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

Chapter 35

35

Hannah hadn’t moved from where she was blocking the doorway. Her mouth hung open at the sight of the woman, a splash of colour against the wet, grey day, her hair plastered to her face in dark auburn tentacles thanks to the persistent downpour.

It was like a piece of an abstract puzzle, how like her mam’s hair this stranger’s was.

The similarity between Nora Kelly and whoever this person was didn’t lie in age – she was maybe five to eight years younger than Mam – but in their features. There was something about her eyes, too, and whatever it was, it was pulling Hannah in. They were amber, and when it dawned on her that it was like looking into her own eyes, she took a step backwards, shocked.

‘What are you playing at, Hannah? Either invite whoever it is out of the rain or shut the door. It wasn’t a tent you were born in,’ Nan clucked impatiently, shaking her granddaughter from her trance. She was already setting Princess Leia down in preparation for getting out of her seat to put the kettle on and fetch the biscuits for their visitor. Whether they’d be the best biscuits or not remained to be seen.

The woman seemed unaware she was getting soaked. She stood there shivering, assessing Hannah with equal wariness. At least she was attempting a smile, Hannah thought, stepping to one side. ‘Erm, I suppose you’d better come in.’

‘Thank you.’

Her smile was grateful but tremulous and eerily similar to her mam’s, Hannah thought, keeping a watchful eye as she stepped inside, wiping her feet on the mat. She shut the door against the inclement weather then pressed her back to it as though worried this stranger who’d been trailing her mam might change her mind and make a break for it.

Kitty sank back down in her seat at the sight of their uninvited guest, seemingly twigging instantly that this was Nora’s shadow. Meanwhile, Princess Leia trotted over to sniff around the woman’s ankles, which were encased in leather boots, then, deciding she was friend, not foe, scuttled over to her basket and began grappling with her bone toy.

‘Oh, I’m making a mess, sorry,’ the woman said, glancing down at the rivulets of water sliding from the red, shiny, waterproof fabric onto the floor. ‘Perhaps if I took my coat off?’ Her words fell away.

The arrival of a stranger saw Liam put his phone down and angle himself in his seat to look over his shoulder. His mouth was already open in anticipation of a jovial greeting, but no sound came out when he saw who was dripping on their kitchen floor. He’d obviously been too engrossed in the news to pick up on her accent.

Hannah guessed he’d put two and two together, but Liam Kelly was nothing if not a gracious host even when the guest was his wife’s possible stalker, and Hannah’s brow knitted as he leaped into action, cleared his throat and said, ‘Of course.’

The woman flashed him a grateful smile, unbelting the red raincoat and slipping it off with a thank you as Liam reached for it.

Hannah refused to budge from her post and matched her father’s hard look as he made to hang the coat on the back-door hook with one of her own. He quickly gave up and hung the coat over the top of Kitty’s pinny on the connecting door to the pub instead.

‘We all seem to have forgotten our manners. I’m Liam Kelly.’ He thrust his hand out, and the woman shook it back.

‘You’re frozen, so you are! Here.’ He released her hand from his pawlike grip and pulled out a chair, ushering her into it. ‘You sit yourself down, and I’ll make a fresh pot of tea. That’ll warm you up.’

‘Dad,’ Hannah warned through gritted teeth. They didn’t know who this woman was or what she wanted, and there he was, telling her to make herself at home.

‘I’m Judy, by the way.’ Her teeth stopped chattering as she introduced herself shooting a tentative glance in Kitty’s direction and then Hannah’s.

‘Judy,’ Hannah said, trying the name on for size as her hands floated to her hips. ‘And who exactly are you, Judy, and why have you been following my mam about?’

‘Hannah!’ Liam dropped the kettle with a clatter.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Judy jumped in quickly, clasping and then unclasping her hands, which were resting on the table in front of her. ‘I do owe you all an explanation.’

‘Especially Mam.’ Hannah wasn’t backing down.

‘Yes, especially your mom. I’m afraid I haven’t handled this at all well.’ She bit her bottom lip and stared at her hands. ‘I think Nora and I are related.’

Hannah had already guessed that much. It was an obvious connection, but it didn’t explain all the cloak-and-dagger behaviour.

Her dad headed her off before she could demand further answers. ‘Hannah, you should probably fetch your mam before Judy goes any further.’ He carried the fresh pot of tea over to the table.

Judy looked like she could use something stronger than tea, and Hannah was tempted to tell Nan to take her place guarding the door as she reluctantly left her post and raced up the stairs.

The door to Room 5, which Tom had vacated earlier, was open, and she stampeded down the hall to find her mam bundling up the sheets she’d pulled off the bed, oblivious to the unfolding drama downstairs.

Nora frowned at her. ‘You’ll go through the floor thundering about like so. Slow down.’

‘Never mind that, Mam. She’s downstairs!’ Hannah tried to catch her breath. ‘The American woman who’s been following you. She says you’re related.’

Shock flickered across Nora’s face, and her lips parted as she shook her head. ‘Would you say that again, Hannah?’

‘Mam, listen!’ Hannah almost stamped her foot but knew it wouldn’t hurry things along, so trying to keep her voice calm, she relayed what she’d just said once more.

Her mam seemed to take it on board this time, but all she said was, ‘Right.’

The sheets were thrust into Hannah’s arms, then Nora smoothed her sweater and headed downstairs with her daughter, who trailed white flannelette sheets behind her, trying not to breathe in the intoxicating, musky scent Tom had left behind.

They found Judy sipping tea while Liam made small talk, and Kitty wore an expression that said she was waiting to hear more from the stranger seated at their table before passing judgment.

Judy’s hand shook as she placed her cup back in the saucer upon seeing the woman she’d been asking after and seemingly watching up close standing there. She half pushed her chair back.

Nora held her hand up. ‘Please don’t get up on my behalf. I’m Nora Kelly, but I think you already know that. What’s this Hannah’s been telling me about you being a relative of mine?’

Hannah hurriedly dumped the sheets in the machine and came to stand defensively by her mam’s side.

‘I’m Judy Carter. My maiden name’s Kedder. Hello. It’s nice to meet you at last.’ Judy hadn’t taken her eyes off Nora, nor Nora off her.

Hannah fancied she could almost hear the air between the two women crackling and took a sharp intake of air, signalling that she wished Judy would spit it out – whatever it was.

‘You do look like my late mother,’ Nora spoke up.

‘Do I?’ Judy asked softly.

Nora nodded. ‘You have the same bone structure.’

‘And I can see my late father in you.’ Judy cleared her throat and gestured to her rapidly frizzing hair. ‘Nora, I’m soaked because I stood on your doorstep out there rehearsing how I was going to say what I should have said to you last Christmas.’

‘I generally find the best way to get things off your chest is to come right out with it,’ Nora replied, her voice not giving away much.

Judy’s lips moved from side to side as though contemplating this. Then she said, ‘OK.’ She strung the word out. ‘Well, here goes. Your maternal grandfather was my father.’

Nora swayed as though slapped, and Hannah reached out to steady her. ‘I’m afraid you could have saved yourself a lot of time if you’d made yourself known to me the first time you came to Emerald Bay, Judy. You see, that’s, well, it’s simply not possible.’

She even looked like she’d been slapped, Hannah thought, keeping a firm grip on her mam’s arm.

‘My grandfather died at sea when I was young.’

Nora’s eyes glittered, but Hannah couldn’t tell if it was down to defiance or threatened tears.

Judy’s cheeks were also colouring as she shook her head. ‘No, I’m afraid he didn’t, but I think you already suspected that. William Kedder, your grandfather, my father, sailed on a cargo ship to America from Liverpool and started a new life in 1975. My mom was widowed with two nearly grown sons when they met in New York shortly after he arrived. He was fifteen years her senior, and I imagine it was a shock when Mom found out she was expecting again after so much time. They married that same year.’

What was happening here, and why wasn’t Mam shooing this woman out the door? She was mad.

‘I think you better sit down, Mam,’ Hannah said, needing an excuse to do so herself because she was flashing back to Mam, having told Ava last Christmas how a storm at sea had taken her grandfather, their great-grandfather. The remains of his fishing boat had been found, but not him.

She was running on autopilot as she steered her mam to the table and sank down beside her. When Ava had relayed this story, which was the first any of them had heard of it, to her and her wide-eyed sisters, they’d all agreed it was tragic, but Hannah suspected that, like her, they’d all felt like it was a tragedy far removed from their lives.

Nora Kelly never spoke much about her immediate family, and Hannah and her siblings had little contact with them. There were the occasional letters her brother Tiernan’s wife sent from America updating them on their lives or the excruciating FaceTime sessions Mam would drag them in on with Uncle Tiernan now and again. Then, closer to home, the four Nolan brothers, cousins of her mam’s, could frequently be found propping up the bar at the Shamrock. The brothers were a familial connection that all five sisters were reluctant to acknowledge, given they were heathens. They’d a sister, too, who used to run a guesthouse in Dublin, but they’d never met her.

‘Mam?’ Hannah wanted answers as to what was happening here.

It wasn’t her mam who spoke next, though; it was Judy.

‘This isn’t my first visit to Emerald Bay, as you already know,’ Judy told Nora, who had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of the teacup Liam had slid silently in front of her.

He was now standing by his wife’s side, his hand resting on her shoulder. Across the table, Kitty appeared to be holding her breath while Hannah’s leg jiggled under the table.

‘My husband, John, and I split our time between Dublin and the States. We have business interests across Ireland. He’s Irish, but we met in the States. And I’m sorry I didn’t make myself known to you. It was cowardly, and the only excuse I have is I think I was in shock at finding out my father was a bigamist who’d left his first family behind in Ireland.’

It was cheesy, but you could have heard a pin drop, Hannah thought, staring at Judy, not daring to interrupt because even though none of this could be true, she had to hear more.

‘How did you find out?’ Nora rasped, her face bleached of colour.

Judy licked her lips. ‘Dad never spoke about his life in Ireland. I assumed he’d had a hard time here because Mom told me once not to push him on the subject, so I left it alone. He died in 2005 when I was thirty-two.’

‘He lived into his mid-eighties then,’ Nora murmured, working things out. ‘My mother and I weren’t on speaking terms, but she died a few years back. Mam was seventy-five. She never spoke about her father after he disappeared because there were rumours.’

Hannah rubbed her temples. It was too much.

Judy replied, ‘I lost my mother two years ago. When I was sorting her things, I found my father’s passport and decided I wanted to learn more about my Irish roots for my children as much as for myself. That was when I began digging. I didn’t have to dig too deep, to be frank.’ She delved into her purse and produced an envelope. ‘I’ve some photographs and documentation here if you’d like to see them.’

‘Please.’ Nora took the envelope.

There was still a chance Judy had got her wires badly crossed somewhere along the way, Hannah thought as Nora pulled a Polaroid out. She leaned in to see it for herself. A fortyish woman was leaning into a grizzled man, while off to the left, a young girl dressed in T-bar sandals, knee-high socks and a tunic dress was smiling shyly. They were standing outside a simple clapboard house. It was a snapshot in time, like looking at a picture from a seventies magazine, because these people meant nothing to her, but seeing the tear trickling down her mam’s cheeks, it was clear something had resonated with her.

‘It’s him, my daideo,’ she said, looking up through watery lashes at Liam.

Hannah had read about thunderbolt moments, but she’d never experienced one until now. The realisation that had just hit her took her breath away. Tom had inadvertently dropped that his client was a woman, and a snippet of conversation raced through her head.

‘How do you know my benefactor’s not connected with the land?’

My God, Hannah thought. Was Judy Carter behind the Greenhouse project? Hadn’t she said she and her husband had business interests across Ireland? Or was she connecting dots that weren’t there?