The Oyster Catcher (26 page)

Chapter Forty-seven

‘No, no way!’ I hear him shout. The front door of the cottage slams shut.

I’m grabbing up my belongings.

‘You can’t do this, not again,’ Sean is standing in the doorway.

‘Sean! Get back in there! You’re on, for God’s sake!’ I can hear myself but my voice is choked with tears.

‘I’m not going back in there until I can be sure you’re not going to do another moonlight flit!’ He’s angry and his face is etched with pain.

‘Sean, you don’t understand. I have to go. I came back and got the festival up and running. I came back to give you your chance at making this happen. Now I have to go or … or …’

‘Or what?’ he demands leaning against the door and holding one hand inside the other as if cradling it.

I sigh, throwing my bag on the bed.

‘There’s a journalist here who’s going to report my story, sensationalise it and then you’ll be plagued by uninvited gawpers, people wanting to stare,  on top of what Nancy’s done.’

He wraps his arms around me and I fall into his chest. It feels like I’m home, but I can’t stay here.

‘You have to get back in there.’ I push him away. ‘Otherwise Dan will win and then he’ll buy this place!’

‘I’m not going back in there. I would give up all of this if it meant knowing that you were beside me for the rest of my life. I don’t care about any of this if it means I can’t have you.’ He nods towards the crowds milling around the barn.

‘But Nancy?’ I hug myself.

‘It’s over.’ He emphasises each word. ‘Nancy didn’t want me. She just wanted the oysters and she was using whatever methods she could to get them. And I didn’t really want her. I just didn’t want to risk falling in love again.’ He takes hold of my elbows. ‘But it’s too late for that.’

I fall back into his chest. There is a slow hand clap and appearing behind Sean in the doorway are Nancy and her journalist. They’re both smiling.

‘Touching,’ she says and I want to wipe the smile off her face.

She gestures to her journalist friend.

‘Get back on the stand, Sean. There’s still a chance,’ I say.

‘His round is finished. Dan won,’ Nancy tells me.

‘Get out, Nancy. You’ve got what you wanted. Have the oysters. I have something more important than you’ll ever know,’ Sean says calmly. ‘Get out of my house.’

She gives me a considered look then turns to leave.

‘Tell them to put you in the next round,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘Tell them … You can’t give all this up for me,’ I’m begging him.

Sean looks at me and shakes his head.

‘Why? Why not?’ I’m frustrated.

‘Because blood in the oysters is automatic disqualification,’ He holds up the hand he has been cupping. There is a cut right through his palm and it’s dripping on the floor.

I run outside to where Nancy is swapping notes with her journalist friend.

‘So that’s it. I get the oysters and the story …’ Nancy smiles swishing her hand as Grace sniffs around her. ‘Don’t unpack. Dan’ll be buying the farm from Johnny. It’ll be business as usual in no time. The only thing missing will be you and your boyfriend.’

‘Oh no it won’t,’ I say and before I can think about what I’m doing I march back towards the barn,  knocking Johnny Power and his lad sideways as I push my way into the crowded room and march up to the stand. 

Chapter Forty-eight

I take a deep breath and do something I should have done a long time ago. I step up on to the stand behind the white-cloth’d tables and the crowd quietens in expectation.

‘My name is Fiona Clutterbuck,’ I say like an alcoholic at the end of one road and the start of another. ‘I was jilted on my wedding day. I stole the camper van we were due to go on honeymoon in and ended up here.’ There’s a sharp intake of breath. Loudest from Margaret.

‘What are you doing?’ she hisses.

‘And do you know what?’ I look at Margaret. ‘It was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because here is where I learnt to be myself and not be someone I’m not. And if I had my time again, I do it all again.’ I say and see Rose sniffing into a tissue.

‘Someone once told me that when you get old it’s the memories that matter, so make sure they’re good ones,’ I smile at Grandad who’s clapping, his eyes watering like mad.

‘I was once scared of being found. But what I realised was that I hadn’t found myself until now. So Patsy, I’ll be the final contestant in this round.’

Margaret rushes around getting a board and a knife.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Margaret is laying out board and oysters. Her tiara has slipped to the left.

‘Never more so.’ I clear my throat.

‘Well, that prize money could really set you up.’ She straightens up.

‘This isn’t about the money, this is about standing up for what’s right.’

I think the fact that I’m up against Seamus and a couple of others who have spent too much time at the bar helps me make it through to the final. More luck and too much Guinness on their part I think. But now, it’s for real. It’s the final.

‘Excellent, excellent.’ Dan is beside me whispering in my ear. ‘So, make this look good, open a few oysters and then I’ll win and your job is still safe with me, baby!’ he grins and holds his hand up to high five me. I tap it gently and swallow hard. Yes, I could just do what he says. Leave this mess behind. Open a few oysters then get back on that plane to Boston and start all over again.

Dan is picking up the oysters and inspecting them.

‘And these are the native oysters you told me about?’ He’s tapping one. I groan, remembering how I let the cat out of the bag on my birthday. He said I’d given him the idea. It was me who’d told him there was gold in these waters!  Margaret is laying up the boards. I have to tell her.

‘Dan’s in this with Nancy. He wants to win and then buy the farm out from under Sean. He’s going to pay off Sean’s debt collector and take the farm for himself.’ Margaret stops laying out the oysters. ‘I don’t want to hurt you again, but you have to know. You know I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m sorry.’

Margaret looks up at me like a kicked puppy.

‘Contestants ready?’ Patsy is sounding more and more like the commentator from Gladiators.

I look up and see Sean has slid in at the back of the barn. He’s looking worried. I look at Dan who winks at me. He looks to his left where Frank is swaying slightly. To the right is the Swede.

‘This is the final of the Dooleybridge shell-shucking contest. Contestant number one is Al Sterky from Sweden.’ He raises both hands above his ruddy red face and there’s a small cheer from one corner of the barn. ‘Then, erm,’ he consults the clipboard Margaret is showing him. ‘Fiona Clutterbuck from the U.K.’ There’s a huge cheer. I look up to see Rose, Lily, the kids, Seamus, Padraig, Patsy, Margaret, and Grandad all rooting for me. Tears prick my eyes. I can just make out Sean shouting his support through his cupped hands, even though one of them is bandaged up.

I wipe away the blurriness with the back of my hand. What Brian did might have felt cruel at the time but, he did for both our sakes. Now it’s my turn to do something I believe in. I pick up my first oyster.

‘Go Fiona!’ I hear a Cardiff accent and look up again.

‘Betty?!’ It can’t be! ‘Betty? Who’s minding the café?’ I ask in astonishment.

‘Thought it was time Kimberly had a go. Whatever mess-up she makes it’s time she had a go at proving herself. Now, I’ve come all this way to see you win! Brian had that Googley alert telling him about the oyster festival.’ Garda Eamon is standing beside Betty.

‘He’s been ever so helpful,’ she tips her head at him and says in a loud whisper with her hand to her mouth, ‘Gay network, Brian says. I caught the first flight over once he’d confirmed it was you. We miss you, love.’

‘Dan Murphy all the way from Boston,’ Patsy shouts and the cameraman moves in on Dan. I’m still in shock. It’s all so surreal. Dan stands up and raises his hands above his head too and then turns his baseball cap back to front, ready for battle.

‘Remember, make it look good,’ Dan smiles at me. ‘Let me win and you get a whole new life in Boston.’

‘Oh, I will, Dan, I will,’ I grip the knife.

‘There’s all to play for.’ Patsy is bigging it up for the cameras and Margaret is deep in thought when Patsy shouts ‘GO!!’

I hold the first oyster, frill to the base of my thumb, but my hand is shaking so much I can’t get the knife into the hinge. I tighten my grip, take a deep breath, hold it steady and finally I’m in. Then I push the knife in all the way closely missing cutting the palm of my own hand. I look across to either side of me. Al the Swede is sweating profusely. He’s working so hard to get into the oysters that they’re getting shell fragments in. Dan is working methodically. There’s a crash and Frank falls into the table where Patsy and Margaret are sitting sending clipboards and stopwatches flying. Margaret straightens her tiara and steps away from the flying Frank with dignity.

I look back at the oysters and focus. I can open them but I’m nowhere near as quick as Dan. He’s opening them like a knife going through butter. I put the knife in again and push and twist and then I imagine Sean has his arms around me, just like he did that first time he taught me.

‘Understand what’s keeping it closed,’ I hear his voice and my knife goes straight to the upper muscle and slices through it in a clean cut, releasing it from its shell and the same for the bottom muscle I flip it and start the next.

Suddenly I’m in a rhythm and the oysters are opening in clean quick movements, like I’ve suddenly got a magic key. Aim at the hinge, push, twist, pop, slide, slice, and flip. I’m so into my rhythm I don’t notice I’ve run out of oysters. I quickly stand back at the same time as Dan does. Al the Swede still has two left and throws down his knife, beaten. So it’s between me and Dan. He looks at me with a confused frown. He’s panting and grabs at his water bottle.

‘Good work,’ he says in between sips. ‘Who knew eh?’ still frowning and confused. I’m just numb, hoping it was enough, but it may not have been.

‘Contestants leave the stand please,’ Patsy instructs, throwing out his arm. Al the Swede is bright red in the face and is handed a pint of lager. He downs it in one and holds it high to the applause of the audience. I step down and am immediately scooped up in Sean’s arms. He hugs me so me feet are off the ground and I want to stay there for ever.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think it was enough,’ I say.

Dan stands down and looks over at Margaret. She folds her arms and turns away from him with a sniff.

‘What the? What is going on here today?’ His arms are open, his shoulders high. Margaret decides that’s enough of the silent treatment and stomps over to him. The judges are looking at the two boards, pointing with their pens and looking at their clipboards.

‘I can’t believe you’re going to do this,’ she says, none too quietly. ‘How could you? You can’t just buy up a farm and put another farmer out of business.’

‘But honey, I thought you wanted the world to know about Dooleybridge oysters again.’

‘I do, but not like this!’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly into the crook of Sean’s neck. I breathe in the smell of turf and sea air.

‘Hey, nothing to be sorry about. You did it. You came out of your shell! It doesn’t matter now if you’ve won the money. You found you. Feels good?’

‘Bloody brilliant!’ I say and beam and then kiss him, long and deep and he kisses me back, like he means it.

‘And the winner is,’ Patsy announces and regretfully we pull apart.

‘Finding you was all that mattered,’ says Sean, and tweaks my nose.

‘On presentation … our very own FI ENGLISH! Or should that be,’ he consults the clipboard. ‘FIONA CLUTTERBUCK!’ he shouts again so the microphone crackles and pops and whines. The crowd cheer and suddenly I’m swamped by people patting me on the head, hugging me, and shaking my hands.

I can’t believe it! I actually won! I’m being pulled out of the crowd and then I’m on the stand again, being handed a silver cup and a fat envelope of cash. Cameras are flashing and the TV crew are right in my face, only this time I don’t mind. In fact, I think I quite like it. Actually, I look at the cup then hold it above my head, I love it! The crowd in the barn cheers even louder.

‘I am Fiona Clutterbuck, Champion Shell-Shucker!’ I grin until my cheeks ache. Everyone I care about is here and they’re cheering and clapping.

I grab hold of the envelope and rip it open. 10,000 euros.

‘What are you going to do with the money?’ the cameraman asks. ‘Go travelling?’

‘No,’ I smile. ‘I’m going to stay right here,’ and I march over to Johnny Power.

‘Fi, wait!’ Sean catches my arm. ‘You don’t have to do this. This is your money. You can start over wherever you want now.’

‘I want to be right here. This is my debt, remember.’ I turn back to Johnny.

‘5,000, right?’ I say.

Johnny smiles.

‘The debt just went up,’ he grins. ‘Overdue payment, tut, tut,’ he grins again just as Sean’s fist hits him in the jaw, knocking him sideways and stumbling out of the door.

‘Everything all right, Sean?’ says Garda Eamon.

‘Just about perfect now thank you, Garda.’ Sean stretches out his hand. I pull out a bunch of notes, count them and toss them on top of Johnny Power who is being helped to his feet. Mad Frank, Seamus and Padraig, Patsy, and even Al the Swede are standing behind Sean, backing up a member of their oyster family.

‘Get out and don’t come back,’ Rose shouts from behind.

‘Never did like oysters anyway,’ Johnny mutters as he hurries away with his lad in tow.

Sean is beside me. He picks up one of the oysters and holds it to my mouth by way of celebration. I hesitate and then shake my head. He frowns and I feed it to him with a smile.

‘Let’s get this party started!’ I shout and another cheer goes up,

Outside the sun is beating down. Seamus and Padraig are leading out donkey rides across the sand where the sea is starting to come back in. Grandad is sitting by the barn, drink in hand,

‘And you could see for miles. Oyster beds all over there were,’ he was telling a group of Swedish tourists here with Al.

Margaret and Dan are making up by the barbeque where Rose is serving up the grilled oysters.

‘So, you two made up?’ I ask. Margaret gasps and hugs me.

‘So, you’re staying?’ She holds my hands.

‘I am,’ I smile, squeezing her hands. She looks coyly up at Dan.

‘Dan’s asked me to go to the States with him, now that he’s not buying an oyster farm here.’ She suddenly looks crestfallen. ‘That’s if you don’t mind. But if you’re staying and don’t want the job, well, I would.’

I’m thrilled for her.

‘Oh Margaret, that’s brilliant. You should go. You need to let the world see Margaret from Dooleybridge.’

‘Well, now I can see that Grandad is right. Life is made up of memories, make them good ones. It’s no good sitting and waiting for life to come to me any more.’ We both look to where Grandad is sitting with Betty beside him, pointing out the sights and telling her about Dooleybridge in its heyday.

‘And I’d like to say I’m sorry,’ Dan holds out his hand to Sean who eyes it suspiciously. ‘I just got carried away. I’m going back to the States now, but I’d be really interested in talking to you about supplying me with oysters. I’m going to open up a new restaurant paying homage to my Irish roots, an oyster bar. I’ll pay top whack.’ Sean looks at the hand again and then smiles and shakes it.

‘I’ll send you over all the Pacific oysters you like but as for the native ones …’ he looks over at the barn where the drinkers are enjoying Guinness and eating the barbequed oysters hot from the foil they’re cooked in, ‘they’re going to stay right here.’

I don’t get a chance to find out what Sean means. Betty is on her way to the bar.

‘Just getting me and Grandad a top-up. Oh, Fiona, love, you were amazing. Who’d’ve ever thought it, little Fiona Clutterbuck from my kitchens, a champion shell-shucker. And now you’ll be travelling all over the world entering shucking competitions.’

‘Yes, yes I will, won’t I?’ I can’t stop smiling.

‘You know there’s always a job for you back with me. You could move out front now if you like, Kimberly won’t mind,’ Betty says.

‘Oh thanks, Betty, but you know, this is home now. But give everyone my love, Brian and Adrian too. Tell them I send them all the luck in the world.’

‘Will do, lovey,’ she beams back and rolls off to the bar.

‘How about some music?’ Patsy comes out with his mandolin. Padraig follows with a fiddle. Lily’s got a squeeze box.

‘Sean, you up for it?’ Patsy calls.

Sean checks to see I’m OK then goes off to get his guitar. I sit down at one of the tables and chairs outside the barn.

‘What you need is a nice cup of tea,’ says Rose and puts one down in front of me.

‘Thanks, Rose.’

‘No, thank you. This is all down to you. You’ve given my kids their community back, something to bring their kids back to.’

I look out again at the children playing, the families walking across the bay. Freddie, Mercury and our newest arrival are enjoying their jobs, no longer redundant, and Grandad is feeling much the same, I’d say. If only there was a way to keep this going. The band strikes up and Sean is on stage playing with them.

Maybe there is …

‘So, looks like you’re staying,’ Nancy interrupts my thoughts.

‘Looks that way,’ I say and sip the tea.

She sniffs.