‘That’s the greatest asset we possess, remember that. These are from my son, he’s so thoughtful.’
‘I will and thank you again for my most amazing gift, I will cherish this forever.’ I pull her very gently into an embrace again. She feels cold from the draught of the door. Raising my hand behind Mrs Schwartz’s back I admire the ring once more. Then, I say a silent prayer that it takes me safely back to where my ancestors originated. Safely back to Ireland.
SIX
Sixteen hours later, my confidence is well and truly shattered. Petrified, I screech again as a huge black and white Guinness truck comes swinging around the tight bend on the impossibly narrow road.
‘I can’t do this, I can’t do this .?.?. I thought driving in New York traffic was scary!’ I scream at myself in my little car, driving on the opposite side of the road than I am used to. The wipers are sloshing the heavy snowfall from the windscreen as I chug along through the vast, open countryside and jagged coastline of County Galway. I’d made it out of Dublin okay on the main roads, even singing along to Christmas FM, but as I passed through Galway city and out towards Connemara, the uneven mountains rose ahead of me. Sweeping brown and green colours of rugged earth. The roads became narrower, darker, more uneven, bumpy and winding as I began to lose my nerve and slammed off the radio a few kilometres back. ‘Yes, you can do this!’ I shout out again, ‘just keep driving. You can’t turn back now!’ But I want to. Every part of my being wants to be in my mom’s kitchen in Scarsdale drinking hot chocolate. I grip the steering wheel like it’s a lifeline, my knuckles white as the falling snow as I focus on the road.
But the air is clearer than I could ever have imagined. As I’dstepped out of the airport, I had stopped to breathe in the sharp, crisp Irish breeze. I’m completely in awe of the landscape, not a skyscraper in sight as I stare out ahead. Flat land for as far as my eye can see. Despite my terror, I do feel the welcome space of my surroundings.
I’m still gripping the wheel when another colossal truck approaches me at speed, a huge bus on its tail. ‘Oh, help me, Mom! I am turning back! I want to go home!’ I pray as I press down on the horn in the centre of the steering wheel and the truck flashes its array of orange and white lights at me. Quickly, I go down the gears and stop the car with a jolt. The truck driver slows to a crawl.Peadar’s Power Hosingis written in block letters on the side of the truck, then it stops and the window rolls down. I see a bald head with a cigarette dangling from the right side of the man’s mouth.
‘We rarely beep our horns in these parts. What ails ya? Yid get the double decker bus behind past me! All ya need to do is to hug the brambles,’ he bellows at me but with a surprisingly friendly tone.
‘H-huh? Hug the brambles? What does that mean?’ I stare up at him, wild eyed and trembling. I know I’m close to tears. I should have let Salma do this job, it’s too much for me. I feel my breathing become more erratic.
‘Hey, relax in there, you’re grand. That’s your side of the road, next to the brambles – the bushes. Stay tight and you’ll be safe and sound, plenty of room, trust me,’ he says kindly down to me.
‘Okay, thank you.’ I sniff repeatedly, the mini breaths helping.
‘Now take it easy, no more honking of the horn, it scares the sheep.’ He talks without removing the cigarette, a plume of smoke rising as he pulls and then puffs it out.
‘Hug the brambles,’ I repeat, my head stuck out my open window. I clutch the steering wheel even tighter and force a nervous smile. ‘But won’t that scratch the car?’
‘You’re driving in a rural area, feck all you can do about it. Now I hope ya have a licence for tha’?’ He throws down to me again.
‘For this car, yes, um, somewhere. It’s in the envelope, hold on please.’ I pull my head back inside and twist around to retrieve my soft brown leather work satchel from the back seat.
‘Not for the car, for that winning smile.’ He guffaws, a great big belly laugh, and I’m amazed that the row of cars lined up behind aren’t honking at him to move. He revs the truck loudly. ‘Merry Christmas, agus slán abhaile!’
‘Quite the charmer,’ I mutter, pulling up the window. I struggle to get the car into first gear, pressing down harder on the clutch as it jerks forward and I drive on.
‘Hug the brambles, hug the brambles, hug the brambles.’ I use it as my mantra as I slowly pass the truck and the bus and it begins to work. I calm a little, hugging the brambles like a pro and feeling the road open up. My Sat Nav talks again, instructing me to continue straight for three kilometres.
‘You got it,’ I tell the Sat Nav, as my phone beeps and it reads the message out automatically.
‘Hey, Magpie, how is the Emerald Isle? Ben asked me on a date to the Acquired Finance Christmas Ball! I’ll send pics! Baby Eliza’s are looking good! Love ya!’
‘Oh! Enjoy, you guys,’ I say, my eyes still glued to the road. I’m genuinely so happy for both Eliza and Ben. Good things to good people. ‘Okay, you got this. It’s a small road, that’s all. You’re in Ireland!’ My nose is only inches from the windscreen as a blanket of snow continues to fall. ‘Just relax, like Peadar Power Hose told you to.’
No other vehicles approaching now as I allow my eyes to dart speedily as the moon emerges from behind a cloud, illuminating the area. I take in the vast open fields and the patches of green grass where the snow has melted.
The riot of grey stone-built walls dividing the sweeping landscape that seem to multiply out. Down, down as far as my eye can see. Sheep graze, cows meander and horses with rugs on neigh loudly and gallop freely through the paddocks. I haven’t been outside of New York since I was thirteen so all this wide countryside is kind of blowing my mind. It feels so big yet so small. The very opposite to New York. These wide-open spaces are actually beginning to calm me down.
My seat belt strains as I continue to lean close to the windscreen. ‘Oh. My. God,’ I whisper. My hands loosen on the wheel as I stare up ahead.
There it is.
Perched high up on a clifftop.
Castlemoon.
The castle is truly spectacular in the early glow of the silvery moon that streams in and out from behind the dark clouds. Castlemoon rises into full view in the distance. The brightest stars twinkle and glimmer in the night sky above it. It’s like something from a century long ago, all lit up for Christmas, a fairytale castle. It’s the most beautiful sight.
‘I made it,’ I whisper. I can actually feel my blood pumping through my veins as I press my foot down harder on the accelerator and drive a little faster up the steep winding road. I honestly didn’t think I had it in me! If mom or Jill said it was too much, I may well have chickened out. But I didn’t, and right now I couldn’t be prouder of myself!
The Sat Nav directs me up another ridiculously narrow hill and I take my foot off the pedal a little, cautiously navigating the pitch black roads. Brambles sway as I pass. Flicking the wipers on again, I flush the fresh snowfall from the windscreen. As I turn around a sharp bend, I see a light up ahead. Then, my headlights beam onto a huge rugged stone that reads:
