but no, they were more than happy to relieve me of what little money I had left. I ended up penniless, and I ran my business into the ground. From a respected and successful multimillionaire businessman, to a pitiful alcoholic who couldn’t even keep a roof over his head—’

  This must be why I’ve never seen Finn have an alcoholic drink. I feel even worse about drinking all the Guinness in front of him now.

  ‘What happened then?’ I ask quietly.

  ‘I was a burden to my parents for a while – they didn’t turn their backs on me, God love ’em. But I knew I had to get back on my feet again somehow, I just didn’t know how. Then one day my mam told me she’d signed me up for a self-help group over on Tara. I didn’t know what self-help was, let alone how it was going to take place on a remote island. But she insisted I went, even drove me to the boat herself.’

  Was that what Finn’s mother had been calling him about the other day? I suddenly wonder. Had it been the anniversary of Celtic Cassidy’s death, and she was phoning to check he was OK?

  ‘And that’s where it happened,’ Finn continues, ‘where I got my life back.’

  ‘Over on Tara?’

  ‘Yes, I resisted everything at first – the classes, the groups – but one day I was walking around the island on my own when suddenly I felt the wind change, and in that moment I changed too. It sounds completely mad, but it’s the truth. After that, I joined in with everything. Instead of putting up a brick wall, I allowed the island to help me – and it did. I still haven’t a clue how, but I know I have the island of Tara to thank for it, and Darcy and Dermot too.’

  ‘So you did meet Dermot on the island then?’

  ‘Yes, not exactly in the circumstances I told you I’m afraid, but it was on Tara. They’re a good couple, those two – always looking out for the next waif or stray they can help. And I happened to be one of them. By offering me the job at The Stag, Dermot not only gave me a new job, but a whole new life too.’

  ‘That is an amazing story,’ I tell him. ‘You turned your life around – with a little help, of course, but you did. You’re happy now, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’ve been even happier since I met you, Ren. So, what do you think – do you still want to hold my hand after I’ve told you all that?’

  I don’t say anything, I just take both his hands in mine, and I kiss them. I’d felt his pain and his anguish as he told his story, and now all I want is to help him mend, like he’d helped me.

  I look deep into his eyes, then I gently stroke his cheek, finally I reach my lips up towards his, but something catches my eye in amongst the trees behind us.

  ‘What’s that?’ I ask, moving my head to the side just as Finn’s lips are about to meet mine.

  ‘Well, it was going to be a kiss . . . ’

  ‘No, I mean behind you, there was something moving in the trees.’

  ‘What sort of something?’

  ‘I don’t know. It was light, maybe even white, but it was definitely moving slowly through the trees. It caught my eye as you were leaning towards me.’

  Finn turns around to see where I’m staring.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ he says, turning back. ‘A reflection off the water. Now where were we?’

  Suddenly one of the horses lets out a high-pitched whinny, and we hear them moving around.

  �
��I’d better go check on them,’ Finn sighs, pulling himself to his feet. ‘Hold that thought and those lips right where they are. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  While Finn heads back towards where the horses are tethered, I peer into the trees where I’d seen the movement. But all I can see are the dim silhouettes of many tall trees in the darkness.

  Odd.

  ‘They won’t settle,’ Finn says, returning to me. ‘I think we’re going to have to ride back.’

  ‘Oh what a shame, this is such a lovely spot.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to come again, won’t we?’ Finn offers his hand, so I take it. But when he pulls me up, he deliberately pulls me right into his body, and then he takes his kiss.

  ‘I wasn’t going to leave here without one,’ he says, tucking a stray lock of my hair gently behind my ear.

  ‘I’m so glad you didn’t,’ I reply, smiling up at him. ‘Now let’s go home and we’ll see if there aren’t a few more like that waiting for you when we get there.’

  As Finn and I walk hand in hand back towards the horses, I take a quick look behind me. Even though there is no movement now, I can’t help feeling that something is hiding in the trees, watching me.

  Thirty-Eight

  The next morning I wake in a strange bed, but that’s not the only thing that makes me jump as I gradually return to consciousness. There’s a person in the bed next to me too.

  I turn over as quietly as I can, to face Finn.

  He’s lying on his back, still sleeping, but the bedcovers are only half covering him, so I get another chance to see the well-toned torso that I’d had the enjoyment of seeing again last night when we returned from the stables and headed straight back to The Welcome House after collecting Fergus on the way.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right with him being here?’ Finn had asked me. ‘Now I know how you feel about dogs, I don’t want you to feel awkward.’

  ‘Don’t be silly; Fergus is the first dog I’ve had feelings for in a long time. I love having him here.’

  ‘Should I be jealous?’ Finn had asked jokingly.

  ‘I can assure you, as much as I like Fergus, I do not feel the same about him as I feel about you, Finn Cassidy.’