Breakfast at Darcy's (20 page)

There – I’ve said it.

As I look out into the crowd, waiting for some sort of reaction, there’s silence before me as the enormity of what I’ve just
said slowly sinks into everyone’s head.

‘Away with you!’ Unsurprisingly, Angry Seamus is the first to recover his voice. ‘This one doesn’t know what she’s rabbiting
on about, so she doesn’t. Who’s really in charge here?’

‘I can assure you, I am.’ I’m beginning to take an extreme dislike to Angry Seamus now. ‘But no one is
in charge
, as you put it. We all run this island equally together.’

‘Who is
we
?’ Seamus demands.

‘Me,’ Niall says, stepping forward. ‘I’m with Darcy.’

‘I should have known you’d be involved,’ Seamus says, rolling his eyes. ‘And what do you think about this
holiday
island?’

Niall stares hard at me.

I know exactly what he’s thinking;
Why didn’t I run this past him first?

‘In principle, I think the idea could work,’ Niall says to my relief. ‘But of course there would need to be a lot of discussion
as to how we could proceed with the plans, so that everyone is happy with the idea and their part in it.’

Good answer.

Angry Seamus glares at Niall, while Roxi saunters forward in her latest pair of heels – purple wedges this time.

‘You know I’m with you, honey,’ she says, linking arms with me.

‘Is that it, then?’ he asks. ‘You, Harry Potter and Beyoncé are all we’ve got to rely on to keep us safe and secure while
we live here?’

‘No, you’ve got me,’ Dermot says, stepping forward and standing beside us, folding his arms. ‘You got a problem with that,
Rusty?’

I hear Paddy give a snort of laughter behind me as he now steps forward too. ‘And me,’ he says, planting his Doc Marten boots
firmly down on the ground just like Dermot has done. ‘Your head’s up your arse if ya think people wouldn’t wanna come here
for their holidays,’ he announces to the rest of the crowd. ‘I’ve worked in the tourist industry all me life, and Darcy’s
right, they’d love it here.’

While the rest of the crowd breaks out into a heated discussion, I turn towards where Conor has been sitting a few moments
ago on one of the benches. He’s still there, looking completely calm and relaxed amid all the madness. He simply looks up
at me and winks.

‘Look, everyone,’ I say, trying to calm them all down again. ‘Obviously this is not how any of us quite thought it was going
to be when we imagined coming to live here. I certainly didn’t, I can assure you. As I said before, there’s a lot we need
to discuss yet, and I would very much like you all to be involved in making those decisions with us. But if you really don’t
want to be, then come and see me in the morning and Niall and I will arrange for transport back to the mainland again for
you as soon as possible, and we will of course pay for any expenses. But for now, thank you for listening, everyone.’

I take another deep breath and jump down from the bench where I’ve been standing for the past few minutes, my legs almost
buckling underneath me.

‘Why didn’t you run this past me before?’ Niall hisses in my ear as a barrage of people swarm in our direction.

‘Tried. Didn’t have time,’ I whisper back, ‘Sorry, Niall, is it a rubbish idea?’

‘No,’ Niall grins. ‘Actually it could be a very profitable one. I just wish you’d given me some notice, that’s all!’

‘She could have given us a bit more warning,’ I hear Dermot grumble as he tries to avoid the sea of people washing towards
him.

‘Just keeping you on your toes, Dermot,’ I call. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think I was conforming to type, now would I?’

‘How much further?’ Roxi pants as she trails behind Woody and Louis and me as we head off into unknown territory this morning,
towards Eamon’s cottage on the other side of the island.

Eamon is the only person who doesn’t know about my plans as yet, and I feel it isn’t fair to keep him in the dark about them
too long. It isn’t a conversation I’m looking forward to having; I’m never quite sure how Eamon will react to anything, let
alone a big change to the island such as this is going to be. So when Roxi offered to come with us, I’d welcomed the company,
even if it did mean I’d had to haul her out of bed so that we’d be guaranteed of catching Eamon when he was in a good mood.
Eamon was definitely an early bird, so we were setting off on this jaunt to his cottage at a time when Roxi was usually dead
to the world.

The dogs and I pause for a moment so she can catch up with us. She comes lumbering up the long, winding path that
leads all the way from the other side of the island, looking most un-Roxi-like in a red polo neck sweater, white jeans and
silver wellington boots with red and pink hearts scattered over them.

‘Come on,’ I call back down the path, ‘it can’t be much further, and we haven’t been going
that
long.’

‘I knew I shouldn’t have worn these stupid things,’ Roxi says as she catches up with us. ‘My feet are killing me. Give me
a four-inch heel any day. Who ever invented wellies wants shooting.’

‘The Duke of Wellington did, actually. Although,’ I shield my eyes from her boots, pretending that they’re dazzling me in
the early-morning sun, ‘I doubt he ever imagined they’d look like the ones on your feet right now!’

‘Who invented the loafer, then?’ Roxi counters, shuffling her feet around uncomfortably. ‘The Earl of Sandwich?’

‘Ooh, nice one, Rox, I’m impressed. So why
are
you wearing the wellies then? Couldn’t you have worn trainers, or something a bit less bulky to walk up to Eamon’s?’

‘When have you
ever
seen me in trainers, Darce?’

I think for a moment. ‘What about that time you took up Boxercise for a while? You must have had trainers for that.’

‘I only took that class because the instructor was fit; I sold the trainers on eBay when he left three classes into the course.
Darcy, my feet just ain’t happy in flat shoes! They pine for a heel when they’re this close to the ground.’

‘OK, OK,’ I hold my hands up in submission. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to put up with them now we’re halfway up this
hill. Come on – we need to get moving again.’

Roxi yawns as we begin walking at a slower pace this time.
‘You know, I don’t think much to the talent you’ve assembled on this island, babe.’

I turn and look at her in astonishment. ‘As much as I would have liked to set this island up solely for you to find Mr Right,
we didn’t have an awful lot of options to choose from.And now quite a few have gone home this morning, in case you hadn’t
noticed.’

‘How many went in the end?’

‘Twelve in total, which isn’t too bad considering so many of them thought it was a TV show.’

‘I don’t know! People these days, anything for five minutes of fame.’ Roxi tosses her raven hair back over her shoulder.

‘And remind me again just
how
long did we queue last year for the
X-Factor
auditions?’

‘That was different!’ Roxi dramatically clasps her hand to her chest. ‘I have
genuine
undiscovered singing talent.’

‘Yes,
you
might do, but I haven’t, and I still had to queue there with you all day.’

‘But we saw little Dermot O’Leary, so that made it all worth it.’

‘Correction, Roxi: we saw the back of Dermot O’Leary’s head. It did not.’

Roxi shakes her head. ‘You’re always so negative, Darcy. Now, about these people we’ve got to live with, why are they nearly
all coupled up? What good is that to me?’

‘They’re not all coupled up – are they?’

Roxi stops walking and holds her hand up in front of her to demonstrate her point as she counts on each fingernail – pillarbox
red with tiny silver stars today. ‘You’ve got the ones that run the baker’s in Dublin – Aiden and Kathleen. Then the doc and
the teacher, Daniel and Orla, they’re married. Then there’s that angry red-haired fellow … ’

‘Seamus.’

‘That’s the chap,’ Roxi grimaces and shakes her head. ‘And then of course we’ve got Miss Goody Two Shoes, Caitlin, and we’ve
already talked about where her romantic objectives lie.’ She gives me a meaningful look over the top of her fingers. ‘Then
there’s Ryan – he’s a bit of all right, as it goes,
if
he wasn’t already paired up with Siobhan.’

‘But those two aren’t together.’

‘They are now! They met at the interviews, apparently, and have been dating ever since. So when they both got picked to come
here, they were over the moon about it!’ Roxi puts her hands on her hips. ‘I tell you, Darce, this island is a like a magnet
for love. I felt it the moment I planted my pink suede heels on it – and they never lie in matters of the heart.’

I shake my head. ‘I’m sure it won’t have its effect on me. I’m off men, after the last few times – it only ends in heartbreak,
or it usually does for me.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I’ve got a feeling Tara moves in mysterious ways, just like myself.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Seen much of Mr Gorgeous since we got here?’ Roxi’s eyes widen as she flutters her false eyelashes.

‘You mean Conor?’

‘Aha!’ Roxi waggles her finger in my face. ‘I knew it. So you
do
fancy him!’

My face flushes the colour of Roxi’s top. ‘I might.’

‘So what have you done about it, then?’ she demands.

‘Not much.’

‘Why ever not? Oh, Darcy, will you never
learn
? Men need you to do all the running. They’re useless, left to their own devices.’

‘Maybe I don’t need to do any running,’ I answer. ‘Maybe Conor is doing all the legwork for me.’

‘Oh, he
is
, is he?’ Roxi says, folding her arms and regarding me approvingly. ‘Then I have been teaching you well.’

As finally we stumble upon Eamon’s cottage, we find it looks much the same as all the other dwellings on Tara. But as we get
closer, I realise that whereas mine and the other cottages on the island are newly whitewashed, Eamon’s has suffered the extremes
of Tara’s ever-changing weather. There are several large patches of paint peeling from the outside walls, and his front door
definitely hasn’t seen a lick of anything in years. But in spite of that, it still manages to retain a homely, welcoming feel
to it as we approach. In addition to the water butt that all the cottages on Tara have been provided with, Eamon also has
a washing line strung up outside his home, and a homemade bird table stands a little way from his front door with kitchen
scraps and a small water dish perched on top of it.

I take a deep breath as we approach the little wooden door, knocking firmly on it as soon as we get there in case my confidence
suddenly deserts me and I change my mind. Having Roxi with me is all well and good, but it’s me that’s going to have to explain
everything to Eamon.

Almost immediately we hear a shuffling behind the door as we wait for it to open, but oddly it doesn’t; instead, a window
to our left is suddenly thrust ajar and Eamon’s head appears through it.

‘What are you doing all the way over here?’ he asks, not looking too pleased to see us.

‘We just came over to talk to you about something,’ I take a step back from the door to try to see him a bit better.

‘What?’

‘It might be easier to explain if we come in,’ I ask, hoping he’ll move around to the front door. ‘It’s not really something
I can just tell you quickly.’

Eamon sighs. ‘I’ll come out,’ he says, pulling the window shut. He immediately pulls the curtains closed too.

I look at Roxi uneasily; she simply shrugs.

After a minute, the front door opens a fraction. It’s a gap just wide enough for Eamon to squeeze through. As I begin to wonder
just what he’s got hidden inside his cottage, he jerks the door closed behind him. ‘Now, just what is so important it’s brought
you all the way around to this side of the island this morning?’

I wasn’t expecting this kind of welcome – especially not since I’d brought Roxi with me. Eamon had been so friendly the other
night.

While Roxi rests her feet outside Eamon’s cottage, we walk along the cliff path together while I give him the speech I’ve
been rehearsing on and off all day, about how this will be great for Tara and how it won’t be like a tourist trap or anything
horrific like that. The further away from his cottage we seem to get the more Eamon relaxes.

‘So how many folks stayed on?’ Eamon asks when I’ve finished explaining what happened yesterday.

I quickly work this out in my head. ‘Eight, but including the rest of us that’s, erm, fourteen in total.’

‘Is fourteen enough folk to be here on Tara looking after all these holidaymakers you’ve got coming over to stay?’ Eamon enquiringly
raises a white eyebrow.

Wait a minute … fourteen! I need fifteen, don’t I?

‘Oh, there’s you, Eamon, too!’ I breathe I sigh of relief. ‘That makes it fifteen in total.’

‘What will you do with all these folk when they get here?’ he pauses to rest for a moment, and plants his stick in the ground.
‘Me, I can just get by appreciating all these grand views every day, but people want more these days.’

‘Conor has suggested we lay on fishing and hiking and boat trips around the island. I’m hoping to make it into an outdoor
activity kind of holiday destination. We’re going to be renovating some more of the cottages, too. Dermot’s already said he
can see to that, with some help.’

Eamon nods. ‘Ah, yes, he’s a hard worker, is Dermot. Stubborn mind, but there’s not much’ll stand in his way when he puts
his mind to it.’

‘Yes, you’re probably right there, Eamon.’

‘So what gave you the idea for this holiday island, then?’

I explain to Eamon what happened on the beach yesterday.

‘ … and then this bucket and spade was washed up at my feet. And I thought it might have been a sign, Eamon, like a clue to
prompt me to my idea for the island.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘Well unless
you
regularly go down to the beach to make sandcastles, I’m sure no one else has ever played with a bucket and spade on these
shores, have they?’