Breakfast at Darcy's (33 page)

‘So,’ I ask, as I begin gathering the tea things, ‘what are your plans now you’re here, Eileen?’ I couldn’t fail to notice
the lack of luggage on the boat as it pulled up in the harbour. There had been a few bags, but not in the sort of quantities
that a woman like Eileen would travel with – and I should know.

‘Oh, just to enjoy this beautiful weather, darling,’ Eileen peers out of my kitchen window at the bay down below. ‘What lovely
views you have from here.’

‘Yes, they are quite special,’ I agree. ‘Sometimes you can see dolphins down in the bay, too.’

‘Oh, do they do any tricks?’ Eileen turns back to face me. ‘We once went to this fantastic sea-life show when we were staying
at our villa in Portugal. The chap had the dolphins jumping through hoops and balancing balls on their noses, it was quite
a sight.’

‘Yes, I can imagine,’ I nod. ‘But no, these aren’t performing dolphins, they’re wild ones.’

‘Oh,’ Eileen looks disappointed. ‘Oh well, never mind. You can’t have everything.’

Conor grimaces behind Eileen’s back and pretends to balance a ball on the end of his nose. To stop myself laughing, I turn
away and busy myself for a moment, making the tea.

‘So, Eileen, Megan seems like a lovely young girl.’ Conor makes polite conversation.

‘Yes, she is.’ Eileen inspects the sofa before sitting down, and then only perches on the very edge. ‘When she wants to be.’

‘Knows her own mind, does she?’ Conor sits down next to her. ‘She seems spirited.’

‘Spirited,’ Eileen rolls her eyes. ‘You might call it that. Megan thinks she knows her own mind all right, but she doesn’t
seem to accept that occasionally I might know what’s best for her.’

Conor and I exchange glances.

‘Milk, Eileen?’ I ask politely, hovering a milk carton over the top of her mug.

Eileen eyes the carton disdainfully, and suddenly I find myself wishing I owned a china tea service. ‘Is it skimmed?’ she
enquires. ‘Oh, good,’ she says with great relief when I nod. ‘No, no sugar!’ she waves frantically at me when I reach for
the packet on the counter. ‘I always carry my own sweeteners in case of emergencies.’ She reaches for her bag and produces
a pack of Canderel.

I carry Eileen’s tea across to her and she takes the mug from me as though I’ve passed her a dumbbell. ‘Well, this will certainly
last me a good while,’ she says, peering into the mug.

‘You were saying, Eileen, about Megan?’ I prompt, keen to hear more about Dermot’s daughter. So far I only feel sorry for
poor Megan, having to live with a mother like Eileen.

‘Oh, yes,’ Eileen is keen to continue with her moaning. ‘For instance, when I said we were moving back to Ireland for a while,
she made such a fuss and bother over it. She said it
wasn’t fair, and that I wasn’t thinking of her moving again. Of course I was thinking of her – I’m always thinking of her.
I’ve spent the last eleven years of my life doing it, and what thanks do I get?’

I feel a pull in my stomach, somewhere near where I keep my own locked box of memories. ‘Perhaps she doesn’t like change,’
I suggest. ‘Most children of that age don’t.’

‘But we all have to change, Darcy. Move on in life. We can’t keep being held back all the time by situations and people that
are … past their sell-by date, so to speak.’ Eileen’s smile is as artificially sweet as her tea.

Politely I return her smile, but I sense there’s something else. ‘So how long are you thinking of staying here with us, Eileen?
We’ve got plenty of room at the moment. There’s a lovely cottage free that would be perfect for—’

‘Oh, we’re not staying,’ Eileen looks horrified at the thought. ‘Geoffrey and I aren’t, anyway. We couldn’t possibly stay
here. I have to get back to my job. I work for a very successful cosmetics company. I’m overseeing a new concession opening
in Dublin just now, but then it’ll be back over to London. And then next month, New York … ’ She sighs. ‘It’s a very busy
lifestyle.’

I just stare at her.

‘I could leave you some free samples, if you like?’ she says, giving my face a quick once-over. ‘You can’t get too many opportunities
to buy make-up.’

A few months ago you’d have had no reason even to suggest that I needed free samples of make-up.
But I’ve got more important things to discuss with you right now than lipstick
, I think, biting my tongue.

‘You said you and Geoffrey aren’t staying – so what about Megan?’

Eileen smiles her sickly-sweet smile again. ‘My dear Darcy, that is, of course, why we’re here today. Oh, does that ex-husband
of mine still not tell anybody anything?’ She sighs dramatically. ‘We’re here today to drop Megan off so that she can spend
the six-week summer holiday getting to know her father again, here on this quaint little island of yours.’

When Dermot and Megan finally return from their exploration of the island, Geoffrey is nowhere to be seen.

‘We dumped him up on some old building,’ Megan laughs.

‘We didn’t
dump
him,’ Dermot corrects her. ‘We simply stopped for a rest for a while, and when Geoffrey nodded off in the sunshine it seemed
a shame to wake him.’

They both smile at each other, and Dermot winks at Megan.

‘Will he be able to find his way back again?’ Eileen says, beginning to fret. ‘Geoffrey’s never had much of a sense of direction.’

‘Don’t worry, Eileen, Tara isn’t that big,’ Dermot says. ‘I’m sure Geoffrey is quite capable of navigating his way back towards
you – an experienced sailor such as he is. He was telling me all about his very large yacht in the south of France, and how
the two of you met at a party in Cannes this year – and there was me, wondering just what you saw in him.’

Eileen still looks agitatedly towards the window, but giving
a quick shake of her head she turns her attention back to Dermot and Megan. ‘So,’ she says, choosing to ignore Dermot’s jibe.
‘I see the two of you have been having a fine time together.’

‘Yeah, Dad’s cool,’ Megan says matter-of-factly.

I stifle a snort of laughter. I can’t imagine Dermot’s ever been described as cool in his life. Not unless he’s mending a
fridge-freezer at the time.

‘Megan has turned into a fine young lady,’ Dermot looks proudly at his daughter. ‘She’s done well.’ The unsaid words
considering what she’s had to deal with
hang silently in the air, and I can imagine how much Dermot must be having to restrain himself not to say them.

‘Good! I’m glad you think so.’ Eileen smiles a smile that’s as genuine as her nails. ‘Then you’ll be more than happy to look
after her for the rest of the summer holidays, won’t you?’

‘What?’ Dermot’s jaw drops wide open.

‘If you don’t want me here, then that’s fine,’ Megan says, folding her arms.

‘No, it’s not that, Megan,’ Dermot says softly, squatting down so he’s more at her level. ‘It’s just come as a surprise, that’s
all. Your mother never mentioned it.’ This time there’s a harder edge to Dermot’s voice as he glares up at Eileen.

‘Oh, come now, that simply isn’t true.’ Eileen’s eyes narrow, and coupled with her long, skinny body she looks remarkably
snake-like. ‘You know I mentioned the possibility of Megan staying with you in my letters.’

‘You mentioned the possibility of a few days, not six whole weeks!’

‘Just because you choose to interpret it like that, Dermot,
doesn’t mean that’s what I meant. This is just typical of you,’ Eileen waves five red talons in Dermot’s direction. ‘You have
to have everything spelled out to you in black and white. You wouldn’t understand subtlety if it jumped up and bit you. But
then, why should you? There never was anything subtle about you, full stop.’

‘Nothing subtle about me?’ Dermot draws himself up again to match the increasing volume of his voice. ‘I’m not the one standing
there looking like Paris Hilton’s waxwork.’

I have to bite my lip to stop myself laughing at that one. But I’m quite impressed Dermot knows who Paris Hilton is.

Eileen thrusts her chin in the air. ‘This is exactly why we split up. You’ve no appreciation for anything other than what’s
in that tool box of yours.’

‘At least I appreciate the things that matter in life.’

‘Such as?’

‘People, not just possessions.’

Eileen’s eyes narrow even further. She’s about to step up for the next round, but I stop her before she can say any more.
In their anger, the warring parents haven’t noticed that Megan has begun to look upset at the verbal boxing match that’s being
fought right in front of her.

‘Look, I’m sure you two have plenty you need to say to each other and much you need to discuss,’ I find myself standing between
the pair of them, holding out my hands in an attempt both to calm them and to try and shield their words from harming Megan
further. ‘But I don’t think Megan really needs to hear this, do you?’ I turn towards her. ‘How about we go and take my dogs
out for a while? They could do with a little walk, and we could go and see if the dolphins are in the bay and then
call in on my friend Caitlin’s shop. She might have some chocolate in there, if we’re lucky.’

‘Dad and I already got sweets at the shop,’ Megan says, ‘but I’d like to take your dogs for a walk – they’re cool.’

‘Good,’ I smile, ‘Shall we go, then?’

Conor, Megan and I gather up Woody and Louis and head out of the door, leaving Dermot and Eileen to sort out their differences.

What on earth did Dermot ever see in Eileen? She didn’t seem his type at all, with her designer labels, fake tan and bright
red nails. But then what
was
Dermot’s type? I suppose Caitlin, with her vintage clothes and hippy chic.

‘Do you think I should go and hunt for this Geoffrey fellow?’ Conor asks Megan when we get outside. ‘Is he likely to get lost,
do you think?’

‘Geoffrey could get lost in a cardboard box,’ Megan says, rolling her eyes. ‘He’s not the sharpest tool. Mum’s only in it
for his money, and if he can’t see that then he deserves her.’

Conor pulls a face at me over Megan’s head. ‘Better go see if I can find him, then. Catch you again later, Megan.’
Good luck
, he mouths at me.

‘Yeah, later,’ she says, with a wave of her hand as Conor wanders away in the direction of the hill with the derelict building
on top.

‘He’s hot,’ she says, grinning at me.

‘Megan!’ I say blushing.

‘He
is
hot. You must think that, or you wouldn’t be with him.’

‘How do you know I am?’ I ask her, as we begin walking in the opposite direction towards the bay along the cliff path.

‘Dad told me.’

‘Oh.’ I wonder what else Dermot has told Megan about me?

‘Dad doesn’t like him much, though.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘I just can,’ Megan says knowingly. ‘Grown-ups think kids don’t know anything, but we do. They also think they can just pass
us about, do what they like with us and we won’t understand what’s really going on.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

Megan stops walking. ‘What do you think’s going on here, then?’ A pair of deep brown eyes that remind me very much of Dermot’s
stare piercingly up into mine. ‘Why is my mum trying to dump me here now, with my dad?’

‘I … I don’t know. Maybe she just wants you to get to know him a bit better, that’s all.’

Megan turns her face out to sea and laughs. ‘Yeah, that’d be about right – after all these years? Why so suddenly now? More
like I don’t fit into her plans this summer, with Geoffrey, and it suits her to get rid of me for a while.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true, Megan,’ I try to say in a reassuring voice. ‘I’m sure she has your best interests at heart.’

Megan turns back to look at me again. ‘If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.’ She sighs. ‘You obviously have no idea
what I’m talking about. Come on, guys,’ she calls to the dogs.

As I stand watching Megan descend effortlessly down the path onto the sand below with Woody and Louis in hot pursuit, I experience
another pull around my heart again.

Actually, Megan, I understand
just
what it’s like …

After much negotiation between Dermot and Eileen, it’s agreed that Megan will stay and that Eileen will collect her at the
end of the summer holidays. Megan seems happy to remain on Tara with her father. In fact, she settles into island life remarkably
quickly, much faster than any of us had done when we first arrived here a few months ago.

A few months ago.

I can hardly believe we’ve been on Tara for nearly four months now. It almost seems like the norm, so having Megan here is
just the tonic we need to spice things up a bit. Life has started to become a bit dull, doing the same things day in and day
out, even with new visitors arriving all the time. Megan’s bright, breezy attitude and straight-to-the-point views on life
are just what’s needed to stir things up. Everyone loves having her around – especially Paddy, who adores her. Dermot’s attitude
has completely changed: he’s been almost pleasant since she arrived, and for Dermot, that’s a huge step forward.

This afternoon, Conor and I are down on the beach with Megan while Dermot does some repairs to one of the holiday cottages.

‘Can you remember being eleven years old?’ I ask Conor, as we sit on the sand watching Megan splash energetically about in
the sea with Woody and Louis. ‘That great sense of freedom, and not knowing what was to come in your life? No ties or worries?
How wonderful would it be to go back to that way of living!’

Conor sighs and lies back with his hands behind his head. ‘Who says you need to be eleven to live like that?’ he says, stretching
himself out on the sand.

I look down at him. ‘Are you suggesting you live like that now, Conor Fitzgerald?’

‘I try my best.’

‘It’s not possible, as an adult. There are too many commitments to be made, things that tie you down all the time – like jobs
and family.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Conor opens one eye and squints up at me in the bright afternoon sunshine.

‘You’re telling me that you have absolutely no commitments, nothing that ties you to any one place or any one person?’