A Keeper(75)

At first, things had been difficult. Convincing Zach to stay in school and arranging a leave of absence for herself from Hunter had been a struggle, but she had muddled through. She had graded papers from home and, although still unsold, she had managed to rent out Convent Hill. Then there was an unexpected but extremely welcome change in her circumstances. The Giardino family had reached a sizeable out-of-court settlement with the medical centre following the badly performed epidural, and they had decided to put half in trust for their grandson and give the rest to Elizabeth, to help her raise the child. The money was a godsend. She was able to return to teaching part-time at Hunter and her little family decamped to a modest duplex apartment on the top two floors of one of the few un-gentrified brownstones in Williamsburg.

Elizabeth loved being a mother again. It was so much easier the second time around, and, she reminded herself, that wasn’t just because there was no Elliot this time. Of course, there were nights when she couldn’t sleep, or her grandson refused to sleep, when she sat in the dark holding the baby and thought about Michelle. Poor woman. Elizabeth didn’t rewrite history, she never pretended that she had been fond of the woman, but it did break her heart that Michelle had been robbed of time with her son. He was a magical little boy. Elizabeth thought of her own mother too. She had wondered if looking after another woman’s baby might give her some insight into the mind of Patricia Keane, but, if anything, she felt she understood her less. Elizabeth was impatient to tell her grandson about his mother, show him pictures, allow him to ask questions. Had her mother never felt compelled to tell her the truth? Times were different then, she supposed, but it still bothered her. Surely the truth had always had a value? Or maybe back then other things were more important? They must have been or why else would secrets have been a way of life?

Castle House had found a buyer and the new owner was waiting for them as their car bumped and bounced its way down the lane. Hair slicked back, and wearing a freshly ironed shirt, Brian gave them a wave. The purchase had been purely practical. He wanted a yard adjacent to the land and it was a reasonable price. He still hadn’t decided what to do with the house, probably just wait till it had joined the castle as a ruin. Elizabeth hadn’t known he was the buyer until he had texted her to inform her about her father’s death. There had been nothing left to bequeath in the will, the land had been sold to Brian years earlier, and Elizabeth already had the house, but there was the question of Edward’s remains. The solicitor who had power of attorney had contacted Brian to see if he had a number for the previous owner of Castle House, and indeed he did. Elizabeth hadn’t been sure what to do. Being so far away, she didn’t know if she could arrange a funeral, or where Mary was buried, so she had just asked for a small private service at the crematorium in Cork. Today was to be about the ashes.

Elizabeth got out of the car and gave Brian a peck on the cheek.

‘Great to see you.’

‘You too. You’ve picked a great day for it.’

‘Yes.’

They both looked around at the ruins, the blue sky peeping through the narrow misshapen windows. A banging sound brought them back to the car.

Zach was knocking on the car window.

‘Mom, let us out!’

Elizabeth laughed. ‘Sorry, sorry.’

She opened the back door, and then she and Zach both struggled with the car seat.

A large white Range Rover was coming down the drive. It seemed to fill the whole lane. Elizabeth looked and waved. ‘Oh, good. She made it.’

The car pulled up beside the other two and Cathy Crowley stepped out, before going around the car to help her mother Ann Lynch from the passenger’s side.

‘Are you all right there?’

‘I’d need a ladder. I hate this car.’ Eventually the old lady’s feet made contact with the ground and they walked over to the small waiting group. Elizabeth noticed how nicely dressed they were. She hoped they weren’t expecting a formal ceremony or some catered event afterwards.

‘Nice to see you both again. I’m so glad you could come.’ Elizabeth smiled and reached forward to shake hands.

‘And this is my son Zach. Cathy Crowley, Mrs Lynch.’ She hoped she was doing this correctly. Zach stepped forward awkwardly and offered his handshake.

‘And who is this little man?’ Mrs Lynch asked, taking hold of the little foot that was being wiggled in front of her face by the child that Zach was holding.

‘That is my grandson. His name is Foley.’

Mrs Lynch smiled. ‘Foley. Isn’t that lovely?’

‘Well, we’re all here so I should get his great-grandfather out of the car.’

Elizabeth went to retrieve a large plastic container, with a screw-top lid.

‘I’ve never been to one of these before,’ Mrs Lynch declared proudly.

‘I must admit, nor have I,’ her daughter added. ‘What happens?’

Elizabeth looked at Brian and Zach, hoping that one of them might have something to say, but they just stared back waiting for her to explain.

‘I’m not entirely sure either. There are no hard and fast rules. I just thought we’d spread his ashes out into the sea. If anyone wants to say something they can. I think that’s it.’ She gave a shrug.

‘The first thing I’d say would be we shouldn’t do it here.’ Brian pointed at the paddock in front of the house. ‘The wind is coming straight in off the sea, and we’ll end up wearing him.’ Mrs Lynch made a sound that suggested she would not enjoy that. ‘We’d be better off going around the side, below the ruin, where there’s a bit of shelter.’