Breakfast at Darcy's (18 page)

Eamon smiles. ‘Well, young Roxi, as it happens I do know a few tales. Celtic myths and legends are one of my hobbies.’

‘Let’s be hearing you then, good sir. Hey, everyone,’ Roxi says, holding up her hand. ‘My buddy Eamon here is going to tell
us a story!’

Eamon makes himself comfortable on the bench before beginning, while we all sit like schoolchildren waiting patiently
for our story. ‘This tale features a legend that some of you will know, but it’s a story that relates to Tara. Have any of
you ever heard of a character called Fionn mac Cumhaill?’

Niall and Conor nod, while the rest of us look blank. But it’s Paddy, quite surprisingly, who puts down his knife and fork
for a moment. ‘Do you mean Finn McCool?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ Eamon says, turning to him, ‘that would be the anglicised version of his name – the modern version many would know
him by today. What do you know of him, young fellow?’

‘Isn’t he some Irish warrior guy that built the Giants Causeway?’ Paddy says, lifting his fork and continuing with his meal.

‘Legend has it – yes, and the Isle of Man, too.’

‘He was some sort of prehistoric builder?’ Dermot asks, suddenly pricking up his ears.

‘Finn was a bit more than just a builder,’ Niall joins in now. ‘He’s one of
the
great heroes of Irish mythology, isn’t that right, Eamon?’

Eamon nods proudly. ‘There are many legends surrounding the great Fionn mac Cumhaill, and storytellers throughout history
have spent many an evening just like this one, seated around campfires all over our great land recounting tales of his heroic
exploits.’

‘But what has Finn to do with Tara?’ I ask.

‘Ah, young Darcy, I see patience was obviously not a virtue bestowed upon you,’ Eamon nods knowingly. ‘And neither did I expect
it would be.’

‘Why, how would you know that about me?’

‘Your aunt described you to me on many an occasion.’

‘Oh. Oh right, I see.’ Yet again I’m left feeling ashamed that
Molly has obviously spent so much time thinking and talking about me in the last few years, and I so little about her.

‘The story about Finn and Tara goes that Finn once fled to the island when he was being pursued by an enemy and was wounded
in battle. The locals hid him here on the island until he was nursed back to full health again and fit enough to leave. Finn
was so grateful to them for their loyalty and kind hospitality that he left in their safe keeping a precious treasure, and
his word that if ever Tara was in trouble he would return to help them and collect his treasure.’

‘And did he?’ Niall asks, agog.

Eamon shakes his head. ‘No, he never came back.’

‘What happened to the treasure, Eamon?’ Conor asks with interest, leaning forward.

‘No one knows; Finn hid it somewhere on Tara.’

‘But he must have left a clue?’ Niall demands. ‘Some way of tracing it?’

I smile at Niall’s eagerness. I bet he loves a good puzzle. I can just imagine him doing Sudoku and crosswords in his spare
time.

‘All I know is that the legend says Finn left his heart as well as his treasure on Tara when he finally departed. He’d been
forced into fleeing here, but when the time came for him to go he didn’t want to leave.’

‘Why?’ I ask now. ‘What happened here that was so special?’

‘He fell in love, Darcy,’ Eamon says, his blue eyes softening as he fondly describes this part of the tale. ‘Some say he fell
in love with the island, but others believe he met his one true love here on Tara.’

‘Ah, that’s so cute,’ Roxi says, clasping her hands together,
‘I’m a sucker for a soppy love story. Maybe one of us will find true love while we’re here on Tara too.’

‘I highly doubt that,’ Dermot says, looking sceptically around the assembled group. ‘You’ve about as much chance of falling
in love with someone while you’re here as finding Finn McCool’s treasure.’

‘I don’t know,’ Conor says, looking over in my direction. ‘I’ve always enjoyed a good treasure hunt.’

The day our new islanders arrive dawns surprisingly bright and sunny again. But of the two types of delivery we have today,
the first goes a lot more smoothly than the second.

The furniture and soft furnishings from the hotel come over in three boatloads, and are quickly offloaded and ferried into
every one’s various cottages, directed by me, before anyone has a chance to notice there’s anything slightly untoward about
them.

As it turns out there
is
no time for questions or queries about the new interiors, for we’ve barely had time to unload the final set of packing cases
when we notice the boat loading up again, but this time it’s with human cargo.

‘The new ’uns are loading up over there,’ Paddy calls, looking through a large set of binoculars over to the mainland.

‘What, already?’ I cry, looking at my watch. ‘But we’re not expecting them yet.’

‘Maybe the forecast is bad for later, and Liam has decided to bring them earlier.’ Conor peers up at the sky.

‘I’m going to nip inside and freshen up. I can’t greet people looking like this, can I?’ I look with horror at my scruffy
jeans and sweatshirt.

Dermot tuts as he carries a final box across to his cottage. ‘They’re not expecting you to be in full ceremonial dress to
welcome them onto the island, Darcy. You look just fine as you are.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that, Dermot,’ I call, already hurrying over to my own cottage. ‘Back in a few minutes.’

‘I’m with you, Darce,’ I hear Roxi call, following in my footsteps. ‘There might be some talent heading over on that boat.
I can’t greet them when I’m not looking my hottest, now can I?’

When I get inside my cottage I wash my hands and face, brush my hair and quickly apply a bit of make-up. Then I change my
clothes into the outfit I’ve decided to wear to greet everyone for the first time. It has been a difficult decision; after
all, I don’t want to go too over the top, after the nautical theme of a couple of days ago. So this time I’ve opted for a
long black skirt with a plaited tan leather belt, long suede boots, a sheer white embroidered blouse and a long black fake-fur
waistcoat. Monsoon has assured me that their Ethnic City collection will add ‘a touch of sophistication with a tribal twist
to any event this season’, so I’m hoping it will add one to mine. It might be a bit adventurous for Tara, where it’s a fashion
event if someone appears in a curiously coloured raincoat, but first impressions count and I need to feel as confident as
I can this afternoon.

Roxi hasn’t even tried to go understated. She’s wearing a brown leopard-print top, black skinny jeans and coordinating
leopard-print shoes with a platform heel so high she can barely balance on them as she comes trotting down to the harbour
to wait for the boat to arrive.

Suddenly we’re all very quiet. We may only have been here for a few days together, but it feels odd to be welcoming strangers
among us now.

As they get closer, I recognise people from their interviews and suddenly I begin to panic. These people have given up their
lives to come and live here on this island with me, and now I’m just supposed to turn around and say to them, ‘Thing is, hope
you don’t mind but the plans have changed a bit … ’

‘Are you OK, Darcy?’ Niall asks with concern. ‘You look a little pale.’

‘What … Oh yes, yes, I’m fine. Just a bit nervous, that’s all.’

I wish now I’d tried a bit harder to voice my idea to the others. I was going to do it at the barbecue last night, but then
Eamon had started with his stories, and every time I’ve tried today I’ve been hampered by some situation that’s needed attending
to urgently, like last-minute adjustments to who was going to be sleeping where, or how we were going to cater for everyone
tonight when we’d only been used to cooking for us. Whatever problem has arisen, it has always seemed to be up to me to find
a solution. I’d thought once the boatloads of furniture arrived we might finally have a chance to have a little chat before
the others came, but now they are already on their way, there’s no chance.

So now I’ve got no choice but to wing it this afternoon, when I make my big announcement to everyone. I just have to hope
the others back me up … *

*

The boat finally arrives, this time containing a somewhat live-lier cargo, and we help everyone off with their belongings.

‘Can I just have everyone’s attention for a moment,’ I call above the noise of excited, chattering voices, as everyone begins
the process of getting to know everyone else.

‘Quiet!’ Dermot booms.

Everyone hushes. ‘Thank you, Dermot,’ I nod at him, before I launch into my carefully prepared speech that I’ve been practising
secretly in my cottage. ‘First of all, welcome to Tara, everyone. I’m Darcy, as most of you already know, and in a moment
if you could all proceed in an orderly fashion to see Niall over there with the clipboard, he will tell you which cottage
you have been allocated.’ Niall waves. ‘Then when you’ve got settled in, I wonder if we might meet out here again – weather
permitting,’ I glance up at the darkening skies, ‘for our first proper island meeting. In fact, looking at those skies, how
long would you say before the rain comes, Conor?’

‘Ten, fifteen minutes max,’ Conor says, looking upwards. ‘It’ll pass, though.’

‘How can you tell?’ asks Aiden, a baker from Dublin.

‘You soon get used to the changing weather on this island,’ I say, sounding as if I’ve been here years instead of days. ‘Perhaps
we should meet out here again when the rain has passed, then. We have a welcome barbecue planned tonight for you all. So let’s
hope Conor is right. See you all later!’

The crowd swarms on Niall while I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

‘Not accustomed to public speaking?’ Dermot asks, wandering over towards me, an amused look on his face. ‘My God,
you’re even shivering, too. But I’m not surprised, given what you’re wearing right now. It’s a lot colder than it was yesterday,
even in the sun. Where’s your coat?’

‘It didn’t go with my outfit.’ I collapse down on a long flat rock while the others begin escorting people to their cottages.

Dermot tuts and shakes his head. ‘I should have known. You’d best be getting one on soon before it rains though, otherwise,’
he turns his head to one side and regards my waistcoat suspiciously, ‘that fur thing will be looking something akin to a large
drowned rat in the next few minutes.’

‘Yeah, in a bit.’ I just don’t have the energy to respond to his taunts right now.

Dermot sits down next to me. ‘OK, what’s up? If I can’t wind you up, Darcy, I know something must be wrong. It can’t just
be making that speech.’

‘No, it’s not that.’ I look up at Dermot. ‘I’m more nervous about
what
I’m going to tell them later at the barbecue, than about actually standing up and speaking in front of them again.’

‘Why?’ Dermot asks curiously. ‘What are you going to say? You haven’t told any of us yet.’

‘I have tried to. But then you’ll probably only think it’s a bad idea anyway. You always do.’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Why don’t you try me?’

‘Excuse me, you don’t happen to know which cottage is going to be attached to the shop, do you?’ a young woman dragging a
heavy case behind her asks. ‘So sorry for interrupting you both.’

I look up and see a pretty face with blonde hair tied loosely in a plait at the side of her head. She smiles down at us. ‘I’m
Caitlin, by the way,’ she adds.

‘Yes, I remember you from the interviews,’ I return her smile. ‘Hi again, Caitlin. It’s that one over there,’ I point to the
cottage at the end of the row.

‘How about we do better than that, and I carry your case over there for you?’ Dermot says, jumping up. ‘You can’t be dragging
it across this rough ground. You’ll have the wheels off it in no time.’

‘That’s very kind of you … Dermot, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Dermot lifts up Caitlin’s huge case as though it were a Tesco carrier bag. ‘I built these cottages, you
know.’

‘Really,’ I hear Caitlin say as they depart together over the grass. ‘How very clever of you, Dermot.’

I sigh as I watch them depart.
Looks like operation Bucket and Spade goes ahead after all then
, I think, watching him open the door of the cottage for Caitlin.
With or without your approval, Dermot
.

‘I see someone’s already staking a claim on our Mr Cowell,’ Roxi says, perching next to me on the rock and easing her shoes
off. ‘Ooh, when they say killer heels, they really mean it.’

‘Then why are you wearing them?’ I ask. ‘Tara is hardly high-heel terrain. And Dermot’s just helping Caitlin with her suitcase,
that’s all.’

Roxi’s eyes snap open as wide as saucers. Then she shakes her head. ‘Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,’ she says, ‘have I taught you nothing?
You need to make a move as soon as you can when you have your eye on someone. And she definitely had her eye on him.’ She
holds up her shoes. ‘And isn’t it obvious why I’m wearing these little babies? Because they look fabulous!’

I glance back to the cottages. ‘You really think Caitlin’s interested in
Dermot
?’

‘You bet your life she is. In fact, how about we have a little wager on it?’ Roxi’s eyes sparkle with interest, and she rubs
the palms of her hands together.

‘Oh, no,’ I say, vehemently shaking my head, ‘not one of your little bets again. The last time I agreed to one of those I
spent the night in the local police station. How on earth you persuaded me to attach a life-size blow-up doll to the Eros
statue in Piccadilly Circus I still don’t know.’

Roxi laughs. ‘Ah, that was a class night. The poor guy looked lonely, balancing up there all alone on St Valentine’s Day,
and him a god of love, too.’

‘Hmm, it may have been a fun night for you, but it certainly wasn’t for me. No, Roxi, no bets on Tara.’

‘What about something more simple then?’ Roxi says, ignoring me as usual. ‘How about if you’re proved right and Caitlin hasn’t
got the hots for Mr Cowell, I have to … ’ she grins, ‘ … kiss Mr Solicitor over there.’