The Boatman's Wife(46)

‘Would you prefer a room with a view of the sea, or at the back of the house, which is quieter, and less expensive?’ Noreen asked.

Lily didn’t even need to think about her choice.

The bedroom was quite large, with a big rectangular window looking out across the road to the beach she’d just been walking on. The sun was beginning to set behind the grey clouds, and shafts of golden light were beaming across the choppy sea.

‘What a view,’ Lily commented.

‘I know, it’s the best,’ Noreen said, handing her the room key. ‘So, you’ve your own en suite bathroom,’ she continued, talking so fast, Lily was having problems keeping up. ‘Breakfast is between seven and nine in the morning during the week, and eight and ten at the weekends. Are you just staying the one night?’

‘Oh, no, maybe a few days?’ Lily said, uncertainly.

Noreen gave her a curious look, but didn’t push. ‘Well now, I’ll let you get settled in,’ she said. ‘Have you had any dinner?’

‘No,’ Lily said, realising that she was very hungry after her walk on the beach. ‘Is there a pub or restaurant where I can get food?’

‘The pub serves a good Irish stew, but you’re welcome to join myself and my daughters for dinner.’

Lily felt a little awkward at the suggestion. ‘I can’t intrude on your family meal.’

‘Not at all, it’s just me and the girls,’ Noreen said. ‘They’ll be delighted with the company. Someone other than their boring mam to talk to. Do you like fish?’

Lily smiled. ‘Yes, I sure do.’

After Noreen left, Lily sat down on the bed and stared out of the window. She watched the sun setting, clouds lit up stacked orange and gold in the sky. She sat quite still until the sun was gone and darkness spread across the sky. She didn’t move until she could only see faint glimmers of the sea caught in scattered moonlight from the crescent moon. She got up and closed the curtains, turning on the beside lamp. The room was all cream. Walls, carpets, and furniture. On the wall above the bed was a picture of a vase of lilies. She wanted to take it down. How she hated lilies.

Lily unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a sweater. She was freezing. She put her hand on the radiator, and to her surprise, it was hot, but the room still felt cold. On the bedside table there was a small card with the Wi-Fi code. Lily took out her phone and got connected to the internet before bringing up the email, which she had forwarded to her own address. She sat on the bed, the pillows propped behind her back and read it again.

Does your wife know who you really are, Connor Fitzgerald? I don’t want you to ever forget not one day goes by when I don’t want to get you back for what you did.





Lily stopped reading to scratch her arm. But the itching still wouldn’t go away.

You’re not welcome in Mullaghmore ever again. So, don’t ever think you can come home with your new wife. Because if you do, I swear I’ll kill you.





The email was short, but every single word felt threatening. Someone in this small village in Ireland must know who she was. Could she even be in danger herself, perhaps, if this person was monitoring her and Connor’s lives? What had Connor done to make someone want to kill him?

Lily hadn’t driven around the village yet, but looking on a map on her phone it appeared small. So, whoever it was, if they still lived here, could be right next door, or down the street. Lily felt a clench of anxiety in her stomach. Who had her husband really been?



Noreen’s two daughters took after their mother with all the fast talking, and, moreover, questions.

‘Where’re you from?’ the younger one asked. ‘My name’s Aisling, I’m twelve and I’ve lived in Mullaghmore all my life,’ she said proudly. Aisling had black curly hair and blue eyes like her mother. She kept on staring at Lily, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, eyes huge behind them.

‘Aisling, have some manners now,’ Noreen said. The girls’ mother looked to be in her thirties, a young mother. She flitted about between the kitchen and the dining room.

‘It’s fine,’ Lily said, preferring to talk rather than to eat in awkward silence. ‘I’m from America, Maine.’

‘Is that on the north-east coast?’ asked the other girl, whose name was Saoirse. She looked several years older than her sister, with long, straight red hair, and also wore glasses. As she spoke, she was texting on her phone, her eyes flicking up and down.

‘That’s right. Maine is north of New York and Boston, the last bit of the States before Canada. It’s on the coast. Right by the ocean,’ Lily said.

‘Saoirse, would you put your phone away at the table?’ Noreen asked her daughter.

Saoirse gave her mother a sullen look. ‘Why?’

‘Because it’s rude,’ Noreen said.

‘Tell you what, I’ll put it down, but on the table so I can still see it,’ Saoirse bargained.

Noreen sighed and rolled her eyes at Lily. She was embarrassed, but clearly didn’t want to lay down the law in front of her guest.

‘So, you live on the other side of the Atlantic?’ Aisling asked Lily.

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘You could sail home if you wanted.’