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‘Liv,’ he said as she was backing away from his bedside, a small amused smile drawing up his lips.
‘Yes?’ she said a little too eagerly, really not wanting to go, just yet.
‘I’ll see you later, so…’ He was drowsy again, drifting back to sleep, but that smile flickering about his face in a way that seemed almost like a flame dying on a candle made Liv think her heart would break if he didn’t make it out of here, even if it was to go back to the beautiful Estelle or the mysterious M.
7
Early morning, snow drifting in across the hills, and Liv was standing in the barn with her dad, large mugs of tea in their hands with the unmistakable glow of happiness in her belly. Eight more lambs born overnight. They were here when her father checked on them at five o’clock in the morning.
‘I think it could be a bumper year.’ Her father smiled in that absent way she remembered from her childhood as if his thoughts were already running back to previous seasons and he was savouring every memory.
‘How have you been, Dad, really?’ she asked him while they leant over the gate admiring the newborns.
‘Ah, sure I’ve been grand, just grand. Who could complain when I’m blessed to be among all my favourite girls for Christmas.’ He nodded towards the sheep, but she knew he meant her mother and his two daughters.
‘Are you?’
‘Of course,’ he said sipping his tea. So, she decided two could play at that game and she looked across the pen, trying not to let her worry about him show across the furrows in her brow. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘No reason.’
‘Do I look as if I’m not well?’ he was watching her now. The world of medicine, beyond the birthing of lambs and calves had never held any great interest for her father.
‘Of course you look well; as a matter of fact, you’ve never looked better.’ But the thing was, now that she knew about his recent heart scare, she was beginning to notice things. There was nothing big, but it was little things that she hadn’t spotted before. He’d shrunk, his eyes had lightened and there was no denying the fact that when he walked, it was more slowly than before.
‘Well, that’s good so.’ He sounded relieved. No harm in that. Liv knew believing you were well was half the secret to being healthy. ‘Sure, who has time to be anything but healthy with lambs on the way and the cottage to ready for another writer?’
‘Oh?’ Liv knew he was talking about the little house that her parents had inherited from her mother’s aunt. It was perched high above the sea on the way into Ballycove and her father rented it out each year to tourists. ‘Another writer?’
‘Aye, well you know the last one, Dan, he only hit the bestsellers list and now it seems we’re inundated with would-be authors knocking down the door to spend a week or two writing their masterpieces with a curlew’s view of the Atlantic.’ Dan had arrived in the worst of weather, written a hugely successful book and last Liv heard he was getting married to Lucy, the local GP.
‘But you haven’t let the cottage out for Christmas, have you?’
‘Of course, the fella as good as begged me for it.’ Her father shook his head.
‘Well, that seems like a lot to take on, especially in the middle of lambing season. When does he arrive?’
‘First thing tomorrow, but he’ll be no bother. Everything is already organised. Your mother has the place spick and span with a few provisions in the fridge and I dropped down enough turf and firelighters to keep him warm for a month if he fancies staying any longer.’
‘Well, in that case, I’ll go down and meet him; let him in and show him about the cottage.’ Not that she was sure there was a lot of showing about, but the water was finicky at the best of times and it was the least she could do to help out. ‘Will you come along to the match, later?’ she asked. It was an annual event, current players on the Ballycove Gaelic team took on anyone from previous teams who was brave enough and hopefully fit enough to tog out and turn up for the game. It was always fun and takings on the gate went to a local good cause each year.
‘Ah, I think I’ll give it a miss this year. It won’t be the same indoors.’ He looked out through the small pane of glass that served as the only window in the shed. The snow was falling thick and fast outside now.
*
He was right. The local community hall had been cleared out and the usual game of Gaelic had to be played as soccer this year, with five-a-side teams turning out for three shorter sessions. Maya had come along since her firm was sponsoring the game. Eddie had been sent off for fouling another player in the first fifteen minutes, which probably suited him because he was already well out of puff. It was unlikely he’d have made it to the end anyway.
‘I swear, all of those young fellas are working out,’ he panted.
‘Go on, that makes you sound as if you’re as old as the church clock.’ Maya shoved him in the ribs.
‘Well, I’m not, but I hardly have the time or the money to join a fancy gym when I’m trying to keep body and soul together in the city.’ He huffed and Liv wished he hadn’t because it was always a sore point with Maya, the fact that on the one hand everyone heard how successful he was, while on the other he never seemed to have enough money to pay his bills. Maya never called him a freeloader, but that was because she didn’t want to upset Liv.
‘Oh, there’s Anya,’ Liv said spotting the willowy blonde standing at the door across from them.
‘Hmm, wonder what she’s doing here?’ Maya said, because there was none of her old gang about. They were much more likely to be recovering from yesterday’s hunt. ‘She looks a bit lost; I don’t ever remember any of her old cronies turning up for the charity match before…’ She looked at Eddie who might have some idea of who’d be togging out for the day.
‘How would I bloody know?’ he grunted before flopping back on the bench.
