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offered.
‘You’ll meet the lot of us, then,’ Johnny added.
‘But are you ready for the lot of us?’ interjected Ryan, shaking his curly red head.
‘I’m ready now, aren’t I? And there are a lot of you here.’ She laughed.
‘You’ll be just grand, pet,’ Peg reassured her, patting her shoulder as she leaned down to take her empty porridge bowl away. ‘You see, porridge was all you needed to put
the colour back in your cheeks.’
‘So how is Maddie?’ Desmond asked, leaning back in his chair. The room fell silent and the awkwardness descended over them again like a heavy cloud. His brothers looked at one
another uneasily but Desmond didn’t flinch. He didn’t look like the sort of man who cared too much about being tactful.
‘She’s very well,’ Ellen replied casually.
‘What does she make of you being here in the motherland with us?’ Johnny asked, rubbing his beard nervously.
‘She doesn’t know she’s here,’ Peg answered for her. The men stared harder.
‘She doesn’t know you’re here?’ Ryan repeated. ‘Where the hell does she think you are, then?’
‘In the English countryside, somewhere, trying to write a novel.’
‘You’re a writer, are you?’ said Joe. ‘That’s grand.’
‘
Trying
to be a writer, would be more accurate,’ Ellen said with a sniff, as if it really wasn’t very important whether she became one or not.
‘What do you write about?’ Joe asked.
‘Novels, you know, mystery, relationships, life,’ she replied importantly. ‘Oswald told me about the castle. That sounds like a good place to base a book.’
‘You can come with me and Joe today, if you like. We work up there. I’m estate manager and Joe just smokes and watches,’ said Johnny with a chuckle. ‘The idle
gobshite!’
‘Yes, let’s humour the old man,’ Joe retorted, rolling his eyes. ‘Let him think he’s doing it all on his own.’ He turned back to Ellen. ‘There are
plenty of ghosts up there for you to write about.’
‘Don’t listen to him, pet. The only ghosts are those two fooling about after a heavy night in the Pot of Gold,’ Peg interjected.
‘There’s not a lot for them to do up there, I don’t imagine,’ Ryan added. ‘The castle is locked up and Mr Macausland’s in Dublin most of the time. If they sat
having a picnic all day no one would know or care.’
‘So, if your mam doesn’t know you’re here, how did you find us?’ Desmond brought the subject back to Ellen, his gaze steady and penetrating.
‘From Aunt Peg’s letters and Christmas cards that Mother keeps in a drawer. I thought Aunt Peg was her only sibling. I didn’t know she had four brothers.’
‘That’ll be for sure,’ Desmond muttered. ‘And what’ll you tell her?’
Ellen shrugged noncommittally. ‘I’m not going to tell her anything. What the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve for. She doesn’t need to know I’ve found
you.’ She lowered her eyes because she sensed Aunt Peg saw through her facade. The older woman was watching her pensively from the Stanley. Her story was gaping with missing information that
Ellen didn’t feel ready to share, but a guilty blush warmed her cheeks because she knew Aunt Peg must suspect now that she had run away.
‘I’d love to see the castle,’ she said, longing to extricate herself. She didn’t want to talk about her mother any more. She didn’t like the feeling of being
interrogated, especially when she was hiding so much.
‘Well, there’s no time like the present,’ said Johnny, pushing out his chair. ‘Thanks for breakfast, Peg.’
‘Don’t you all come to my door tomorrow expecting another fry-up, now will you?’
‘Too late, Peggine.’ Joe laughed. ‘It’s a grand way to start the day.’
‘You’re like a pack of dogs,’ Peg retorted. ‘Off with you all now. I’ve work to do.’
‘How’s that squirrel?’ Craic asked.
‘Hibernating. And he’s called Reilly, by the way.’
‘You’re
‘You’ll meet the lot of us, then,’ Johnny added.
‘But are you ready for the lot of us?’ interjected Ryan, shaking his curly red head.
‘I’m ready now, aren’t I? And there are a lot of you here.’ She laughed.
‘You’ll be just grand, pet,’ Peg reassured her, patting her shoulder as she leaned down to take her empty porridge bowl away. ‘You see, porridge was all you needed to put
the colour back in your cheeks.’
‘So how is Maddie?’ Desmond asked, leaning back in his chair. The room fell silent and the awkwardness descended over them again like a heavy cloud. His brothers looked at one
another uneasily but Desmond didn’t flinch. He didn’t look like the sort of man who cared too much about being tactful.
‘She’s very well,’ Ellen replied casually.
‘What does she make of you being here in the motherland with us?’ Johnny asked, rubbing his beard nervously.
‘She doesn’t know she’s here,’ Peg answered for her. The men stared harder.
‘She doesn’t know you’re here?’ Ryan repeated. ‘Where the hell does she think you are, then?’
‘In the English countryside, somewhere, trying to write a novel.’
‘You’re a writer, are you?’ said Joe. ‘That’s grand.’
‘
Trying
to be a writer, would be more accurate,’ Ellen said with a sniff, as if it really wasn’t very important whether she became one or not.
‘What do you write about?’ Joe asked.
‘Novels, you know, mystery, relationships, life,’ she replied importantly. ‘Oswald told me about the castle. That sounds like a good place to base a book.’
‘You can come with me and Joe today, if you like. We work up there. I’m estate manager and Joe just smokes and watches,’ said Johnny with a chuckle. ‘The idle
gobshite!’
‘Yes, let’s humour the old man,’ Joe retorted, rolling his eyes. ‘Let him think he’s doing it all on his own.’ He turned back to Ellen. ‘There are
plenty of ghosts up there for you to write about.’
‘Don’t listen to him, pet. The only ghosts are those two fooling about after a heavy night in the Pot of Gold,’ Peg interjected.
‘There’s not a lot for them to do up there, I don’t imagine,’ Ryan added. ‘The castle is locked up and Mr Macausland’s in Dublin most of the time. If they sat
having a picnic all day no one would know or care.’
‘So, if your mam doesn’t know you’re here, how did you find us?’ Desmond brought the subject back to Ellen, his gaze steady and penetrating.
‘From Aunt Peg’s letters and Christmas cards that Mother keeps in a drawer. I thought Aunt Peg was her only sibling. I didn’t know she had four brothers.’
‘That’ll be for sure,’ Desmond muttered. ‘And what’ll you tell her?’
Ellen shrugged noncommittally. ‘I’m not going to tell her anything. What the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve for. She doesn’t need to know I’ve found
you.’ She lowered her eyes because she sensed Aunt Peg saw through her facade. The older woman was watching her pensively from the Stanley. Her story was gaping with missing information that
Ellen didn’t feel ready to share, but a guilty blush warmed her cheeks because she knew Aunt Peg must suspect now that she had run away.
‘I’d love to see the castle,’ she said, longing to extricate herself. She didn’t want to talk about her mother any more. She didn’t like the feeling of being
interrogated, especially when she was hiding so much.
‘Well, there’s no time like the present,’ said Johnny, pushing out his chair. ‘Thanks for breakfast, Peg.’
‘Don’t you all come to my door tomorrow expecting another fry-up, now will you?’
‘Too late, Peggine.’ Joe laughed. ‘It’s a grand way to start the day.’
‘You’re like a pack of dogs,’ Peg retorted. ‘Off with you all now. I’ve work to do.’
‘How’s that squirrel?’ Craic asked.
‘Hibernating. And he’s called Reilly, by the way.’
‘You’re
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