Page 23 of Coming Home to Inishbeg Cove

Chapter 15

Penny

Tadgh pushed open the door of the Anchor and we walked inside together. Although it had been several years since I was last here, its peaty smell was still familiar to my nostrils. I looked around. The décor hadn’t changed a bit. Skipper the dog raised his head from the flagstones to check who had come in then lowered it again once his curiosity had been satisfied.

‘I can’t believe Skipper is still alive!’ I remarked as we made our way to the bar. ‘He’s ancient!’

‘Do you remember the day Jim rescued him from the sea after some idiot had tied a rock around his neck and tried to drown him?’ Tadgh said.

‘Oh, yes. It was all anyone talked about for weeks. He was only a tiny pup. Well, he landed on his four paws the day he met Jim.’

‘Ah, if it isn’t yourself!’ Jim exclaimed when he saw me. His round friendly face beamed a smile. ‘You’re down from Dublin, then?’

‘For a little while, yeah. How’s Maureen?’ I replied.

‘She’s keeping the finest,’ Jim said. ‘She’s busy in the B&B at this time of year, of course. She’s booked out for the whole summer. How’s your little one doing? Sorry, I’m terrible with names these days.’

‘Lucy. She’s good.’

‘And himself – the artist fella?’ Jim asked.

‘Joe is fine,’ I said, looking over to Skipper, who was sprawled in front of the roaring fire.

‘So how long are you down for?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’ I traced my fingers over a knot in the mahogany wood of the bar.

‘What would you like, Penny?’ Tadgh asked, as if sensing my discomfort.

‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.’

‘And I’ll have a pint, Jim.’

‘Right so,’ Jim said as he began to pull Tadgh’s pint of Guinness. He placed the drinks on the bar when he was finished. Tadgh paid him then we sat down in a snug.

‘So how are you doing?’ Tadgh began. I knew it was a loaded question.

‘I’m good thanks,’ I lied. I was getting really good at this. The words slipped off my tongue like butter off a knife.

Tadgh paused. ‘Look, Penny, we go back a long way. You don’t have to put on a brave face for me.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

He took a sip from his creamy pint. ‘I know about you and Joe—’

Anger rose within me. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your mother told me,’ he confessed, not meeting my eyes.

‘She did what?’ I felt hurt and betrayed. I could imagine them having a chat about me, their heads tilted in concern, saying things like, ‘Ah, poor Penny, she didn’t see it coming at all’ or ‘Pat and I always knew he’d do something like this to her. We never liked him. We tried to warn her...’. My cheeks burned with shame.

‘Look, don’t be angry with her,’ Tadgh pleaded, placing his pint on the table. ‘She didn’t go into all the gory details. She’s concerned about you, that’s all.’

Just then the reason for Tadgh’s persistence about us going for a drink together began to click into place. It had probably been Mam’s idea all along.

‘Was this her idea?’ I snapped. ‘A pity party for Penny?’

‘No, of course not,’ he said unconvincingly. He shifted in his seat and began to tear up his beer mat. ‘I wanted to catch up with you.’