Page 7 of Christmas Magic at Inishbeg Cove

She stormed up the stairs towards her bedroom. She opened her case which she still hadn’t unpacked and looked inside. The whole thing was farcical. It felt as though she was on one of those hidden camera shows; she was waiting for someone to jump out and say ‘Gotcha!’ except she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, they always did. If these people hadn’t been related to Margo, she would have told them all to get lost but she didn’t want Margo getting any bad reports about her being rude. As she lifted out her leggings and sweatshirts, she wondered what she was supposed to wear? She hadn’t brought any dressy clothes because she didn’t think she’d be socialising. She would have to make do with a pair of jeans teamed with an emerald green cashmere crew neck. It was hardly festive attire but the Flynns would have to take her as they got her. She ran a brush through her hair and put on some tinted moisturiser to give her skin a glow, then she headed back down to Conor.

He smiled at her as she descended the stairs.

‘Is this okay?’ she asked. She didn’t know how formal Christmas was in the Flynn household and she didn’t want to look like she hadn’t made an effort.

‘You look great.’

She hurried past him and picked up her laptop bag. ‘Right, let’s go then.’

‘Where are you going with that?’

‘I need to charge it and I think that’s a fair trade-off given the circumstances.’

‘All right,’ he conceded. ‘It’s a deal.’ He grinned at her and the smile spread right up to his eyes. He had an infuriating way of making her feel bad for her grumpiness. She had only known him for two days and he always seemed so laid back, like nothing would ever stress him out. She slipped her arms down into the sleeves of her coat and wound her new scarf around her neck before they headed outside to the tractor.

5

Faye hopped up into the passenger seat and they trundled up the hill towards Conor’s grandmother’s house. It was ironic that she had never been in a tractor before she had come to Inishbeg Cove and now since she had arrived in the village, it had become her main mode of transport. She looked out the windscreen at the white landscape where snow was still piled up in drifts on either side of the boreen. Her heart filled with a sinking feeling; she had been planning on returning to Dublin the following day but as she looked at the tracks of compacted snow left behind by the tractor’s chunky tyres, she knew there was no way she would be going home any time soon.

They travelled a short distance up the road, the tractor’s tyres making easy work of the snow covered road and finally they turned into a gateway and followed the road down to a traditional two storey farmhouse clad in white-tipped ivy. ‘This is Gran’s house. It’s where my dad and Margo grew up. My parents built their house across the field over there,’ he gestured towards another house in the distance. That’s where I live too. I’ve renovated an old barn into my own place. The cottage you’re staying in belonged to my uncle and when he died, Margo inherited it.’

‘Quite the family dynasty you’ve got,’ she quipped.

He looked wounded. ‘Well it might not be your cup of tea but I like having all my family all around me.’

She immediately felt ashamed of herself. ‘I’m sorry, it’s lovely that you’re so close to your family.’

He silenced the engine and they made their way up to the farmhouse through the snow. The front door was painted glossy red and a wreath of fresh holly hung upon a brass knocker to welcome them. As she got closer, she saw icicles were hanging down from the eaves.

‘Gran’s ninety-two so she’s starting to get a little confused, but she misses nothing,’ he whispered as they went inside. The door wasn’t locked and Conor just walked straight in without even a knock.

‘What?’ Conor said noticing her surprise. ‘Nobody locks their doors around here.’

The entered into a chequered tiled hallway decorated with heavy antique furniture. A sheep dog rushed out to greet them wagging its tail excitedly. ‘Hey, there, Toby,’ Conor said making a fuss of the dog and scratching him behind the ears. ‘They’ll all be in here,’ he said pushing the door to the living room which was full with people. A large open fire smouldered in the grate and in the corner a gigantic fir tree brushed off the ceiling. The warmth of the room was heavenly after coming from her freezing cottage. A piano with framed photos standing on top sat against the back wall and two chesterfield sofas faced one another in front of the fire. Everyone turned to look at them as they entered.

‘A woman rushed forward and gripped her palms. ‘You like it then?’ she asked nodding towards the scarf that Faye had wound around her neck before leaving the cottage.

‘It’s beautiful. Thank you,’ Faye said.

‘The colour suits you,’ she said approvingly.

‘Faye, this is my mum, Úna and my dad, Paul,’ Conor gestured to a grey-haired man that had followed Úna over.

‘Pleased to meet you both,’ Faye said shaking their hands.

‘I’m so glad you came,’ Úna said, pulling her into a hug and Faye felt herself freeze. She didn’t know this woman and here she was acting like she was long lost family. ‘I couldn’t stand the thought of you being stuck in that cottage on your own for Christmas.’

‘It’s not right,’ Paul concurred.

‘Well I’m not really a fan of Christmas…’ Faye explained before remembering her manners. ‘But thank you for inviting me.’

‘Well maybe we can change your mind,’ Úna said with a wink.

‘This is my sister, Laura and her husband, Philip,’ Conor said continuing with the introductions. He leant in conspiratorially and pointed at a curly haired little girl wearing a sequinned dress. ‘That’s their daughter, Róisín. Watch out for her, she looks like butter wouldn’t melt but she’s lethal.’ Faye couldn’t help but laugh. She plastered a smile on her face as he introduced her to various members of the Flynn family. Her head was spinning as she tried to keep up with everyone’s name.

‘And over this side we have Auntie June and Uncle Harry. And this is my cousin, Orla,’ he said leading her over to the other sofa. ‘And this is the main lady herself; Faye I’d like you to meet my gran, Kitty.’ he finally finished.

A diminutive lady with wispy white hair came forward. She was glamorously dressed with a twinset skirt and cardigan that was held closed with a delicate brooch in the centre of her chest.