The Boatman's Wife(27)

‘Sometimes my gran would fill a bath full of really hot water, so the steam would be billowing out of it, and put loads of fresh seaweed in it,’ Connor said. ‘I’d sink into the bath and lie there for hours, until my fingers were pruned and the water had gone cold.’

‘Aw, not too sure I’d like to lie down in all that sliminess,’ Lily commented.

‘It’s very good for your skin,’ he declared. ‘Great for the hair, makes it thick and glossy.’

He scooped up some kelp, drops of seawater spraying her face, and made to put it on her head.

‘Don’t you dare!’

She’d run out of the sea, laughing, and he’d chased her down the beach. She’d let him catch her, because she knew he’d never put a pile of slimy seaweed on her hair really. Once he had her in his arms, he dropped the strands and kissed her. He tasted of the sea and made her feel so good in herself.

Lily’s heart began to accelerate. How could Connor be dead? Her darling man from across the Atlantic ocean, who had kissed her all over, and told her she was the most beautiful girl in the whole world? Fury ripped through her. She’d always loved the ocean, but now she hated it. She was mad with Connor for leaving her, but most of all she was furious with her dad.

She pulled out another piece of paper, started writing again.

Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Why didn’t you bring me to Ireland to meet your grandmother? I promise I’m going to find her.





Lily heard her front door open, and her father’s voice call out for her.

‘Lily! Where are you?

Her whole body stiffened. She got up off the chair and stomped downstairs.

‘I’ve been calling your phone,’ her father said. ‘We need to talk.’

Lily looked at her father, incredulous. How dare he walk into her and Connor’s home unannounced and tell her she needed to talk to him?

‘Well, Dad, I’m not sure I want to talk to you right now.’ Lily shrugged, pushing strands of greasy hair out of her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a shower.

‘Want a coffee?’ her father said, ignoring her hostility and heading towards the kitchen. She could see by the slow way he walked that he was still sore.

‘I’d prefer a big glass of vodka,’ Lily said, following him into the kitchen.

Lily sat up at the counter and watched her father make a pot of coffee. It occurred to her that she couldn’t remember an occasion when her father had ever made her a cup of coffee before. Her mom or Connor had always been the ones in the kitchen. Lily knew her dad was trying to make things right again between them. They had always been so close. That’s why he had been suspicious of Connor when Lily had first met him. Not wanted him going out with them fishing lobster, as if he might sell her dad’s secret locations of where the best hauls might be got. Even after she and Connor had got married, her dad had been wary of him. He was a Maine man and it had thrown him that his daughter would choose to spend the rest of her life with an outsider.

But over the past two years, Connor’s charm had worked its way on her dad. It made it easier that Connor had no family nearby, because he had become absorbed in theirs.

Lily’s dad placed a steaming mug of black coffee in front of her.

‘Come on, get that down you; you look like hell.’

She felt irritated by his care. The burning pain returned to the rash on her arm, reminding her it had arrived right after Connor had died. She took a big gulp of coffee to try to steady herself. She had to hold it together somehow.

‘Your mom and I got the memorial booked for Friday the ninth, Lily,’ he said, as he sat up on a stool next to her. Lily put her mug down again.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s too soon.’

‘It’s been nearly two weeks. You need some closure.’

‘They haven’t found a body,’

‘You know they never will,’ her dad said. ‘You have to be able to lay his memory to rest, Lily, so you can have a life.’

‘But I don’t want one without Connor, that’s just it.’ She clenched her fists. ‘You’ve no right coming in here and telling me what to do.’

‘I can’t say anything that’s going to make it better, I know, but everyone here needs a memorial,’ her father said in a gentle voice. ‘We’re all real upset. We need to say goodbye to Connor.’

‘Thought he was an outsider, anyways.’ Lily held her father’s eyes.

‘That’s not true. It took a while, but he was part of our community. We want to honour him, Lily.’

‘But I’m not ready,’ she protested.

Her father sighed. She’d never seen him look so sad.

‘I know you’re mad with me,’ he said. ‘I get it.’ He leant forward, his elbows on the counter. ‘Believe me, I wish I could change what happened that day. Lily, I wish I could have taken Connor’s place.’

‘It doesn’t make it better, you saying that,’ Lily said hotly.

Her father sat back on his stool. ‘A memorial will help you,’ he said. ‘I know it did for me with your Uncle Joe.’

‘That’s different,’ Lily said.

‘It’s loss, Lily,’ her father said, before pausing. ‘Your mom told me you were going to try to find Connor’s grandmother in Ireland. Did you have any luck?’