The Honey Queen (15 page)

And Lillie, who normally wanted to get to the bottom of every feeling and understand it fully, decided it was safer to just let it be. She would enjoy the comfort and the peace without questioning lest she disturb it somehow.

As she lay in the soft bed wriggling her toes and stretching luxuriously, she took in her surroundings. Aside from the bed, the spare room was dreadful. In truth, the whole house was dreadful, apart from the bits of the basement they’d repainted.

Seth was clearly mortally embarrassed at the state the place was in.

‘It’s a mess, I know,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I haven’t been doing it up during the months I’ve been out of work, but DIY’s not my strong suit. I thought about having a go at ripping down the walls between the bedsits on the first floor, because they’re only wood, but chances are I’d end up doing more harm than good if I tackled it. I can’t get my head into stripping wallpaper or sanding the floors in the other rooms either,’ he said. ‘But at the same time I feel as if I should be doing something because Frankie’s out earning the money. Only for some reason I can’t make myself start. I just feel so useless.’

She’d looked at the tears welling in his eyes and her heart had melted the way it used to with her sons. It was always easier for an outsider to see the truth and Lillie could plainly see that her brother was trapped in an emotional quagmire. The things he could have clung to in order to haul himself out of the morass had been snatched away from him. His job, the sense of manhood that came from providing for his family – gone. And he couldn’t cling to his wife either. Frankie, bless her, dear Frankie with her energy and her vitality and her ‘can do’ spirit, didn’t appear to see Seth’s pain despite loving him with all her heart. She was also obviously losing patience with his inability to extricate himself. Lillie hadn’t been imagining the tension between the two of them that first night: with each day, she saw new signs that it was there, away under the surface.

It was as plain as the aquiline nose on Frankie’s face that she couldn’t understand why, when he’d spent the last four months hanging around the house with nothing else to do all day, she still came home to find the place in the same sorry state. She’d never come out and say it, but Seth knew what was going through her mind:
Since it’s down to me to pay all the bills now, thanks to your redundancy, how about you do your bit? Get on and fix this disaster of a house instead of moaning about needing contractors to come in and do the work.

I know I’ve failed you
, was Seth’s unspoken response.

Watching all this silent messaging going on around her was painful.

What do you think, Sam?
Lillie said
. Seems to me there’s a bit of a mission here.
She grinned, recalling the way Sam would smile to himself whenever she got it into her head to try and sort out other people’s problems. He’d tease her, telling the boys dinner might be late tonight because their mother was on one of her missions, but he was always behind her all the way.
I reckon these two need my help, and I haven’t felt needed in a while. You’ll help me, won’t you, darling?

Lillie felt again that sense of peace filling her heart. It was answer enough.

She got up, showered and dressed, all the while making plans. There was so much to be done. Fixing the house and garden would be a breeze compared to mending Seth and Frankie’s marriage. If something wasn’t done soon, they could end up drifting so far apart that nothing would be able to bring them back together. She’d seen it happen before. If she could help in any way, she would. Not interfere, Heavens no, nothing worse than interfering relatives.

At that thought, she laughed out loud:
This is my brother and sister-in-law – I
am
a relative
. Well, all the more reason for her to help them.

And her first move would be to help Seth regain his lost vitality.

Seth had promised to drive Lillie down to the centre of Redstone that morning, but the dishwasher had broken and he needed to stay in for the repair man.

‘If you remind me of the way, I can walk,’ said Lillie. ‘It’ll do me good to stretch my legs.’

It was a cool morning, but the sun was out and Lillie enjoyed looking at the houses, admiring the flowers coming into bud in people’s gardens. She paused to say hello to a woman of her own vintage who was walking a small fluffy black dog with a tartan bow in its hair.

‘I’m so glad the winter’s behind us,’ said the woman, happy to stop for a moment. ‘I love the spring. It’s not easy to make yourself go for a walk when it’s cold and wet all the time. Poor Noodles hates the rain.’

Noodles was busily sniffing around Lillie’s comfortable trainers.

‘What a sweet dog,’ commented Lillie, bending down to stroke her. ‘What breed is she?’

‘A bitza,’ said the woman proudly. ‘A little bit of everything. Tell me now, your accent – you’re not from around here. Australian?’

It was a conversation Lillie quickly became used to having. She’d decided to go into a few of the shops in Redstone to familiarize herself with the place so that she’d feel part of it all. She’d also offered to cook dinner that evening and was looking forward to seeing what ingredients she might pick up. It didn’t take long to discover that there was no dropping into places anonymously in Redstone.

The girl in the bakery introduced herself as Sue. She was thrilled to discover that Lillie was from Melbourne. ‘We were there once ourselves, on a gap year. Feels like a million years ago,’ she said, ‘doesn’t it, Zeke?’

‘Indeed it does,’ said her husband, poking his head through the hatch between the shop and the kitchen.

Sue didn’t know Frankie even though Lillie described her in some detail, but she’d seen Seth around.

‘Quiet man, tall with sad dark eyes?’

‘That’s the one,’ Lillie agreed. ‘What does he buy when he comes in here?’

‘A bit of French stick,’ said Sue. ‘I’ve tried to tempt him with our spelt bread and some of the wheaten loaves or the cakes, but he’s not interested.’

‘Spelt bread, let’s try that,’ said Lillie firmly. ‘Is that baklava?’ She pointed to a tray of tiny cubes of nuts, honey and filo pastry.

‘Yes,’ said Sue.

‘Fabulous,’ said Lillie, thinking of both dessert and the restorative qualities of honey, something Sam had instilled into her over the years he’d kept hives. ‘Let’s have twelve.’

‘Planning a feast?’ said Zeke, coming through into the shop.

‘A feast! What a wonderful idea,’ Lillie said. ‘It could be a feast to say thank you for having me stay with them.’

In the delicatessen, she bought salad greens, olives, feta cheese and some tapas from two friendly men who moved around behind the counter serving different people with all the grace of a couple long married.

They introduced themselves as Paul and Mark, and told her they longed to go to Australia but now that they had the deli, they couldn’t just up and leave it.

‘It’s our baby,’ Paul explained, and Lillie watched him smile over at Mark lovingly.

Lillie beamed back at them. Their good cheer was quite infectious.

Next she popped into the beautician’s to get a brochure so she could book a relaxing treatment for Frankie as a thank you. The salon was called Bobbi’s and when she discerned that the lady at the desk was the Bobbi in question, Lillie went over to introduce herself.

‘What do you think would be the best relaxation treatment for a woman who has no time to herself and dearly needs a treat?’ Lillie asked.

‘What age would this lady be?’ said Bobbi, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a pen.

‘Mid-forties,’ said Lillie diplomatically.

‘Does she have facials or anything? Does she look after herself, is what I mean. Because if she’s used to facials, I’d recommend one, but if she’s not, perhaps a massage and a mani-pedi?’

Lillie regarded Bobbi. ‘To be honest, I have no idea if she does any of the above. All I know is that she’s wildly busy and pretty stressed right now. How about I give her a voucher that will cover either – could you set her up with someone who is qualified to do whichever treatment she chooses on the day?’

‘I understand loud and clear. That’s no problem,’ said Bobbi and smiled. ‘Now, where did you say you were from?’

They do things differently here,
Lillie emailed to Doris a week after she’d arrived in Redstone. She was using Seth’s computer and was delighted that she was able to get into her email account so easily. Those lessons in the library back home had really paid off.

And it’s as if they speak a different language. When they say ‘I’m grand’, it means ‘I’m OK’. Mad doesn’t mean mad in the sense we use, either. Seth keeps telling me that Frankie’s mother is a bit mad, but that doesn’t mean she’s medicated – although Seth laughed and said she should be. He means she’s a bit eccentric, I think. Either way, I’m going to find out soon because Frankie’s family are coming over at the weekend for dinner.

The other night, Seth asked Frankie where she’d put the yoke for doing potatoes. Turns out he meant the peeler and ‘yoke’ means anything you can’t remember the name of. If you’re ‘gas’, you’re funny, not inflammable.

Even something as simple as ordering coffee gets complicated – flat whites aren’t so common here. They’re more into lattes and cappuccinos, although the woman behind me in the queue said ‘far from lattes we were reared’. I had to ask Frankie for a translation when I got home. She said it’s a common refrain, something people say to remind themselves that there was a time when the country didn’t have baristas and cafés, and that they shouldn’t get above themselves, which is considered a terrible sin in Ireland.

I told Frankie that it’s far from lattes that
I
was reared and she roared with laughter and said I’m getting the hang of it all.

Seth took me to see his childhood home yesterday. I had to steel myself beforehand, to be honest. I was afraid I’d break down and cry, and we both know I’ve done enough crying these past months. But I didn’t …

Seth had been all chat as he drove a winding route around Cork up into the south side. The houses there were a lot like the ones in Redstone, so far as Lillie could judge, but he was brimming with excitement and she didn’t want to shatter his enthusiasm.

They were going to look at the place where her birth mother had lived after giving Lillie away. They’d see the streets she walked to the shops, the school where Seth went as a child … Lillie was afraid this might be the point when the bitterness would finally take hold and she’d start to feel angry at this woman who’d been able to give her away.

Please don’t let me feel that way
, she prayed as they drove along, Seth pointing out landmarks along the way.

‘That’s St Murtagh’s,’ he said, slowing as they passed a small red-brick school. ‘It’s still going after all these years. Mother kept me back a year and I didn’t start till I was five, which was unusual at the time. I had a bad chest as a child and she used to make me eat lots of eggs to build me up.’

Please
, prayed Lillie,
I don’t want to feel bitter. It was a different time and who knows what it was like then. She did the best she could for me.

‘That was the corner shop,’ said Seth, when they reached a small crossroads. ‘It’s a mini-market now – same thing, I suppose. Now this,’ he slowed to walking pace to let her see the name plate on the wall of a house, ‘was our road. Lismore Road. We were halfway along, number twenty-three.’

It was a short road and the houses were small single-storey, red-brick ones. The front yards were minuscule, a few square feet at most.

Lillie held her breath.

‘The parking’s always mad here,’ Seth went on, then he glanced at Lillie and saw her white face. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Nerves, makes me chatter.’

He put a hand on her knee comfortingly.

‘Will I drive by, or do you want to park and walk up to it?’

‘Park,’ said Lillie, finding her voice. ‘Martin and Evan want photos.’

‘I have the camera,’ Seth said, pulling in.

Together, hand in hand, they walked to number twenty-three. It looked the same as all the other houses on the street: small and pretty.

‘The bedrooms were at the front,’ Seth said quietly. ‘My parents had the one to the left of the door and mine was to the right.’

They looked at the tiny yard, which had been paved over. A gardener must live there now, Lillie thought, because there were several planters beside the black door, and healthy shrubs spilled out over the edges.

‘We had one bathroom, a small kitchen and the living room ran the width of the house,’ Seth went on. ‘When my father’s aunt came to live with us, the one I told you about who’d been in a camp, Dad got an extension built to make a room for her. There wasn’t much room in the place, but we were happy.’

Lillie held on to her brother’s hand and took in the old house where a woman she’d never known had raised a son, nursed a haunted old lady, and apparently lived a happy life, leaving the trauma of her youth behind her. Sixty-four years ago, when religious men held the moral compass in their hands, when pregnancy out of wedlock was considered a heinous sin, she had given birth to a baby girl and placed her in the hands of the Church.

She pictured the woman from the photos, living in this house with her husband and son, and then she tried to imagine what it must have been like, knowing that somewhere far away her daughter was being brought up by strangers.

Jennifer wouldn’t have had the comfort of knowing that Lillie had found the best possible home and was being raised with huge love by Charlotte and Dan. How she must have worried, Lillie thought with sadness. She knew that
she
would have been torn apart with worry over her beloved child if she’d ever had a baby adopted years before. How hard it all must have been for Jennifer.

The wise woman inside Lillie felt no bitterness or anger looking at this small home. Jennifer had done the best she could and had carried that burden for the rest of her life.