He shrugged. “Not my cooking. The lamb from this area has a very distinct flavour. Could be because the sheep graze all over the mountains, eating heather and grass.”
Megan put the bone on the paper plate beside her. “That was all so delicious. The prawns, the lamb, the baked potato. Thank you.”
“More wine?” Without waiting for a reply, he leaned forward and filled her cup.
Leaning on her elbow, Megan stretched out on the blanket. “The sun has disappeared. I love this light, just before it gets really dark.”
“The blue hour,” Dan said. “Like in Paris. But here, it’s even more magic.”
“Yes.”
They were quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Megan studied Dan surreptitiously, while he gazed out at sea. A handsome man, fun and intelligent. Thoughtful and kind, someone I could easily fall in love with. So different from Stephen. And we have a lot more in common, like the same things, been to the same places. And we both know how this evening is going to end. But we’re not rushing it. He’s giving me a little space. That’s considerate and generous. She sipped the last of the wine. “Wonderful night, isn’t it?” she murmured into the darkness. “Still so warm.”
He turned to her. “Yes. How about a swim?”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“No need. It’s quite dark. Nobody around.”
“True.” On an impulse, she stood up and quickly stripped. “Let’s go, then. Last one in is a wimpy chicken.” Without waiting for a reaction, she ran down to the water and threw herself into the waves. The cool water was delicious on her hot skin. She lay back and floated, letting the waves bounce her body, slowly relaxing, the effect of the water igniting her senses in a strange way. Tiny, ice cold explosions in her private places made her feel nearly dizzy.
There was a splashing beside her. It was Dan, naked, frolicking in the waves. He came closer and their bodies joined under the water. They surfaced to kiss, his hands on her breasts. They stood up, gasping.
He laughed. “It’s bloody freezing.”
“We’d better get out, then.” Megan waded out of the water and walked to the blanket and started to dry herself with a towel. By the time she was nearly dry, Dan had joined her.
Laughing, he shook his wet hair over her.
She squealed. “Stop it. You’re like a wet dog!”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the house. “Come on. Let’s get inside and into bed. I’ll warm you up.”
“Is that a threat?” she giggled.
“It’s a promise.”
***
The bed was already made. Megan lay on the cool sheets and pulled the duvet over her. Dan joined her and cuddled up from behind. With his arms around her, his mouth on her neck, Megan felt a huge comfort, a sense of being loved. She closed her eyes, telling herself this was the best feeling in the world. Whatever happened next was of no importance.
He stirred and pressed his erection harder against her thighs. Delighted, she turned around. The kisses became more intense. His hands travelled to her breasts, and his fingers played with her nipples. She moaned softly and stroked his loins down to his groin until her fingers found their target. Not quite what she had hoped. But she didn’t really mind. So he’s petite in that area. Size doesn’t matter…
He lay on top of her, pushed inside, then smiled. “Thanks for the welcome, sweet Megan.”
She closed her eyes and kissed him. It was so lovely to lie here and get so close. But after a while, she slowly realised she felt more motherly than sexy. He seemed so hesitant, so slow and weak. Her libido evaporating, she found herself thinking of other things.
“Is this good for you?” Dan enquired with a small thrust.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Great.” Must get some furniture, she thought. “Oooh, that’s fantastic.” Maybe that blue chair I saw in Dublin… “Mmmm—oooh.” Is he going to finish soon? “Oh, yesss…” Curtains or blinds?
It took him quite a long time to achieve a climax. Megan lay there, meeting his thrusts, moaning, making all the right noises, while mentally flicking through the IKEA catalogue. She had got to the bathroom section when he finally shouted, “Yes!”
Megan let out a final, long “Oooh.”
Lathered with sweat, he collapsed on top of her. “Wasn’t that…”
Megan sighed with relief. “Oh, yes. That was—”
“Amazing.” He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter 9
While waiting to get the plumbing done, Megan decided to get stuck into cleaning up and doing any restoring she could manage herself. The electrician spent two days rewiring the house and the mess he left took several days to clean up. Megan had to borrow Beata’s powerful vacuum cleaner to tackle all the fine dust that had settled everywhere. When the rewiring was finished and perfectly safe, she bought a new cooker and fridge. The plumbing side of things was a little tricky, but there was plenty of water in the stream. Lugging buckets upstairs was better than any workout, she told herself, but after a week of this, it lost its appeal. She called the plumber to ask if he could come sooner, but he was too busy to rearrange his schedule. The bucket regime would have to continue for a while longer. Megan told herself to look on the bright side—her arms would be more toned than after a year at the gym.
Boris helped out with the heavier work. Having worked on building sites in Russia, he had some very useful skills. “Your gutters are bad,” he said. “If you get material, I can put them up.” Which he did with astonishing speed. He also knew something about plastering and did a rough but solid job on the ceilings. The most helpful thing of all, he got two strong Ukrainian men to come and paint the outside of the house.
“That man’s a gem,” Megan said to Beata. “And if you don’t want him, I know lots of women who would.”
“Hands off,” Beata said. “He’s mine to work and torture when I need him.”
“I’m beginning to understand why you stick to him like glue,” Megan said. “But not why he sticks to you. Could it be love?”
“Shut up,” Beata said with a warning glimmer in her eyes.
“Okay.” Megan rolled her eyes and wondered yet again about this love-hate relationship. But she didn’t worry about it much. She had her own love life to consider.
After the evening with Dan, Megan continued seeing him, mostly spending nights in his friend’s cottage. The sex didn’t improve, but she found herself enjoying their companionship and the long, beautiful evenings. They cooked together, walked on the beach, talked about books and travel. They laughed at silly jokes and hugged, kissed and fell into bed with the same results.
Despite the limp sex, it was a relationship Megan found comforting and enjoyable. Being part of a couple again was far better than going out alone. Dan’s surfing friends turned out to be great company, and they often had parties on the beach after surfing, cooking sausages, drinking beer and singing silly songs to the tune of a guitar late into the night. So the sex isn’t much, she told herself. But it might improve ... and I’m not alone anymore. That’s the most important part.
Megan drove into Tralee when she had a day off and bought a carload of cleaning material, paint and brushes. Paudie arrived unannounced a few days later, “just to inspect the work in progress”. He found Megan, halfway up a ladder, painting the living room wall.
“Well, look who’s here,” she said. “Hello, stranger. How are things with you?”
“Busy. This time of year always is. I came to look at the bullocks, but then I saw the windows and doors open and thought I’d take a look. So, you’re painting everything white?”
Megan put down the roller. “Yes. I like white walls and then lots of pictures. White makes a house so bright.”
He nodded. “True.” He looked up. “You painted the ceiling too. Hard work.”
“It’s awful. My arms were killing me. But that’s all done now, even upstairs.”
“That’s a lot of work for a girl.”
“For anyone, I�
��d think. But I have to do as much myself as I can. I had a glazier from Dingle town here earlier. He’ll replace all the broken glass in the windows, but he said most of the window frames are rotten and need replacing.” Megan sighed. “More money flying out of my bank account.”
“Well, old houses eat money. If you want to stop the decay, you’ll have to fork out the cash.”
Megan put the roller in the tray. “I know. But it’s a little painful at times.” She shook her arms. “God, I’m stiff.”
“Now you know what Michelangelo went through when he painted the Sistine Chapel. And he wasn’t a girl.”
Megan laughed. “No wonder he was always fighting with the Pope. Now, this girl wants a break. How about coffee?”
He helped her down from the ladder. “Sounds good. Could do with a break myself. Hang on. I’ll lock Denis in the jeep.”
“No, let him stay. We’ll have coffee outside. It’s such a lovely day.”
Megan quickly made coffee and took it outside, where Paudie had settled into one of the new deckchairs, Denis at his feet. He got up to take the tray. “Here. Let me take that.”
“Thanks. Put it on the table.”
“Good coffee. The real stuff.” Paudie remarked, taking a sip.
“I hate instant.” Megan threw a piece of her biscuit at Denis, who gobbled it up at once.
“Careful. Don’t spoil that dog. He won’t leave you alone now.”
“I don’t want him to.” Megan scratched Denis behind the ear. He came closer and licked her hand.
Paudie laughed. “See? He’s a sucker for a pretty girl.”
“And I’m a sucker for a cute dog.” She looked at him over the rim of her mug. “You look worn out.”
He sat back and closed his eyes to the sun. “I had a sick cow. Had to get the vet. Then I stayed up all night to see if she’d pull through.”
“Did she?”
“No. After all that, she died. Pity. One of my best breeders.” He opened his eyes and drank some coffee. “But that’s farming. Has its ups and downs. Mostly downs.”
“Why did you come back here, then? Why get into farming at all? You seemed to like Vermont.”
Paudie put his mug on the table. “To make a long story short, I came here when my dad got sick. Had to stay a long time. Then Dad died. I was going to sell the farm, but I had problems with my visa to the US. I had overstayed my visitor’s visa and had no work permit. I couldn’t go back. So I stayed here and then kept the farm going. And then, there was a woman…”
Megan settled deeper into the deck chair. “A woman? I know it’s probably not my business, but—”
There was pain deep in Paudie’s eyes as he looked at her. “No. None of your business. But for some reason, I don’t mind telling you.” He folded his arms and stared at the stream. “She was my… Don’t know how to put it.”
“Partner? Girlfriend?”
He shrugged. “Yes. All of that and more. American. A writer and journalist. Wrote for these fancy magazines. Vanity Fair. Stuff like that. She came here. Helped me nurse Dad. Then, when Dad died, she said she loved the place and made me do it up the way she liked it.”
“Oh. I was wondering about the living room. She did that?”
Paudie grabbed his mug. “Yes. Don’t go in there much myself now.”
“So what happened?”
“She left.”
Megan forgot about her coffee. “Oh. Why? Did you have a row?”
“No. She went back to Vermont to put her house on the market. Wanted to sell it and move over here permanently. We’d get married. But then, a month later, she phoned to say she wasn’t coming back and she’d write to tell me why. Turns out she got cold feet or something. Didn’t want to leave the good ol’ US.”
“Oh God. How terrible.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.” Megan didn’t know quite what to say.
“That’s not all. She did come back two months later. But by then I had drowned my sorrows. Or tried to. She arrived without warning and found me—”
“Drunk?”
Paudie let out a sad little laugh. “If only that was all. No, I was shagging some bird I picked up in Tralee. My ex walked in without warning. Walked right out again, of course. Never knew why she came back, though. Haven’t heard from her since.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Two years, I think. Something like that.”
“Oh.” Megan looked at Paudie. For some reason, they both started to laugh.
Paudie punched her shoulder. “That’s right, laugh. It’s kind of ridiculous when you think about it. If you’d witnessed it, you’d have been in stitches. There I was, stark bollock naked, humping away. The door opens and there she stands, wearing her white skirt and high heels, like Grace fucking Kelly.”
“What happened then?”
“Everything. It was like a farce. Everyone screaming. Didn’t take her long to get the hell out. And the poor bird I was with thought she was going to be killed by a wronged wife or something, so she took off as well.” Paudie sighed and ran his hand over his face. “I was a little shell-shocked for a while.”
“I can imagine,” Megan giggled. “Looks like you’re as unlucky in love as I am.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Haven’t had much luck since.”
“And Beata?”
“Smokes in bed.”
“That’s why you threw her out?”
He shot a look at Megan. “Is that what she said? That’s not what happened. I asked her to quit, and she packed her stuff and was gone before we could sort it out.”
“I take it you weren’t compatible?” Megan suggested.
“If you want to use a fancy word. Tricky business,” Paudie said. “Love, I mean.”
“Sure is.”
He glanced at her. “But you’re seeing Dan Nolan.”
“How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess. Saw you two at the pub a few weeks ago. You looked very cosy together. Thought you said you’d given up on men?”
Megan squirmed. “Well, it’s… I’m just… He—”
“He managed to get through your wall of defence? Smooth operator.”
“Doesn’t sound as if you like him much.”
Paudie laughed. “Like? No. I’ve seen him in action. Lawyers are a breed apart. Dan Nolan would convict his own granny to win a case.”
“I’ve never seen that side of him.”
Paudie lifted an eyebrow. “No? I’m sure he’s hot stuff in private.”
Megan blushed. “That’s right.” She wondered what Paudie would say if she told him that Dan was everything but hot in bed. If he knew that even though the sex wasn’t what she had hoped, the rest of her relationship with Dan was soothing and loving, helping her to heal. He’d probably scoff at it. “I’m very happy with him,” she said.
“That’s good, then.” Paudie got up. “Have to get going.”
Megan scrambled to get out of the deckchair. “Yes, me too.”`
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Their eyes met for an instant. Megan was the first to look away.
Paudie touched her shoulder. “Take care, girl. Don’t let anyone walk on you. Least of all Dan Nolan.” He strolled away with Denis at his heels.
***
“Five thousand,” the man said.
Megan gulped. “That’s the lowest price? For a septic tank? Oh God, I didn’t believe it would be that much. I’ll have to think about this.”
The man shrugged. “Don’t think too long. The old system is, if you forgive me, total crap. You’ll have trouble if you don’t update it.”
“Shit.”
“Yes, that’s what you’ll have. All over the garden if the stream decided to flood.” He walked back to the front gate where his van was parked. He handed Megan a card. “Here’s my number. Call me when you’ve made up your mind.”
Megan sighed and took the ca
rd. “No need. I’ve made up my mind. This has to be done. So, when can you come? The plumber will be here on Wednesday to replace the pipes, so…”
He consulted his diary. “Hmm, I haven’t got a lot of jobs at the moment, so we could come on Tuesday. That way it’ll be done in time for the plumber to connect the rest to the new tank.”
“Brilliant.” Megan mentally waved goodbye to her entire savings. “See you then.”
He drove off, and Megan sank down on a deckchair, her legs shaking, wondering for the hundredth time if she was completely sane. With the electricity, plumbing and septic tank, more than ten thousand of her carefully saved euros would be gone. Oh well, it was only money. She had fifteen thousand left for her old age and the two months’ severance pay. Plus the salary Beata was paying her and the dole money she collected every week. Enough to get by for a short while.
She looked up as she heard the gate open. A woman entered the garden and looked around. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Hello?” she chanted. “Anyone home?”
Megan got up. “Yes. I’m here, by the back door.”
“Oh.” The woman approached. “Hello. You must be Megan. I’m Diana Connolly-Smith. From Hollyville House over there.” She waved her hand in the direction of a clump of trees further up the road. “Should have come to say hello earlier, but two of our mares foaled at nearly exactly the same time, so I didn’t get a chance until that was out of the way. You know what horses are like.”
“Yes. I mean, no. Don’t know much about horses.” Megan held out her hand. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”
Diana was tall and rangy with mousy brown hair in a messy bun and bright blue-green eyes in a youngish but weather-beaten face. Her handshake was firm, her gaze direct and her smile friendly. She wore riding boots, stained jodhpurs and a quilted waistcoat over a green man’s shirt. “Sorry, should have changed my clothes, but I have to go back to see to the calves. Farming is a dirty business, don’t you know?”
“I suppose.”
“Anyway, just came to tell you that we’ll be putting two mares and foals in the field here beside you tomorrow. Paudie is putting the sheep up the mountains, so he said I could put them here. Hope you don’t mind.”
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