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Authors: Santa Montefiore

BOOK: Secrets of the Lighthouse
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‘Gosh, Daphne didn’t hold back, did she?’

‘I think she was longing to get it all off her chest and I’m not one of her circle so it doesn’t really matter, does it?’

‘I’m sure Conor would have hated to hear her being so indiscreet.’

‘I’m sure he would, but there was no stopping her. I barely got a word in. I think she’s fed up of the whole business. She must know what people are saying. She probably
relished the opportunity to defend her son.’

‘She knows you’ll go back and tell everyone.’

‘Well, she’s not wrong. Though, it would take a lot more than Daphne’s word to convince Johnny, Joe and Ronan that Caitlin was no angel.’

‘What’s her story?’ Ellen asked.

‘She came from a middle-class family in Galway. But she was never a city girl. She had dreams of being an actress, but Daphne said she’d never have made it past Dublin because she
was timid and insecure and afraid of the big wide world. You know, in all the time they were married, she never went abroad. Isn’t that a funny thing in this day and age? With all that money,
because Conor is very successful, she could have gone anywhere she wanted and yet she chose to stay here in Connemara. I bet Conor fell in love with her and married her very quickly, then
discovered what she was really like. Daphne didn’t say as much, but reading between the lines, I suspect that’s what happened. She said Conor tried very hard to make her happy. He
really loved her but it wasn’t enough. She was insatiable, apparently. Daphne said she always had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she wasn’t the full shilling, if you know what I
mean. She was vague and whimsical. I must say Conor looks like he’s been through hell, doesn’t he? He looks terrible.’

Ellen was quick to defend him. ‘Oh, I thought he looked handsome.’

‘If you like your men wild and rugged.’

Ellen smiled and turned to the window to hide her scarlet cheeks. ‘He’s romantic-looking.’

‘What did you two get up to on your walk?’

‘He showed me the most beautiful place. There was a stream and an old stone bridge. Once, there was a track going through it, but now it’s all grown over and only the bridge remains.
It’s very romantic.’

‘Don’t you go falling in love, now, will you? He’s very handsome altogether, but he’s a complicated man with a complicated history. I’d leave it all well alone if I
were you.’

Ellen didn’t have the heart to lie to Peg. She felt her aunt deserved better than that. So she said nothing. Instead, they talked about the children and how pretty the house was and they
both wondered why Conor had closed down the castle and left only Caitlin’s portrait hanging in the hall. ‘Maybe he’ll put it away one day when he’s at last able to move
on,’ Peg suggested. ‘Or perhaps he’ll never move on. I imagine, deep down he still loves her and feels desperately guilty that he didn’t do more for her. I think he chooses
to stay in Ballymaldoon because he wants to remain close to her and maybe he keeps the picture up there on the wall for the same reason. I don’t think there’s a mystery at all.
It’s very simple; he wants to remain close to her. I understand that.’

Ellen felt her aunt was speaking more about herself than about Conor. She wanted to ask her about her little girl, but Peg’s profile looked so rigid she feared her questions would be
unwelcome. She wondered whether her aunt would notice that the votive candle had gone out on her bedside table. She would like to have told her, but she didn’t want to admit that she had been
snooping. Instead, she knitted her fingers on her lap and watched the road ahead, illuminated by the headlamps.

When they arrived back at the house, Johnny’s truck was parked outside, next to Desmond’s. ‘Well, would you look at that? We’ve got an audience,’ said Peg, pulling
up beside them.

‘They want to know how it went.’

‘They most certainly do.’ Peg switched off the engine and climbed out with a groan. She never complained about her aching bones, but Ellen noticed she walked with a slight limp, and
getting up and out of chairs seemed uncomfortable. ‘Well, they’ve let themselves in so I suppose we have no choice but to join the party. Really, they do take liberties!’ But it
was clear from the small smile creeping across her face that she was pleased they had come.

Ellen wished she could go directly to her bedroom and shut the door so that she could lie on her bed and replay the moment Conor had kissed her. She still had butterflies in her stomach. The
gentle tugging on her conscience went unnoticed, however, because right now Conor had eclipsed William like a big, beautiful moon.

As soon as they heard the kitchen door open the room fell silent. Peg strode in to find Joe and Johnny, Desmond and Alanna sitting at the table with Oswald. She bent down to pat Mr Badger,
keeping them all in suspense for a long moment. ‘Hello there, old friend,’ she said as the dog wagged his tail and nuzzled her with his wet nose.

‘So, are you going to tell us or not?’ Desmond growled. Ellen stepped in behind her aunt and grinned at Joe, who raised his eyebrows suggestively.

‘I might. But first, I need a wee Jameson.’ She went to the sideboard and reached for a glass in the cupboard above. ‘I hope you helped yourself to wine,’ she said to
Oswald.

‘Oh, yes, Peg, it’s perfectly warmed, straight from the Stanley,’ he replied with a smile.

‘So, you’re all making yourselves at home, I see,’ she said, glancing at the table and the cups of tea and plates of biscuits and cake.

‘We thought we’d come and surprise you, Peggine,’ said Joe.

‘No, you didn’t,’ Peg retorted, pouring the whiskey into the glass. ‘You came to hear the gossip. I know you. And it isn’t at all surprising!’

‘Dad and I brought cake,’ Joe added.

‘Jack likes cake,’ said Peg.

‘Was the little girl happy with her nails?’ Alanna asked Ellen.

‘She was thrilled,’ Ellen replied, standing awkwardly by the door.

‘Well, don’t stand in the doorway. Come and sit down and tell us all about it,’ said Joe, patting the bench beside him. ‘ We won’t bite you.’

‘It’s not your bite I’m concerned about, Joe,’ Ellen answered back. ‘It’s your irresistible charm!’

Joe laughed. Johnny shook his head. ‘Irresistible charm!’ he scoffed. ‘The boy’s pleased enough with himself already.’ Ellen climbed in behind the table to sit next
to Joe.

‘So, what’s the house like?’ Alanna asked.

‘Jaysus, woman, we don’t want to know what the house is like!’ said Desmond. ‘Peg, bring your drink over here and put us out of our misery.’

Peg brought her glass and a little jug of water to the table and sat down on Jack’s chair. The bird didn’t move and no one took any notice of him. Peg sighed and took a sip of
whiskey. ‘I’m to the brim with tea,’ she said. ‘Ah, this is nice.’

‘So, Conor’s got the hots for Ellen, eh?’ said Joe, smirking at her. ‘Bet he was surprised when you turned up with Peggine!’

‘I suppose he might have been,’ Peg replied, lifting her chin self-importantly. ‘Although he shouldn’t have been. What sort of aunt would I be to let my niece go to a
strange man’s house on her own?’

‘Did he moon at you across the table?’ Joe asked provocatively.

‘No, Joe, he didn’t moon at all,’ Ellen retorted.

‘Did you sit between them, Peg, like our Aunt Sheila who used to come between us at dances to make sure our bodies weren’t getting too close?’ Johnny asked.

‘I certainly didn’t. I sat and talked with Conor’s mother, Daphne.’

‘Oh, so it’s Conor now, is it?’ Joe teased.

‘I suppose it is,’ Peg replied, unable to suppress the small smile that alighted on her face. Peg was a woman who was quick to laugh at herself. ‘I can’t very well call
him Mr Macausland if I call his mother Daphne.’

‘What’s Daphne like?’ Alanna asked.

Peg smiled. ‘Ah, she’s a guinea a minute. Full of gossip, she is. We had the craik, all right.’

‘So, what did you and Mr Macausland talk about when Peg was busy with his mother?’ Desmond asked Ellen. Unlike his brother and nephew, Desmond didn’t find the situation at all
amusing.

Ellen shrugged. ‘I don’t know, this and that. I was painting his daughter’s nails.’

‘And he was mooning at you across the table,’ Joe repeated.

‘Quit codding about, Joe,’ said his father. ‘Does he want to see you again? That’s what I want to know.’

‘Oh, do be careful, Ellen,’ Alanna warned, her face crinkling with concern. ‘He’s nothing but trouble.’

‘Aye, don’t you go running about the countryside with him. He’s not to be trusted,’ said Desmond, and the forbidding way he looked at Ellen was almost enough to make her
crumble into submission.

‘He’s not one of us,’ said Alanna.

‘How do you mean, not one of us?’ Ellen asked.

‘He’s not Irish,’ Desmond replied firmly.

‘Neither am I ,’ Ellen pointed out. ‘My father’s English, don’t forget.’

‘And there’s no shame in that,’ Peg added fiercely. ‘If Ellen wants to go running around the countryside with Conor, that’s her business. She’s old enough to
look after herself.’ Ellen was grateful for her aunt’s support, albeit a little surprised. Peg had warned her against him just like the others.

Oswald piped up from the other end of the table where he had been listening to their banter with delight. ‘If you forbid someone to do something it’ll only make them want it
more.’

Desmond scowled into his tea. ‘It’s only right that she should know how we feel,’ he said.

‘Sometimes it’s better not to know anything at all and make up one’s own mind,’ Oswald added wisely. ‘Knowing can be very cumbersome.’

‘So, what did Daphne tell you?’ Alanna asked Peg, drumming her fingers on the table with impatience.

Peg gave a sigh, but she told them anyway. ‘People thought she was an angel, but she wasn’t,’ she said finally.

Johnny reacted as Peg expected. ‘What rubbish! Of course she’s going to say that, she’s his mother.’

‘Our mam would have done the same. Why, she’d have defended us even if we’d committed murder,’ said Desmond.

‘Conor didn’t murder anyone,’ said Peg wearily. ‘It was an accident and that’s all there is to it.’

‘But who was rowing away?’ Joe asked, his voice heavy with insinuation.

‘The leprechauns in Dylan’s mind,’ Peg replied smartly. ‘Really, you can’t believe anything he tells you!’

‘Did you get a load of him today, in a suit!’ Joe laughed.

‘I don’t know what’s got into him,’ Alanna agreed. ‘He came into my shop and I hardly recognized him. He had his hair all brushed back.’

‘What the devil was he doing in your shop? Did he buy anything?’ Desmond asked.

‘No, he was just looking around.’

‘He was probably langered, got lost and thought you were the pub.’ Joe chuckled.

Alanna shook her head. ‘No, he wasn’t drunk. He looked good. You know, I’d even go as far as to say he looked handsome.’

‘That’s nice to hear,’ said Peg. ‘He was always handsome in the old days.’

‘Maybe he’s going to finally make an honest woman of Martha,’ Desmond suggested.

‘Poor Martha.’ Alanna sighed. ‘She’s devoted to him. I’d tell her she’s wasting her time if I could. I don’t think Dylan will ever settle down, do
you?’

‘Maybe she’s not wanting to get married, Alanna,’ said Peg. ‘Perhaps she’s just happy to be near him.’

‘You can go to the pub for that.’ Desmond chortled.

‘People are better when they’re married, at least
I
think so,’ said Alanna. ‘I don’t think human beings are designed to be on their own.’ They sank
into silence for a moment. Ellen wondered what Oswald and Peg thought of that. Then, Alanna tapped her fingers on the table again. ‘Hey, Ellen. Will you come for Sunday dinner after Mass?
Father Michael is very keen to meet you.’ Ellen hesitated. ‘You
do
go to Mass, don’t you?’ Alanna added and Ellen knew instinctively that the answer had to be
yes.

‘Of course. I’d love to come. By dinner, you mean lunch, right?’

‘She’s such a posh bird!’ Joe chuckled.

‘Give it up, Joe,’ chided his father. ‘She can call it what the devil she likes.’

Alanna beamed happily. ‘That’s grand. It’ll be a right family get-together.’

They chattered on. Peg and Alanna rustled up some cold meat and potatoes and everyone stayed for supper. It was late when Peg finally got rid of them all. Oswald shuffled back
to his cottage next door, having drunk a little more wine than usual, and Peg took Bertie and Mr Badger outside for a quick walk around the house before putting them to bed.

Ellen finished clearing away the remains of supper. As she gathered up the salt and pepper and put them back in the cupboard, she felt a warm sense of belonging. She knew Peg’s kitchen
intimately now. It felt like home. She had been part of the family gathering around the table, and this time she had no longer felt such an outsider. It had given her pleasure to see how anxious
they all were about her now that Conor Macausland had shown interest. It gave her a comforting feeling to think of Desmond, Joe and Johnny rallying round to protect her. They were like three
grizzly bears and it was hard not to feel safe in their presence. However, she was determined to see Conor, whether they liked it or not. She’d have to be careful, though, to keep her
encounters to herself.

Peg put Mr Badger and Bertie in the kitchen and shut the door. They climbed the stairs, reflecting on the evening like two old companions, and Ellen couldn’t fail to notice her easy
relationship with her aunt. It was as if they had always been together.

‘Well, you get a good night’s sleep, now, Ellen.’

‘I will, Aunt Peg. It’s been a lovely day.’

‘What do you fancy doing tomorrow?’

‘I think I’ll go and explore.’

‘I think that’s a very good idea. Borrow my car and see a bit of Ireland.’ She lingered on the landing a moment. ‘You won’t be lonely on your own, now, will
you?’

‘Not at all. I’m very good on my own. I like the peace.’

‘That’s because you’re a writer. You need time to be alone with your thoughts. Well, see you tomorrow then. Sleep well.’

Ellen watched Peg wander down the corridor to her bedroom and thought of her kneeling beside the picture of her child and praying. It brought a lump to her throat to think of her grieving in
solitude, without her husband to share it with. She wondered again whether she’d notice the votive candle.

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