Tied Up with a Bow

by Sheila Connolly

  Hannah came straight to the point. “Danny here tells me you’ve offered to pay him to work fer yeh.”

  “Yes, providing you agree, and he gets his homework done. Is that a problem?”

  “We’re not lookin’ fer charity.”

  “It’s not charity. In case you haven’t counted, mostly there are only three of us running this place, and we can’t always keep up with the sweeping and cleaning during the day. Danny could be a big help to us, if he could give us a couple of hours in the afternoon. But if you aren’t comfortable with it, no problem.”

  Hannah’s expression softened a bit. “Anne doesn’t like him hangin’ about over at her place. Thinks he’ll get in the way, most likely. But it’s hard, since he’s too young to be left on his own, in a place he doesn’t know well, and I need the work. And Saturdays are harder, since that’s Anne’s busiest time, but I’ve no one to leave Danny with.”

  “He’d be safe enough here. Look, I know you haven’t been in Leap for long, and you haven’t been in this pub here. But this is not a place for hard drinkers. Mostly we get farmers who want a break after a long day with their herds, or people who want a chance to talk with friends and enjoy a pint before heading home. And then there’s Billy, over by the fire there. He’s as much a part of the place as the walls—he knew the former owner, who left the place to me. He may look half asleep most of the time, but he doesn’t miss much. If you’re really worried, you can ask Sean Murphy—he’s a garda in Skibbereen. He knows us all, and he’ll vouch for us. But if it’s not right for you, I can understand that.”

  Hannah dredged up a smile. “Yeh’re bein’ awfully kind to a stranger.”

  “That’s because I was a stranger here myself not long ago, and a lot of people helped me. It was hard for me to get used to, since I came here from Boston, which has like a couple of hundred thousand people. Were you living in Dublin before you came here?”

  Hannah’s expression closed down, Maura noted. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “Not a good place to raise a child on yer own.”

  “I can understand that. Not that I have any children, but I was a child in Boston so I can guess at the problems. Look, you want something to drink? Coffee?”

  “Thanks, but Danny and me, we should be gettin’ home to supper. But I’ll let yeh know about tomorrow, all right?”

  “Sure. We’ll be here.”

  Hannah turned to search the room for her son. She spied him standing by the door to the back room, talking with Mick. “Danny? We’d best be goin’ now,” she called out.

  Danny turned reluctantly and came over to her. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Seamus came up to the bar looking for a fresh drink. “Scared of her shadow, she is,” he commented as Maura began filling a clean glass.

  “What makes you say that?” Maura asked.

  “She’s lookin’ over her shoulder all the time, like she’s expectin’ trouble. I feel sorry for the kid.”

  “Is there anything we can do about it? Especially if we don’t know what the problem is?”

  Seamus shrugged. “Just keep yer eyes open, will you?”

  “I always do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Friday night was busier than usual, even though Seamus and his crowd left early, promising to be back the next day. Since there was no music that night, and no big events going on in the area, Maura had to give credit to the drawing, and the publicity for it that Rose had set up, for bringing the people in.

  She couldn’t tell whether the clay raffle jar was filling up or not, and she wasn’t sure whether they’d made a mistake going with a container that no one could see into. On the one hand, if people had been able to watch how many entries went into it, and the number seemed low, would that encourage people to try their luck? On the other hand, if it was stuffed, would they not bother entering the drawing at all, making the assumption that someone had already guessed correctly? She had no idea. The only tracking she had was the estimates Rose and Mick gave her: they claimed that even though there was more than a full day left to enter, those people who had come in were adding their slips (and euros) at a good rate. It appeared that the one-euro price seemed reasonable, and the coins made a satisfying clink as they fell into the jar.

  The workers from across the road came in after it got too dark to keep working, and they’d draped some tarps over the skeleton of the Thing and tied them down, both to protect it from possible wet weather and to camouflage the shape of it. Right now it looked like a large lump, which didn’t give anything away.

  It didn’t take long for the regular patrons to figure out who the guys were, and Maura was glad she had warned them against saying anything about the identity of Thing. They had not forgotten her promise of a free round of drinks, and they bellied up to the bar, grinning. Maura had begun filling glasses as soon as she spotted them approaching.

  “Will it be ready by the grand unveiling on Sunday?” she asked. “It doesn’t look exactly done yet.”

  “Ah, no problem,” Paddy Daley said. “But there’s little to be seen from where we’re standin’, so I’m guessin’ yer safe for now. We’ll be finishin’ it Sunday mornin’.”

  “Thanks for not spoiling the fun,” Maura said, topping off their pints and sliding them across the bar. “I’m waiting to hear what people guess. I confess I still have no idea what it is, so nobody’s going to have any luck bribing me to tell them. Not that they would, now, would they? Seems like the fun part is trying to figure it out, although winning a round of drinks doesn’t hurt, and the winner can feel good about helping some group out. Tell me, what do you guys do when you’re not building Christmas decorations?”

  “A bit of this and that. Mostly we work on construction, for whoever needs a job done.”

  “We’re thinking about fixing up the kitchen in back,” Maura told Paddy, “in case we decide to offer food as well as drink. Would that be difficult? Or would the building fall down if you tried?”

  “How old’s yer place?” the foreman said, looking around with a practiced eye.

  “I’ve only been here a year or so, so I’m not the person to ask. You should talk to Old Billy. I think he told me once that the building itself is over two hundred years old, though it hasn’t been a pub that long. If he’s right, does that make it harder or easier to rebuild part of it?”

  “Why don’t we come by when it’s light, and we can take a harder look?”

  “I’d appreciate that. For now, just enjoy the evening—and don’t give any hints, okay?”

  “I can promise yeh that, Maura Donovan.” The crew turned and drifted toward a table in the corner, and Maura turned back to the growing crowd waiting for their pints.

  • • •

  Saturday morning Maura arrived at Sullivan’s early, to make sure it was as clean as it ever got. Keeping ahead of the dirt in a centuries-old building was not easy, no matter how good her intentions. Plus she was keeping open the option of using the back room in the evening, if the crowd grew large (she was keeping her fingers crossed about that), since there was a second bar back there, so that needed to be cleaned too. Of course, she didn’t have enough staff to cover the two rooms, but they could manage somehow, couldn’t they?

  She was surprised to see Hannah and Danny at the door before opening time, and she hurried over to open it. “Good morning! You’re here early. Would you like some coffee or something?”

  “No, but thanks fer asking,” Hannah said. “Anne’s expectin’ a busy day and she wants me in early. I think she’s heard about your raffle—name the sculpture, is it? You’ve got the better view of it than she does—all she can see is the back end, which doesn’t look like much. Not yet, anyways.”

  “You know, I hadn’t even thought about which way Thing is facing. That’s what I’ve been calling it—Thing. So you think it’s looking toward Skibbereen?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I’ve no clue. Listen, yeh told me yesterday yeh wouldn’t m
ind looking after Danny while I’m workin’ today. Do yeh mean it? I worry about him stayin’ alone, and Anne still hasn’t come round to lettin’ him stay at the inn.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Maura assured her. “Like I said, this place is pretty easygoing. We don’t have a lot of drunks or fights here—and those who get into it know we won’t let them back, which kind of keeps them in line. Danny will be safe here. You don’t mind if we put him on the cleanup crew? We’re kind of short-handed. But we’ll all keep an eye on Danny. You okay with that, Danny?”

  Danny had been studying the wild array of vintage posters on the walls, but he turned to look at Maura. “I won’t be any trouble. But I’d rather stay where there are other people than back at our place. It’s too quiet there.”

  “I know what you mean, Danny. But I’m going to put you to work and keep you busy. You know your mam will be right across the road, right?” Danny nodded.

  “I’m grateful to you, Maura,” Hannah said. “I promise I’ll work things out soon, so he’s not a burden to yeh.”

  “I’m not worried about that, Hannah. And he’s no problem.”

  “Then I’ll be on my way. I may stop by, if Anne gives me any breaks. You behave fer Maura here, Danny.” Danny only nodded, and Hannah hugged him before turning toward the door.

  As Hannah went out, Mick came in. He smiled at Danny. “I see the cleaning crew’s here.”

  “It is. Why don’t the two of you figure out what needs to be done? Danny, did you get anything to eat this morning?”

  Danny shook his head silently.

  “Then why don’t I go get something to eat at the Costcutter? It won’t take long. And Rose should be in soon.”

  “That’d be grand,” Danny said shyly.

  “Do you want anything, Mick?”

  “I’m set fer now. I’ll turn on the coffee machine and show Danny where we keep the cleaning supplies.”

  As Maura left, she battled with herself. Under normal circumstances, even a Saturday night at Sullivan’s would be peaceful, but she wasn’t sure what tonight might be like, and she was worried about Danny and whether he was allowed to be at the pub at all. Maybe she should talk to Sean Murphy again, just to be sure, since she’d forgotten to ask before. She stopped and sat on the low stone wall that was out of sight of the pub, pulled out her phone and hit his speed-dial number.

  He answered quickly. “Good morning, Maura. Anything wrong?”

  “Hey, Sean. No, nothing to report yet.” It made her sad that that was his first reaction. “Hannah Barry asked if I could keep an eye on her son Danny today. Seems like Anne expects to be busy and called Hannah in for a double shift, and she doesn’t want to leave him alone. But I don’t want to get her in trouble, or the pub. I’m not really sure if we’re going to be busy tonight or not.”

  “I’m guessin’ you’ve already told Hannah yes?”

  “Well, yes, I said yes. She’ll be right across the road if there’s any trouble. And I don’t think he’d be at risk. I mean, he’s from Dublin—he probably has seen more violence than I have. Is there anything I should do? Like, hide him if Sergeant Ryan stops by?”

  Sean was silent for a few moments. “I’ll come by in a bit, mebbe talk to the boy, and to his mother, if that won’t put Anne’s back up. And I was plannin’ to come by in the evenin’ anyway.”

  “Are you allowed to gamble?”

  “In yer raffle? Only if I give any winnings of mine to that good cause of yours.”

  “Thank you, Sean. I’ll see you later.”

  She put her phone back in her pocket and took off toward the Costcutter up the road.

  It was still short of opening time when she returned to Sullivan’s, carrying a couple of bags of buns and cakes, and some milk for Danny. The walk had given her the chance to study Thing from some different angles, not that she’d learned anything from it. It was certainly big, and she could see some electrical connections running to it. Holiday lights? She was glad that the raffle would end that night. Otherwise she might have worried that some people would try to sneak a peek at Thing, especially after they’d had a few pints. Would anyone care enough to do that? The stakes were low. The whole raffle idea was supposed to provide some fun, nothing more.

  Back at Sullivan’s Mick and Danny were making a fine showing of looking busy. Danny seemed very enthusiastic—eager to prove himself?—but watching him handle a broom, Maura wasn’t sure whether he had any cleaning experience at all. Well, it was time he learned, and she wasn’t about to discourage him by correcting him now. He was trying his best.

  Danny pounced on the bags that Maura had brought, and she had to wonder if he was getting enough to eat. For that matter, Hannah looked like she could use a few good meals too. There had to be a story there, but it was hard to pry, and she was only just getting to know them. Maura wondered if she should find a chance to ask Anne what was going on, but Maura wasn’t sure whether Anne would be willing to share.

  Danny finished his breakfast in record time. “Where’s the bin, Maura?” he asked, clutching a wrinkled paper bag and a couple of crushed napkins.

  “Out in the kitchen. You might as well bring it out here—I have a feeling we’ll be needing it today.”

  “Where would the kitchen be, then?” he asked.

  “It’s in the back—I’ll show him,” Mick said. The two of them disappeared around the end of the bar and through a door to the kitchen. Danny was back in less than a minute, wrestling with a plastic bin that was nearly as tall as he was. “Where do yeh want it?”

  “Behind the bar, I guess,” Maura said. “I’m hoping it’ll fill up with people in front.”

  Danny dumped it triumphantly at one corner of the bar. “And where’s the money jar to go?”

  “Right up here in the middle of the bar, where we can all keep an eye on it.”

  “Aren’t yeh worried that somebody will make off with it?” he asked with a serious expression.

  “No, we picked a heavy one that won’t fit under a coat, much less in a pocket. And we made sure the top was too small for anybody to stick a hand in and help himself. But I’d appreciate it if you kept your eye on it as well.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Chapter Nine

  As the day wore on, Maura could almost feel the energy building in Sullivan’s. Maybe many of the people—both men and women—thought this might be the last weekend before the rush of holiday preparations or the arrival of winter weather, which made it hard to drive on the narrow country lanes. Maybe they had less work to do, now that the cattle were in the barn for the winter, although she assumed that meant they had to be fed, rather than grazing in the fields. Either way, she wasn’t going to complain. People seemed happy to be there, and they were buying pints.

  It was hard to keep an eye on Danny, who was shorter than most of the people in the place. He kept moving quickly, darting between the drinkers. Old Billy had come in at midday, and Maura had spied Danny sitting next to him for a time, listening as Billy told his tales. Would city kid Danny be interested in what things were like in the old days, when Billy was young? In some ways things were probably much the same back then, except that children of all ages were expected to help out on the farm or with the animals. Nobody was worried about finding babysitters for the smaller ones—that job fell to older siblings or maybe a grandparent who was sharing the house.

  To Maura, Danny seemed pretty mature for his age. Because he’d grown up in a city? But she agreed with Hannah: he was still young to be left alone in an unfamiliar place where he didn’t know anybody. Not that hanging out in a pub was a good solution, but at least he had some people looking out for him. And he was no trouble—he was eager to please.

  As it grew darker, Rose went out to find something for supper, which Maura, Mick and Danny ate in shifts between pouring pints, or in Danny’s case, running around picking up dropped napkins and sweeping up spills. About seven, Seamus and his buddies started arriving, although by then the crowd
was so thick that it was hard to tell who was actually there. Maura watched with some amusement as Seamus told one of his posse to stake out a table while he came over to the bar to order drinks.

  “Yeh’re doin’ a grand business tonight, Maura,” he said as he waited.

  “Isn’t it great? I feel really lucky that whoever it was decided to put Thing across the street—and then made it impossible to identify. I hope it’s not some kind of modern art blob, because people might want their money back.”

  “I’d wager it’s somethin’ people will recognize once they see it. Else the builders would have warned you off, I’m guessin’. We know the lot of them, and they’re good folk. They said you were thinkin’ about makin’ some changes to yer kitchen?”

  “Thinking’s about as far as it’s gone,” Maura said, “but I thought I’d find out what it might cost me. Plus I have no idea what the best time of year would be to do it, or how long it would take, or what a fair price would be. For the moment I’m just asking.”

  “Would it be Rosie doin’ the cookin’?” Seamus asked.

  “I think that’s the plan. Unless she gets a better offer.”

  “I’ll keep me fingers crossed that she stays on. She certainly brightens up the place.”

  “I agree. Have you talked to Danny?”

  “I would if I could find him—he’s a slippery lad. Yeh think he should be here?”

  “I’m not completely happy about it,” Maura admitted, “but it was the best of not so good choices. I hope Hannah gets things sorted out, but she hasn’t been here long.”

  “Yeh’ve put the boy to work, I see.”

  “I thought it would keep him busy, and I don’t mind paying him a bit to work for me. Mick’s been giving him some easy chores. Don’t worry—Sean Murphy knows he’s here, and why.”

  “Then I won’t trouble you about it. I see me mates have snagged us a table—I’ll take the pints over.”

  Maura watched Seamus navigate skillfully through the crowd without spilling a drop. Years of practice, no doubt. She looked around, trying to spot Danny, but there was no sign of him.