Page 9 of Coming Home to Inishbeg Cove

As I walked, I saw that Ruairí’s café had tables and chairs outside under the blue-and-white striped awning, and hanging baskets bursting with petunias and pansies brightened the wall on either side. Next door, the old butchers had been transformed into an ice-cream shop. That hadn’t been there the last time I was home. A vintage-esque sign overhead read Greg’s Ice-cream Parlour. I wondered if this was the famous Greg that Sarah had married. When I reached it, I peered in through the window. A long counter ran down the middle, with stools tucked beneath it, and a few booths hugged the wall like in a traditional ice-cream parlour from an old American movie. The facade had been painted calamine pink, adding a lovely splash of colour to the main street. Immediately Joe’s mocking voice was in my head, saying, ‘How twee.’ I pushed it out quickly and kept walking.

Across the street the wedding bunting still decorated the village hall, and the pastel-coloured flags rippled gently in the breeze. I had spent so much of my childhood in the village hall at Irish dancing feiseanna or at my friends’ birthday parties. It had even served as a temporary school when the roof had blown off Inishbeg Cove National School during a particularly violent storm. It was the last place I would have imagined being used as a wedding venue, but seeing it here on this glorious sunny day, decorated so prettily, I had to admit that it gave the minimalist Dublin hotel where Joe and I had married a run for its money.

Lucy and I headed for the path through the dunes that led down to the cove. I inhaled the salty air deep into my lungs, breathing in the smell of home that I loved, cleansing my lungs of polluted city air. As I took off my sandals and walked barefoot on the sand, I instantly felt my shoulders start to relax; I really believed the air here had medicinal qualities. A group of sea swimmers wrapped in towels stood around chatting and drinking from thermos flasks. The sea was calm, and waves broke gently on the shoreline before sweeping along the rippled sand. Gulls screeched above us as they scavenged the sand for creatures washed up by the outgoing tide. Lucy ran along in front of me searching for shells to put in the bucket I had bought in O’Herlihy’s.

‘Ook, Mama,’ she called.

I walked over and bent down to look at the shell she handed me. ‘Wow, that’s so pretty, Lucy.’

I stood back up and looked out to where a man was paddling a surfboard. The waves were calm that day, so he couldn’t have been a regular surfer in chase of the foam. He stood up when the water grew too shallow to paddle any more and walked towards the shore, tucking his board underneath his arm. As he got closer, I realised with a start that it was Tadgh. I watched him as he waded through the shallow water, oblivious to his audience. He was carrying a crab in his other hand. I couldn’t believe he still caught his crabs by hand this way. He walked up the beach and put the crab in his bucket that he had left on the sand. He dropped his board and ran his fingers through his dark hair, scattering water droplets everywhere. Before I could stop her, Lucy had run over to him and was peering into his bucket.

‘What in there?’ I could hear her ask.

‘They’re crabs,’ he said.

I quickly followed her over, my heart racing.

‘Penny?’ Tadgh said, recognising me as I got closer. He was clearly as surprised as I was.

‘Hi, Tadgh. I see you’ve taken on the family method of crab fishing.’

‘What can I say? It’s in the genes. God, I can’t believe it’s you. It must be – what? Twelve years since I saw you?’ He shook his head, but his eyes stayed locked on mine.

I looked down at the crabs as they sidled around the bucket.

‘So, how’ve you been?’ he continued. ‘You look great, you haven’t changed a bit.’

‘Well, I don’t think that’s true, but thank you.’

‘Is this your daughter?’

I nodded. ‘Lucy, say hi to Tadgh.’

‘Hi-lo, Tadgh.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Lucy,’ he said, proffering his hand.

She scrunched up her nose in disgust at the hand that had just held a crab. ‘Urgh, yacky hands.’

We started to laugh.

‘I don’t blame you,’ Tadgh said to her before looking back at me. ‘She looks just like you.’

I had always thought she looked more like Joe, but maybe Tadgh could see some of me in her.

‘So, how’ve you been? Still living in Dublin?’

I nodded.

‘Are you back visiting your folks?’

‘Just for a few days. How’s everything with you?’

‘Well, I’m still running the restaurant and it’s busy, thank God, especially now we’re coming into the summer season. Would you believe that Senan will be doing his Leaving Cert next month and, all going well, will be heading to college in September?’

‘Wow, that makes me feel old.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he said, laughing. ‘I heard you married Joe de Paor,’ he said after a pause. ‘Your parents keep me up to date with all your comings and goings.’

I nodded, unable to find any words.

‘I see his work mentioned in the papers from time to time. He seems to be doing really well.’

‘What about you? Are you married?’ I asked, keen to move the conversation away from Joe.

He looked momentarily wounded. ‘No ... I guess I’ve been busy with the restaurant, and Senan, of course.’

Awkwardness charged the air between us. I found myself unable to say anything. It was as if my brain had abandoned me.

‘Well, it’s been really good to see you, Penny. I’d better take these guys back to the restaurant.’ He indicated the bucket. ‘I’ve a full house tonight. Why don’t you and Lucy drop by for lunch some day? I’d love you to see it – it’s changed a lot since you were last there.’

‘Sure, Tadgh, that would be lovely.’

But I knew as I said the words, I was just paying him lip service. I had avoided his restaurant ever since I had left Inishbeg Cove, and I certainly wouldn’t be going there this time either.