Read Online Breakfast at Darcy's by Ali McNamara - Free Book Online Page A

thought you said the island was uninhabited?’
    Niall shrugs and holds out his hands.
    ‘That it is,’ Conor calls from the helm of the boat again. ‘Tara is what us locals call her. Glentara is the island’s proper
     name, and Tara is like a nickname.’
    ‘Oh, right, so no one actually lives there?’
    ‘No one but old Eamon.’
    ‘Eamon?’
    ‘He’s been on the island for years; he’s like part of the landscape, is Eamon – you’ll never get him off.’
    ‘I believe he’s a sort of caretaker,’ Niall explains. ‘I think your aunt paid him to look after the island.’
    Conor laughs. ‘I’d like to have seen her try and get him away from it.’
    We’re getting closer to land now, so I lean back against the sides of the boat to get a better view of the approaching island.
     As always, the wind has been playing havoc with my hair since before we left the shore. I’d been sensible enough to tie it
     back in a band before leaving the harbour, but even so I still have stray bits flying all around my face as I try to take
     a closer look at the place I’m expected to call home for the next year.
    At first sight, it’s much larger than I thought it would be – the internet said 1,100 acres – though I’m not really sure how
     big an acre actually is. And as we sail still closer, I have to admit the island does look quite pretty, silently watching
     us approach in our little red boat. I can see crumbling buildings dotted up on the side of one of the hills, and as we near
     land and I can begin to appreciate all the varied colours of the island’slandscape, I’m suddenly reminded of an Irish country song, ‘Forty Shades of Green’ my aunt used to play on the old record
     player in her house.
    As we pull into a makeshift harbour, and I watch Conor leap effortlessly off the boat clutching a rope, something weird stirs
     inside me. It’s almost like another memory, but I don’t know what it is I’m trying to remember.
    ‘So how long will you be wanting on the island?’ Conor asks, tying the rope securely to a rickety-looking wooden platform.
    I’m about to say that half an hour will give me time enough to scatter Molly’s ashes, when I hear Niall say two hours.
Two whole hours!
The trip over in the boat was cold enough, but at least I’d had the life jacket on to keep me a bit warmer. Now as I unzip
     that and leave it behind in the boat, the wind that is blowing in off the sea is biting right into me. I could do with a nice
     caramel macchiato to warm me up. But I doubt they’d have much call for a Starbucks around here.
    ‘You’ll be a bit warmer once you get away from the water,’ Conor says, reading my mind. ‘That wind’s coming in right off the
     sea just now. The sun will be out in about fifteen minutes – she’ll soon warm you up.’
    I look up at the sky, but I can see only dense grey cloud. No hopeful breaks appear in it at all to suggest that there might
     be some sunshine up there to warm us up at any time today, let alone in the next quarter of an hour.
    I zip my Nike puffa jacket all the way to the top, wishing now I’d worn my Burberry earmuffs, or even that fake-fur hat I
     can never find an occasion to wear.
    Conor appears to be the only one of the boat party notfeeling the cold. As he unzips his life jacket he remains in his jeans, boots and thick Aran sweater. ‘I’ll meet you back
     here at about one o’clock, then?’ he says, glancing at his watch.
    ‘Cheers, Conor,’ Niall replies. ‘That’ll be grand.’
    ‘So this is it?’ Dermot slowly turns around as I watch Conor disappear over a hill, a fishing rod slung over his shoulder.
     ‘Where do you want to start, Darcy?’
    ‘I’m not sure … what about this way?’ It all looks the same to me at the moment. After I’d talked myself into visiting the
     island, I’d got my hopes up that once I arrived I’d completely fall in love with the place, know exactly why Molly wanted
     me to come here and never want