‘She used to be a civil servant,’ Sheena continued, ‘but she gave up work when they got married. Her husband seemed lovely too. I only met him in passing once or twice, but you could tell they were very happy together. I imagine they intended to start a family, but it just never happened.’
‘I thought you said you didn’t know her,’ Lou said with a laugh. ‘Only to say hello to?’
‘Ah, you don’t know Mum’s hellos.’ Aidan grinned fondly. ‘You’ve heard of the long goodbye? Well…’
Lou laughed.
‘I really didn’t know her well, more’s the pity. I’m sorry now. I wish I could tell you more about her. But I did make a point of stopping for a chat whenever I saw her out and about in Dingle. She went to the library a lot. She was a big reader – a clever woman, I think.’
Lou nodded. ‘There are a lot of books in the cottage. Anyway, I met my neighbour the other day and she said the man who lives on the other side would have known Noreen. He’s not there at the moment because he’s just had a hip replacement, but hopefully I’ll get to meet him when he’s home.’
‘Oh, that’d be good,’ Sheena said.
‘Speaking of home, we’d better get going,’ Aidan said, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘These two have school tomorrow and I have a restaurant to run.’
‘It’s a pity you can’t stay and meet Liam, Lou – that’s my husband,’ Sheena said. ‘And Cara, our youngest. She lives here with us. But some other time.’
‘Thanks for the tea and brownies,’ Lou said as they got up to leave. ‘I don’t think we’re going to need any dinner now. I’m stuffed.’
‘You’re welcome. And you must come to dinner another night – all of you. Some Monday when the restaurant’s closed,’ she said to Lou. ‘Or come to breakfast on Sunday and you can meet the whole clan. We all try to get together then, as many of us as can make it. It’s the only time everyone tends to be free since all my children seem to have chosen jobs with unsociable, erratic hours.’
‘Thanks.’ Lou smiled awkwardly. ‘But I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family gathering.’ Plus there was the fact that Aidan would have to drive her here and back. She didn’t want him to feel he was lumbered with her. Hopefully she’d have enough money saved soon to buy a car and she could be more independent. She hated having to rely on someone else for lifts. It was great living in town, but she was quickly coming to realise that a car was a necessity for going further afield, and people here seemed to consider anywhere within a half-hour’s drive as part of their neighbourhood.
‘Nonsense! We’d all love to have you.’ Sheena followed them to the door and waved them off.
Lou stood on the gravel drive while Aidan got the children settled in the car, looking out over the sweeping ocean below. ‘This must have been an amazing place to grow up,’ she said wistfully to Aidan as she sat into the car beside him.
‘It was. We were very lucky.’ He swung the car out of the drive and headed downhill.
‘Sheena’s lovely.’
‘Yeah.’ Aidan smiled fondly. ‘You should come on Sunday.’
‘But it’s a family thing.’
‘It’s pretty much an open house. Everything with Mum is like that. When we were growing up, you never knew who youmight bump into around the table at mealtimes. There was nearly always at least one friend having a sleepover or staying for dinner. A friend of Finn’s practically lived with us for a whole year. I was starting to wonder if Mum and Dad had adopted him and were afraid to tell us.’
Lou laughed. ‘It sounds fun.’
‘Yeah.’ There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes as he glanced at her as if he’d heard all the yearning inside her in those three simple words. ‘It was great.’
At least he seemed to appreciate how lucky he’d been. It was a far cry from her chaotic childhood – ‘disrupted’ was the word her social workers had used. Her father had been an unreliable figure in her life after her mother died when Lou was eight years old and she hated to think that thanks to Rob, she was repeating the pattern with Jack. Unfortunately, that was beyond her control. But she did everything in her power to make sure his childhood would be different. He may not have grandparents or a dad he could depend on, but at least she could give him a stable home and see to it that he’d never end up in care.
She felt a momentary pang of pity for the little girl she’d been, already familiar with the world of court orders and caseworkers, in and out of care when her father couldn’t cope or had another relapse. She’d been fine at the time – tough, streetwise, able to take care of herself and handle whatever life threw at her. She’d rarely felt sorry for herself. But looking back now as an adult, there was a yawning, corrosive ache inside her for that lost child that was almost overwhelming.
