The Boatman's Wife(21)

It was no good. She had to wake him up. Even if it was to know to cancel the appointment. She gently shook his shoulder.

‘Connor, are you awake?’

Her husband stirred in the bed, turned to her. ‘What?’

‘Did you mean what you said?’

She sensed him choosing his words carefully.

‘I don’t want to lose you,’ he said, pausing. ‘I’ll go to the clinic if you really want me to.’

Her heart took a little jump of hope. ‘You will?’ She sniffed.

‘Sure,’ he said, beginning to stroke her body. ‘I just need time, honey. You know, to get my head around it.’

She kissed him on the lips, and he pulled her even tighter.

‘Will you go out with Daddy and Ryan tomorrow, so I can go to Portland for the first appointment?’ she asked him.

Connor groaned.

‘You know how I hate fishing with your dad,’ he said. ‘I always feel I’m never good enough for him.’

‘But it’s for a good cause,’ she said, wrapping her legs around his waist.

‘I guess,’ he said.



Lily’s heart felt like it was going crack open with pain. Two days ago they had made love in this bed. Connor so alive in her arms. How could he be gone?

She sat up, remembering the voicemail Connor had left her that morning. With shaking hands, she pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans.

‘Morning, darling, hope I didn’t wake you. Wanted to call before we’re out of coverage. Am just out on the ocean, thinking about you. That you gave me this. The ocean, and your family. Even lobsters for the restaurant.’ She heard his soft laugh in the background. The sound of Ryan calling him, and the noise of their boat starting up. ‘You gave me everything, Lily. I’m sorry about last night, baby. I want to give you everything… If you want a baby, so do I.’

Lily wiped the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve. She knew where she got her bull-headedness from. It was her father. He always wanted more, too. But for him it was lobsters. Always pushing them to keep going and drop the maximum quota they were allowed. Always searching for new underwater ledges, further away from port.

It just couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t accept that Connor was lost. Lily looked up the number of the Coast Guard on the phone and rang them.

‘Hey, it’s Lily Fitzgerald here.’

‘Hey, Lily.’ She heard Ray George’s tired voice. ‘I’m sorry, but Connor’s not been found.’

‘Please can you keep looking for him?’ she pushed.

There was a pause. She knew what he would say, but she had to hear him say it outright.

‘No one could have survived those waters, Lily, you know that,’ Ray said. ‘He’s gone. I’m sorry.’



The next day was still and glorious. The foliage that remained on the trees shimmered in the soft fall light. Lily woke from a night of disturbed dreams to reality again. Connor was gone. She drew her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her hands. How could she get through another day without Connor?

There was a soft knock on the door. She didn’t bother to answer, but she heard it open. Felt the weight of her mom sitting on the end of the bed.

‘Honey, you need to try,’ her mom said, putting her hand on her arm. ‘You need to do something, occupy yourself. How about going fishing with one of the other lads? They’ll pay you decent money.’

Lily shook her head. The idea of going out lobster fishing was horrific to her. For the first time, it hit her. They’d not only lost Connor, but the Lily May too.

‘We’ll be getting another boat on insurance,’ her mom said, as if reading Lily’s thoughts. ‘Your dad will be back on his feet soon. He only has some bruising on his ribs.’

Lily looked up at her mom, and saw that her eyes were loaded with pity. A look she’d never given her ever before. It felt almost as if she were a stranger.

‘We need to do something for Connor,’ her mom suggested.

‘Like a funeral?’ Lily whispered in horror. ‘But there’s no body! I can’t even say goodbye to him.’

‘I know, honey, I know, but what about we have a memorial, make a tribute to Connor?’

Lily felt sick. ‘I don’t want to, Mom.’

‘I think it would help us all,’ her mom said. ‘And Lily, you need to contact Connor’s grandmother.’

Lily felt instantly guilty. ‘Mom, I haven’t even thought of his grandmother.’

‘Do you have a number for her?’

‘No,’ Lily said. ‘If there is one, it would be in Connor’s phone.’ She and her mom looked at each other. The sentence left hanging. The phone, which was with Connor at the bottom of the ocean.

‘I know we’ve never met her,’ her mom said. ‘But you must contact her. Connor was her grandson.’

Her mom reached and squeezed Lily’s hand in encouragement.

It had always been in the back of Lily’s mind. The story behind Connor’s family. But the odd time she’d brought it up, he just kept repeating himself: mother dead, no idea who his father was. It was his grandmother he loved. He told Lily her name was Rosemary and she was a postmistress who also wrote poetry. She had encouraged Connor to go study in America. Had no idea he’d dropped out to work in bars, and then train as a chef. So, when Connor had told Lily his grandmother couldn’t come to their wedding, was too frail and ill, if she was honest, she’d been a little relieved. What if Connor’s grandmother blamed Lily for leading her grandson astray, away from his studies? Thought a non-college-going lobster-fishing girl wasn’t good enough for her boy? Decided Lily had turned her grandson into a barman, a cook, and now a dead fisherman?