Page 8 of Christmas Magic at Inishbeg Cove

‘Hello, dear, you’re very welcome to Inishbeg Cove. Margo has told us all about you. How are you getting on in the village?’

‘I’m pleased to be here,’ she lied and she caught Conor snorting behind his grandmother’s back.

‘It’s so good to finally meet Conor’s sweetheart.’ She squeezed both of Faye’s hands inside her own. They were covered in age spots and lined but as soft as baby skin. She turned to Conor’s mother. ‘And there was me starting to wonder if he might be gay!’ She chuckled heartily.

‘She’s not my sweetheart, Gran,’ Conor said through gritted teeth. ‘And I’m definitely not gay.’ His whole face had turned puce.

‘Well whatever you young people call yourselves these days.’ His gran gave an impatient wave of her hand. ‘Girlfriend or partner…’

‘Kitty, Faye works with Margo, remember?’ She could hear Úna explain as Conor placed a hand on the small of Faye’s back and steered her away. ‘Don’t mind Gran, she’s a bit doddery today.’

‘No I’m not, Conor,’ his grandmother called after them wagging her finger at him and Faye couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Conor, pour the girl a sherry,’ Úna instructed as she linked Faye’s arm and led her over to another large group of people, who she introduced as various aunties and uncles. Conor did as he was told and returned after a few moments and handed her a glass.

Everyone was lovely and welcoming and by the time Conor had refilled her glass, Faye had begun to relax as they chatted. They teased one another good-naturedly but she knew they all had each other’s back. Just like a family should.

‘So my dear why are you spending Christmas with us, instead of with your own family,’ Kitty asked bluntly, linking Faye’s arm as she joined them once more.

‘Gran!’ Conor exclaimed.

‘What?’ she asked, unsure of what she had done wrong.

‘That’s a very personal question.’

‘Nonsense, Conor!’ Kitty waved her hand theatrically.

‘Well, um, I don’t have a family actually,’ Faye explained.

All the heads swivelled in her direction as silence descended on the room.

‘No family–’ Kitty gasped.

Suddenly Conor clapped his hands together. ‘Right then,’ he said. ‘Who wants more sherry?’ He lifted the bottle and began to refill the glasses.

‘The turkey will nearly be ready,’ Úna said looking at her watch. ‘Come on, you lot.’

They all put on their coats and wellington boots. Conor found an old pair by the door

for Faye. ‘We’ve to go across the field,’ he explained, as he handed them to her.

She grimaced at the cobwebs as she put her feet into them, trying not to think about

the spiders that were probably feasting on her toes right now.

They headed outside and she shoved her hands deep into her pockets. The snow dazzled her with its blinding whiteness as they walked the short distance across the field to Conor’s parents’ house.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Conor said falling into step beside her. Snow sat heavy on the boughs of the old oak trees and glistened where the sunlight hit it.

She shook her head. ‘You don’t have to apologise–’

‘You know what that generation are like; they think they can just say whatever they like.’ He waved his hand in the air.

‘Well maybe they’re right.’ She couldn’t help but think that maybe if she hadn’t been so polite, she would have told Margo that she didn’t want to spend Christmas stuck in her remote cottage in the middle of nowhere.

After a few minutes they reached Conor’s parents’ house, which she noticed was a smaller version of his grandmother’s house. They all went around to the back door and filed into the kitchen. Conor’s father popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and handed a glass to everyone. While Úna and Paul served the dinner, everyone helped them to carry the dishes into the dining room. Conor picked up a bowl of crispy roast potatoes and he handed Faye a dish full of caramelised sprouts. Her mouth watered as she brought it into the dining room and placed it alongside the other dishes on the table. Paul brought up the rear and placed the bronzed bird, down as the centrepiece.

Everyone went to sit down and they realised they were short a place for Faye. ‘Oh I’m sorry, Faye, I must have done my sums wrong.’ Úna turned to Conor. ‘Conor, go set a place for Faye. Paul, you get her a chair from the kitchen.’