The Oyster Catcher (9 page)

Chapter Seventeen

‘Whooof, whooooof, whoooof, whooooof!’ Grace’s battle cry catapults me from my deep sleep. I try to move but a sharp pain shoots up through my neck, crippling me. I clutch my neck and lift my head stiffly from its resting place; a shoulder and a denim shirt that I don’t recognise.

‘Where the …?’ My mouth is dry, my head fuzzy. A blast of cold air freezes me as a door opens behind me. Grace jumps up throwing my legs into the air. I go to spin round and a sharp pain shoots up my neck. I am suddenly fully aware of whose shoulder I’ve been sleeping on. I force myself to sit bolt upright, despite it hurting. Beside me, he’s stretching out slowly and yawning loudly. I daren’t look round, I just couldn’t make eye contact. Falling asleep on your boss is about as embarrassing as it gets.

‘Well, well, well,’ the French and Irish voice says behind me. ‘What’s this?’

I’m half standing. The colour drains from my face. I don’t need to spin round to know that Nancy is standing in the doorway. I feel like I’ve been caught with my hands in the biscuit tin.

Sean’s up off the settee, swinging his legs over the arm.

‘Hey Nance.’ He’s over and beside her in a flash, picking up the empty whiskey glasses as he goes. I can’t tell if he’s as embarrassed as me or delighted to see her having had to spend an evening with me. Probably the latter. I hear him kiss her. I re-arrange the cushions on the sofa, hoping my blushes will subside. Although why I’m blushing I have no idea. I’ve nothing to hide. I’ve done nothing wrong; but can’t work out why it feels like I have.

‘Oyster pirates,’ Sean’s explaining, matter-of-factly. But why wouldn’t he be matter of fact? Nothing happened! It’s all in my head. It was the whiskey, the stars, the moonlight, letting down my guard a bit, knowing I’m leaving. Except that in the moonlight and with a couple of whiskeys inside me, either one of us could’ve leant in and taken a kiss if we thought the other one had wanted it too. Thank God he didn’t. I re-arrange the cushions all over again.

‘Tried to take our stock last night,’ he’s explaining from the bathroom. ‘We’ve been taking it in turns to stay on watch.’ And I can’t help but notice he’s told a little white lie. Why? A little jolt passes through me. He can’t be feeling the same as me. He’s probably just trying to save my embarrassment, which is really kind. My mind flits back to his warm breath on my face. Was it me? Or was it him? I can’t remember. I push it aside.

‘Who was it?’

‘Huh?’ I catch my breath and spin round to Nancy, cushion still in hand.

‘The pirates, who was it?’ She’s looking at me for a straightforward answer and I’m staring blankly back.

‘You were watching for oyster pirates. Then what happened?’ she prompts me again and then sighs and turns back to Sean in the bathroom. She must think I’m really stupid. It was what happened, but what also happened was that I began to understand why this place has cast its spell on Sean. How could I explain that the stars had put on some kind of private extravaganza for my benefit and how beautiful it had been? How could I explain that I listened and learnt about oysters and that I saw Sean in a whole new light? I think about his face, how it lit up, he came alive. So different from the grumpy farmer I first met. This is a man who cares, very, very much, and that can’t make him a bad person. In fact, I rather liked the Sean I got to know last night. I liked him a lot.

‘Sean, what happened?’ Nancy’s shouting through the bathroom door. But the sound of taps running drowns her out.

The oyster pirates hadn’t come back, at least I don’t think they did.

I go to the kitchen where the glasses from last night are and put them in the sink. Nancy is looking at them and then back at me. I’m feeling uncomfortable, but I don’t know why, because nothing happened, I repeat in my head. Maybe the problem is that I wish it had. The thought surprises me so much that a glass slips from my hand into the sink I’m filling with hot water and washing up liquid, splashing me with soapy suds.

I turn from the sink clutching my neck which is still locked into a slightly tilted position. ‘I’ll go and check outside.’ I want to get out of there. Nancy’s saying nothing, but I can feel her looking at me as I pass. Her arms are folded, her bright red painted fingernails, vibrant against the black of her smart fitted dress, are tapping.

Then Grace gives out another round of ‘whoooof, whoooooofs’. Sean sticks his head out of the bathroom door.

‘Who’s that?’ He cranes his neck to look down the lane.

‘Just thought I’d come by to wish you luck before the inspector got here. Looks like I’m too late,’ Nancy raises an eyebrow.

‘What?’ Sean and I say together.

‘Looks like the inspector,’ Nancy nods her head towards the drive.

‘It can’t be he’s not due until …’ Sean looks up at the clock above the stove.

‘Shit!’ we say together.

Sean’s pulling on his wellies and I grab my hat and waterproof coat.

‘Oh and by the way,’ Nancy adds. ‘I saw two donkeys making their way across the drive just as I was pulling in.’

‘You get the donkeys. I’ll see the inspector.’ Sean flings open the door just as a short fat man with a clip-board wearing an ill-fitting suit and wellies is getting out of his little white van. Grace is barking at him and he tries shooing her away with his clipboard, making her bark even more. Sean runs over to him and puts his hand on Grace’s head. The man holds his clipboard in front of him like a shield.

‘I’ll do the water’s edge, you do the lane,’ I tell Nancy as I go to run outside. But Nancy doesn’t move. I turn back.

‘Nancy?’

‘Uh?’ She looks as if I’ve asked her to fly to the moon.

‘The donkeys. We need to find them.’

‘Oh, I’m not really a donkey person.’ She waves her painted nails in my direction.

‘This is Sean’s inspection,’ I say slowly but with a growing disbelief. ‘We need to do this … now.’ I surprise myself. She stares as if she’s about to challenge me. I stare right back.

I feel fury surging up inside me.

‘Sean loves this place,’ I hiss.

‘And maybe you love Sean.’ Her eyes darken. She turns her mouth down at the corners in disgust. I’m so enraged I can’t speak. Instead I storm off, cheeks burning with indignation, in search of two runaway donkeys. I’m going to do whatever it takes for Sean to pass today.

The hens start up an almighty row, wanting to be let out of their run and fed. Sean is talking to the inspector pointing to the boundaries of the farm. He looks nervously over his shoulder at me. Sean says something to the inspector, politely excusing himself. Then he runs over to me.

He runs up and slings his arm around me pulling me close and talking quietly into my ear. My body is on high alert, buzzing at his closeness.

‘Any sign of them?’

I shake my head tightly.

‘If they go anywhere near the oysters it could cost us the licence.’ Sean is acting nonchalantly but his voice is full of panic.

‘I’ll find them,’ I say, smiling at the inspector, acting as if there was no problem at all. But we both know there is, a massive one. I can’t believe that this could fail him, after all the hard work we’ve put in.

Just then two donkeys’ heads appear from behind the shell pile, just by the inspector, heading for the water’s edge.

‘Get them away,’ Sean hisses and gives my shoulder a hard squeeze. I don’t need telling twice. All I have to do now is work out how to get two wayward donkeys back into their field without the usual game of grandmother’s footsteps and without the inspector noticing.

Like a Tom and Jerry cartoon I grab my bucket of pony nuts and creep round the back of the inspector who Sean is showing around. I shake the bucket. The inspector looks round briefly but quickly turns back to his clipboard. The donkeys stand staring at me. I don’t want to chase them, that’ll only make them run right into the path of the inspector. I shake the bucket again. Mercury takes one step forward. Freddie isn’t budging. I throw some nuts down in front of them but it just makes Mercury flinch, turn, and take two steps back. I look back at the cottage. Nancy is watching me with an amused look on her face. I put the bucket down low to try and show them what’s in it. Mercury looks interested. I can’t shake it again without attracting attention, so I lie on the floor and start to crawl towards them on the stony ground. Sean is directing the inspector towards the path around the bay. He looks back at me, his face turning to horror, probably imagining all his hopes and dreams disappearing at my ham-fisted attempt to round up two tame donkeys.

I begin to crawl and the donkeys look as if they’re about to take flight, spooked by the rustling of my coat. I slip out of it and then begin moving forward on my elbows. They settle again. When I left home on my wedding day a month ago, I could never have imagined I would end up lying on the ground clutching a bucket, underneath two donkeys.

Mercury looks at the bucket suspiciously. I give it a little rattle. He jumps but doesn’t run. Freddie is determined to ignore me. Mercury sniffs at the bucket. I push it further towards him, pulling on my stomach muscles. I can hear Freddie’s hooves. He’s starting to move backwards. If they make a run for it now there’s no way I’m going to be able to stop them. They’ll charge right across in front of the inspector. And I’m not going to let that happen. I push the bucket towards Mercury who finally sticks his head in and starts to eat. In one swift movement I stand up and sling the lead rope round his neck. Now all I have to do is hope Freddie will follow. I begin to walk towards the field, as if I’ve been out for a morning stroll with my pet donkey. I can’t turn back and look in case the inspector is looking my way. I have to just keep walking and hope that Freddie is following. If he isn’t, all is lost.

I pull back the gate and let Mercury go, putting down the bucket of feed. I take a deep breath and turn. I even have my eyes squeezed tight a little. I look out to the oyster beds but my heart lurches with love and gratitude to see Freddie standing right behind me, nudging me for nuts. Just call me the donkey whisperer! I look up at Sean and I know I’m grinning from ear to ear. Sean’s grinning right back at me. He raises his hand in the tiniest of waves. I can see him relax and settle into the inspection. Nancy on the other hand looks like she’s sucking a lemon. 

Chapter Eighteen

‘We passed!’ Sean shouts. He’s holding up a piece of paper. The white van disappears off up the lane, listing this way and that on the uneven ground. Sean looks relieved and he’s grinning like a daft schoolboy.

‘That’s brilliant!’ I say, hands on hips, still a little out of breath from being chased by Brenda the goose.

‘So that’s it. The place is yours!’ I can’t help but smile with him because I can leave now knowing the place he loves, his livelihood, his passion, is safe.

‘For the next ten years at least, providing there’s no problems with the waters in the meantime. I’m in business!’ He lets out a whoop and suddenly grabs me, picks me up, and swings me round. I grab hold of my hat with one hand and grab hold of his shoulder with the other. I shriek as Sean spins me round, just as Nancy decides to join us. Sean puts me down but doesn’t let his smile drop.

‘We did it!’ he hugs and kisses Nancy. I’m still fuming at her lack of effort.

‘I knew you would,’ she smiles, giving me the merest sideways glance before cupping his face in both hands and kissing him long and hard. I look away, feeling like a big fat gooseberry. But Nancy manages to catch my eye when she comes up for air, giving me another pointed look, making sure I’d got the message.

‘So where do you want to go to celebrate?’ Nancy rubs away traces of her bright red lipstick from his mouth as she stands with her arm around his back, practically entwined.

‘You choose, I’m not bothered,’ he says bending down to rub Grace’s head in celebratory mood. Nancy moves her leg away as Grace snakes around in front of Sean. Nancy and I may have crossed swords earlier but I hope now this meal will mean we can put any misunderstandings behind us and any talk of Sean leaving the farm and going to work in her restaurant.

‘Oh I’ve got something for you,’ Sean pulls out a brown envelope from his back pocket and hands it to me. ‘It’s not much I’m afraid, but it’s what I owe you and just a bit extra. I know how hard you’ve worked.’

I take the envelope of notes and smile. It was hard-earned money and it’s going to have to last me until I find more work.

‘Right, dinner tonight. Where’s it to be?’ Sean says to Nancy. I tap the envelope and smile some more.

‘Sure you don’t mind, Fi?’ Nancy smiles sweetly at me.

‘Mind?’ I’m confused.

‘You’ll be OK here on your own won’t you?’ she tells me, not asks.

Sean looks up from rubbing Grace’s ears.

‘Oh but I thought …

‘I mean, what if the oyster pirates were to return?’ Nancy says. ‘I’m worried sick about them coming back.’ She looks at Sean.

I swallow and nod.

‘Of course. I’ll be fine.’ My little celebratory bubble bursts.

‘You sure you don’t mind, English? I could go into town, get something and cook. We could all eat together this evening.’

‘No, don’t be daft …’ I say at the same time that Nancy’s says,‘No, she’s fine.’

I bite my lip.

‘If you’re sure,’ Sean double checks with me and I nod. ‘I’ll grab a shower and we’ll be off then. Nothing much more we can do now. Take the rest of the day off.’ Sean grins, then runs into the cottage, obviously keen to get his night of celebrations under way. Nancy’s smile drops and she throws me another warning look, then turns and swings her long dark hair and sashays up the uneven steps with amazing steadiness and into the cottage.

‘Looks like two’s a party, three’s a crowd,’ I say to Grace, rubbing her ears. I breathe in deeply.

The air seems to have a calming effect. It smells salty and fresh. I’d like to try and remember that smell. The wind flicks at the ends of my hair poking out from under my hat. I need to get down to the café before he shuts and get on the internet to book a flight. I shut my eyes and let the freshness fill my head and lungs. At least I feel I’m leaving here a little more sorted in myself, compared to when I’d arrived. I might even miss it a bit. I watch as Grace sniffs at the rocks, up and down. I’ll miss Freddie and Mercury too. But not Brenda the goose, or Nancy for that matter.

‘I’m walking into town,’ I call to Sean and Nancy as I grab Grace’s lead from just inside the door on the coat pegs. But there’s no reply and the bedroom door is shut. Together Grace and I set off down the lane.

Sean felt bad about not taking Fi with them to dinner. But Nancy was right, they couldn’t risk not having someone here, just in case whoever had been there returned that night. Nancy was wrapped around him, kissing his neck, but he wasn’t really in the mood. He was sorry that Fi was leaving. She’d worked hard, a bit erratic, but she’d been a star at cleaning, weighing, and grading the oysters, and Grace loved her. It had been good to know someone was here. Now he’d have to advertise again. He couldn’t risk losing his stock now he was on the up.

He’d miss Fi. His mind flitted back to the night before. Had he imagined it or had they nearly kissed? Thank God, they hadn’t. He had promised her he wouldn’t overstep the mark. He put it down to a moment of madness. But he couldn’t help but think how much he’d enjoyed himself last night. It’d been a long time since he’d just sat and enjoyed someone’s company. He’d enjoyed telling her about the oysters and she’d seemed keen to listen.

I unclip Grace’s lead at the top of the stone steps and follow her down on to the sandy beach. Grace catapults across it, scattering the oystercatchers in all directions. Grace is running in big huge circles, leaving footprints in the virgin sand. I walk down to the water’s edge where waves are gently rolling in and over and then sliding back. I look out across the rocks, then as far as my eye can see. Next stop America. I stop and stare and wonder. That’s the sort of place I could really get lost in. I turn to follow Grace along the beach.

‘Hello there.’ The voice makes me jump. It’s Maire, from the art shop, bending down and picking up something. In the other hand a plastic bag is blowing like a flag in the wind.

‘Hi,’ I say, peeling back the hair that’s flying across my eyes. ‘What are you looking for?’

‘Shells, any shells.’ She’s scouring the beach. ‘Thought I’d have a go at some picture frames. Not going to get very far with this little lot though.’ She holds up a bag with her few finds. I turn around, looking where I’m standing and see a small shell in a little rock pool. I put my hand into the cold water and hand it to her. She holds open the flapping bag for me to drop it in.

‘Thank you,’ she smiles and we fall into step together, scouring the shoreline.

‘So you’re moving on then,’ Maire says bending for another shell.

‘Yes,’ I skirt a large rock. Maire picks up something and holds it out to me.

‘Looks like that one’s got lost,’ Maire says. It’s a starfish. It feels weird on my skin, cold, wet, and rough. ‘Put it into one of the pools.’ She points to a large rock with little pools around it. I look at it again and then slide it back into the water, feeling like I’ve helped it come in from the wilderness.

‘So, you going anywhere nice?’ Maire opens her bag for me to drop another small shell into.

‘Not really. Probably go on and stay with my mother for a bit. She’s in Malta. Unless another job comes up before then, preferably somewhere hot and not near water,’ I laugh gently and so does Maire.

‘Doing the ski chalets is a nice job, but that’s not for another few months. Or there’s grape harvest in France,’ she offers.

‘You sound like you’ve travelled yourself.’ Grace is now in the water, splashing around.

‘Yes, but nothing beats coming home. It may not be the town it used to be, but it’s home.’ She stops, having found a patch of tiny shells and I help collect them.

‘Probably seems pretty dead to someone from the city,’ she puffs a little.

‘Well …’ I shrug, not wanting to be rude. ‘It is pretty quiet.’

‘No one comes any more. They used to. This place was heaving. Businesses thrived, it was fabulous. Especially at the oyster festival. There were stalls, bunting, Tom Thornton even brought the donkeys down and the kids rode them on the beach. Brilliant days they were.’

‘So why did it stop?’ I decide to ask. I’d like to know before I leave.

She sighs. ‘It was Tom, Sean Thornton’s uncle. There’d been a lot of rumours. The waters weren’t coming up to standard. Everyone was pointing the finger at everyone else. Farmers were going out of business. Everyone was finding it hard. Tom blamed the Murphy brothers for their building work down from his farm. Anyway, one night over the oyster festival they got into a row. Sean had just arrived. Rumours were rife …’ She stops and stands up straight. ‘People round here didn’t wait to ask,’ Maire carries on. ‘The waters were bad and everyone was looking for someone to blame. Tom was ill. There was an argument the night of the shell-shucking contest. The Murphys said that Sean should be disqualified for being a blow-in, said it was for local people only. Well, everything got out of hand. There was a scuffle and Tom … Tom had a heart attack and died there and then, God rest his soul.’ Neither of us said anything for a moment. The sky got a little darker.

‘Sean took over the farm, much to the mutterings of other locals who said he wasn’t really Tom’s blood relative and didn’t deserve it.’

‘But his other cousins weren’t interested. He was the only one.’ I don’t know why I feel I should defend him, but I do. ‘They’d all moved abroad.’

Maire shrugs and we walk on searching for shells. When we reach the end of the beach we turn and walk back the other way, letting the wind fill the silences between us.

‘I thought you coming here might’ve changed all that,’ Maire suddenly says sadly.

‘Me? How could I change things?’ We reach the end of the beach and I look up at the stone steps.

‘Sometimes it takes someone from outside to … see things from a new perspective. No one ever mentions the oyster festival, until the other night.’

‘I didn’t realise …’

‘Oh it wasn’t your fault, dear. It’s this lot. It’s time they all learnt to forgive and forget, to move on and leave the past behind. For just a minute I saw a glimmer of hope,’ she smiles. ‘What this town needs is someone to put it back on the map.’ She rummages in her bag and pulls out a large shell.

‘Here, a souvenir,’ she says. I’m touched.

‘Thank you.’ I take the cream, curled shell and look at it.

‘I’m sorry it couldn’t be me,’ I say apologetically.

‘Don’t worry dear. Hope you find what you’re looking for.’ We walk up the steps together with Grace following behind.

‘I hope so too,’ I say into the wind.

I head for the petrol station still looking at the shell in my hand.

‘It’s promised rain,’ Rose says scanning my bottle of white wine and large bag of Doritos into the till.

‘Yes,’ I look out of the window. ‘I think you’re right, Rose.’

‘Coming to the meeting this week, Fi?’ She holds out her chubby hand for the money.

‘No, ʼfraid not Rose. In fact, I’m not going to be coming to any more meetings. I’m leaving. Just off to look up flights on the internet.’ I take my change.

‘Ah no, what a shame. We were just getting used to you,’ she says shutting the till and I half laugh, not sure if she’s joking or not.

‘D’you hear that, Margaret?’ I turn to see Margaret with new bleached blonde hair coming into the shop.

‘What?’

‘Fi’s leaving us.’

‘Ah, no way. I’ll be the only young one in town again!’ Margaret grabs a bottle of white wine and some Pringles.

‘You two should have a party,’ Rose laughs, pointing to our wine.

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Margaret turns to me hopefully.

‘Oh I can’t. I have to get back to the farm.’

‘Hey, Seamus, d’you here that, Fi’s leaving us,’ Rose is passing on the news to the pub’s regulars. ‘Isn’t it a shame, Padraig?’

‘Aye. Going anywhere nice?’

I shrug, ‘Maybe Malta, to see my mother.’ I cringe at the thought. But staying here isn’t an option any more, especially after I nearly made a fool of myself last night. I go to leave the shop and Margaret falls into step beside me.

‘How’s Sean?’

‘Good,’ I say and smile.

‘His horoscope says he’s moving into a lucky phase.’

I smile again as I make my way back to the café.

‘Thought I might pop in and see him. See if he fancies a drink. I’ve got the evening off.’ Margaret holds up her bottle.

‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ I think I should tell her straight.

‘But I thought you said that you and he weren’t …’ She looks crestfallen.

‘We’re not!’ I interrupt her, almost too keenly. ‘He’s with his partner.’

‘His partner?!’ She stops me in my tracks.

‘Nancy. She’s French. She’s his oyster broker, you know sells his oysters on for him. They go way back.’

‘Yes, yes, I know what an oyster broker is. It’s her, in the black BMW?’ She flops down onto a bench looking out to sea. She looks up at me and I confirm it, apologetically.

‘I’ve seen her around. Heard rumours, y’know?’

‘I’m beginning to,’ I smile thinking how much I’ve realised this place runs on rumour. I turn to look at the café. The door is shut and there’s a sign but I’m too far away to read it.

‘Ah no. The café’s shut.’ I flap my hands against my thighs.

‘Gone to Dublin to pick up a new urn.’

I turn back to see Margaret with the cap off her bottle of wine, swigging from it.

‘Here,’ she offers it up to me.

‘No really I can’t. I had to do something in the café and then I have to get back,’ I point with my thumb over my shoulder.

‘Well, the café’s shut. This is the only place you’ll get a drink now.’ Margaret takes another swig.

Oh, what harm could it do? The least I could do is sit with her for a while; it was me that delivered the bad news in the first place after all.

‘You and Sean … were you…?’

‘I wish.’ Margaret says taking big swigs. ‘But it will happen,’ she says confidently.

‘Really? How do you know?’ I wish I could be that confident about my life falling into place.

‘It’s in my stars.’ Margaret says with a dreamy look on her face.

‘And how long have you thought you two were … fated to be together?’ I ask taking the bottle and sitting down beside her. Grace lies down at my feet. I take a swig from the bottle. It’s warm but somehow hits the spot after the day I’ve had.