Migrations(55)

“On their migration?”

“Aye. It’s never been done before. We’d learn so much—and not just about the birds themselves but about climate change, too.”

I smile, excitement throbbing to life within. “Let’s.”

“You’d come with me?”

“How soon can we go?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. I have work…”

“This is your work.”

“I’d have to get funding. It’ll take a lot of effort.”

I swallow my disappointment and turn back to the screen.

“We’ll go, Franny. One day. I promise.”

But he’s said this before and we never go anywhere.

“Tell me where they fly,” I murmur, and he does, he takes me over oceans and onto foreign continents, he takes me to the other end of the earth, farther than anyone has yet followed. In his voice I hear tears. I turn to him.

“I went to your house this morning,” he says.

“What house?”

“The wooden one by the sea.”

“Where Mam and I lived.”

He nods. “No one has lived there in a long time. I went inside. It was so cold, darlin’. The wind cuts straight through it and all I could see was your little body huddled into the bed with your mam trying to stay warm.”

I hold him, I wrap myself about him. If I make of myself a thick enough shell then I will keep him safe; if I fuse myself to his skin, if I am needed, then surely we can’t be parted.



* * *



Cutlery scrapes against plates and echoes off the high ceiling. It’s practically a cathedral in here.

We are staying the weekend at Niall’s parents’ place, so I can meet them. Niall wanted to do a half-hour coffee; it was me who suggested the whole weekend when I heard his dad’s longing on the phone. Arthur Lynch is a quiet, cheerful fellow who misses his son a lot. Penny Lynch is a different story. I should have opted for the coffee.

“What do you do for work, Franny?” she asks me, even though Niall’s already told her. I’m just grateful someone is speaking.

“I’m a cleaner at NUI.”

“And what drew you to that vocation?” Penny asks. She’s wearing a cashmere sweater and ruby earrings. The fireplace in the corner is the size of Dublin, and the wine we’re drinking has been in the cellar as long as Niall’s been alive.

“It’s not a vocation,” I say with a smile. I don’t know if she meant it as a joke but it’s pretty funny to me. “It’s just a job I could get with no skills or qualifications. It’s easy enough to come and go, and you can do it anywhere in the world.” I pause with the fork halfway to my mouth. “Actually to be honest, I don’t mind it. It’s meditative.”

“Happy days,” Arthur says. His cheeks are very red from the wine and he seems chuffed to have us here. His accent is more Belfast than Galway.

“And what do your parents do?”

Niall exhales loudly as though he’s about to lose his shit. He must have briefed them before we arrived, and his mother isn’t following the script.

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I haven’t seen either of them in a long time.”

“Then they’re unaware of your marriage to Niall?”

“They are.”

“What a shame. You’ve done so well for yourself, I’m sure they would be proud.”

I meet her hazel eyes, the same exact color as her son’s. I’m not playing whatever game this is. “I’m sure they would be,” I agree. “Your son’s very special.”

“How’s the new gardener going, Dad?” Niall asks loudly.

“Very well indeed—”

“How did you two meet?” Penny asks me.

I put my wineglass down. “I sat in on his class.”

“Only person in the history of my teaching career to leave in the middle of a lecture,” Niall says.

“I bruised his ego.”

“What a meet cute,” Arthur says.

Penny’s gaze is precise; everything about her is careful and poised. She says, very deliberately, “I suppose working on the university campus might allow one access to a successful young professor’s schedule.”

“Jesus, Mother—” Niall starts to say but I squeeze his knee under the table.

“Sadly the faculty isn’t so transparent with their lecturers,” I tell her. “No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find any information about the professors’ net worths or their marriage statuses. Made it really hard to know which classes to sit in on.”

It takes a moment, and then Niall dissolves into laughter. Even Arthur has a chortle, while Penny keeps her eyes trained on me and offers a magnanimous smile.

“I just like birds, Penny,” I tell her. “I promise.”

“Of course,” she murmurs, signaling for one of her staff to take our plates.



* * *



“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” Niall says, still grinning with glee. I roll my eyes and hide a smile of my own. I don’t want to condone making fun of his mother—he’s lucky to have one who still wants to be around him, and now that the moment’s passed I regret the jab.