The Boatman's Wife(44)

Her dad hadn’t been able to look her in the eye. ‘But why Ireland of all places, Lily?’

‘Because I want to visit Connor’s grandmother,’ Lily had said. ‘She needs to know what happened to her grandson, and I am not writing it in a letter.’

She had no idea of Rosemary’s exact address, or second name. But how many Rosemarys could there be in Mullaghmore? She was definitely not going to mention the mysterious email to her parents. She was certain they would try to stop her going if she did.

‘Look, you need to be with family right now,’ her mom had said, her voice softening. ‘The last thing you should do is go off on your own.’

‘I won’t change my mind,’ Lily told her parents. ‘I have to get away. I can’t look out my window at that view any longer. At the ocean which took away my husband’s life.’

‘Running away is not the answer,’ her father said. ‘You’re just putting off the inevitable.’

‘I don’t care,’ Lily said. ‘I need to get away from both of you, now.’ She gave her dad a fierce look, but inside her heart was breaking. She missed her father so much. The man who stood before her was no longer the same person to her. It felt like he was pretending to care. He was a liar, responsible for Connor’s death. Yet at the same time, she was frightened for him. What if he got found guilty of manslaughter?

‘Take the bus then,’ her mom had said tartly to her.

Her mom knew Lily hated buses, got travel sickness as soon as she sat down. A strange thing to happen to a fisher who never got seasick. But there it was: land and air travel made Lily queasy. ‘I’m not driving you to the airport, and nor is your dad,’ her mom had warned, hoping their refusal to transport Lily would stop her from going.

But all she’d done was to ring Angie for a ride.

As the sedatives Angie had given her began to take effect, Lily wondered whether she was running away or running towards the truth.



She woke up as the plane was landing. It was early morning in Dublin, and as she looked out of the small window, her chest tightened with anticipation. She’d actually done it. Flown across the Atlantic – and here she was in her husband’s homeland. It was a grey day, and she could see it was raining, drops of water trailing down the outside of the airplane window. Her plan was to get a car rental and drive directly to the west of Ireland. It should only take her two or three hours. She’d slept the whole plane journey, so she felt okay, if a little groggy still. A strong black coffee would sort her out, then she’d get on the road.



Everything was so different. For a start, she had to drive on the other side of the road and use a shift gear. Luckily, she’d driven an old shift stick pickup of her father’s a few times as a teenager, so it didn’t take long for her to get used to it again.

At first there was motorway and that was fine, but it didn’t last for long. Soon, she was turning off onto a smaller road, following her GPS directions towards Sligo. It was the narrowness of the roads which freaked her out, and how twisty they were, especially the closer she got to her destination. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got to Mullaghmore. But surely someone would have heard of Connor, and be able to direct her to his grandmother? She felt sick with nerves at the thought of having to tell her he was gone. Lily bit her lip, and tasted blood. The further she was away from home, the more illusory it was that Connor was gone forever. Her husband was fading, and the closer she came to Mullaghmore, the closer she came to the enigma of the man referred to in the mysterious email.



By the time she drove into the small town of Carrick-on-Shannon, Lily was so tired – despite the coffee in the airport – that she knew she had to take a break and eat something. She was just over an hour away from Mullaghmore, but the winding Irish roads meant she had to concentrate hard when she was behind the wheel. She parked the car on the outskirts of the town and walked back in, crossing a stone bridge over the River Shannon. It still felt so unreal that she was physically in Connor’s homeland. Regret swept through her. She should be here with her husband, not on her own, broken-hearted and grieving. She took a breath, gulping down the tears. She couldn’t start crying in the middle of the street in front of a bunch of strangers. She went into the first pub she could see, thankful for its dark interior. After ordering a coffee and a plate of smoked salmon and homemade brown bread, she sat down at a table in the corner and checked her phone for messages. A long one from her mom:

Hope your flight got in okay. Please let me know, Lily. I get you’re real upset with me and your dad. But we only want what’s best for you. You shouldn’t be on your own right now. We should hear the outcome of the US Coast Guard’s official report next week, and whether they’ll drop charges or take it forwards to trial. It would be good if you could be there as part of the family. Love, Mom.





Seriously? Fury coursed through her. If her mom was right in front of her, Lily would be screaming her head off at her. How dare she put that on her, when her dad was responsible for Connor’s death? The report was about his seaman’s manslaughter charge for the death of Connor, for christsake. What planet was her mom on? She took a big gulp of coffee to try to steady her irritation, but it didn’t help. She’d never felt so angry in her entire life. In fact, she was tempted to text a message back, and tell her parents she never, never wanted to see them again. It took all her restraint not to, and only because she knew it would make Connor sad to know they were fighting.