Page 43 of Family Secrets in Inishbeg Cove

‘Is everything okay? I hope Lucy is alright after her trip to the hospital? I’m sure you all got a fright.’

‘She’s okay. They checked her out in the hospital last night so she’s back home.’ Out of loyalty to her sister, she didn’t want to tell him about Lucy’s pregnancy. It wasn’t her news to share, and she knew Lucy needed to get her head around it first.

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ He cocked his head to one side and she caught a glimpse of the boyish teenager she’d once known so well. ‘So, what’s wrong?’ he probed. ‘What brought you up here?’

Suddenly she couldn’t keep her feelings inside any more. The argument with her mother and the secret about her father came rushing back to her. ‘Everything,’ she said. A sob caught in her throat.

‘Hey,’ he said, placing his arm around her shoulder, ‘let’s get down from here; it’s miserable. Let’s go somewhere warmer to talk – only if you want to, of course,’ he added.

She nodded mutely, too tired to speak.

They walked down the headland towards the village. Setanta ran ahead of them, bounding through the heather and gorse, chasing rabbits. When they’d outrun him, he’d return to Jack, panting, until he spotted another and off he’d dart again.

Eventually they came to the gravel path that led to the village. In the distance puffs of smoke rose from chimneys and clouded in the misty air.

Jack jerked his thumb towards The Anchor. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot whiskey to warm up.’ He rubbed his hands together.

‘That sounds good,’ she agreed, suddenly realising that she had left the house without a coat and was shivering.

Inside the pub, a few locals sat on stools at the bar while Jim the owner polished glasses. A turf fire crackled in the grate, radiating warmth throughout the room. Setanta roamed over to greet Patch, who was asleep in front of the hearth. The two dogs sniffed one another for a moment before Setanta grew bored and returned to his owner.

‘You go find us a seat and I’ll get the drinks,’ Jack said to her.

Faith did as he instructed, too worn out to protest. After a few minutes, Jack came down to the snug she was sitting in with two steaming glasses of amber whiskey with a slice of lemon in each. He sat beside her while Setanta, finally worn out from all his running, lay down at Jack’s feet.

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ Jack began.

She sighed as he took a sip of her hot whiskey. It burned its way down her throat, but the warmth was exactly what she needed. ‘Where do I start?’

‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’

‘Well, I’ve just discovered that my mother has lied to me for my whole life. Everything I thought I knew about my childhood isn’t true.’

His brow furrowed. ‘What happened?’

She exhaled heavily. ‘Well, Mum and Lucy were arguing and it ended up escalating, as it always does with my mum and sister. They just seem to rub each other up the wrong way. They’ve been doing it my whole life,’ she sighed. ‘Anyway, Lucy said some horrible things to Mum about Elizabeth being more of a mother to us than she ever was, and Mum got angry and said some awful things about Nanna. She said she wasn’t the woman we thought she was, and she had a dark side—’ She broke off, reliving the shocking words once more.

‘Go on,’ Jack pushed.

‘Well, naturally Lucy and I got upset hearing her talk about Nanna like that … and then Mum decided to drop the bombshell that my dad didn’t actually die of cancer, like she’d told us all these years.’

Jack looked at her, wide-eyed. ‘How did he die then?’

‘Mum said he took his own life. Up there on the headland.’

‘I’m so sorry, Faith.’ He ran his hand through his wild auburn hair and the familiarity of the gesture transported her back to all those carefree summers they’d spent together in the village. How simple life had been back then, and she hadn’t appreciated it. If only she could be young and carefree again…

‘Thanks.’ Her voice quivered as his sympathy brought all the pain to the surface once more. ‘Mum said she wanted to protect us from it, so she lied. Nanna did too – that’s the most hurtful bit. Mum said Nanna was horrible to her after Dad died, that she tried to blame Mum for putting him under pressure. Mum reckons Nanna only stepped in to look after us out of a sense of guilt about what had happened, not because she was the amazing grandmother we always believed she was. It was horrible hearing her say all those things, not just about Dad but about Nanna too. I don’t know who to believe. I feel like I’m looking back over everything, all my childhood memories, and examining them under a new light. Everything I thought I knew about some of the people I loved most isn’t real, and the worst part is that Nanna isn’t even here to defend herself or give her side of the story. I can’t imagine her being so cruel to Mum, but I also don’t think Mum would make something like that up out of spite. Who knows? Maybe she’s telling the truth. Perhaps Nanna did lash out. Grief can do funny things to people. Or maybe the truth lies somewhere in between.’

Jack exhaled heavily. ‘That’s a lot to get your head around,’ he agreed. ‘No wonder you’re so upset.’

Tears began to fall down her face. She couldn’t stop them. ‘I’m sorry…’ she said quickly, trying to wipe them away, but it was futile as they were just replaced by fresh ones.

‘Hey, it’s all going to be okay.’ He reached out and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He tilted her chin towards him so their faces were just inches apart. The gesture was intimate. Too intimate. Coming to her senses, she pulled back quickly. What if someone saw them? She felt self-conscious in front of the other villagers here in The Anchor. What would people think? Even though it was entirely innocent on her part, what if someone thought there was more going on? What would his wife think if she knew? Faith would hate to cause any trouble in his marriage. God knew she had been on the receiving end of men playing offside often enough.

She stood up abruptly and wiped away her tears. ‘I’d better go,’ she said quickly.

‘Wait—’ he began. ‘What’s the matter? I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?’