‘Well I hope it’s not as pungent as the walk here,’ said Meredith.
Conor winced. ‘Yes. I’m sorry about that. Murphy again. His latest protest is an unwelcome manure pile right on the boundary, but at least it’s not outside the main gateway to the farm like it was last time. He’s like a stone in our shoes. He’s not happy that I’m completely rebuilding one of the cottages, though he knows full well it’s not for renting out. I’ll be living there.’
‘Why wouldn’t he be happy about it?’ asked Izzy with a puzzled frown.
‘Success breeds envy,’ said Conor, his mouth turning down at one corner in sympathy. ‘It’s not easy to make money just from sheep farming and it’s hard work. He sees Mam attracting people from all over the world. We hold food festivals, the Orchard Dinner and famous chefs visit, all of which get covered in the local paper. He’s none too happy about it happening right next door to him, even though it doesn’t really impact on him. We have shared access on the road up from the main road and at least once a month his tractor breaks down in the middle of it.’
‘But your mum works really hard,’ objected Meredith.
‘He doesn’t see that,’ replied Conor dryly.
The strains of violin started and a duo of a guitarist and violinist, one standing, one seated in the small corner near the bar, began to play a folksong. Almost everyone in the pub seemed to know it as they stopped talking when the young man on the guitar began to sing, his floppy curls bouncing in time to the music. The girl playing the violin next to him had the same dark hair and well-defined features and they shared the same pointed chin and dreamy smiles as they played.
Soon people began to clap in time and quite a few began to sing along. When the song came to an end, there were a few shouts and whoops before they launched into the more familiar ‘Wild Rover’.
‘They’re good,’ said Izzy.
‘They’ve been playing for years. Brother and sister, although they’re just home for the summer break. They’re both at Trinity in Dublin.’
‘Do they have a name?’
Conor laughed. ‘Rory and Roisin. The Two Rs. That’s what they call themselves. They’ve been playing here since they were youngsters. Barra’s their cousin.’
‘Does Barra own the pub? asked Hannah.
‘Yes, well, he took it over from his granda a while back. His da died. He was a fisherman out of Dingle. Swept overboard in a storm in ‘97.’
‘Do you know everyone round here?’ asked Meredith.
‘Pretty much.’
‘That must be nice,’ said Hannah, thinking of her apartment block where she knew a few people by sight but no one ever said hello.
‘It has its downsides. Mrs Clonnarty, who runs the post office, still remembers catching me and Rona McPhail skinny-dipping when we were fourteen and loves to remind me, especially when she’s got an audience of tourists in the shop.’ He gave a rueful grin. ‘Rona’s now married with four girls and has the loudest laugh you ever heard. She’s a great girl but I could do without Mrs C remembering my misspent youth every time I put a letter in the mail.’
They all laughed and Hannah had to give him a brownie point for poking fun at himself. Though clearly, once a player always a player. And why was she telling herself something she already knew?
When the darts players re-joined them, she had to squish up on the bench with Conor next to her. His proximity was both heaven and hell. She could feel the warmth of his thigh through the jeans he wore and every time he leaned forward to grasp his pint, she got a waft of his lemony aftershave which brought memories back in wave after wave of sensation. She had to think hard to stop herself from remembering all that had happened in that hotel room.
She tried instead to focus on the atmosphere in the pub. Everyone had relaxed into the weekend and that good-natured vibe of being off duty seemed to have been reinforced by the music. Everywhere she looked, people to a man were smiling, nodding, and toe-tapping as the young couple continued to play a mix of songs, all with an Irish flavour from U2, The Cranberries, Damien Rice and a couple of haunting more folky melodies that she didn’t know.
‘Hey, Conor Byrne,’ called Barra from the bar. ‘Give us a song with your brother.’
There was a shout of approval from the young lads surrounding Fergus, who began pushing him forward.
Conor rose with a grin. ‘If I must.’ He and his brother conferred for a moment with Rory and Roisin and then she handed over her violin to Fergus who tapped the bow and counted to three as Rory burst into a rousing and vaguely familiar tune.
‘One of my favourites,’ said Alan with a broad smile, tapping his hand on the table in time.
‘What is it?’ whispered Hannah, not quite being able to place it.
‘One of the greats. “Fisherman’s Blues”by The Waterboys.’
With a loud whoop, Conor began singing while Fergus played violin with great panache, dancing as he did. Conor had a husky, deep voice which he belted out to the obvious delight of the regulars. The two of them were clearly old hands as they played to the crowd, singing to different people and receiving enthusiastic applause and shouts of approval. Together they had that stage presence that some people seemed to be blessed with and Hannah couldn’t help smiling and clapping. Most of the crowd began to sing along. The joy of the music and the simple pleasure of being among happy people was infectious and soon the whole table was joining in the chorus. Quite a few people were up and dancing.
As soon as the song finished, they segued straight into ‘The Whole of the Moon’, much to the delight of the entire pub who joined in with the words. Conor moved around the pub, a real showman, dancing with some of the girls and serenading them, with a big smile on his face. He was clearly in his element. Hannah ignored the quick pang of jealousy. She had no reason to feel anything towards Conor. They’d had an ill-advised night and it was over and done with. Determined to enjoy herself and not think about him, she gave into the infectious atmosphere and tugged on Izzy’s hand to pull her up to dance. Then Alan asked Meredith and soon the whole pub was on its feet, dancing and singing. At one dizzying point she danced into Conor’s orbit. He caught her eye and she couldn’t look away. There was a gentle tilt to his mouth as he smiled at her and in that moment she could have sworn he was singing the line,the whole of the moon, to her… or maybe it was wishful thinking.
When the song finished to riotous applause, Conor took a bow, clapped his hands towards Rory, and shouldered his way through the crowd back to Hannah’s table. Everyone wanted to stop him and pat him on the back. When he sat down, draining his pint in one, his eyes shone and his grin was as wide as ever.
