this awful wallpaper for a start—but we’ll just have to take it one step at a time. How are the muffins? They any good?”
“Delicious,” Liam said.
“We still haven’t quite got the hang of the oven. It’s very temperamental. Isn’t it, Audrey?”
Audrey nodded. “It’s a right pain,” she said, tucking some hair behind her right ear and staring at Marcy. “You haven’t touched anything.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcy said, pushing the reluctant words from her mouth. Her throat was so dry, it hurt to speak, let alone eat.
“Don’t like cranberries?” Claire asked.
“No, I love cranberries.”
“Course, they’re frozen. But that’s all right. Can’t have everything fresh. Especially in this part of the world.” Claire took a big bite of her muffin, followed by a sip of her tea. “How’s the tea?” she asked.
“Perfect,” Liam said.
Were they really talking about tea and cranberries? Marcy wondered, lifting her steaming mug to her lips and forcing herself to take a sip. The hot liquid raced down her throat as if someone had taken a match to a fuse. I’m on fire, she thought. Any second now, I’m going to implode.
“So, you like to cook, do you?” Liam asked, seemingly determined to keep the inane conversation going.
“Well, I do,” Claire answered, reaching over to give Audrey an affectionate cuff on the side of her head. “Can’t say the same for this one here.”
“Hey, watch it there,” Audrey said, grabbing Claire’s hand and holding it.
Marcy felt her eyes widen and she tried to look away. But it was too late. Audrey had already taken note of her response.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Marcy shrugged, as if to say, No, of course not. Anything you choose to do is fine with me.
“A few of the neighbors got their noses out of joint when we first moved in,” Audrey said with a laugh. “Afraid we’d turn all their daughters into raving lesbos.”
“Yeah, but they’ve more or less all come around.”
“Claire won them over with her muffins,” Audrey said, beaming.
“Guess you’ve got to expect that sort of thing in a town the size of Youghal,” Claire said.
“What made you settle here?” Liam asked.
Both women sighed. “Don’t know, really,” Claire answered for both of them. “I was working in a bakery in Dublin. Audrey was a teller in a bank.”
“Which I hated,” Audrey interjected.
“We came here on a holiday about a year ago, decided we liked the look of the place, thought we’d give it a go.”
“Thought we might be able to save some money, open up a bakery of our own one day.” Audrey twisted her head around to smile at Claire.
“It’ll happen,” Claire said. “You’ll see.”
“Well, your muffins really are delicious.” Liam motioned toward the tray on the coffee table. “Do you mind if I have another?”
“Please, help yourself.”
What’s he doing? Marcy wondered. Why are we prolonging this agony? Haven’t we made enough small talk for one afternoon? Can’t we just get out of here?
“So, what made you think my Audrey might be your daughter?” Claire asked, as if sensing Marcy’s restlessness.
Tears immediately filled Marcy’s eyes and she bit into her muffin to muffle the sob that was building in her throat.
“I’m afraid that was my fault,” Liam said.
“It’s nobody’s fault,” Marcy told him.
“We were acting on my information.”
“You were told a young woman matching Devon’s description lived here and that her name was Audrey.” Marcy took a deep breath, turning her attention back to the two young women, both of whom had been watching their exchange with unsuppressed curiosity. “My daughter disappeared about two years ago,” she explained. “Liam has been kind enough to help me look for her. We thought we might have found her.”
“That’s why you fainted when you saw me?” Audrey asked.
“Liam warned me not to get my hopes up,” Marcy said. “He said I should be prepared you might not be Devon, but I …”
“You couldn’t help it,” Claire said with obvious sympathy.
“I couldn’t help it,” Marcy agreed. I couldn’t help so many things, she thought.
“Do I look like her at all?” Audrey asked.
“Superficially, yes, I guess so. You’re about the same age, same height, same long, brown hair.”
“There’s a lot of girls with long brown hair.”
“Yes, there are.”
“Not all named Audrey, though,” Liam said.
“You must be horribly disappointed,” Claire said.
“I’m getting used to it,” Marcy told her.
“What happened to her?” Audrey asked. “Your daughter, I mean. She just wandered off one day?”
“Something like that,” Marcy told her, not wanting to get into the particulars.
“You have a fight or something?” Audrey pressed her, not willing to let it