A Keeper(52)

‘Well, I’m hoping to talk to some woman down in Muirinish, but then I was going to head back to Buncarragh, so that could work.’ She hadn’t been looking forward to returning to Keane and Sons; the idea of lunch was a welcome distraction.

‘Great. I’ll find out where is open and let you know. Should we swap numbers?’

‘Sure.’

They both fished out their phones and exchanged their information. There was another brief awkward pause, neither of them sure if a peck on the cheek or a handshake was called for. Not wanting to get it wrong, Elizabeth ducked back into her car with a cheery ‘See you later’ and drove off.

The road down to Muirinish seemed much shorter in daylight and far more scenic. After passing Carey’s pub, the road curved around the shoulder of a hill, giving her an uninterrupted view of the sea. To her right she could just see the top of the castle ruins sticking out from a group of tall pines. Her house. So strange to think that she owned an ancient Irish castle, even stranger to think that it was her family seat. She would have loved to call Zach to tell him about it, to share jokes comparing it to their tiny apartment in New York, but she knew that she shouldn’t. He needed time to cool down and she needed time to digest the news of his impending fatherhood. What to say for the best? Was there anything to say? Apparently this baby was going to arrive and apart from loading Zach and a bunch of condoms into a time machine, there didn’t seem to be a solitary thing she could do about it.

She slowed down as she went past the gates to Castle House and then at the fork in the road she didn’t head over the causeway but followed the signs for Muirinish. She was keeping an eye out for a garage. The car was low on fuel but she also wanted to find something to eat. The lack of both dinner and breakfast meant she was starving. The narrow road, boxed in by hedges, curved through fields and past a few large newly built houses, until at the bottom of a short hill it widened out. On the right was a series of large grey buildings with curved corrugated iron roofs. A clock was painted on the side wall, telling the world that it would forever more be a quarter to three or fifteen minutes past nine. It was hard to tell since the artist had made both hands the same length. In a window there was a large red and white sign that said ‘Good luck Cork’. Elizabeth assumed it referred to some upcoming sporting event but it might just as easily have been cheering the county on in case of an impending apocalypse. Further down on the left was another series of buildings painted in a shade of dirty mustard. The large sign declared this to be ‘Supermarket and Hardware’. Elizabeth pulled over and got out of the car.

Inside there was a smell that reminded her of Keane and Sons in Buncarragh, but this store was laid out in a series of aisles like any modern supermarket. She headed to the back where she could see some chiller cabinets. Bringing a cellophane-wrapped sausage roll and a can of diet Coke up to the counter, she noticed a sign saying ‘Free Wi-Fi’.

‘Is there a café here?’ Elizabeth asked the young woman behind the counter who was hunched over the till, her long dark hair hanging over her shoulders, while both very pink ears stuck out on either side. She looked up and squinted as if Elizabeth hadn’t been speaking English. She made a noise that could be best described as an inquisitive grunt.

‘The free Wi-Fi? Is there somewhere to sit and use it?’

‘Where are you parked?’ the woman asked, pulling a loose strand of hair from her mouth. Elizabeth really wasn’t following this conversation but told her the location of her car.

‘You can get the Wi-Fi out there. It’s the only one and there’s no password. Do you need a bag?’

She didn’t. Elizabeth paid, went out to the car and picked up her glasses from the passenger seat. Sure enough, when she opened her laptop, everything came to pass just as the cashier had described.

Elizabeth scanned her emails. Mostly junk, or group emails from Hunter she was safe to ignore. Another missive from Linda Jetter detailing the moods and movements of Shelly the cat. Was it wrong that Elizabeth cared so little? The subject line of the newest email read ‘Our news’ and it wasn’t a sender that she recognised: [email protected]. She opened it.

Dear Elizabeth,

I wanted to call, but this seemed safer. I wanted you to hear me without voices being raised or accusations flying.

The first thing to say is that I am very sorry. I never intended for any of this to happen. I betrayed your trust and I am not proud of myself. You brought me into your home as an educator and I did not behave in a way that was proper. I understand that you must be very angry. My own parents are not very happy with the news either. You should call them!

Elizabeth pushed her laptop away. Was this woman trying to make jokes? She had only avoided being accused of statutory rape by a few months! A slight tremor had taken hold of her right hand. She couldn’t remember when she had ever been this angry. She wanted to commit violent acts, cause bodily harm, scream at somebody. Elizabeth read on.

You will not be surprised that my life has not turned out the way I had planned. I have a failed marriage—

Elizabeth let out an involuntary grunt of disapproval.

—and a failed business. Please don’t think I am trying to make excuses but Zach was the first person to make me feel good about myself in a very long time.

A scarf. Elizabeth wanted to get a long scarf, wrap it around Michelle’s neck and pull really hard.