A Distant Dream (22 page)

“And considering how old these buildings must be, someone has kept them in good repair” said Mel, thinking that the cute little cottages must be older than some of the settlements of Australia.

“That's down to me” said the voice of a man, who had been quietly listening to the newcomers, as he had been standing just inside the farmyard gate. “Me dada decided to turn them into weekend lets a couple of years ago, said it wasn't right to let good property like this go to rack and ruin. Don't usually get people up ‘ere in the winter though, if yer were wantin' to rent one of ‘em.”

Patrick turned. He knew that voice, it had been part of his childhood from when his parents had helped out on the farm.

“Danny Douglas. It's me, Patrick Mayo. You know me. I used to live across the grass in the old Dockerty place?” He smiled with delight, as the man, in his late fifties, grabbed him roughly in a bear hug and let out a cry of anguish as he did.

“Patrick! Jesus, Mary and Joseph, is it yerself that's come back here agin? Where've yer bin? Where's Jack and Aileen? Jack said yer'd stay away a couple of years until the dust ‘ad settled with that tub thumper, Cronin. ‘E said ‘e'd write, get in touch and tell us what was to ‘appen to ‘is land and property. We never ‘eard, so me dada decided to do up the cottages, keep ‘em nice, do the gardens and keep the rent from the lets for yer daddy in the bank.” He stepped away, then pushed his cap back above his forehead, letting out a sigh, as he realised what must have happened with only Patrick returning after all those years. “E's dead. Jack and Aileen are dead aren't they? God Bless ‘em. I said as much to Dada when Jack didn't come back to face up to old Cronin. I told ‘im it was a dangerous world out there before ‘e went, but would ‘e listen.”

Danny wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shook his head mournfully.

“So all this land and property belongs to you then, Patrick. Passed down through the generations from Maggie and her brother Bernie Mayo, or so the story goes.”

He brightened when he looked at Mel, who'd been listening quietly at Patrick's side, whilst she gazed around at the beautiful scenery. “So this'll be yer wife then, Patrick. Well, come on in Alanna and I'll brew yer a pot of tea. Yer can meet me dada. He'll be very glad ter meet yer, so he will.”