Breakfast at Darcy's (9 page)

He thinks for a moment. ‘Not really.’ But then a fond smile breaks out across his tanned face. ‘You know something, Darcy,
I might just have the perfect one.’

‘Are you sure?’

He nods. ‘Now, are you ready with the box?’

‘Yes.’ I hold it up again and take a deep breath. This is so difficult; there’s so much I want to say, but I just don’t know
where to begin. I wish that the box I keep buried deep within myself could be opened up just as easily as the one I’m holding
in front of me right now. ‘Goodbye, Aunt Molly, I know this is what you wanted − to spend the rest of your days here on this
island, on Tara − and I hope you find peace and happiness at being back here once again.’

I open up the box and shake my aunt free again into the wind. And just like my words, she is immediately swept up and cast
away into the clear blue sky, soaring around the island for ever more, like one of the gulls that hover over the sea below
us.

As I perform her request, I hear Eamon begin to speak:

May the Irish hills caress you.

May her lakes and rivers bless you.

May the luck of the Irish enfold you.

May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.

We both watch in silence for a moment, each of us caught up in our own personal memories of one Emmeline Ava Aisling McCall.

I turn to Eamon.

‘That was absolutely perfect. Thank you.’

‘So was she, Darcy,’ he says, his voice trembling. And as I look into Eamon’s eyes, I’m surprised to see they’re swimming
with tears. ‘So was she.’

Later that evening we’re back on the mainland again, sitting in the bar of the local pub we’re all staying in. Dermot and
I have pints of Guinness in front of us, and Niall is nursing a medicinal brandy after he found the return crossing in the
boat a little choppy for his stomach.

‘So then, Darcy,’ Dermot asks, coming straight to the point as always. ‘Have you come to a decision?’

After Eamon and I had cast my aunt’s ashes adrift into the strong sea surrounding Tara, we’d headed back down to the rickety
little jetty to meet up again with the others. While we’d been walking back to the boat together, Eamon had informed me that
he’d lived on Tara virtually all his life, but for the past few years or so much of that had been spent alone. His only contact
with the outside world had been his occasional visits to the mainland for necessities such as medical appointments and to
pick up essential supplies.

Eamon and Dermot hadn’t exactly hit it off when they’d
been introduced; especially when Dermot started telling Eamon how it would be easy to improve the water and power supplies
on the island. I didn’t want Eamon to start worrying that his peaceful life on Tara might be ruined for ever if I went to
live there, so I’d quickly herded my party back down into the little red boat again. There was no point in upsetting anyone
just yet, not until everything had been properly discussed and I’d finally decided what I was going to do.

I take a large gulp of my Guinness before answering Dermot’s question. Have I come to a decision?

This should be easy: how can I turn down the chance to grant my aunt’s last wishes and inherit much-needed money just because
I have to suffer a bit of hardship for a year? I’d be mad to – wouldn’t I? But now, after visiting Tara today, it has truly
hit home how rural the island is. It’s just so remote and removed from my usual life back in London. How will I survive living
there day in, day out for a whole year?

Then after meeting Eamon, and learning just how much Tara meant to my aunt, my thoughts have been thrown into turmoil once
again. I owe Molly for all those years of her life I missed out on. Those lost years, when I should have been there for her.
For my aunt to have given me this chance – this huge responsibility – I must have meant more to her than I ever realised.

My mobile phone rings in my bag, breaking the tension around the table.

‘Excuse me a moment,’ I apologise to Niall and Dermot, grabbing my phone and heading for the door.

It’s Roxi.

‘
How
long?’ I exclaim into the phone, as she informs me that the builders have found rot in the timber joists around our flat
while they’ve been pricing up, and that now, instead of a few days of disruption, ours and Mr Jenkinson’s flat above are going
to have to be completely ripped apart and it will be weeks, possibly months before the flat is habitable again. Appar ently
this isn’t the first time Mr Jenkinson’s bath has over flowed.

‘But hasn’t Mohamed got another flat we can move into?’

‘Apparently he’s full right now. He says his brother’s got a one-bedroom place out in Hackney you can have temporarily if
that’s any help, to save you kippin’ on your mate’s sofa. I’m all right in the room above the pub for now, but it seems our
days of sharing are over for the time being, Darce.’

I sigh. I really don’t like living alone, let alone in Hackney. Roxi and I have been so happy together in our little two-bedroom
flat out in Wanstead; I should have known it wouldn’t last for ever.

‘Tell him thanks but no thanks, Rox. I think I’ve finally made up my mind about where I’m going to be living for the next
year.’

‘You’re going for it, then! That’s my girl!’

‘Yes, but I’m so going to miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you too, honey, but perhaps this is fate’s way of giving you that little push in the right direction.’

‘Yes, I have made my decision,’ I say with assurance, sitting back down at the table in front of Niall and Dermot when I’ve
finished my call with Roxi. I look confidently between the two men, even though my insides are telling a different tale.

Niall leans forward, eagerly awaiting the next words to leave my lips. Wearing jeans, a white shirt and navy-blue v-neck jumper,
he’s looks much more casual today than the last time we sat in a pub together. He rests his elbows on the table in front of
him. Dermot lounges back in his seat, not appearing at all bothered about what I might be going to say.

‘And,’ I announce in dramatic fashion, even though on the inside I’m a lot less confident. ‘I’m going to do it. I’m going
to go and live on the island of Tara for a whole year.’

‘
Yes
!’ I hear Niall shriek. Blushing, he lowers his raised fist back to the table again. He hurriedly looks about him in case
anyone in the pub has seen.

‘Are you sure?’ Dermot asks, after he’s finished rolling his eyes at Niall. ‘There’s a lot more to this than meets the eye.’

‘What would
you
do in my position, then?’ This is all I need, someone throwing doubt balls to knock me back again when I’ve just made up
my mind.

‘I’d do it, of course. But then I’m not you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?

‘Just look at you, for one thing.’ Dermot casts his eyes over me with disdain.

I give him a look of equal contempt. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting that it’s because I’m a woman that I might have a problem
in taking on this challenge? Because I may have labelled you many things since we met earlier, Dermot, but a chauvinist certainly
wasn’t one of them.’

Dermot doesn’t seem particularly offended by my comment. ‘No, I’m not suggesting that at all. It’s not the fact that you
are
a woman, Darcy, it’s the
type
of woman you are. Just look at you, with your false nails and your designer labels! You
won’t last five minutes out there on that island without a beauty parlour, tanning salon or fashion boutique within a five-mile
radius.’

I straighten the sleeves of my Whistles jacket I’d changed into when we got back from the island earlier. He has the cheek
to comment on the way I look, sitting there looking like an advert for Lumberjacks R Us in his baggy jeans, brown boots and
checked cotton shirt. I eye Dermot for a moment before I reply.

‘First,’ and I hold out my hand for him to inspect, ‘my nails aren’t fake, they’re real. Second, I hardly think what I’m wearing
today constitutes designer labels – for your information it was all bought on the high street. And third and most important,
how could you possibly know the type of person I am? We’ve only just met today.’

‘Oh, I know,’ he says with a smug smile, not bothering to look at my outstretched hand.

I close my hand into a fist, and resisting the crazy urge to use it, slowly I bring it back towards my body. ‘I see.’

‘I mean,’ Dermot continues, ‘it’s been quite obvious from today that you wouldn’t have the first idea about how to set up
even the most basic of supplies for a community of people to survive out there on that island.’

‘No, I have to agree with you there,’ I say, nodding my head slowly. ‘You’re quite right. I don’t have any idea about those
sorts of things.’

Dermot smiles contentedly to himself while he sips happily on his pint.

‘But you do. Which is why, Dermot, I’d like you to be my project manager for the island. And not only that,’ I continue to
speak while I watch Dermot’s face change from satisfaction to surprise, ‘I’m really going to need someone on site to help
me manage this project for the whole year I’m there. After all, as you’ve so rightly pointed out, what am I going to know
about maintaining technical things like water and power supplies, and what to do if they go wrong? Which is why I’d like you
to be one of the community of people living on the island with me. What do you say, Dermot? Are you up for the challenge,
or are you worried you might break a nail?’

I hear Niall giggle from the other side of the table, but I don’t let my eyes waver from Dermot’s.

Dermot, recovering his composure, simply sits back in his chair again.

‘I’m up for a challenge,’ he says coolly, picking up his pint again. ‘
If
the price is right.’

I’m surprised at how quickly Dermot agrees. After the amount of time it’s taken me to decide whether I’m going to go and live
there, he’s hardly had a chance to think about it. ‘Money is not an issue. Is it, Niall?’ I say, quickly glancing across at
him for back-up.

Niall shakes his head.

‘Good. Then it looks like you’ve just hired yourself a project manager, Miss McCall.’ Dermot holds out his hand and we shake
on it. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘I’m sure I won’t regret hiring you, Dermot,’ I say, deliberately ignoring his jibe. ‘I’m sure you’ll do just fine.’

Over a few more rounds of drinks we begin to thrash out some of the technical difficulties Dermot can foresee in setting up
an island as a habitable place for a community to live on for one
year. It’s hard not to drift off when he starts talking about things like bunded tanks for fuel storage. But when he starts
comparing things like the costs involved in installing wind turbines and individual generators, my ears begin to take a bit
more interest.

‘
How
much?’ I ask, aghast, already beginning to see my entire budget slipping away before I’ve even spent my first night on the
island.

‘On paper, the generator would appear to be the cheaper of the two in the short term,’ Dermot explains. ‘But environmentally
your wind turbine is going to be the greener option in the long run.’

‘I’ve got to make my island budget last a whole year, so we’d better go for the generators.’

Dermot shrugs. ‘You’re the boss. Obviously at the moment this is all just guesswork on my part. I’ll have to draw you up a
proper plan with all the individual costings and projections for you to agree on, before any work is begun for real over there.’

‘How long do you think it will take before the island is habitable?’ Niall asks.

I look over at him. He’s been strangely silent up until now.

Dermot makes the tradesman’s favourite noise – a sharp intake of breath. ‘Ooh, now that’s a difficult thing to pin down. It’s
an unusual project, this … ’

‘A ball-park figure, Dermot. I mean, how will Darcy be able to advertise for people to come and live on Tara if she can’t
give them a rough idea of when they can move into their new homes?’

I’ve not even thought about that. How on earth am I going to persuade fifteen people to come and live on this
island? I’m not exactly brimming with enthusiasm at the thought of it myself, so how am I going to persuade others it’s a
great idea?

‘A few months, maybe, if I’m allowed enough manpower to complete all the work, and of course if the weather is kind to us.’

‘So April, then?’ Niall suggests hopefully.

Dermot nods. ‘Mmm, maybe, for the project to be complete – but like I said, it depends on many things. There should be some
proper accommodation up and running well before then, though, if you should want to come across earlier to oversee things,
Darcy?’ He grins
.

‘I’ll bear that in mind, thanks, Dermot.’ I smile tightly. But springtime sounds like a much more pleasant season in which
to begin this experience than winter, so I doubt I’ll be taking up his offer.

Eventually we finish up our discussions for the evening and head off to bed.

Dermot’s bedroom is the first door we come to along the corridor, so Niall and I bid him goodnight and continue down the hallway
towards our own rooms.

As we arrive at my room, I pause outside the door.

‘Are you OK, Niall?’ I ask, my hand poised over the door handle. ‘It’s just that you’ve been a bit quiet since we came back
from the island.’

Niall manages a half-smile. ‘It’s kind of you to notice, Darcy, but I’m just fine.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘You know, I’m
so pleased you’ve decided to respect your aunt’s wishes in this way.’

‘Come on, Niall,’ I encourage, suspecting this to be a
deliberate attempt to change the subject. ‘I know there’s something bothering you.’

Niall looks up from where he’s been inspecting the pattern on the hotel carpet for the last few seconds. ‘You really want
to know?’

‘Of course I do, or I wouldn’t have asked.’

Niall’s blue-grey eyes blink steadily back into mine. ‘I’m jealous.’

‘You’re
jealous
? Jealous of what?’