The Boatman's Wife(56)

While she ate her food, more locals came into the bar. Mostly guys. Like in Moll’s Bar back home, these were working men, coming in for their daily pint before they headed home. The TV went on so they could all watch a soccer match, but even so, Lily could see some of the men glancing over at her. A stranger, and a woman. She didn’t belong in here. Some of those men were Connor’s age. Surely they would have known him?

She left her table, slipped onto a high stool at the counter and ordered another vodka and Coke. She could feel some of the men tense around her. Well, let them feel awkward. She had every right to sit up at this bar. Besides, she was used to the company of men, being the only woman who fished alongside the men at home. In fact, hearing the banter amongst the guys made her feel quite relaxed. Nobody got too personal. She looked up to watch the football game – which wasn’t, as it turned out, soccer. The players looked a bit like they were playing hockey, but it was way wilder.

‘Who d’you want to win?’ A guy had sidled up beside her. He was extremely good-looking in a Colin Farrell way, with blue eyes, unruly black hair, and dark stubble.

‘Oh, I don’t know who’s playing,’ Lily said. ‘In fact I don’t even know what they’re playing.’

The guy grinned at her. ‘The great Irish sport of hurling,’ he informed her.

‘It looks very rough,’ she commented, watching one of the players bash another. In America, they’d have helmets on at least, and so much padding they would all look like the Incredible Hulk.

‘That it is,’ her new companion agreed. ‘Never took to it too much, preferring not to risk brain damage, but my brother over there, well, he used to play for the county.’ He pointed to the back of a man in a blue checked shirt who was standing with his arms crossed, watching the game with a few of the others.

‘So, who do you want to win?’ Lily asked.

‘Sligo, naturally,’ the man said. ‘The other team’s Kilkenny, so it’s not looking likely. Sure, we’re getting battered.’ He took a sip of his pint. ‘My name’s Daniel, by the way. Can I get you a drink?’

‘Lily,’ she said, draining her vodka and Coke. ‘Okay. I’ve never drunk Guinness. Is it good?’

‘Well now, I’m an Irishman so it’s in my blood, but you’ll get the best pint of the black stuff in the whole of Sligo in this here pub, so,’ he said, waving over at the barman.

Lily had meant to have half a pint of Guinness – or a glass, as Daniel called it – but he was having none of it and insisted she have a pint. The first couple of sips of the drink made her feel better, numbing her heartache and confusion.

‘Where’re you from?’ Daniel asked her.

‘Rockland, a small fishing town on the coast of Maine,’ Lily told him. ‘How about you? Did you grow up here?’

‘Spent my whole life in this godforsaken boghole,’ Daniel said, taking another slug of his pint. He drank fast, and Lily found herself doing the same to keep up with him.

‘I wouldn’t call it a godforsaken boghole,’ Lily said. ‘It’s so beautiful here.’

‘More beautiful than Maine?’

‘Well, not more, just different,’ she said. ‘I guess our towns are prettier, especially our houses, but your landscape is very dramatic.’

‘Did you grow up in your little town in Maine, Lily?’

‘Yeah, I sure did,’ she said.

‘And what do you do back in Rockland?’ Daniel asked.

Was he flirting with her? Really, she didn’t care if he was or not. She’d no interest in him, but it was good to talk to someone who didn’t know her sad story. ‘I lobster fish,’ Lily said. ‘Been doing that my whole life.’

‘For real?’ Daniel said, looking impressed.

‘Yeah, I’m the only woman who does it in our town. It’s mostly the guys, but I always loved going out with my dad, so I just carried on from there.’

‘Cool,’ Daniel said, ordering them more pints. ‘I have to say, I do love crustaceans.’

Lily raised her eyebrows. Was he trying to be funny? ‘What about you?’

Daniel shrugged. ‘I work on the family farm.’

‘What kind of farm is it?’

‘It’s a pig farm,’ Daniel said, looking a bit rueful.

‘Oh,’ Lily said. She’d never liked eating pork, and found the idea of a pig farm rather unpleasant.

‘But, Lily, I’m not a pig farmer in my heart,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll have you know, I used to be in a band.’

‘What did you play?’

‘I was the lead singer,’ Daniel said. ‘And you know, we were quite good, back in the day.’

The hurling game ended. As Daniel had predicted, Sligo had lost. As the bar began to empty out, Daniel’s brother came over to join them.

‘Hey, this is Lily, Sean,’ Daniel introduced her. ‘Lily is from Maine.’

Sean gave her a distinctly unfriendly look, before turning to his brother. ‘Come on, Daniel, we’ve to be up early tomorrow morning.’

‘Ah, you go on, Sean, I’ll be up shortly.’

Sean frowned. ‘Don’t drive, will you?’

‘No, sir.’ Daniel gave a mock salute. ‘I shall get Jimmy, our local taxi driver, to chariot me home.’