Rosie and her sister are hanging out bunting.
‘That’s lovely. Who made it?’
‘Maire,’ they say in unison.
‘Gerald gave her all his ex-wife’s clothes. She’s been running it up into bunting all morning,’ Rosie says from the ladder as she hangs it on the outside of the barn. The sun is pushing further up the sky. It sparkles off the water like thousands of tiny fairy lights. The heron is watching from his position on the jetty. On the rocks further out I can see movement.
‘The seals.’ Sean’s beside me.
‘The seals!’ I say excitedly, before remembering that he and I may be working together for the festival but we’re not really speaking, despite my insides doing a bongo dance at his very presence. The tide is beginning to slip back down the shore, leaving patterns in the sand. I hope today is the start of a new pattern that will keep coming back year after year.
‘Hey, Fi!’ I turn to see Frank leading Freddie who iswhining in sheer joy. Mercury is following, as is a little white donkey.
‘Frank! We only lost two donkeys.’
‘Freddie wouldn’t come without her. Besides, the owner wanted shot of her. Can’t afford to keep her on. She can pull a cart and everything. I thought we could use her to bring in the oysters,’ he says. Freddie is standing beside his true love, happier than I’ve seen him in weeks. I look at Sean.
‘Room for another waif?’
He shrugs and smiles.
‘Maybe Freddie could give rides too?’ I say, as Frank rubs his long ears.
‘Great idea.’ He gives me the thumbs up.
The farm is looking fantastic. I walk over to the old barn and Sean follows me. Inside there are tables covered with white paper from a big roll we’ve found. At one end is a long table on its own where I’ve organised for the shell-shucking competition to take place.
‘The judges are on their way from Galway and Margaret’s got the list of entrants. The oysters are all ready in the shed.’ I’m going through my list out loud.
Inside the barn Maire is stepping back from a huge mirror she’s put on top of the stone fireplace. The surround is made from hundreds of oyster shells.
‘Maire, it’s wonderful!’ I’m stunned.
‘Thought this was just the place for it,’ she says with a smile. ‘Who knows, maybe someone will want to buy it. I’ve got a few other small ones if it’s OK to put them up?’
‘It’s the perfect place to show them, Maire. Let’s hope you get lots of buyers.’
Tea lights are being placed on all the tables by Patsy’s wife, and there’s a pile of plastic plates and cutlery.
I help move the blackboard over from the shed to write up the contestants’ names and their scores.
‘And can we get a table set up over there for the bar?’ Iinstruct Seamus and Padraig, who do as I ask without question. There are more tables and chairs round the outside of the big room.
‘Actually, English, I need to talk to you,’ Sean says, as I’m laying out the big bell and clipboards.
‘Not now, Sean. We’ll talk later, eh? Let’s just have today,’ I say. He says nothing then gives a tiny nod.
‘Where d’you want it?’ Patsy comes in carrying a huge barrel of beer on his chest. ‘Oh, and this is Grainne, a freelance journalist from Galway. Found her down at the marquee site. Nancy organised for her to come, she wants to cover the day.’
‘Great,’ I say to the young woman. ‘It’s Margaret you need to speak to. She’ll be here soon. Make yourself at home. Or better still, make yourself useful,’ I say, giving her a paintbrush and pointing towards a sheet that needs a sign painting on it.
‘Sure. And you’re …’
‘Fi, just Fi,’ I say.
‘Not from round here then,’ she says, holding a pen over her notebook.
‘No,’ I say, ‘I’m a blow-in.’ She gives me a look that says she’d like to know more, but I make a quick sidestep and leave her to paint while I go and find Dan who’s setting up the barbecue.
