peaceful sound. There are a lot of birds’ nests in the forest at the end of the garden, so we’re never without this treat.
In the city, the only time I heard a bird sing was early in the morning, very early before any buses or cars or commuters showed up to provide the soundtrack to the day. Now, I can hear them all day long and it relaxes me.
After about twenty minutes, Shay decides I’ve rested for long enough. His soft cry breaks through the calm. Dragging my head off the cushion, I go to him and pick him up. Shay wants food. I put the bottle in the heater and switch it on.
Outside, I notice the sun has retreated behind the clouds. I also notice smoke drifting above the forest trees. Pat is back.
Chapter Fifty-One
Maggie arrives at the house with an enthusiasm that I’ve often wished for. She walks past me with her head held high. Even with all the spraying and mopping that went on earlier, I can still get a faint smell of stale beer in the air.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s over,’ she sighs, dropping her handbag on the counter.
‘I can’t thank you enough, Maggie. I’d never have been able to do it at such short notice.’ With the kettle in my hand, I walk to the tap.
‘The cleaners did a good job,’ she says, glancing around the room while taking her place on a stool at the counter.
‘Coffee or tea?’ I say.
‘Tea would be lovely and if you have any of the cake left…’
The white box sits open on the countertop. The remains of the christening cake, which looks like it was cut with bare hands, are inside.
‘I do.’ I cut Maggie a slice of cake and think to myself that the cake would be a great excuse to go and see Pat. I need to talk to that man.
‘I’ll drop a piece down to Pat while you’re here,’ I say.
‘Oh, where was Pat yesterday? I’m only noticing his absence now,’ Maggie says.
‘He was away for a few days.’
‘Away? Pat? Where would he have to go?’
Resting the plate on the counter beside the teacup I leave the question hanging in the air.
‘I thought he only left that cottage to go to the pub,’ Maggie says, before putting a piece of cake in her mouth.
‘Does he never go away for a break?’ I say.
Maggie hurries to swallow the cake so she can elaborate. ‘No, it’s Mass on a Sunday and the pub every day of the week.’ She breaks another piece off the slice and lifts it, but before she puts it in her mouth, I ask: ‘Did Vicky ever mention Pat to you?’
‘Me?’ Maggie straightens her head and looks at me. ‘Why would she say anything to me?’
‘Oh I just thought she might have mentioned him when you met her in the graveyard that day.’ With my back to Maggie, I clench my teeth. She’s not going to like me mentioning that again, but I need to shake every tree if I’m to find out what’s going on. Maggie doesn’t take the bait. Silence.
Wrapping a slice of cake in tinfoil, I place it on the counter, letting the silence linger. After a few minutes Maggie coughs, then immediately begins to talk about the party again like I’d never mentioned Vicky Murphy. She moves over to look at the presents, continuing to talk non-stop so I don’t get the opportunity to return the conversation to where I left off.
Eventually she asks me some questions, wanting to know who gave what gifts. Especially which ones were from her closest friends. Thankfully I have it all written down and ready for her. Maggie is impressed. She nods her approval, taking the list from my hands. This is my opportunity to go down to Pat.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to see Pat again. Which worried me because I want to tell him he made a mistake. Conor left the house to switch the alarm off in the brewery. Conor will be so happy with me for clearing it up with Pat.
‘Do you mind hanging on here while I drop this down to Pat?’ I say, lifting the foil-wrapped piece of cake in my hand.
‘No, not at all, you fire away. I’ll keep my eye on Shay.’
Maggie walks over to the crib and looks in at her grandson.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I’ll only be a minute.’
‘I’m not in any hurry, Laura, I could stand and watch this