The Traveller's Daughter

by Michelle Vernal

  Kitty felt her face flush as she heard tittering from the crowd. The next attempt didn’t go much better. She felt like playing the temperamental diva, and flouncing off as the sweet, kind Christian she had grown accustomed to over the last twenty-four hours was replaced by a steely-eyed professional she did not recognize.

  “I’m sorry Christian.” She mumbled taking a deep breath, and telling herself to try and zone everyone out except Jonny.

  “Okay, we try again, and maybe this time we will be how you say? Third time lucky. One, two, three and turn your head. ”

  Kitty did so only this time when she looked up at Jonny she saw a warmth in his eyes that reassured her. He looked down at her with a smile and out the corner of his mouth whispered, “Get this fecking shot in the bag so that we can stop feeling like a right pair of eejits and get the hell out of here. I promise I will buy you one of those éclairs you were fantasizing about last night if you nail it.”

  Her face broke into a grin at his words, and she couldn’t help but laugh. That was the moment Christian got his shot and declared with all the finesse of a Hollywood director that it was a wrap. Kitty was sure he only said it as a crowd pleaser, and he got his round of applause but either way she was pleased the ordeal was over, and planned on holding Jonny to his word. She wanted desperately to get out of here, and there was no way she was going to leave France without sampling at least one delight from the patisserie.

  Christian and Simone were otherwise occupied talking to curious spectators about what the photo shoot was in aid of and Kitty saw an opportunity to slip away before anyone decided to accost her.

  “You owe me an éclair.” She said to Jonny.

  He grinned at her. “I’m a man of my word follow me.” He leaned the bike up against a wall and leaving it there strode off toward the main road.

  ***

  “You’ve got something green on the end of your nose.”

  Kitty’s hand flew up to wipe it off. “It’s pistachio infused pastry cream thank you very much and this éclair is quite possibly the most divine thing ever to pass my lips.”

  Jonny looked at her as she bit into the choux pastry with its light green icing. The matching filling oozed out the sides as she did so, and his mouth twitched with amusement. “I can tell that by the daft look on your face.”

  “Alright then,” she challenged. “Tell me that isn’t one of the best tart’s you have ever had.”

  “You have a real way with words do you know that?”

  It took Kitty a moment to twig. “And you’ve a filthy mind. I meant tell me that isn’t one of the best fruit tartlets you have ever eaten.” She pointed to the half-eaten cup of short, sweet pastry filled with brilliant red Raspberries encased in a shiny glaze he was holding in his hand. “And you’ve got crumbs all over your chin.”

  He brushed them away with a grin. “Well I can’t say I am a connoisseur of the fruit tartlet but yes okay I’ll admit it is pretty good.”

  “The French make baking into an art form. They take it to the next level.” They were sitting on the bench where Christian and Jonny had sat yesterday. Kitty’s gaze fixed on the window of the patisserie; she was desperate to try one of the macarons on display in it, but she didn’t want to look like too much of a glutton.

  Jonny read her expression. “Ah go on and get one. You know you want too, you’ve a sweet tooth on you alright woman.”

  Kitty shivered at the way he said woman, there was something primal about it. Telling herself to cut it out, she popped the rest of the éclair in her mouth and sat there for a moment concentrating on savouring the last morsel of it instead as she continued to eye the macarons. The pull was too strong, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist and so what if she felt sick afterwards? It was a form of market research for her impending business venture. “Alright, I will but only because I want to see why people go so mad for them and only if you have one too.”

  “Go on then twist my arm you pick a colour any colour except those pink ones they’re far too girly.”

  “Oh darn I just remembered I haven’t got any Euro’s on me.”

  Jonny dug into his pocket and produced a note. “That should cover it but if I’m ever in London, you owe me a cupcake on the house.”

  “Deal.” She took the money with a grin and found herself liking this affable version of Jonny a lot as she stood up and swept the crumbs off her lap. Heading back inside the patisserie she was so focused on the treat nearly at hand that she was oblivious to the strange looks her appearance was garnering. Rather than waste time trying to speak to the girl serving behind the counter in her pigeon French she decided she’d get further by showing her what she wanted. She held up two fingers in the universal peace sign. Then she pointed to a gold macaron she hoped would be caramel for Jonny, and a green one she was guessing was mint flavored with dark chocolate filling for herself.

  Clutching the bag the girl had placed the little biscuits in she pushed her way out of the shop that was beginning to fill up, it must be lunchtime she thought sitting back down next to Jonny. “Here you go.” She handed him his biscuit before taking her own from the bag.

  “Is that one mint and chocolate?”

  “Mm yes, I think so.” She opened her mouth to take a bite.

  “Mint’s my favourite.”

  She paused the macaron hovering in front of her mouth. “You said you didn’t care what colour I got you so long as it wasn’t pink.”

  “Ah go on give me the mint one.”

  Kitty handed it over grudgingly but got over herself as soon as she bit into the caramel flavoured one, and the salted filling cut into the overtly sweet biscuit. Two bites and it was gone.

  “That was very sweet.”

  “But delicious.”

  “Aye, it was that.”

  “I have a newfound respect for the macaron.”

  They sat in silence watching as a woman dressed to the nines in couture sashayed past, a clichéd white poodle trotting on its lead beside her.

  “That whole photo thing was pretty weird wasn’t it?” Jonny ventured.

  “It was, but not in the way I expected it to be. I thought that I might get upset. You know at reliving a moment that was so poignant in my mum’s life like that? With all those people standing around it was hard to feel anything except a bit silly. What about you, it must have been hard for you with everything that happened?”

  “Not hard, surreal maybe but coming here you know it was never about the money.”

  Kitty must have looked surprised because she had thought that for him it would have been all about the money.

  “Alright five grand for looking like an eejit in a small French town that I will probably never set foot in again in my life was tempting I admit, but there was more to it than that. I wanted to see this place for myself, and I wanted to see you too. I thought you would probably look like her, and I was curious as to how she captivated Michael to leave our family the way he did.”

  Kitty was too aghast to think about his choice of words. “Oh, but it wasn’t like that! They loved each other, and they had no choice but to walk away from Cherry Orchard. Your grandfather disowned Michael when he found out about him and Rosa thanks to the feud between our families. God knows what would have happened to Rosa when her father, my grandfather sobered up if they’d stayed. From what I read in my mother’s journal last night Michael never got over leaving your dad and your gran to fend for themselves. It haunted him.”

  He looked angry. “He was a cruel bastard my grandda, Martin, and there were no tears shed in our family when he died. He did a lot of damage, not just with his fists but up here you know.” He tapped the side of his head. “Da turned to the bottle.”

  “Like Paddy did because he never got over losing Joe.” Kitty murmured.

  “Paddy’s Rosa’s younger brother?”

  She nodded. “Do you know him?” Her voice was hopeful at the tangible link to the family she had never known.

  “Aye I k
now of him he’s a Rourke isn’t he.”

  Kitty frowned at the inflexion in his voice. “You are not telling me that the feud between the Rourke’s and the Donohue’s still exists are you?”

  “The Travellers have long memories.”

  Kitty shook her head. “So I’m learning, but it was so long ago surely it’s time to put the past to bed?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “It’s the way it is.”

  Kitty could see by the set of his jaw she wouldn’t get very far following this line of enquiry, so she decided to change the subject. “Do you come from a big family?”

  “Not by Traveller standards, there’s only me and my four older sisters left now. They all married young so as to leave home and are off doing their own thing with their families now. Ours was not a happy home; Da was there when we were growing up, but he wasn’t if you know what I mean. It was our mam that reared us but a boy needs a father, and I used to think when I was a young fella that maybe things would have been different if Michael had stayed around,” he shrugged. “Now, I’m not so sure, maybe there would have been a weakness in my da anyway. It’s a sickness the alcoholism.”

  He was holding onto bitterness all of his own Kitty realised. She could tell that being here in a town where his uncle, unlike his father, had so briefly been happy was taking its toll.

  “The decision Rosa and Michael made to leave that day ate away at my mother for the rest of her life too. She left people she loved behind too.”

  “What about your father? Where does he fit in then?” He asked, his turn to change the subject.

  “Mum met Dad when she was nineteen, and they were happy together but he died a few years ago now, and she was never really the same afterwards.”

  “Then she got cancer?”

  “Yes, I think she blamed all the secrets she carried around inside her for her getting sick.”

  He nodded slowly. “It will make you sick holding onto things, I think that’s what got my mother in the end too. All that anger at my da’s drinking and the miserable existence she led as a result of it. She let it fester instead of doing something about it. I don’t want to be like that. I want to move forward with my life and put the past to bed as you so eloquently put it. That’s why I came.”

  Kitty reached out and touched his arm. “I think you’re brave.”

  “Not brave, selfish.”

  Kitty shook her head in contradiction. She felt a bit like Sandra Dee from Grease as her ponytail swung back and forth waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “So you’ve no parents left either? What about a brother or a sister?”

  “No Mum and Dad could only have me, lucky them.” She gave a sardonic little laugh.

  “I’d say they were very lucky.”

  It was said so softly that Kitty wasn’t sure if she’d imagined hearing the words and his tone was brusque as he asked, “You’ve a boyfriend though?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, not anymore so I’m officially alone. All by myself.” Not wanting to sound like Bridget Jones, she quickly added, “I’ve got friends obviously, but not having either of my parents it’s the strangest feeling and the realisation keeps taking me by surprise. You’d know what that’s like.” A lump formed in her throat. “The thing is even though I’ve been caught up in my life these past few years I always knew that I had a safety net in my mother. Now it’s gone.” She swallowed hard. “It’s scary.”

  “Aye, but you’re a big girl.” The gruff Jonny was back, and he got to his feet. “We should head back and get changed, it will be time to head to the airport soon.”

  Kitty stood up too. She didn’t have time to wonder over his mood change, it was now or never, she realised running after him. “Jonny I was uh, well I was – you see the thing is, what you were saying about putting the past to bed, well-”

  “Those were your words and for fecks sake would you spit it out whatever it is you’re trying to say.” He stopped and looked at her. “I want to get back and change out of this shite.” He tugged at his shirt and as he waited for her to speak she was filled with a sudden terror that he would say no and that would be that.

  “Right I will. What it is well what I was wondering is whether I could fly back to Dublin with you today.”

  “What the feck for?”

  She would have been affronted by anyone else’s continual use of the ‘f’ word but somehow his Irish version of it didn’t sound so offensive.

  “I want you to take me to Cherry Orchard.”

  Chapter 24

  Bad as I like ye, it’s worse without ye – Irish Proverb

  Jonny stared at her. “What the feck do you want to go there for?” He began to stride off, and Kitty had almost to trot to keep up with him.

  “I want to see where my mother lived and to find her brother and sister.”

  “I thought I told you to get that idealistic shite about the way Travellers live out of your head. You’ll not find your aunt or your uncle at Cherry Orchard, you’ll find nothing there but ghosts. They’re long gone. Go back to London and open your little café like you planned.”

  His condescending tone rankled, but she couldn’t afford to bite back. “But I can’t go back to London not now, you of all people should understand why. I thought it was just me, but now I know I have this other family. You were just saying you need to move forward, well I can’t do that until I can close this final chapter for my mother’s sake.”

  “What if they don’t want to meet you? How will you feel then, have you thought about that?”

  She wasn’t going to be put off. “I have spent thirty-one years without them in my life so I’ll survive, but I’ve got too much to lose if I don’t at least try to meet them.”

  The cherub’s urn had run dry today Kitty saw out the corner of her eye. She scurried across the road unused to flat shoes as she tried to keep step with Jonny, who remained frustratingly silent.

  “Please Jonny I know what I am asking of you but I wouldn’t if I knew of any other way.”

  “Ah alright.” His voice was so low she hardly heard it.

  “Does that mean you’ll let me come? I won’t rake up trouble for you I promise, but I need your help to find them.”

  “I said alright but I'm not responsible for you if the shite hits the fan and you don’t get your big family reunion. Your mam left on bad terms and like I said the Travellers have long memories.”

  She noticed he used ‘the’ instead of ‘we’ and she wondered if he had closed himself off to that part of his life too. “I’m aware of that just like my mother was. I promise if we can find them, and they don’t want anything to do with me then I will leave it be and go back to London to open my little cafe.”

  Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him, and he shot her a sideways glance. “They won’t be hard to find.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That I know where they are living.”

  “But why didn’t you say something earlier?” Kitty was gobsmacked.

  “Because I wasn’t sure about you that’s why. You can’t just go barrelling in wanting to be all friendly like until you decide their lifestyle’s not to your liking.”

  Kitty saw red then. “You don’t know the first thing about me! I am not responsible for something that happened over fifty bloody years ago so stop acting as if I am my mother.”

  They’d reached the house she realised breathing heavily. He stopped in front of the door his hand resting on the handle as he gave her the once over. “Hard not to when you are dressed like that.” He opened the door, and Kitty felt like kicking him in his obnoxious backside as he strode toward the stairs, but she reined her temper in. “She was a good woman you know my mum.” She called after him unable to stop herself from adding, “Your uncle thought so too.

  She closed the front door behind her with a bit more force than was necessary and turning spotted Pierre the chauffeur. He’d obviously been enjoying the peace as he sat in the front room with a newspaper open in front of him.
Now he lowered it and looked at her with a startled expression at all the noise. Kitty blushed and apologised sure that even if he didn’t understand her words he got the sentiment behind them.

  He shrugged in the international language of its no big deal and pointed to his watch before muttering something that went right over the top of her head. Seeing her bewilderment he put the paper down and twisted around to point out the window to where the car was parked before holding up four fingers.

  “Oh, I see! We are leaving for the airport at four o’clock, merci.” She said and not giving him the chance to look blankly back at her, she turned and took herself off up the stairs.

  First things first, she decided pushing open her bedroom door and pulling her hair free from the ponytail that had been tied back so tightly it was beginning to pinch around her temples. Fluffing her hair out, she peered in the mirror. She’d leave the makeup on, it was too much hassle to wipe it off besides with her new look fringe she didn’t dare head out with a bare face. Next she unzipped the dress, sliding out of it before laying it on the bed. She changed into the same clothes she’d had on all day yesterday and first thing this morning. At least her knickers were clean she thought rubbing at a spot on her T-shirt where she had managed to slop something that looked a lot like coffee.

  She didn’t exactly have much to pack she thought folding the dress and placing it carefully in her case alongside the precious journal and her toilet bag. Her phone was still charging on the bedside table where she had left it and unplugging it she saw that she had a new message. It was from Yasmin, and she sat down on the edge of the bed hoping her friend had gotten over her shock at Kitty’s earlier announcement. It had, as she had anticipated been met with a shriek when she had told her there was a possibility she might not be back that night. That she might just be winging her way to Dublin instead if Jonny agreed to her going back with him. She was desperate to learn more about her family but didn’t want to face him again just yet and hoping she hadn’t just blown it with him she opened the message.