Page 4 of Christmas Magic at Inishbeg Cove

They eventually arrived in the village and he parked across the street from a supermarket with the name ‘O’Herlihy’s’ over the front door. ‘I have a few errands to run but if you don’t mind waiting, I can run you back up the road in around in about an hour?’

‘That would be great, thanks, Conor.’

‘If you’re finished earlier than that, The Anchor is open and you could get yourself a drink while you’re waiting,’ he suggested.

‘Okay, sounds good.’

She crossed the road towards the supermarket and saw the snow had been cleared from the path. A Christmas tree had been erected in front of the cove and it twinkled prettily. The shopfronts had holly garlands strewn across their facades and looked like a scene from a Christmas card. She pushed the door to O’Herlihy’s and went inside.

‘You’re lucky,’ a woman called to her startling her from her thoughts as she entered, ‘I was just about to close up for the day. Nobody is about in this weather.’ She shook her head.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Faye said picking up a basket. ‘I’ll be really quick, I promise.’ Tinsel that looked like it had been used every year since the seventies was strung diagonally across the ceiling in an a weak effort at decorating.

‘We’ve no fresh milk or bread and I’m afraid if you’re looking for a turkey, we’ve none left,’ the woman continued. ‘The delivery drivers weren’t able to get out here this morning.’

Margo had warned her that the supermarket was small and that she should bring supplies with her, especially if she wanted anything special like goose fat or brandy butter. Little did Margo know that Faye had eaten a microwaveable lasagne for Christmas dinner for the last three years in a row, but with no electricity in the cottage, it looked like this year she’d have to make do with pasta and a jar of sauce.

‘Don’t worry I can manage without those,’ Faye said. ‘Sorry I’ll grab what I need really quickly and then I’ll leave you alone.’

She began to browse the aisles and found a bag of pasta and a creamy tomato sauce. She also put a tin of bins, pot noodles, a jar of instant coffee and a large bar of chocolate into her basket. She found batteries for the torch, candles and a box of matches too. Then she came to the wine aisle and put a bottle of Malbec into her basket, before reaching for a second one. She knew she’d probably need it. Lastly, she found a bag of logs and she hauled everything up to the checkout.

‘You’re not from ‘round these parts then?’ the woman remarked.

‘No, I’m down from Dublin. I’m staying in Mistletoe Cottage for a few days.’

‘I believe ye’ve no power up on the headland.’

‘No, the lights went out last night. Hopefully it will be back soon.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it… They always get it worse up there on the headland. Well, you’re very welcome to Inishbeg Cove. I’m Audrey O’Herlihy.’ She stuck out her hand and shook Faye’s.

‘Nice to meet you, Audrey. I’m Faye.’ She returned the woman’s handshake. ‘Faye O’Leary.’

‘Are you a friend of the Flynn’s then?’ Audrey enquired still pumping her hand heartily.

Faye nodded. ‘Well I don’t know the whole Flynn family. Only Margo – she’s my boss. She wasn’t able to make it home for Christmas this year so she gave me her cottage for the holidays.’

‘She didn’t come home for Christmas?’ Audrey tutted, her tone full of judgement. ‘Too busy with that high fallutin’ job she has, I suppose…’ She eyed up Faye’s purchases as she scanned them through the checkout. ‘I hope these aren’t for your Christmas dinner?’

‘I’m not much of a cook,’ Faye admitted.

She lifted a bag of penne pasta and looked at Faye in horror. ‘You can’t eat pasta on Christmas day!’

‘It really doesn’t bother me,’ Faye said, wishing the woman would just scan her groceries and leave her alone.

‘The Flynns wouldn’t see you stuck. Úna – she’s married to Margo’s brother Paul - is a lovely woman and a great cook too, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you joining her family,’ Mrs O’Herlihy suggested.

‘I prefer to spend the day on my own,’ Faye replied, and took perverse satisfaction in watching Audrey’s jaw drop. She bagged up her groceries and used her other hand to haul the bag of logs. She said goodbye to Mrs O’Herlihy and stepped outside onto the main street again, shivering as the chilly air invaded the gap beneath her coat. She checked her watch and saw she had a while still to wait for Conor, so she decided to head to The Anchor like he’d told her to.

She made way up the street taking care on the icy pavement. Although the snow had been cleared into mounds on either side, the path was icy. She found the pub and pushed the timber door and went inside. She was glad to see the fire was on and the air was scented with the comforting smell of woodsmoke. An elderly dog was sprawled in front of the fire and gave a wag of his tail without raising his head. Christmas music was playing softly in the background. She made her way up to the bar and deposited her groceries at her feet, her hands glad of the break. Once again she was thankful that Conor was able to bring her home; she knew there was no way she’d manage to haul the logs and all her groceries back up to the cottage through the knee-deep snow.

‘What can I get you?’ The barman asked. He had a round and friendly face.

‘Something warm,’ Faye said, rubbing her hands together.

‘We have mulled wine or I could make you a hot whiskey?’ he offered.

‘A mulled wine sounds heavenly. Do you do food?’ she asked.