The Boatman's Wife(83)

‘Hey,’ he said to her. ‘I can help you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Niamh asked, stirring her Bloody Mary with the celery stick before taking a crunching bite.

‘You can always make up for your past, if you dedicate your life to universal good now,’ Bob suggested. His eyes were bright blue, like Brendan’s, and had a spark in them like a child’s, despite his age.



The next day, Niamh packed in her job. She stood outside the resort with her one rucksack slung on her back, and her tote bag of painting things, waiting for Bob to pick her up. She was a little wary of what she’d agreed to, but it couldn’t be any worse than how life had been so far. Bob trundled up in his pickup a few minutes later, looking like an Arizona cowboy. But he was far from the tradition of the Wild West. As they drove out of Sedona city limits and into the desert, giant saguaro cacti marking their route, Bob filled Niamh in on his story.

‘Was most of my twenties in India,’ he told Niamh. ‘Thought I’d spend the rest of my life there.’

Niamh glanced across at his weathered face, wondering how long ago that must have been.

‘But my guru told me I needed to come back home. Start my own ashram here in Arizona.’ His voice was gentle, like a balm, and as Niamh listened to Bob speak, she felt a sense of calm she’d never experienced before.

‘You’re not alone, Niamh,’ he said, as they drove through the desert. The road was a straight line through red earth, blue sky and vast emptiness. ‘There are others like you,’ Bob said to her. ‘Seeking forgiveness and faith, looking for a reason to live.’





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Rockland, Maine, 22nd November 2017





Lily had thought about asking her parents to collect her and Rosemary from Logan Airport, but in the end, she decided they’d take the bus. Rosemary was excited to look out the window at all the little New England towns and snow-laden houses.

‘My, your snow is so thick!’ she kept remarking every time they passed a dug-out pile of snow like a tiny hill of crystals.

From the bus stop in Rockland, they took a taxi to Lily’s house. She had been nervous about walking in the door again after being away, but it was easier with Rosemary by her side. The older woman was interested in every little detail she showed her, so Lily could focus on looking after Rosemary rather than her own tumult of emotions.

‘So where did Connor like to sit?’ Rosemary asked her, pointing at the chairs.

‘That one’s his,’ Lily said, indicating the soft green armchair by the fireplace.

‘Can I?’ Rosemary asked.

‘Of course.’

Rosemary sat down in the armchair with her hands on the rests and closed her eyes. Lily saw the emotions pass over her face: loss, sadness, but happy memories, too.

‘That felt good,’ Rosemary said when she opened her eyes again.

Lily left Rosemary at her house while she headed across the lawn to her parents’. The snow was pristine and untouched between the two houses, although someone had shovelled the driveway clear in front of her home. Most likely her dad. Lily could feel her mom’s eyes on her as she made her way across. The sun was beginning to set, the snow taking on tones of dreamy blue. Rockland had never looked so quaint, with smoke spiralling out of chimneys, and icicles fringing the roof of her parents’ house.

Rather than go in the back way, Lily made her way around to the front of the house. Before she went inside, she took a moment to look down at the bay. Stretches of broken ice edged the coastline, the trees laden with the weight of white snow. The winter had been the season she’d loved with Connor. Snuggling in for the coldest months, when they were able to take pause together, before readying for the spring fishing season, and the busy summer and fall weeks for both of them. Winter had always begun with her birthday on the first day of December, the beginning of advent and the build-up to Christmas. Memories of Connor slammed back into her consciousness, making her feel breathless. His loss still felt so raw, despite her trip to Ireland. And yet, there was a slight easing of her despair. A gift had come her way in his loss. Rosemary, his grandmother.

For now, though, she needed make things right with her parents. There was still a part of her which hurt at what her dad had done and her Mom not supporting her over him. She turned as the front door flung open and her mom waved for her to come in. She’d lost weight on her face, but she looked happy. They hugged on the doorstep, then Lily followed her mom into the hall and tugged off her snowy boots.

Lily’s daddy was standing in the doorway of the living room, holding on to the door frame. There were big black shadows under his eyes, and the texture of his weather-beaten skin was even more lined than she remembered.

‘Oh Lily, it’s so good to see you,’ her dad said, shifting nervously.

‘You too, Daddy,’ Lily said. Despite everything her heart lurched at the sight of her broken father. She went straight over and put her arms around him. She felt the tension in his body release as he hugged her back.

‘We missed you so much, honey,’ her mom said.

‘I missed you too, Mom,’ Lily said back. She looked at her mom, knowing a part of her would always struggle to understand why she had sided with Lily’s dad over her daughter’s feelings – but what was the point of breaking up her family with resentments and recriminations? The regret she’d witnessed in Rosemary’s tale of loss was enough to warn her to let go and try to understand her mom.