‘Oh, yes, I saw her at Aisling and Aaron’s wedding!’ I recall her cool maternity outfit now and white side hat with the red pumps.
‘Boy, has she a fascinating story to tell about childhood. She was adopted by her mother’s sister. By all accounts their wedding will be filled with family dramas. Her birth mother and her adopted mother won’t have seen each other face to face in thirty years! Imagine. Nice socks by the way,’ Dan says, extending his hand for me to take. ‘Here, careful on that ankle as you walk, lean on me.’
I look down to my feet. Oh Lord! In the hurry of getting ready I’ve pulled on two odd socks, one black and one white.
‘Oh great!’ But I laugh and, unusually, I’m not embarrassed. ‘That sounds like one drama filled wedding.’
‘Block yer ears.’
I place a hand over both ears, press my palms in.
‘Terrrrrryyyyyy. Feckin’ gate’s jammed shut again,’ Dan hollers, his own hands cupped on either side of his mouth.
Dan reaches back and wraps a protective arm around my shoulder. He holds me tight and that protected feeling that I’ve never had before is back. I feel utterly safe and it’s alien but wonderful. I duck again as we head back through the cellar. When we reach the gate, the biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life is standing there with the gate literally lifted up on his left shoulder. I almost giggle.
‘Well, you’ll never guess what I just found in the .?.?.’ Terry stops immediately when he sees me. ‘Oh good evening, pleasepardon me. I didn’t know His Lordship had company.’ He is politeness personified.
Dan releases my hand, but not before Terry clocks it and we go back up the winding stairs into the delicious heat of the Sweet Orange Room to the blazing turf fire that Terry has attended to. It’s a smell I could inhale forever. In fact, I wish I could stay here forever.
But I can’t.
NINETEEN
‘That’s down for the day.’ Dan motions towards the snow still pelting down outside. ‘I need to get into the village, T. Faith is getting closer.’
‘Shall I bring the jeep around for you?’ Terry asks. ‘We’re going to need more turf in case we get snowed in like last year?’
‘Good idea.’ Dan peers out the window.
‘I do apologise, we still have not made an acquaintance.’ Terry’s voice is surprisingly upper-class English, very posh, like Hugh Grant only deeper. Standing at about six-foot-five, I’m guessing, he has a thick black beard that covers his entire neck and black thick rimmed glasses, and is in khaki paint-splattered overalls and black wellington boots. Why I assumed he was Heartwell born I have no idea. Seems a lot of Heartwell folk aren’t from Heartwell originally at all.
‘Maggie Grace, lovely to meet you.’ I take his huge, hot hand.
‘Pull the jeep right up to the front door, please. There is more heavy snow up in those skies there too,’ Dan says.
‘I need to talk to you about the village meeting .?.?.’ Terry starts.
Dan jumps in.
‘Can it wait? Because this can’t.’ Dan picks up a newspaper scattered on one of the tables.
‘Of course.’ Terry turns to me. ‘It was my great pleasure, Miss Maggie.’ Terry reaches for my hand and kisses it.
‘Well now, I do feel allDownton Abbey.’ Now, I do giggle.
‘I tend to apply the old-fashioned traditions. Courtesy, a gesture of respect and admiration are traits I think the world should hold onto and needs more of. My good lady, Giselle, agrees,’ Terry says but with a glint of humour in his eye.
‘Maggie, go get your shoes and coat on and I’ll meet you at the front door,’ Dan instructs me.
‘What? Where are we going?’ I’m confused.
‘To help you find those Irish great-great-grandparents.’ Dan laughs. ‘We’ll catch Marina before she closes up the genealogy centre for the day. She’s the best in the business, no website can compare. People travel from all over to see her but we need to hurry, she leaves to go home to Berlin for Christmas soon.’
‘Are you sure?’ I clench my fists; I’m thrilled.
‘Course I am, now hurry.’ Dan shoos me on.
‘Is Marina finally off to meet this online man?’ Terry grunts.
