Saving Christmas in the Little Irish Village (The Little Irish Village #5)

Chapter 23

23

Nora Kelly was alone at the kitchen table, scanning a recipe book when the back door was unexpectedly flung open. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, would you look at the state of you standing there shivering like so.’ She shook her head at seeing her daughter backlit by the pouring rain in the doorway. ‘You look like that old comic-book monster Swamp Thing emerged from the deep.’

‘Charming.’ Hannah heard the crunch of gravel as Freya, who’d dropped her home, drove away, and shut the door. They’d decided there was no point hanging about an empty field getting battered by the wind and rain. Once the mystery woman had driven off, no one was left to pay attention to what they were protesting against. Then Mam had texted to say Nan was toasting her toes by the fire and seemed none the worse for having taken a tumble, and Hannah decided she wouldn’t mind them clearing out. So they’d picked up their empty cups and sought sanctuary in the car.

As they’d trooped across the sodden field, she’d felt that same prickling on the back of her neck she’d experienced earlier and risked a glance behind her. There was nothing there except for the murky shape of the cottage. Freya didn’t seem to have picked up on anything, so she didn’t mention the unnerving sensation on the short drive back to the Shamrock, listening to Freya say she couldn’t wait to sink into a hot bath. As they pulled up behind the pub, she’d assured Hannah there would be no more tears over Oisin.

Now, running on automatic pilot, Hannah shed her sodden coat, sure she’d never been so cold in all her days. Or hungry, for that matter. What with how her day had unfolded one way and another, there’d been no opportunity for lunch. So, feeling like a poor, frozen waif, she paused to sniff the air hopefully, but there were no tantalising clues as to what dinner was, only the recipe book in front of Mam. It was very disappointing that all she could smell was the faint whiff of bacon from the morning’s fry-up. Breakfast felt like a lifetime ago, given everything that had happened since.

After hanging her coat on the back-door hook, she bent down to untie her bootlaces.

‘I’ll make you an omelette,’ Nora said, as if she’d read her daughter’s mind. ‘Now, get up those stairs and out of those wet things,’ she ordered. ‘I can hear your teeth chattering from here. An Irish whiskey and an omelette in that order will sort you out.’

Both sounded like pure bliss, Hannah thought, even if it did seem an odd combination. She held back, unsure whether to tell her mam who she’d seen.

‘What is it?’ Nora studied her daughter’s face with a frown.

Worry saw it come out in a big blurt. ‘Freya and I saw your mystery American woman. It was after everyone else had gone. Mam, she was watching us from the lane, and when I approached her, she got in her car and drove away. Do you really have no idea who she is?’

‘I wish I knew.’

Hannah stood dripping on the kitchen floor, and Nora blinked, registering the state of her daughter. ‘But standing there catching your death isn’t going to tell us who she is or what she wants. Upstairs. Now.’

Fifteen minutes later, warmed through to her core, smelling sweet and dressed in fresh clothes, Hannah felt like a new woman altogether. Hot water was restorative, and with that thought in mind, she padded back down the stairs. Not much had changed when she’d been gone, but true to her word, Mam had a cup of the special coffee waiting with a tempting blob of whipped cream floating on top and a sprinkle of cinnamon to make it look pretty. Hannah pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘This will hit the spot, Mam, thanks.’

‘There’s a healthy shot of Bushmills finest in there to ward off any chills,’ Nora stated, cracking eggs in a bowl.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Your dad and nan are through there.’ Nora used the fork she was about to whip the eggs with to point to the connecting door to the pub. ‘Kitty’s rallying up the masses. She’s been getting signatures for that petition of yours. She’s like a queen holding court, so she is.’ Nora hesitated then added, ‘Don’t tell her about seeing your American woman today, Hannah love. We could be reading something into nothing, and she’s had enough excitement for one day.’

Hannah met her mam’s stare and could tell she didn’t believe they were making a mountain out of a molehill. But fair play – nothing could be gained in winding Nan up over having seen her.

‘What about our guest?’ Hannah moved the conversation on before taking a pensive sip of her coffee and glancing about as though expecting to find Tom lurking in the corner. Then, as the hot liquid hit the back of her throat, making her cough, she put the cup down with a ‘Jaysus, Mam, it’s more than a shot you’ve put in here. My eyes are watering, so they are.’

‘It’ll put hairs on your chest.’

‘Grand. Look forward to it.’

‘Tom’s gone back to Dublin,’ Nora answered her question, fetching the cheese grater.

That surprised Hannah, and she sat up a little straighter. Had their protest sent him back to the Big Smoke with his tail between his legs? The tug of disappointment that victory might have been won so easily, with Tom perhaps talking his client into looking for land elsewhere, surprised her. She’d thought he was made of stronger stuff than that, given the way he’d debated with her in the kitchen that morning.

‘He’d an emergency to deal with at home,’ Nora continued.

An emergency could mean anything. Still, she’d run with a burst pipe in that swanky apartment of his. It was preferable to worrying about something happening to the young lad he mentored. Tom having hightailed it back to Dublin was a mixed blessing, she decided, unable to stop herself from asking, ‘Is he coming back to Emerald Bay?’

‘Tuesday lunchtime, although, for your information, that’s only because I persuaded him to stay here. After today’s protest, he was dead set on checking out and booking elsewhere because he didn’t want to make you and Kitty uncomfortable in your own home. But I managed to talk him out of it.’

‘Thanks a million, Mam.’ So he hadn’t folded and got his mystery client to back off.

‘Listen, Hannah. You and Kitty might have taken against Tom, but I think he’s a lovely fella who’s just here to do a job. And even if I agreed with you, which I don’t, we need the money. In case you haven’t noticed, Christmas is nearly here, and every penny counts.’ Nora began grating cheese on top of the egg mix, her back turned to Hannah as she said, ‘Still waters run deep with that young man, and you’d do well to soften those black-and-white compartments of yours that you’re so determined people slot into. Have a little Christmas spirit, for goodness’ sake, Hannah!’

There was a sharp intake of breath as though Nora had more to say but she only banged the grater down on the worktop instead.

‘What, Mam?’ Hannah demanded. She was ready to bite back because she’d no wish to know what lay beneath Tom’s surface after today. Be it still waters or raging rapids. And her mam’s words about her seeing things in black and white stung. She didn’t have much room for shades of grey in her life, and Christmas spirit, well, that was hard to muster under the circumstances. Mam didn’t understand, and silently, huffing, she took a big mouthful of her coffee, which had plenty of spirit in it, not bothering to wipe away the cream moustache left behind.

Nora’s tone softened. ‘I’ve sensed Tom’s enjoying staying here, mucking in as part of the family, even if a certain someone not too far from where I’m sitting has been determined to make him feel unwelcome. You don’t seem to have put him off in the least thankfully. Although to be fair, he’s hardly spoiled for choice regarding places to stay in these parts.’

That was true, Hannah thought, her hackles slowly dropping. You’d not get a fry-up like what was on offer at the Shamrock elsewhere in the area, and certainly not at the closest B&B. The tight-fisted woman running that only offered a continental breakfast. There were a few places to choose from in Kilticaneel, but it was a drive from the abandoned farm and, distance aside, none were as warm and welcoming as the Shamrock Inn, herself and Nan not included. Besides, it was better to keep your enemies close, Hannah thought, suddenly sick to death of talking about Tom Flynn.

She heard the sizzle as her mam poured the omelette mix into the pan and pulled out her phone. Her head hurting from all that had happened and the need to get it off her chest, she tapped out a summons to the Kelly girls’ WhatsApp group.

I’m calling an URGENT meeting, sisters, my bedroom ASAP.