Fergus started to laugh and Padraig joined in. ‘I’ll leave you to your prayers,’ said Padraig, his face abruptly becoming sombre. He patted Fergus on the shoulder and left the room. Fergus stood for a while with his head bent and his eyes closed and Carly did the same until she’d run out of things to pray for. She had another look at Granny in her bootee slippers and it made her smile. Maybe that was the idea? You never knew with the Irish, they were always up for the craic.
The Irish seemed to have a good balance when it came to death, thought Carly. The funeral was a long drawn-out and sad affair, as funerals often are, where many cried and a few wailed, which took Carly by surprise at first but a steadying hand and a few words about Irish traditions from Cormac had her understanding it all a little better. Once that was over it was all about celebrating Granny’s life, all the things she had done and achieved. And while it wasn’t the most adventurous or high-achieving existence, everyone had high praise for her as a mother, grandmother, friend and neighbour, and to the people who knew her best that was what really counted.
Carly managed to lure Fergus away from a riotous drinking game.
‘It’s noisy in there, are you okay?’
He shrugged. ‘They’re all family, they know about my deafness and that it makes no difference to who I am.’
‘Doesn’t stop it being noisy?’ said Carly.
‘No, but it does stop it bothering me.’ He put his arm round her shoulder, pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head.
‘I saw you signing with that lady in the navy dress earlier. That was nice.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ laughed Fergus. ‘Mary is something like me mam’s third cousin twice removed and she learned to sign years ago when her donkey went deaf.’
‘What?’ said Carly, starting to laugh.
‘Well, she thinks she knows some sign language but I think she’s making half of the signs up so it was either her donkey or her neighbour that she signed and I’d like to imagine it was the former!’
When their laughter had dwindled Carly remembered something she wanted to ask. ‘What did Granny mean about the halving of a potato?’ she asked. She had been puzzling over it ever since.
‘It’s easy to halve the potato where there’s love,’ repeated Fergus. ‘It’s an old Irish proverb …’ Carly started to snigger. ‘It is! And it means that if you’re surrounded by love then however little you have it’s easier to share it.’
Carly stopped sniggering. ‘That’s actually quite sweet.’
‘I know,’ said Fergus emphatically and he kissed her softly.
The lady in the navy dress approached and signed to them both that there was ‘chicken cake’ if they’d like some. Fergus started to giggle as Carly kindly signed back that they would love some ‘lemon cake’ although she used the correct sign for ‘lemon’. Confusing the two was an easy mistake for a novice signer to make.
Petra was being attentive during Beth’s lunchtime shift and she figured that she must have spoken to Jack. When it was time to go, Beth was zipping up her coat when Petra came over to her. ‘Are you sure you are okay? I am a little worried,’ she said.
‘I’m fine, honest.’
‘Good. Then I won’t ask again. What is the next project at the cottage?’
‘Oh, decorating mainly but at some stage I need to tackle the stairs. They are missing a few spindles and that sort of craftsmanship is expensive so I’m not sure what I’ll do with them. But I’ll think of something.’
‘What about a night class? They do them at the college. I can have Leo and you can borrow my moped. All you need to do now is find one that gives you these skills. Okay?’
It made Beth smile at how quickly Petra seemed to solve her problem. ‘Okay, I’ll look into it.’
‘Good, you must do this.’ Petra squeezed her arm for emphasis. Beth couldn’t help but be touched by her support. The feeling that someone local had become a friend and was keen to offer suggestions to help her achieve her goal was heartwarming and despite everything else that was going on it made her feel calm.
Back at the cottage over a well-earned cup of tea Beth found herself searching the internet on her phone for carpentry courses. By the time she had reached the bottom of her mug she had found a local wood-turning course that ran one evening a week and was suitable for beginners. There was even a possibility that she was eligible for the concessionary price. Beth decided to join Petra on the school pick-up run to check that she really did mean it about the pink moped. Beth hadn’t ridden since university but her motorbike licence was still good and Petra said she’d let her know about insurance costs.
Beth and Petra were chatting as they passed Jack’s cottage and heard Doris’s plaintive whines and barks. Beth felt a twinge of guilt. Leo unexpectedly shoved his mother in the ribs. ‘That’s your fault, she’s shut in a cage! You’ve made her sad and I hate you!’ he shouted before running off. Petra looked sympathetic but Beth didn’t have time to comment as Leo was running at full pelt towards the road. He stopped as he reached the edge of the pavement, giving Beth time to catch up with him and escort him across.
‘Leo, we don’t push people around however cross we get.’
‘I don’t care!’ he shouted and he ran off once more, this time across the green towards the cottage. Beth rubbed her side. He had pushed into her with some force but it wasn’t that that was hurting. It was the fact that he thought it was acceptable to treat his mother that way. One more thing to loathe Nick for, she thought. She hated to see Leo upset like this; he and Doris were unfortunate victims of her self-imposed ban on Jack. She knew she was doing the right thing; she had to protect Leo, but that didn’t stop her feeling guilty for being the cause of his distress, and for that matter Doris’s.
In between arguments with Leo, Beth managed to make a phone call to the college and enrol herself on the wood-turning course. It was a brief interlude in an otherwise dreadful evening where Leo stropped about ignoring his mother while she repeatedly explained to him the importance of respecting other people.
Breakfast was frosty both inside the cottage and out. Leo’s jaw was rigid as he glowered at his porridge. Beth couldn’t help but worry about what else Leo had vicariously picked up from their time with Nick.
The walk to school was brisk, as Leo appeared keen to get away from his mother, and Denis was almost running to keep up. They were through the gates before she had a chance to say goodbye and she knew there would definitely be no backward glance from Leo today. She watched for a moment to check that he went inside and saw Jack greet Leo at the door. Leo threw himself at Jack and although the situation was awkward there was little Jack could do but let the child cling to him. All reason left Beth as she stormed across the tarmac.
‘Get away from my son!’ she said firmly in hushed tones so as not to create a scene as she tried to pull a now sobbing Leo away from Jack.
Jack put his hands up in surrender. ‘He’s upset but it’s nothing I’ve done.’
‘You fell out and now Doris is sad!’ shouted Leo as he twisted to address both the adults in turn. He rubbed roughly at his teary eyes with his coat sleeve.
‘Did we fall out?’ asked Jack.
‘Irrelevant,’ said Beth to Jack before crouching down to Leo’s level. ‘Doris is fine, isn’t she, Jack?’ Her expression willing him to reassure the child.
‘Er, oh, yeah. You know what she’s like, Leo. She sleeps most of the time.’