The Boatman's Wife(84)

‘Honey, we’ve just heard,’ her mom said, excited. ‘Tell her, Jack, tell her.’

‘The Coast Guard report came in and they’re dropping all charges!’ her dad said.

‘That’s so great, Dad,’ Lily said, relief washing through her.

‘The coastguard who interviewed your father and Ryan came to the conclusion that although your father was a little slow in turning back after the weather warnings had been transmitted, the storm itself had been unforeseen earlier in the day,’ her mom raced on. ‘Jack will get his licence back, and the insurance will come through soon, so we can get a new boat.’

‘What happened was ruled an accident,’ Lily’s dad told her.

‘I’m glad, Daddy.’

Lily paused as she and her father looked at each other. The unspoken words passing between them. They both knew the truth. Her father’s mistake had cost Connor’s life. But Lily suppressed the feelings of blame because she knew if she let them take her over they might destroy everything she had in the world.

‘Really, I couldn’t bear the thought of you going to jail,’ she said instead. ‘Connor wouldn’t have wanted that.’

‘Oh, Lily May,’ her dad said. ‘I thought I’d lost you forever.’

Lily could see the pain her father had been in ever since the accident, but she couldn’t find any more words to say. They stood for a moment in silence.

‘Come and have some lobster and corn chowder with us, Lily,’ her mom intervened. ‘It’s your special recipe.’

‘Well, I’ve a bit of a surprise,’ Lily said. ‘I brought back Connor’s grandmother, Rosemary.’

Her parents were stunned; it took them a moment to take in the information.

‘Connor’s Irish grandmother is here, in Maine?’ her mom said, astonished.

‘Yeah, she’s quite a character,’ Lily said.

‘Well, go back and get her,’ her dad said, already looking so much more like his old self.

‘Yes,’ her mom said, opening up drawers and pulling out one more place setting.

Her father followed her back down the hall to where she’d left her boots.

‘I’m so sorry, Lily,’ her daddy said to her as she was pulling them on. Lily reached out her hand to steady herself, and her dad bent down so she could put it on his shoulder.

‘I’m sorry too, Daddy,’ Lily said, straightening up.

‘I loved that boy.’ Her dad’s voice went hoarse.

‘I know, Daddy.’

The words were weighted with sadness. She felt her father beside her but for now she couldn’t give him the solace he needed. It would take time. She opened the back door and stepped outside.



They sat around the kitchen table devouring her mom’s creamy lobster and corn chowder, although as a vegan, Rosemary had politely declined. Her mom had looked at Rosemary as if she’d told her she was an alien when she’d clarified that she ate no meat, fish or dairy products.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Rosemary declared. ‘This homemade bread is just delicious with a spot of your crunchy peanut butter.’

Rosemary was certainly not what her parents had expected an Irish grandmother to be. She was the same age as them, but her spirit seemed so much younger. More in common with Lily.

This was her new family now, Lily thought, as she ladled the soup into her mouth. Blended from all the corners of her heart. She ate another spoonful of soup but suddenly started to feel a little off. It didn’t taste like normal. Too fishy and the cream thick in her mouth. She put her spoon down, her appetite gone, and stared down at the bowl of rich chowder, which suddenly made her feel incredibly nauseous. Getting up from the table, she ran upstairs to the bathroom, making it just in time before she threw up.

After spraying her face with water, she sat on the side of the bath, feeling a little bemused. The sickness had come upon her so suddenly. She closed her eyes, summoning the last time she was with Connor. She placed her finger on her lips as she remembered his touch upon them. She opened her eyes. Oh, she still felt so sick. She put her hands on her belly. It was there: a tiny vibration. Not an actual movement or sensation, but a resonance, deep inside her centre. Tears trailed down her cheeks, joy merged with sorrow.

Connor had left her one last gift.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Arizona, 3rd March 2019





Niamh had learnt how to live again in the ashram in the desert. Here, for the first time since she’d lost her baby boy, she was able to learn to forgive herself. It had been hard, and at times seemingly hopeless, but then when she’d been at her lowest, a small simple sign would lift her up again: an eagle in the sky, a desert rat burrowing in the earth, or a wildflower blooming in the desert. Nature had helped her heal. She looked at the harsh landscape of the desert surrounding her and wondered at how tough the cacti were. Able to survive against all the brutality of the sun, drawing what they could out of the parched dirt. She painted their blooms, fascinated by the rich intensity of their colours: the spikes of orange, gold and pink as they emerged from the barrel cactus. It would seem her destiny had been to leave her homeland forever and live in a place of big, star-filled night skies and endless horizons.

All these years, Bob had been her teacher. She had followed him with the devotion and the humility he shared with others. At first, all she’d wanted was to serve. Working in the ashram kitchen, cooking and cleaning. But after a while, she’d joined meditations and sharing circles. She’d begun to tell the truth about her past. What had surprised her the most was that she’d met no judgement from her fellow devotees.