Secrets of the Lighthouse (19 page)

Daphne likes Peg, I can tell. She has been looking after her son and his children for five years now and every time she comes down to Connemara she has no one but her family to talk to. She is
grateful now for the company, but more than that, she feels she can confide in Peg. I could tell her that she is right to unburden her heart to this woman who has suffered too. Peg might not be of
the same social class as Daphne and is certainly much less worldly, but Daphne is not a person to judge by such superficial things. I might have found her interfering in life, but in death I can
appreciate that she is above all a decent human being with a kind heart. Peg no longer looks over at her niece and as far as Ellen and Conor are concerned, they might just as well be on their own
for all the flirting and banter.

Ida is delighted by her sparkly nails. Ellen is certainly creative. She has cut the little pieces of glittery paper into tiny hearts and stars and placed them on Ida’s small nails,
painting over them with pale-pink polish. The effect is magical and Ida skips off to show her grandmother. Daphne and Peg admire her fingers with much oohing and aahing, like a pair of pigeons,
then Ida runs off to show her brother, who is watching television and will certainly not care.

This time, when Conor asks Ellen about herself he is genuinely interested, as if everything she says is fascinating, and he gazes deeply into her eyes in that intense way of his that few women
can resist. Ellen gazes back, her cheeks pink with pleasure, and I know that she is basking in his attention just like I basked when he first set his sights on me. They finish their cups of tea and
Conor announces that he is going to take Magnum out and show Ellen the gardens, as if there is anything to see in February but bare trees and empty flower beds! Peg and Daphne remain by the fire,
anxious not to be interrupted.

Ellen is still wary of the big dog and watches uneasily as Conor fetches him from the kitchen. Excited to be out, Magnum cocks his leg on the yew hedge before bounding off onto the lawn. They
amble over the grass and Ellen admires the bird feeder where finches and robins and flurries of blue tits squabble for seed. The light sound of courting birds fills the air and on the ground
snowdrops gather in clusters like patches of snow yet to be burnt away by the sun. Fresh buds are beginning to emerge through the hardened bark and little green shoots can be seen pushing their way
up through the soil. The air vibrates with the promise of spring and this seems to invigorate Conor and Ellen as they wander happily through the apple trees, yet to blossom.

After a while they stray from the garden, away from Daphne, Peg and the children. They stroll into the wild so that they can be totally alone. Conor takes her to the Billy Goats’ bridge
and they lean on the stone balustrade and watch the stream trickle beneath it. My fury rises. I feel as if they are trespassing on my territory. That forgotten place is a small slice of heaven set
mistakenly on the earth. It is a between place where I can go and contemplate what is surely to come when I am able to move on at last. I feel strongly that they shouldn’t be here, not
together, not with their attraction building around them in waves of mounting energy. It is an affront to my memory.

I rage and thrash about in my silent world. The injustice of his behaviour drives me mad. Doesn’t he know that I chose him and the children over heaven? Doesn’t he realize what I
sacrificed so that I could remain close to him? They talk for a long time, in this magical place among the dancing orbs of sunlight that look like fairies. The stream trickles beneath them and how
I wish there was a troll down there to swallow them whole.

Ellen leaned on the bridge and turned her face to Conor’s. His eyes were heavy, the look in them intense, and she knew then that he was going to kiss her. She
didn’t have time to think, but even if she had she wouldn’t have moved, or broken the moment with weak excuses. The reckless part of her
wanted
him to kiss her, while the more
cautious part was silenced by desire.

Conor needed no invitation. He wound his hand beneath her hair and pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and let him kiss her deeply. His beard was soft against her skin, his mouth warm
and passionate, and for that long while she existed in the moment, aware only of the ripples of pleasure coursing through her body.

‘You’re very adorable, Ellen,’ he whispered, pulling away and slowly curling a tendril of hair behind her ear.

She felt her face flush. ‘This is all very sudden, I don’t usually—’

But he cut her off. ‘You don’t usually let strange men kiss you on bridges?’

‘Not really, no.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it. If it makes you feel better, I still respect you.’ There was a twinkle in his eye and Ellen realized he was teasing her. She laughed, feeling
foolish. But how could she explain that everyone had warned her against him? That they’d told her to be careful? What did they think he was going to do?

He traced his fingers down her cheek, his blue eyes taking in her face as if seeing it in a different light. He didn’t look like the kind of man who could kill his wife. ‘I’m
glad you got lost on the hills and found your way to me,’ he said quietly.

‘So am I,’ she replied, as her stomach responded to the tenderness in his tone with a little flip. He grinned and, lifting her chin, kissed her again, this time more ardently, and
she felt as if his very presence was wrapping itself around her and lifting her off the ground.

They set off up the river hand in hand, trudging over the damp heather and long grasses to the sonorous sound of trickling water. They talked and laughed and every now and then Conor swung her
around and caught her in a bear hug, to kiss her again. ‘I don’t want this moment to end,’ he said, pressing his lips to hers so that she was unable to reply. But he knew from the
way she wound her arms around his waist that she didn’t want it to end, either. Soon, however, the light began to fade and the air grew cold and they reluctantly headed for home.

Peg and Daphne were still in the drawing room when they arrived back at the house. They had barely noticed how long Conor and Ellen had been away. Daphne was telling Peg about her life and had
another forty years to go. Ida and Finbar were in the playroom. Finbar was now engrossed in a football game on his iPad, while Ida had taken Ellen’s nail polish and was busy painting the hand
of a doll she had tossed into the back of the toy cupboard years before.

Conor stole another kiss in the porch before coming in to make tea. ‘Your cheeks are cold,’ he whispered, gently rubbing them with his thumbs.

‘Your beard would warm them up,’ she grinned, eyes sparkling with the excitement of a schoolgirl flouting the rules.

‘Give me time and I’d warm you up all over.’

‘We’d better go in. What if your mother or Aunt Peg sees us like this?’

‘Now that would be entertaining. I don’t know who’d be more shocked, your aunt or my mother?’

They took off their coats in the hall and wandered into the kitchen. Conor called for Meg, but the kitchen was quiet except for Magnum’s loud lapping at his water bowl.
Ellen leaned against the sideboard and looked out of the window at the darkening garden. She sensed the afternoon draining away and was suddenly gripped by the hopeless desire to stop the sand
running out of the hourglass. How long before he bolted back to Dublin? Conor switched on the kettle. When he looked up he caught her troubled profile. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ he
asked.

‘Oh, I’m very booked up,’ she replied, turning away from the dusk. ‘I have a date with a donkey and a llama.’

‘And then?’

She sighed melodramatically. ‘Chickens and a pig.’

He reached across her to unhook a couple of mugs. ‘And then?’ His face was so close that her heart began to accelerate at the danger of being caught.

‘And then, I might find time for you,’ she whispered, edging away.

He smiled, pleased, and walked back to the kettle. ‘So, let’s spend the day together. What do you think? We’ll take a drive and I’ll show you more of Ireland. I know a
nice pub where we can have lunch, without the eyes of your family upon us.’

‘It’s hard to get away from my family in Ballymaldoon.’

‘Where there’s a will there’s a way.’ He grinned at her mischievously and she smiled back. ‘So, tell me, what do you like to do?’

She shrugged. ‘Oh, lots of things.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I love to walk on deserted beaches. I love to explore ruined castles.’

‘Ireland has plenty of those.’

‘I love to be outside, in nature.’

He looked at her for a long moment. ‘So do I. That’s why I bought Ballymaldoon Castle in the first place. I wanted to be in the hills, surrounded by beauty and tranquillity. I work
in the city but the countryside draws me and every time I come I realize how much I’ve missed it.’

‘I like a simple life, Conor. If you’d asked me a couple of weeks ago my answer would have been very different.’

‘What changed?’

‘Coming here and standing back. I gained perspective. I don’t want the life I had before.’

He poured boiling water into the teapot. At that moment, Ida and Finbar came running into the kitchen. ‘Will you paint my toes?’ Ida asked Ellen.

Ellen laughed at the child’s enthusiasm. ‘If you’re allowed to have sparkly toenails as well, of course I will.’

‘Can I, Daddy?’ she pleaded, clamping her hands together as if in prayer.

‘I don’t see why not. But another time, sweetheart. Ellen’s enjoying grown-up time now.’

‘Can I have a snack?’ Finbar asked.

Conor looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly six o’clock. ‘Go and ask Grandma,’ he said, but Finbar didn’t listen and lifted the biscuit jar down from the island
in the middle of the room and pulled off the lid. He thrust his hand in and extracted a chocolate Hobnob, then grinned triumphantly at Ellen.

They made their way to the drawing room, where Daphne was still talking to Peg, settled into the armchair and sofa by the fire. Ida skipped ahead and asked her grandmother to make her something
to eat. Peg glanced at her watch. ‘Well, would you look at the time? The afternoon has flown by. Ellen and I must be going.’ She pushed herself up from the sofa, suddenly flustered with
embarrassment. ‘I hope we haven’t outstayed our welcome.’

‘Not at all,’ said Daphne truthfully. She had never had such a rapt audience for her stories. ‘You must come again. We have few local friends. It would be nice to have adult
company from time to time. When we’re down here I’m always with the children. You’ve been a breath of fresh air, Peg.’

‘Oh, you’ve made a fresh pot of tea,’ said Peg, noticing Conor standing in the doorway with the tray.

‘It would be a shame to waste it, don’t you think?’ said Daphne. ‘Why don’t you stay a little longer? Then I’ll make the children their supper. They can last
another fifteen minutes or so.’

Peg raised her eyebrows at her niece, then, noticing the girl’s flushed cheeks, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Well, what do you think, Ellen? We don’t want to take up
any more of their time.’

‘We’ve got nothing else to do,’ said Conor and he placed the tray on the coffee table, putting an end to the debate.

Ellen sat on the sofa and Peg flopped back down too. Conor tossed a log onto the fire, then took the other armchair and languidly stretched out his long legs. Daphne sank back into the cushions
already flattened to her shape and they all drank more tea. Peg helped herself to a couple of the biscuits that Conor had put on a plate and it wasn’t long before Finbar had stolen a few of
those, too. He then lay on the floor to eat them with Magnum, who was now spread out on the carpet like a lazy lion. Ida played with the sparkly shapes and baubles Ellen had left on the card table,
humming softly to herself.

It was a cosy scene, bathed in the golden light of the lamps. The air was warm and smelt of wood smoke from the fire that crackled merrily in the grate. Daphne had closed the curtains, which
were a pale-yellow colour to match the walls, and lit a scented candle, so that the room seemed to shimmer with an other-worldly glow. They chatted like old family friends and only Conor and Ellen
felt the current of attraction that ran between them, building all the time. They exchanged knowing glances and their secret made an island out of them, drawing them ever closer in their
isolation.

‘Well, that was a very pleasant afternoon,’ said Peg as she drove the car back down the narrow lanes towards home. ‘I have to tell you, I wasn’t at all
happy about going, considering what I know about Mr Macausland, I mean Conor, but he was very charming and so was his mother.’

Ellen gazed out of the window. She could still feel his beard against her face. She ran her fingers across her lips dreamily. ‘I don’t want to say I told you so, but . . .’

Peg laughed. ‘Light me a cigarette, will you, pet? I noticed there weren’t any ashtrays in the house. I don’t suppose they smoke, do you?’

Ellen rummaged around in Peg’s bag and took out her packet of Rothmans. ‘I think you’re right. Well, it
is
a nasty habit. I’m going to give up right now,’
she declared.

‘I’ll quit one day, but not now.’ Ellen lit one for her aunt with the car lighter. ‘So, you’re really going to stop? Just like that?’ Peg asked, surprised.
‘I thought you said you had to have a very good reason to give up.’

‘I do have a good reason – the fresh country air. I want to taste it.’ Ellen turned to face the window. It was now dark and all she could see was her own reflection, staring
back at her abstractedly, and the stars in her eyes.

‘Daphne told me the most interesting things,’ said Peg.

‘Was she very indiscreet?’

‘Oh, yes, terribly.’

‘So, what did she say?’

Peg rolled down her window to let out the smoke. ‘Well, you know ever since Caitlin died Conor hasn’t made a single film. He’s uninspired, that’s the problem. She said
that they had a tumultuous relationship right from the beginning and that Caitlin let him down. She didn’t say how, but she raised her eyebrows suggesting that Caitlin did something very
wrong. I couldn’t ask what it was, but it obviously knocked the wind out of Conor. She said that people are wrong about him and that because Caitlin was so beautiful people always assumed she
was an angel, but she wasn’t. Daphne said she was a very needy and possessive woman, not an angel at all. Men don’t like neediness, or perhaps they like it at the beginning when they
are in love, but it loses its charm after a while and becomes irritating. She was jealous of Daphne’s closeness to her son and jealous of his friends; she even tried to make him get rid of
his dog. Can you imagine being that insecure?’