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Colin roared with laughter and Niall shot Róisín a rueful look. “You aren’t supposed to be telling her things like that.”

“I tell her what I please,” Róisín said, patting Cordelia’s knee. The cart rolled off down the road but Niall saw Cordelia turn back to look at him. He hoped he’d see her at the bar tonight. Maybe, amid all the music and good cheer, he could finally work up the courage to do something about these feelings buzzing inside him.

“Our sandcastles weren’t shite,” Colin said as Niall handed him another lantern.

“I hate to break it to you, mate,” Niall said. “But they were bloody awful.”

Cordelia crouched in the sand as two young boys carefully tipped a bucket packed to the brim on top of the low platform of sand they’d spent the past half hour perfecting. There were adults skilled in the art of sandcastle construction as well – one creation in the shape of a whale was particularly impressive – but these boys had so much giggly enthusiasm. Cordelia’s shutter click-click-clicked. She squinted down at the screen.

Perfect, she thought. Then she glanced back toward the town behind her, foolishly hoping Niall might be coming down to the beach. He’s working, she reminded herself. A couple of fishermen drinking bottles of beer were hanging around on the docks. Tourists crowded the Sweater Market and Róisín was gesturing wildly as she told the story of Finn McCool and the salmon of knowledge to a group of children.

Flags were strung up all along the harbour, and there was a platform where musicians were playing. Cordelia wandered over and took some shots of a woman and her son holding hands as they danced what looked like some sort of jig – she wasn’t all that familiar with Irish step dancing. The mother and son finished and people clapped, but the music kept going. A man in a suit got up and performed a series of kicks and turns. Cordelia cheered along with the crowd and the man finished and took a bow.

Róisín took her to a big field where there was a massive tug-of-war happening. After that she was whisked away to where some teenage girls were in a competition to be named the Queen of Pátrún, and then Cian wanted her to take photographs of him and some rowers from Galway. He dragged her all through Kilronan, and by the time she was released, the weather had changed and she was exhausted and cold and there was mud all over her jeans.

She walked by O’Connor’s on her way home, hoping she might be able to grab a moment with Niall. She was beginning to worry she’d imagined that moment between them. But the pub was filled to bursting, people spilling out onto the street, Colin’s music wafting into the cool night air. She tried to peek inside but it was too packed. All hope of seeing Niall died and she plodded back to the cottage, trying to ignore the sinking in her stomach.

The next day was grey and overcast.

The chill from the night had grown colder. Cordelia wore fleece-lined leggings, a green striped sweater beneath her raincoat, and an Aran wool scarf as she walked with Róisín down to the harbour. The streets were even fuller today.

“Everybody’s come to watch the currach races,” Róisín said. “The team from Inisheer is the one to beat. They’ve won the past three years running.”

“What about Niall’s team?”

“They’re fucked. Have you seen Colin Doyle’s spindly arms? I could use ’em for my needlework. It’s good of Niall to have asked Alison to row with them, though – she loves the water, that girl, just like her grandfather did. Some of these island boys, they don’t much like girls to be rowing with them.”

“Niall’s not like that,” Cordelia said.

Róisín patted her arm. “No,” she agreed. “He most certainly is not.”

The flags that lined the harbour were flapping about wildly in the wind when Róisín and Cordelia arrived at the docks.

“Look, they’re getting the currachs out now,” Róisín said. She marched up to the wall surrounding the harbour and shouted down to the beach. “Good luck, you bastards!”

There were many men and a handful of women carrying the long slender boats out to the water, each one with a number painted at its prow. But Cordelia only had eyes for Niall. He, Colin, and Alison were carrying a currach with the number 4 painted on it. Niall wore track pants and a maroon hoodie, his black hair tangled by the wind. Cordelia felt a tightening in her stomach.

“I’m going to go down there and get some better shots,” she said. She climbed down the steps to the beach, crouching to take a few pictures before heading over to Niall and the others.

“Hiya,” Niall said, smiling as she approached them.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. She turned to give Alison a hug. “Good luck, you guys.”

“We’re going to need it,” Colin said, coming over to them with three life jackets hanging from his arm. “Have you seen the boys from Inisheer? Christ, we’re fucked.”

“Just think about after, Colin,” Alison said, “when we can have a whiskey by the fire at O’Connor’s and say at least we tried.”

“I could do with a bit less cold and a bit less wind, but that’s Inishmore, isn’t it,” Colin said. “Right, let’s get the damned currach into the water and get this over with.”

Cordelia had to agree the weather wasn’t great for water-based activities. She looked up at Niall, who was putting on his life jacket. “Please don’t fall in. The ocean looks scary.”

“Don’t worry, see that tugboat out there?” He pointed to a small white boat floating out in the harbour. “That’ll be following us the whole time.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Niall’s eyes grew soft. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch her, and Cordelia wanted that too – she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and press his lips against her hair, and tell her everything would be okay. But then Colin called out for him, and Niall hurried to push the boat off. Cordelia stayed on the beach for a few minutes, walking up and down to get a variety of angles and compositions, but her lens always drifted to currach number 4. Then she went back up to watch the race with Róisín. Brogan, one of Róisín’s neighbours, stood at the end of the long pier with a rifle in one hand.

“What’s that for?” Cordelia asked.