Straight Up Page 3

  That trip had been seven years ago. As for Nora, she returned home only once a year. To her credit, she had flown their parents to London to see her every fall, but like Aislinn, they didn't care much for city life. “Don't feel like I can breathe there,” her father always said when he got home.

  God, those three days of their wake. Even now, the memories felt surreal to Aislinn, the blur of mourners, their voices sympathetic yet indistinct. Condolences and casserole after casserole appearing in the kitchen. The overpowering scent of flower arrangements. The heart-breaking, lost look on Padraig's face. Sadness interspersed with toasts of whiskey and fond reminiscences.

  She had to admit, she was glad Nora was there. She was an immense help, and it was the closest Aislinn had ever felt to her. Her sister stayed for a whole week, the two of them staying up nights talking, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. Nora offered to stay longer, but Aislinn didn't see the point. They both had to get back to their own lives.

  That was six months ago. Since then, they had talked on the phone a bit more than in previous years. And now Nora was coming for a prolonged visit, without Donald, thank God. What would she do all day while Aislinn worked the farm? God knew, Nora's notion of hell was being out in the fields shepherding.

  “I wonder what she'll do with her days," Padraig mused as if he read Aislinn's thoughts. She says she'll be working on her article.

  “She can help clean the house, I suppose.”

  Aislinn laughed loudly. “You must be joking! Mum was always after her to keep her room tidy, and Nora turned a deaf ear. Her bedroom always looked like a rubbish tip.”

  “Does she not keep a clean house?”

  “She's got someone who comes in weekly.”

  “Well, la-di-da,” said Padraig. “We could send her into town on errands. Or into Moneygall to that big supermarket.”

  Aislinn bit into a stale tea biscuit. “Let's see what the lay of the land is first before we start telling her what to do.”

  “Too right.” Padraig reached for a biscuit. “Well, it'll be interesting having her about.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.”

  Straight Up

  Chapter Three

  ************************************************************************************************

  “I hear you're wooing the McCafferty.”

  There was no mistaking the amused glint in his uncle Paul's eyes as he passed Liam the plate of streaky bacon and sausages. Since Liam was the one responsible for opening the pub at twelve thirty on Sunday, he usually stopped by his aunt and uncle's house for breakfast on Sunday mornings, especially since he knew his cousins Erin and Brian would be there, too. It was a chance for everyone to catch up.

  Liam speared a piece of sausage. “Who told you?” Jack, of course.

  “Actually, it's the talk of the town.” said his cousin Erin. She paused thoughtfully. “I like the McCafferty.”

  “Do you?” her mother asked, intrigued. “And why's that?”

  “I was at school with her, remember? And she was always very nice to me. I always felt bad for her, with those stupid eejits Teague, Fergus, and David giving her stick all the time. She gave it back to them good, though, I'll give her that.”

  Aunt Bridget poured herself a cup of tea. “You have to admit, it's a bit odd she always wanted to be a shepherd.”

  “Not odd at all.” Erin maintained. “What are you, Ma, in the Dark Ages? Women can do what they like.”

  “She's right, Ma.” Brian chimed in. “And I think it's great the farm is staying in the family.”

  “She's going to have to get some help up there soon, though, I hear,” said Uncle Paul, shaking his head sadly. “I hear Padraig's losing his wits.”

  “He does seem a bit forgetful,” said Liam.

  His aunt raised an eyebrow. “And how would we know that?”

  “I was up there yesterday -”

  “You were up there yesterday?“ Erin interrupted with a splutter. ”Did Aislinn invite you?"

  “Of course not.

  “Did she bite your head off, then?” Uncle Paul asked.

  “Basically,” Liam said nonchalantly. “But I'm sure she'll come around in time.”

  “Right, and the Second Coming is nigh,” Brian said dryly.

  “What was her fiancé like?” Liam continued casually.

  Erin sighed dreamily. “He was dead sweet. And good-looking, too. They were a very striking couple.”

  Liam was irritated. “Really.”

  “And he worshipped the ground she walked on,” added Aunt Bridget.

  “Too bad he didn't worship her enough to tell her the truth about himself before humiliating her in front of the whole town,” Liam pointed out.

  “He was a tormented soul,” Uncle Paul said sympathetically.

  And now she is.

  “What's your strategy going to be, then?” Brian asked eagerly. “Overpower her with your natural charm and good looks?”

  “Do I detect a note of sarcasm?” Liam asked. “Never.” He and Liam laughed. “Seriously,” said Erin. wide-eyed with curiosity as she gulped her tea. “How on earth do you plan to win her over?” “I have my ways,” Liam said with a wink. “You're gonna need supernatural powers with that one,” said Uncle Paul, gobbling down a piece of sausage. “Nope,” Liam said confidently. “Mark my words. It's gonna happen. Just wait and see.”

  *****

  Aislinn sat at the nicked old Parsons table in the kitchen, anxiously drumming her fingers as she waited for Nora's cab to arrive. Aislinn had offered to pick her sister up at the airport, but Nora claimed Aislinn drove like a mad-woman, and she didn't want to take her own life in her hands. Aislinn disagreed, but she was in no mood to dispute her sister. Better to let Nora do things the way she wanted, at least at first.

  Though Aislinn knew it would probably go unnoticed, she'd cleaned the house from top to bottom. She made sure there were fresh sheets on Nora's bed, fresh soap and towels in the loo, and had even taken the time to pick some wildflowers to put in a vase on her dresser. Nora told her not to bother with supper, so she hadn't, though the refrigerator was stocked just in case she changed her mind.

  Aislinn had no idea how long Nora was planning to visit, and she found that unnerving. She had her own way of running the household, and Nora could be a real bossy boots. She wondered if Nora wasn't having troubles in her marriage and that's why she was really coming, to get some distance from Donald so she could sort things out. Well, she'd find out soon enough.

  She heard the cab pull up and got up from the table to peek out from behind the curtain for a moment before backing away. What are you, a sheltered bumpkin, she chided herself, acting like you've never seen a bloody car pull up in the drive?

  She heard the door to the mudroom open and smiled to herself. Only company came through the front door.

  “Hello? Aislinn?” Nora called out.

  “In the kitchen, as if you didn't know.” Aislinn was still smiling, feeling more excited than she'd been giving herself credit for. It took all her might to hang on to it, however, when Nora appeared with the cabdriver behind her, cursing and muttering to himself as he hauled in two large suitcases and put them down on the floor with a grunt. “I'll just go get the others, missus.”

  “Wow,” said Aislinn uneasily, eyeing the bags. “There's probably enough in there to clothe the whole town!”

  Nora laughed lightly. “Some of it's books. And my laptop. Don't think I've forgotten how changeable the weather can be here. I've brought enough clothing to cover every season.”

  The cabbie lurched back inside, depositing the final two bags on the kitchen floor. Nora handed him a wad of bills. “Keep the change.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Have a nice evening, ladies.”

  “You, too,” said Aislinn. She turned to her sister, licking her lips nervously. “So.” So I'm here!

  “Yes.” Aislinn embraced her and found herself enveloped in a cloud of perf
ume. She fought not to cough as she asked, “How was your flight?”

  “Oh, you know, short,” said Nora, peeling off her very stylish black leather trench coat. She looked around the kitchen. "Where's Deenie?

  “She got too tired to wait up for you and went to bed,” Aislinn teased.

  Nora hung up her coat on the back of the mudroom door, flinging her arms open wide. “It's so nice to be home!”

  This is my home now not yours, Aislinn thought possessively. As always, Nora was exquisitely put together: lovely tan trousers, a deep burgundy cashmere sweater, gold earrings, and flawless makeup. Her black hair was chic and short. Aislinn wondered if Nora was going to dress like that every day. It made little sense if you lived on a farm.

  “Do you want some tea?”

  “Of course.”

  “I do have coffee if you'd prefer.”

  “I'm in the mood for tea, thanks.”

  “Tea it is.”

  Nora sat down, an elbow on the table as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Catch me up on all the Ballycraig gossip.”

  “Padraig's slipping a bit, Teague Daly is still a great, lazy lummox, Erin O'Brien is going to university online, and there's a Yank working at the Oak who claims to be on the lam from the Irish Mob in New York. He's a royal eejit.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Full of himself. All the women in town are gaga over him; they think he's some kind of sexy outlaw or something.”

  “But you haven't succumbed to his charm?” Nora asked dryly.

  “I've no use for him. Like I said, full of himself, and thick as two short planks. We didn't get on too well the first time we met the other night. So he comes up here yesterday to apologize and then asks if he can help me mend the fences. As if he knows a damn thing about mending fences!”

  “You're the one who's thick as two short planks. Aislinn.”

  Aislinn sniffed. “Oh? And why would that be?”

  “He obviously fancies you. Why else would he make a special effort to come up here?”

  “He's an eejit, like I said.” She put the kettle on the stove and spooned some loose tea into the pot. “Even if he does fancy me, fat lot of good it's going to do him.”

  “Aislinn,” Nora said carefully. “Have you dated anyone since -”

  “No. That's the last thing I'm interested in.”

  “But maybe it's time,” Nora wheedled gently. “It might be good for you -”

  “Listen here, Nora McCafferty,” Aislinn chided affectionately, “I know you're just trying to be helpful, but you cannot come marching in here and within two minutes start giving me advice about how to live my life. I'm a big girl.”

  “It just seems obvious to me -”

  “Leave off, okay?”

  Nora held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it. You sure I can't get you anything to eat?”

  “I'm fine. Food's the last thing I need! Look how fat I am!”

  Aislinn looked at her sister like she was mad. “You're crazy. You're an assless wonder.”

  Nora laughed. “Unfortunately, I'm not a tummyless wonder. Or a thighless wonder.”

  Aislinn shrugged. “You look fine to me.”

  “You're the one who looks skinny,” Nora noted with a thin strain of envy in her voice.

  "I'm all right. Probably from working the farm and riding my bike around when I can. I've no need of a gym.

  “Speaking of the farm, you said Padraig is slipping a bit?”

  “Just a bit,” Aislinn said defensively.

  “Maybe you should encourage him to retire.”

  “Not yet.”

  “But -”

  “There you go again, offering up suggestions when you haven't lived here in years,” Aislinn said, trying to keep her tone light. “Leave Padraig to me. all right?”

  I know you. You'll never let him go.

  Aislinn said nothing as she poured the boiling water from the kettle into the teapot. “How long are you staying for?”

  “I'm leaving it open-ended. If that's all right with you.”

  “Of course it is,” Aislinn lied. She turned around to face Nora. “I hope you don't think I'm prying, but I can't help but wonder: have you come here to take a break from Donald? Are you two having problems?”

  “God, no,” said Nora, looking shocked that Aislinn could even suggest such a thing. “I wanted to see you, and I wanted a change of scenery while I worked on my article. I figured it might help jolt the creative process, you know?”

  “I don't know anything about creativity, but I'll take your word for it.”

  “Donald will pop over on the occasional weekend,” Nora continued.

  Feck thought Aislinn. “What's your article about?” she asked.

  “Economic development in South Africa.”

  “You should pop up to Dublin one day and see if you can talk to Saint Bono. God knows he never shuts his yap when it comes to that subject.”

  Nora laughed. “True.” She sighed. “Probably sounds boring to you.”

  “Yup,” said Aislinn. "But I imagine deworming the ewes after their lambs are born sounds boring to you.

  Nora shuddered. “Boring and awful.”

  Aislinn took the tea strainer and poured it into the first mug. “I take it you've no intention of helping me and Padraig around the farm, then? She saw the flash of terror in Nora s eyes and burst out laughing. ”I'm kiddingl"

  Nora looked relieved. “Thank God.”

  “You'll just stay in the house and write?” Aislinn asked, pouring a cup of tea for herself.

  “Pretty much. I might head up to Dublin a few times to use the library at Trinity. You could come along if you like. You could sightsee while I work.”

  “No thank you.” Aislinn handed a mug of tea to her sister. “I might put you to work around here in some way, just so you know.”

  “Oh yes? Do tell.”

  “Maybe run errands sometimes. Cook the occasional meal.”

  “I can handle that.” Nora took a sip of tea. “Perfect, as always.” She looked amused. “I'm not totally averse to being outside, you know! I haven't walked the whole property in a long time. Maybe we could do that one afternoon.”

  That would be nice.

  “And I'd like to go with you to the Royal Oak to check out this Yank who's got the hots for my baby sister.”

  “Put a sock in it, please.”

  “It's going to feel odd, being back for a prolonged period of time.”

  “You'll get used to it soon enough,” said Aislinn, more to assure herself than Nora.

  "I hope so.

  Straight Up

  Chapter Four

  ************************************************************************************************

  “That was bloody hair-raising. You're as bad as every other driver in this country.”

  Aislinn shot Nora a dirty look as they walked into the pub with Padraig. They'd driven in Aislinn's truck, the three of them crushed into the front seat. Padraig had wanted to drive, but Aislinn wouldn't let him. He tended to turn his head to look at you when he talked, taking his eyes off the road for long periods of time. Aislinn had no desire to find herself in a ditch.

  Nora had been at the farm a week, and so far, so good. She wasn't getting underfoot, and really, the only time she plucked on Aislinn's nerves was when she complained about having to drive all the way into Moneygall to shop. She came home moaning about all the things she couldn't find, like sun-dried tomatoes, bruschetta, and fresh pasta. “You're not in London anymore,” Aislinn reminded her patiently. Can't get bloody bruschetta. Boo-hoo. Aislinn thought.

  “My driving is fine,” Aislinn insisted as she held the door open, preparing for the onslaught. The locals would be surrounding Nora to welcome her back to Ballycraig, even though all of them knew that when she'd left years ago, she'd termed it an “escape.”

  “God, this place never changes,”
Nora marveled as they stepped inside. Padraig didn't even bother to take his coat off as he made a beeline to the bar. Aislinn's eyes cut surreptitiously to the left: of course the Yank was there, along with the Holy Trinity of Arseholes, raising their glasses high when they spotted Nora.

  “Hail the returning queen!” said Fergus.

  “We hear you're back in town for a good while,” said David. “What happened? Lose all your money in the stock market?”

  Nora just rolled her eyes. “They never change, either, I see,” she said to Aislinn.

  “No, they don't.”

  A thick throng of people soon surrounded them, welcoming Nora warmly. Aislinn nodded her acknowledgment when they also greeted her, all so polite, their expressions a mix of pity and unease. The pity really irritated her. As for the unease, she had to admit she enjoyed that just a teeny bit. It was nice to control something - even if it was people's perception that she was fearsome.

  Aislinn was dressed more formally than the last time she'd been here - not on purpose, but because she'd finished around the farm with a little time to spare. She'd pulled her hair back in a loose braid and had donned freshly pressed jeans, a simple blue V-neck T-shirt, and her Frye boots. Nora, of course, was dressed to the teeth. She looked completely out of place. She was completely out of place.

  Nora nudged Aislinn discreetly in the ribs. “That the Yank?” she whispered, glancing at the bar.

  “Who else would it be?”

  “Good-looking man.”

  “Too bad he knows it.”

  “Let's go over and get a drink.”

  Together, the two sisters sidled through the thick, boisterous crowd. The musicians were already playing by the roaring fire, well into “The Foggy Dew.” By the time they got to “The Wind That Shakes the Barley,” there wouldn't be a dry eye in the house. Aislinn herself felt the prick of hot tears at the corners of her eyes just thinking about it: it had been one of her father's favorite tunes.