Page 1 of Family Secrets in Inishbeg Cove

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Madeleine Brennan slammed her palm against her car’s horn and blared it angrily at the tractor that was swaying from side to side across the road in front of her. The driver clearly didn’t hear her over the din of his engine, so she beeped again – just as a lump of mud flew off one of the tractor’s tyres and thwacked against her windscreen, infuriating her even more.

‘Damn stupid tractor!’ she cursed. Why was the farmer using the main road anyway? Didn’t he have a field to plough somewhere?

She had always hated this tedious journey from Dublin to Inishbeg Cove. It was interminably slow, traversing narrow boreens that were only wide enough for one car, and where sheep were liable to wander out into the middle of the road. When she had first come to the village almost forty years ago, it had felt like she was travelling to the other side of the earth. She couldn’t believe that such a remote village existed, and it had blown her mind that people had actually chosen to live there.

She banged on the horn again. This time the driver heard her, and he turned around. He wore a tweed flat cap and had a pipe wedged into the corner of his mouth. She was furious when he had the audacity to grin at her. Didn’t he know that she was in a rush? She checked the clock on the leather-trimmed dashboard of her Mercedes. It had been almost five hours since her daughters had called her. Probably six, if you counted all the missed calls she had ignored before she had finally answered. As her phone had vibrated in the boardroom earlier, she had turned it face down on the mahogany table without checking who it was to concentrate on the meeting. Her team were finalising the plans for Howard O’Brien’s book launch in three days’ time, and Madeleine’s company had been chosen to oversee the media and publicity for the event. Howard O’Brien was an Irish institution. The television presenter who presented his eponymous Saturday night chat show was a household name. He was famous for grilling his guests and not shying away from difficult questions. He was a roguish celebrity who had led a colourful life and had now written a tell-all book about it. It was one of the biggest print runs the publishers had ever done and was hotly tipped to be a bestseller. Her phone had buzzed on the table again, but she ignored it. She would call whoever it was back after the meeting had ended. It wasn’t until her assistant Linda had knocked on the door to interrupt the meeting – something Madeleine knew she would never dare to do unless it was urgent – that she realised something was wrong.

‘I have your daughter Lucy on the phone,’ Linda mouthed, entering the boardroom. Madeleine felt a flicker of irritation. Why on earth would Lucy call her on the office number?

Madeleine pursed her lips and smiled politely at the people around the table, before excusing herself to step outside to take the call.

‘Mum—’ Lucy said hurriedly as soon as she picked up the handset.

‘I’m in a meeting!’ Madeleine hissed, cutting her off. ‘Can’t it wait?’

‘No, Mum, it can’t.’ Lucy pressed on.

‘Well, what is it then?’ She raised a finger to her team, who were watching her through the glass wall of the boardroom, to signal that she would be back with them in one minute.

‘It’s Nanna…’ Lucy choked. ‘You need to come. She hasn’t got long left.’

‘Nanna? You mean Elizabeth?’ Elizabeth was her daughters’ paternal grandmother and they were extremely close to her. In fact, both of her daughters had chosen to move in with their grandmother to take care of her after her health had deteriorated in recent weeks.

‘Of course! Who else would I be talking about?’ Lucy snapped. ‘She’s taken a turn, and they’ve said she hasn’t got long left.’

‘A turn? What kind of turn?’

‘Her breathing isn’t good. The doctor has just been. It’s not looking good this time. I thought you’d want to know, but if you’re too busy…’ She left the words dangling in the air between them.

The truth was, she was too busy, but she also knew that her daughters would never forgive her if she didn’t travel down to Inishbeg Cove to be there for Elizabeth’s final moments.

‘Of course I’m not,’ she said, coming to, ‘but I have a big launch on Thursday for Howard O’Brien’s new autobiography. You’ve probably heard about it in the press… We’re expecting it go straight to number o⁠—’

‘Mum, Nanna hasn’t got long left.’ Lucy cut across her, not seeming to care an iota about Howard O’Brien and his book, or the fact that her mother was so highly thought of in the industry that she had been chosen to do the publicity.

Madeleine groaned inwardly and ran through her mental to-do list. ‘I suppose I could try to make it down on Friday evening…’ she offered. This week was going to be hectic; the last thing she needed was to tack on a trip to Inishbeg Cove.

‘I don’t think she has that long left, Mum.’ Lucy’s voice wavered on a knife edge of tears.

‘Really?’ Madeleine pressed her hand to her forehead. She could feel a migraine coming on. The timing couldn’t be worse.

‘You need to come now,’ Lucy urged.

‘Okay, okay.’ Madeleine sighed. ‘I’ll do my best to get there.’

After she hung up, Madeleine took a second to compose herself. What was she supposed to do? She knew her daughter was upset, that was obvious, but her girls could be dramatic. She also knew from experience that when people neared the end of their lives, they could hang on for days, sometimes even weeks. She had to finish this meeting, and then she had the final details of the book launch to think about. But she knew her daughters needed her. Their relationship was already strained. Although she had been trying to repair the fractures, they would never forgive her if she didn’t travel down to the west of Ireland to say goodbye to their grandmother.

In the end she decided to head down to Inishbeg Cove to visit for a few hours. She planned to return to Dublin first thing in the morning. It was an inconvenience, but she could direct her team over the phone while she was travelling. She was hoping the girls were exaggerating about their grandmother’s condition. Hopefully Elizabeth would hang around until after the book launch, she thought grimly.

Now, as the tractor ambled along in front of her, she could feel her blood pressure rise. This delay was costing her precious time. The road was too narrow for her to overtake, so she had no choice but to crawl along.

Just then her phone rang once more. She pressed the answer button on her steering wheel and this time she heard her youngest daughter Faith’s voice over the speaker. ‘Mum, it’s me. Are you nearly here? I don’t think she has long left.’

‘Well, I’m just after passing Limerick. The traffic was horrendous leaving Dublin and it wasn’t much better in Limerick. I think there’s something on in Thomond Park.’

‘But that means you’re still at least two hours away?’ Faith cried, full of emotion. Her youngest daughter had always been melodramatic.