Breakfast at Darcy's (32 page)

‘You can’t see it from here, it’s too far away at the moment. You’ll have to come out.’ Ryan runs back to the door. ‘It’s
a motorboat by all accounts, and a flashy one too, Paddy says.’

I take a quick glance at the sky before I leave the cottage, something I’ve become accustomed to doing now having been caught
out too many times without a raincoat. But the skies
above continue to look clear, so I take a chance and leave the house without one. As I hurry down the hill and towards the
harbour, there’s already quite a crowd gathering to welcome the oncoming boat.

‘Who is it?’ I ask Daniel and Orla as I arrive next to them. ‘Do we know?’

Daniel shakes his head. ‘No, apparently Paddy can’t see clearly enough yet.’

I push my way through the crowd towards Paddy, who’s standing on top of a used oil drum,peering though his binoculars.

‘Paddy, who’s on the boat?’ I ask, trying to see across the sea into the distance myself.

‘I’m not too sure at the moment,’ Paddy says, squinting into his binoculars. He tries adjusting the focus on them by twisting
the ends. ‘Think these things are bust; they don’t seem to be working properly.’

I sigh.

‘What’s going on?’ Conor asks, appearing next to me.

‘Apparently we’ve got some uninvited guests arriving.’ I point to the boat that’s getting ever closer to the island.

‘But
I
do all the trips back and forth to the island.’ Conor sounds affronted. ‘Who’s that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Paddy calls from up above. ‘But they’ve got a mighty fast boat on them, Conor. She’s fair whizzing across
the sea, so she is.’

We all stand and watch as the little motorboat approaches. Word has quickly spread across the island, and now everyone has
stopped whatever they’re doing and joined us to await the visitors.

All except Dermot.

‘Where’s Dermot?’ I ask, looking around me as the boat gets closer.

‘He told me he’d be over in a minute,’ Siobhan says. ‘He’s just finishing off fixing some taps in our kitchen. He didn’t want
to leave until the job was done.’

Typical Dermot – ever the perfectionist.

Paddy is still balanced precariously on the oil drum. ‘It looks to me like a man driving the boat with a woman passenger.
I think there might be a second passenger too, but it’s difficult to say yet.’

Who on earth is coming across to Tara? We aren’t due any new visitors today. It’s unheard of for someone to just rent a boat
like this and sail over unannounced.

As we all stand silently, watching the little white speedboat get closer, Paddy excitedly calls out, ‘There’s a chiseller
on the boat!’

‘A what, Paddy? What’s a chiseller?’ I ask, thinking Dermot might have ordered a new carpentry tool.

‘A kiddie – a child,’ Paddy explains.

‘Let me have those binoculars, Paddy!’ I try and grab them from his hand, and in my haste almost pull him off the oil drum
when I forget they’re still looped round his neck. ‘How can you see that?’ While Paddy untangles himself from the strap, I
try to focus the binoculars so that I can see the people on the motorboat. ‘These things are so out of focus I can barely
see the boat, let alone the people.’

‘Try these,’ I hear a calm voice call from a few metres away, as Dermot holds out another set of binoculars. ‘They’re more
powerful than Paddy’s. You can see exactly who’s on that boat with them.’

I hurry over to Dermot and take the binoculars from him, then I point them out to sea at the little white motorboat that is
jumping and bobbing over the waves.

‘But there’s no need,’ Dermot continues, as I finally get them to focus in on the three figures. ‘Because I know who two of
them are already.’

‘Who?’ I ask, as the binoculars pick out a woman and a young girl sitting in the back of the motorboat trying to shelter from
the sea wind.

‘It’s my ex-wife, Eileen and my daughter, Megan.’

I almost drop the binoculars in shock. ‘Your what?’ I ask, staring at Dermot, who is calmly looking out to sea at the oncoming
boat.

‘I said … ’ he begins again.

‘I know what you said, but why? How? I thought they were in America.’

‘They were. But Eileen has split up with her partner and has come back to live in Ireland again, Dublin to be precise.’

I still stare at Dermot. ‘But that doesn’t explain why they’re here now, coming over to the island.’

Dermot turns his head away from the boat to face me. ‘Eileen’s been sending me letters … ’

I open my eyes wide, suggesting perhaps
a tiny bit
more information than that would be good right now. And fast.

‘Letters asking if I’ll see Megan again.’

‘And this is a bad thing because …?’

It’s Dermot’s turn to stare blankly at me now.

‘Dermot, please, tell me what’s going on. They’ll be here on the island in a couple of minutes. I need to know, so I can help.’

Dermot sighs and stares at his boots. ‘The thing is, I haven’t
replied to all of the letters. Eileen knew where I was because I’ve always let her know my whereabouts – you know, just in
case.’ He looks up at me. ‘A bit like you, I don’t have many close relatives. I guess that’s something else we have in common.’

I nod at Dermot, but I’m too eager for him to continue to think any further about his odd comment.

‘But when Eileen’s letters started mentioning me looking after Megan, I couldn’t reply.’

‘Why?’

Dermot shrugs. He plunges his hands deep into his pockets and repeatedly kicks at a tuft of grass. ‘I don’t know. I’m not
sure I want to get involved in Megan’s life after all this time. I don’t know if I can let her back in just to have her taken
away from me again. It hurt too much the last time.’

As Dermot looks up at me from his turf inspection, I see something in his big brown eyes I’ve never seen before – fear. And
in the same way as I’d seen Niall’s strength and stature growing in front of me in my cottage that night, suddenly I see all
Dermot’s crumbling away.

I can hardly bear to tear my eyes away from him to look at the fast approaching boat again. It’s getting very close now.

I think quickly about the best way to handle this.

‘It doesn’t look like you’re going to have much choice,’ I say in a practical voice that belies how I’m really feeling inside.
I’m hoping Dermot will respond well to this type of ‘pull yourself together’ treatment, when actually all I want to do is
hold him close to me right now and give him all the reassurance he needs. But a public show of affection like this is probably
not the best of ideas, not when the entire population of Tara are
standing just a few metres away from us, and Dermot’s ex-wife and daughter are about to land on the island at any minute.
The ‘tough love’ approach is my only option. ‘So you had no idea they were coming over here today?’

Dermot stares back at me like a scolded puppy. After a few seconds he shakes himself and immediately regains some of his usual
bravado. ‘No, I damn well didn’t,’ he says, gazing out to sea. ‘This is typical of Eileen, though, just charging in with all
guns blazing when she doesn’t get what she wants. She’s obviously decided to bring Megan anyway, and to hell with the consequences.’

I’m suddenly aware that the assembled islanders are spending as much time looking in our direction as they are watching the
speedboat.

‘You’d better go and explain to the others what’s going on,’ I tell Dermot while I smile back at them. ‘They’re beginning
to wonder why we’re over here whispering to each other.’

‘Sure, I’ll do that,’ Dermot says, looking over towards the crowd. ‘Thanks, Darcy, for … well, you know. I needed that.’

I nod at Dermot.

‘You won’t say anything, will you?’ He looks at me now, his hand on my shoulder. ‘About what I just said.’

I shake my head. ‘Don’t worry about me.’ I look out again at the boat, which is nearly at the little jetty now. ‘You’ve got
much bigger problems to deal with, arriving down at that harbour right now.’

Dermot quickly explains to the others who it is on the boat, and that it’s a complete surprise that his daughter is coming
over to visit him.

Conor, Daniel, Dermot and I go down to the jetty to help moor the motorboat, while the rest of the islanders, including Roxi
and Caitlin, remain up on the hill, watching. When Dermot announces his news, I watch Caitlin carefully for her reaction.
But after initial shock flickers across her face, she appears to take the news calmly, which is her attitude to everything
in life. Roxi is keen to come with us down to the harbour to greet our new visitors. All right, she wants to have a good nose
at Dermot’s ex, I know that. But I ask her to stay and keep an eye on Caitlin; this can’t be easy for her.

Now the boat is safely moored up, I wait in anticipation to find out what our new visitors to Tara are going to be like, and
just what sort of woman Dermot would choose to marry. Or,
more accurately, what sort of a woman would choose to put up with him long enough to become his wife.

Alighting from the motorboat first is a man; he wears cream trousers, a navy blazer and a navy and white peaked captain’s
hat. A slim, elegant-looking blonde-haired woman wearing a crisp white linen trouser suit follows him; she wears red high-heeled
sandals on her beautifully pedicured feet, and carries a Chanel clutch bag which matches the pillarbox red of her immaculately
painted nails. A young, dark-haired girl wearing jeans, purple Converse trainers and a Kermit the frog sweatshirt printed
with the slogan
It’s not Easy being Green
hangs back behind them as they walk forward to greet us.

‘So this is where you’re living now, Dermot,’ the woman says, kissing Dermot on both cheeks as he moves forward to greet her.
‘It’s certainly …
rural
, isn’t it?’

‘Eileen,’ Dermot unceremoniously wipes away the red lipstick kisses still left on his cheeks. ‘This is an unexpected surprise.’

‘Well, when you stopped answering my letters I had to take matters into my own hands,’ Eileen says with a bright smile. ‘I
couldn’t have you missing out just because some of your mail might have gone astray, now could I?’ She looks with interest
at her welcoming committee. ‘Dermot never was all that good at social etiquette. Too many hours spent with Neanderthal building
types, I expect.’ She smiles at us. ‘Now, we haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Eileen Drury.’ She offers a perfectly manicured
hand to each of us in turn.

‘Darcy McCall,’ I say when it’s my turn, hurriedly thrusting my hand back in my pocket in an attempt to hide my own
inferior nails. I’ve long since given up trying to keep my nails long and manicured. It was becoming too time-consuming to
keep filing and repainting them when all they kept doing was breaking and chipping, and to be honest I haven’t missed it one
bit until a few moments ago when I’d seen Eileen’s fabulous talons glinting at me in the bright afternoon sun.

‘Darcy!’ she gushes, ‘Finally I get to meet the
owner
of this wonderful island. How fantastic for you to be in charge of all this. I do like to see a woman in charge of all the
men, don’t you?’

I smile politely at her.

‘Let me introduce you to my own little crew,’ she says, turning back to the man and the girl. ‘This is Geoffrey, my own ship’s
captain.’

‘Stop it, bunnykins,’ Geoffrey says. ‘You know I only put on the outfit as a joke. I don’t usually dress like this when I
take a boat out for a spin.’

Again, I smile politely, and I see Dermot raise an eyebrow.

‘And this,’ Eileen says, turning around to propel the young girl forward in front of her, ‘is, of course, Megan.’

Megan looks as embarrassed at being the centre of attention as Geoffrey should have been by his outfit. She looks down at
her Converses.

‘Megan, don’t look at your feet,’ Eileen snaps. ‘People want to see your face at least, when they’re introduced to you – especially
your father, who hasn’t seen you for years.’

Megan looks up sulkily at us. ‘So which one of you is he, then? It can’t be you,’ she says looking at Conor, ‘you’re much
too young and, besides, you’re too good-looking to fall for my mother.’

Conor grins while Eileen purses her lips.

‘Megan, you know perfectly well which one is your father. Dermot,’ Eileen grabs hold of Dermot and pulls him forward, ‘be
reunited with your daughter.’

Megan and Dermot stand eyeing each other warily for a few seconds in silence. Then Megan simply blows a large pink bubble
of gum out of her mouth, pops it and then begins chewing on it again.

‘So Dad,’ she says, looking up at him, ‘how’s it going?’

Dermot blinks slowly back at his daughter.

‘Megan,’ he says, screwing up his face in disdain, ‘please do not burst that vile stuff in my face again. If you must chew
on it, at least have the decency to keep it to yourself.’ Dermot’s face softens. ‘And it’s going very well just now, thank
you. How about you?’

Megan grins before removing the gum from her mouth and folding it up carefully in a wrapper from her pocket. ‘Deal,’ she says,
and she and Dermot shake on it. She takes a look around her. ‘Now I want to take a look around the island. Will you be my
tour guide?’

Our guests have been introduced to the islanders. Eileen’s introduction to Roxi produced looks so scathing from both of them
that they could have sliced through Tara’s rock face. Dermot spends the next hour or so showing them around. Megan and Geoffrey,
that is; Eileen decides that perhaps, in her current footwear, she’s better off staying on more stable ground, so I offer
to make her a cup of tea back at my cottage.

It takes longer than normal for Conor and me to walk to my
cottage, with Eileen tottering behind us across Tara’s undulating ground in her red heels, trying to smoke a cigarette as
she balances. But when we eventually get there she drops the cigarette butt on the ground outside my door and stubs it out
with the sole of her sandal.

‘Oh, how very quaint,’ she exclaims as we all go inside. ‘It’s like a little doll’s house in here.’