Now You See Her Page 0,46
amazing you were with the baby.” She looked to the now vacant spot where she and the boy had been standing, then back to Marcy. “Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale.”
“Just tired, I guess.” Marcy suddenly realized how true that statement was. “I’ve been doing a lot of walking.”
“Busy sightseeing, are you?”
“I hadn’t realized Cork was such an exciting city.”
“People are always amazed by how much there is to do here. Do you fancy a spot of tea?”
“Tea sounds wonderful.”
Shannon checked her watch. “I still have time before I have to head back. Why don’t we head over to Grogan’s?”
“Grogan’s?” Marcy felt the name stick to the roof of her mouth, like an unwieldy piece of bubblegum.
“It’s just up the way a bit, across St. Patrick’s Bridge. It has a nice outdoor patio. Makes it easier with the carriage and all.”
Marcy smiled, trying to collect all her conflicting thoughts into one place, make them more manageable. She gave up when that proved impossible. Instead she smiled even wider, revealing the two rows of perfectly straight white teeth Peter had once found so irresistible, and said, “Lead the way.”
THIRTEEN
IF LIAM WAS SURPRISED to see her, he didn’t show it. Nor did he let on that he recognized either of them.
“And how are you today, ladies?” he asked, approaching their tiny round table on the small outside patio. There were perhaps a dozen people crowded into the makeshift space, the sun throwing a circle of light, like a giant floodlight, on the wild pink rhododendrons and flirty bluebells that lined the black wrought iron enclosure.
Marcy marveled at how she’d failed to notice such magnificent flowers on any of her previous visits. Had she always been so unaware of her surroundings? “We’re good, thank you.”
“Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” he continued.
“ ’Tis,” Shannon agreed shyly. “So warm.”
“Nice change.” Marcy felt her heart flutter inside her chest and wondered whether it was her proximity to Shannon or Liam that was the cause.
Inside her carriage, Caitlin started howling.
“Unfortunately, some things never change,” whispered Shannon, glancing apologetically toward the other patrons, most of whom seemed oblivious to the baby’s wails.
“And what do we have here?” Liam peered inside the baby’s carriage. “Somebody doesn’t care much for the sun, I see.”
“Somebody doesn’t care much for anything,” Shannon said.
“Think she’d fancy a bottle of Beamish?”
The blush that accompanied Shannon’s laugh almost matched the surrounding rhododendrons. “I know I would.”
“Two Beamishes?” He looked toward Marcy for confirmation.
“I think I’d better stick with tea,” she told him.
“Make that two,” Shannon concurred quickly. “Mrs. O’Connor would have a right fit if I came home with beer on my breath. She says that Ireland is paying dearly for its drinking culture, that in the last twenty years alcohol consumption has increased by almost fifty percent and that binge drinking is assuming epic-like proportions among teenagers and young adults.”
“She says all that, does she?” Liam asked.
“She says that according to a recent survey, more than half of Ireland’s youth experiment with alcohol before the age of twelve, and that by the time they reach their mid-teens, half the girls and two-thirds of the boys are drinkers.”
“Shocking.” An amused grin played with the corners of Liam’s lips. “So, you work for the O’Connor clan over on Adelaide, do you?”
“Yes. Do you know them?” A look of apprehension suddenly clouded Shannon’s small green eyes.
“I know of them,” Liam clarified. “Who doesn’t? One of the richest families in Cork,” he explained to Marcy. “Wasn’t his father murdered by the Sinn Fein?”
“Shot and killed while on a visit to Belfast in 1986,” Shannon said quietly.
“Guess we were all pretty crazy back then,” Liam said.
Marcy thought of reminding him he would have been just a child back then but quickly thought better of it. What was the point of reminding him again of the difference in their ages?
“So, two teas and some warm milk?”
“I have a bottle of apple juice with me, thanks,” Shannon said before Liam hurried off. “Not that she’ll take it. Unless you’d like to try?” she asked Marcy hopefully.
In response, Marcy held out her arms, and Shannon quickly scooped up the crying baby and handed her to Marcy, along with her bottle.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Marcy cooed, kissing the tears from Caitlin’s wet cheeks and smoothing a few delicate wisps of reddish-yellow hair away from her forehead. “Who’s my sweet girl?” In the next instant, the baby was lying still against Marcy’s breast, suckling contentedly on her bottle.
“Bloody amazing,” Shannon marveled. “I don’t