Ireland's Haunted Women by Christina McKenna

Author:Christina McKenna [McKenna, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
ISBN: 9781781991862
Publisher: Poolbeg
Published: 2015-06-17T04:00:00+00:00

Ellen and Richard settled in within a day or two. The tigín continued to be an enchanting place. There was the garden for a start.

It extended on two sides. The living-room window looked out on the part of the garden that ran alongside the road, it being enclosed by a pretty privet hedge. The other portion extended beyond the front door and could also be reached from the kitchen. It caught the sun from early morning and they could throw open the kitchen door, allowing the brightness in for hours at a stretch.

“You could tell that the garden had been cared for by somebody with green fingers,” Ellen says, “and who loved to be surrounded by flowers and plants. The hedge ran from the gate and made a right angle with the side of the tigín. There was a lawn with white gravel that curved out to the gate and an ornamental fountain in the middle of one part of the lawn. But the rockery was the nicest thing of all. It was done with big white marble stones and we had all sorts of wild flowers growing there. The colours were beautiful. We had bees and butterflies in the garden from early morning to evening.”

Best of all, whoever had designed the tigín had built a veranda that ran along the two sides facing the garden. It was the old-fashioned kind, with boards painted white and two wrought-iron benches to match. Each bench had blue and green cushions, seemingly permanent fixtures. They were dry to the touch; it hadn’t rained in a while and the veranda gave shelter in any case.

Having moved their belongings in, Ellen and Richard set about making some space for themselves.

“We didn’t want to throw anything out of course,” Ellen says. “It wasn’t our place. So I put the bathroom stuff into a cupboard under the sink. I found the bathroom stuff a bit off-putting I have to say.” She makes a face. “Well, what woman wouldn’t? There was a wardrobe full of her clothes and things as well, but that was okay because two wardrobes had been left free for us anyway.”

After stowing away everything and unpacking, the couple finally felt that the place was theirs at last. They uncorked a bottle of white wine and took it outside to the veranda.

The sun was just going down beyond the privet hedge. The air was still warm with the heat of the day. The flowers in the rockery were closing up for the night. They watched as a flock of starlings passed overhead; they heard the bleating of sheep in neighbouring fields. It was idyllic. They felt they were home at last.

Yet, despite all that tranquillity and beauty, Ellen felt ill at ease. There was something “not right” about the place.

They went to bed some hours later, their first night in the bedroom that had once belonged to a deceased pensioner. Ellen had made the bed with their own sheets, pillow-cases and duvet. When Richard switched out the light they could well have been in bed in their old flat.

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