Bring Her Home by S.A. Dunphy

Author:S.A. Dunphy [Dunphy, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-03T00:00:00+00:00

29

Katie Keneally lived in a two-up two-down house on Fisher’s Row, a narrow street that ran towards the waterfront off New Street, right in the centre of Cahirsiveen. Jessie found the place without any trouble.

Seamus opened the door at her knock, dressed in a Kerry Gaelic football T-shirt and baggy jeans, his hair wet from the shower.

‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ he said, taking from her the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc she’d bought on the way before giving her a quick hug, which to Jessie’s surprise didn’t feel as awkward as she might have expected.

‘Bring Jessie through to the living room, Seamus,’ Katie called from inside. ‘And get her a drink before she dies of thirst.’

‘Hello, Katie,’ Jessie shouted past Seamus’s shoulder. ‘Something smells good!’

‘Your own mother has you well trained,’ Katie said. ‘Now, you are the guest of honour, so please take a seat and we’ll have you fed in a few moments.’

Seamus showed her to a tiny living room, where a table had been set by the window. A small suite of furniture was at the other end, beside a door leading to a well-appointed kitchen, where Katie was busy plating up.

‘Do you want a glass of what you’ve brought, or can I offer you something stronger?’ Seamus asked Jessie as he indicated an armchair for her to sit.

‘Do you have any whiskey?’

‘A woman after my own heart. Scotch or Irish?’

‘Surprise me.’

He came back with a glass of Famous Grouse for each of them.

‘Sláinte,’ he said, offering her the traditional Irish toast that means ‘to your health’.

‘Right back at you, partner,’ she said. ‘We lead, others follow, so let’s not fuck it up.’

Seamus laughed. ‘I don’t know that one.’

‘It’s a toast we used to use at the Met.’

‘I like it.’

‘Tá an dinnéar réidh,’ Katie said as she came bustling in, carrying a tray so laden with plates Jessie marvelled she could carry it at all.

‘That means dinner is ready,’ Seamus said.

‘I did know that,’ Jessie said. ‘But even if I didn’t, I think I could have worked it out from the context.’

‘When we’re alone, Mammy and me, we speak only Irish to one another,’ Seamus explained as they got up and went to the table. ‘When we have guests, we use English—’

‘But sometimes we forget, and a cúpla focal – a couple of words – slip out,’ Katie cut in. ‘Now stop yapping, the pair of you, and dig in!’

The meal was a simple roast dinner with all the trimmings: beef cooked to just the right degree of pinkness, crisp potatoes that had been roasted with rosemary-infused goose fat, carrots and green beans that were still al dente, Yorkshire puddings with a gorgeous crust, but still perfectly fluffy inside, and gravy made from the meat juices that sang in savoury notes on the tongue. Jessie hadn’t had a meal like it in several years and found herself gorging. Seamus, as was his custom, cleaned his plate in a matter of minutes then went and got seconds. Katie appeared to eat little but watched the two younger people consume her work with pride.

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