Jessie’s mind was working overtime as she cantered to the sounds of the birds wakening and the lake water lapping gently against the shore. Losing her baby boys had brought her on a journey, forcing her to open up to new ways of thinking. She had read many books, way beyond what she used to. The experience had made her see the world more clearly and she realised that only she could change her destiny. She could choose to remain in a dark hole or choose to live her best life. Over the past while she had being brewing an idea that she intended to share with two people who were very important to her, the Fitzgerald girls.
She was so happy for Grace. She had finally found “the one”. And Finn was getting stronger with each passing day. The only blot on the horizon was that Jack couldn’t get out of his partnership in Dubai yet. Kate had confided about her disastrous trip to New York, but at least she had followed her heart, even though it hadn’t work out. Kate’s art course was going well, so who knew what the future held for her?
Jessie had liked Richard. Geoff had eventually told her about his wife and son. She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through. It also made her realise that everybody had a story. And poor Sophia had had more than her fair share of loss.
She hosed down Caesar and spent the rest of the morning tidying around the yard before going inside to prepare Sunday lunch. Ten minutes later she heard a car outside. She felt strangely nervous. What if they didn’t like her idea? Would she do it anyway?
“Where’s my lunch?” Kate called, coming in the back door and pinching Jessie in the sides.
“If you’re not careful you won’t be getting any,” Jessie laughed.
“You’re mad having us for lunch; you get so little time off,” Grace remarked, placing a chocolate cake and treats for Sam on the kitchen counter. “Where is the little man?”
“Geoff brought him to a gymkhana. So it’s just me, and now that Kate won’t be around so much I thought I’d cook for her today, even though she drives me nuts when she is here.” Jessie laughed when Kate punched her gently.
“I always knew you’d miss me the most.”
“That’s pushing it,” said Jessie, bending down to gush at Finn in his carry-tot. “He’s getting so big, you little cutie.”
They sat around the butcher block table chatting and laughing. It was lovely that everybody was in such good form. Over coffee Jessie finally broached the subject.
“Girls, you know I’ve being doing courses and workshops and how interested I am in looking at things in a different way.”
“Yeah,” they both chorused. Kate started to yawn dramatically.
“Just listen … how did I manage to land two cynics for friends?”
“We keep you grounded.” Grace laughed. “Okay, on with the story.” Grace winked at Kate.
“Grace, Kate … me and Geoff, we need to create another source of income. Livery isn’t cheap and with the numbers dwindling, we have to come up with other ideas. I’d like to blend some of my new experiences with work here at the yard. I’d like your opinion about converting the old barn into training rooms and making the outbuildings into self-catering units?”
“Well, I’ve always said agriculture and tourism are our greatest strengths,” said Grace. “And you have a great location, with the woods, beach and mountains all nearby. When you say blend … explain?”
“Oooo she’s sounding all official now. Next she’ll be looking for a business plan,” said Kate.
“I will too,” said Grace. “Go on, Jessie.”
“I’d like to start with two units to see if there is an uptake, but ultimately I would love to have a training venue where we could host workshops and have more people stay on site.”
“Like art therapy?” said Kate, enthusiastically.
“Shush Kate, let Jessie explain,” said Grace.
“Exactly, and other workshops like yoga, meditation, Reiki, bereavement counselling, kinesiology, reflexology, but also gardening, photography, art classes …”
“Who would host them?”
“I’d invite people who are specialists in their fields. They could stay free and at first people could come and stay in the area but eventually I hope to provide enough self-catering that people can stay on site. Also there is enough land to provide space for camping and caravanning or build log cabins, and local people could attend, of course.”
“But how do you plan to make an income?”
“I was thinking the workshops would be held in the winter months. And I would let the apartments out in the summer to families and couples.”
“Why are you so keen about a training centre?”
Jessie sighed and said, “I’d love to provide a place where every other weekend there was something different happening. Since losing the babies my mind has been opened, and I’ve landed in places I never thought I would go to. I’ve gained something.”
“Now you’re talking airy fairy again,” said Grace, “If you plan to go to a bank and put yourself and your family under more financial pressure than you already are, you’d better get your head out of the clouds.”
“God, sis, you can be brutal at times,” said Kate, getting up to refill the kettle.
“Jessie, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but you need to be clear about what you want.”
Jessie put her head in her hands and said, “I am clear, but I can’t explain it properly. I have so many ideas and plans but it all gets muddled up. Let’s change the subject, I’m feeling like my bubble has been burst.”
“I’m really sorry, Jess,” said Grace, “but you already work the rounds of the clock.”
“Look I’m no business brain,” said Kate, “but I like the sound of your idea and I’ve seen you working with the special needs kids who come here on Saturdays for their riding lessons. I’d image that a family with a child with needs would love to spend longer here. And if there were a few units and a large space indoors and outdoors to play, sure wouldn’t they have a ball?”
“But Kate, that would cost a fortune! There would be fire regulations and disability access needed and all kinds of costs,” said Grace.
“I’m just saying …” said Kate, wanting to make Jessie feel better.
“Let’s forget about it for the moment,” said Jessie. She had had enough. She had hoped for a much better reception. Grace was right. They didn’t have that kind of money; the only thing she could do was play the lotto and dream.
As Grace walked back to her car she looked around. The sun was setting behind the oak trees whose branches were beginning to lose their leaves. She heard a horse neighing and walked towards the American barn where the horses’ heads perched out over the stable doors. It was here that Jack had kissed her for the first time. It was only two weeks since he had gone back to Dubai but she missed him – so much at times she couldn’t breathe.
Looking at the bales of hay and shavings, she realised how expensive it was to keep all the animals fed, bedded and vetted. It was a way of life, not a job, she thought. The McGraths worked twenty-four seven and they didn’t complain about it. Jessie considered she was lucky to be working with horses. It had always been her passion. But since losing the babies she had changed in many ways. She so desperately wanted to do something worthwhile. Jessie was laughing again which was a huge relief and now she was dreaming. Grace wouldn’t fault her for that. Hadn’t she herself visualised that, one day, big beautiful cruise liners would anchor in the harbour and bay of Bayrush, and it had happened. She would do all in her power to help Jessie make her dream come true. Grace was already bringing groups to Bayrush for golf and fishing. She’d do some research into the activities Jessie had mentioned. She patted Caesar’s nose and then turned and walked towards the lake where the derelict barn and outhouses Jessie had been talking about were located.
“Hi Aisling, thanks for coming out here to meet me,” said Jessie, resting the pitchfork she’d been cleaning out a stable with against the wall. “We’ll take a walk down to the lake and the old buildings and I’ll talk you through what I’m thinking of.”
“Sounds good,” said Aisling. She had worked in complementary therapy for twenty years and had told Jessie she was intrigued by her idea and would like to visit the site.
It was a week since Grace had grilled Jessie about her idea. It had spurred Jessie on to research and talk to people to gather opinions.
Aisling had been a lifeline in Jessie’s dark times and she valued her opinion dearly. She also appreciated how pragmatic she was, being a trained psychologist but also seeing the benefits of alternative therapies. It was all about blending. That was Jessie’s guiding line – to use the best of all worlds. Every day she woke up with more ideas. She’d ring Grace and say things like, “What about growing a vegetable garden to teach kids about plants?” Then. “How about an adventure park for team building?” and “Maybe we’ll have a variety of cookery classes.” She was driving Grace crazy. She needed to steady up and focus.
The two women walked along the lane towards the site until the view of the lake appeared in the distance.
“What do you think?” asked Jessie, bursting with anticipation for Aisling’s initial reaction.
“The view is fabulous, and I love all the old stonework and even how it forms a natural courtyard, but Jessie, it will cost a fortune.”
Two emotions flashed through her; elation and disappointment collided.
“Look Aisling, let’s pretend I won the lotto. Look at the possibilities of what we could achieve here.”
“In that case I see endless opportunities. You could have a large training room in the barn, and smaller therapy rooms for hire on a daily basis to a variety of therapists, acupuncturists, reflexology, massage, kinesiology, life-coaching and many more. You’d be amazed by what’s out there and because you’ll have accommodation, people from all over the world could come and stay on site presenting their therapies. Wow, it’s really peaceful here,” she said, looking across the lake with the mountains as a backdrop. She took out the dousing rods Jessie had asked her to bring and began to walk around the site checking for radon lines. After a few minutes, she said, “It’s completely clear.”
“And that’s a good thing. Now all I need is a lotto win,” laughed Jessie.
“Dreams do come true, Jessie. If you really want something and believe in it – it can happen.”
Thank God I didn’t bring Grace today, thought Jessie. If she saw me walking around with someone with dousing rods she’d have me checked in.
Later that evening she rang Fr. Jim, who had been so helpful and kind. She had discovered he hosted workshops all around Ireland using beautifully carved wooden pieces to explain how people processed emotional issues. She was so excited she could hardly sleep for thinking of all the wonderful workshops and therapies that could help people, and it could happen in her beloved Bayrush.
Sophia stretched her legs. She was sitting in her armchair in the upstairs living room reading to the sounds of Grace’s keyboard clinking. She had watched as Grace and Jack had fallen head over heels and worried about where it was all going to end. Every evening after Grace settled Finn, Grace went online to chat with Jack, and then Sophia would hear the sounds of her keyboard as she went back to her writing. Grace had confided in Sophia that writing had kept her sane while she was pregnant.
Sophia smiled when she saw Grace glance at her phone again; she was worse than a teenager making sure her phone was nearby at all times. If it wasn’t all so heartbreaking it would be funny, thought Sophia. She picked up her book to resume reading just as her own cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw the name on the screen.
“Are you free tomorrow? I managed to get a loan of the sailboat again.”
“Oh Eoghan, I’m sorry but I’m going back to New York tomorrow.”
“Oh, you never mentioned it.” He sounded so disappointed. “Another time, eh! Safe journey!” And the phone went dead.
She sat looking at the phone. Had she imagined it or was Eoghan a little put out with her for not telling him she was going back sooner?
A few days later, Grace invited Jessie over to Rose Cottage to chat about her idea.
“And I thought you had dismissed it out of hand,” said Jessie, dropping into the comfortable couch placed perfectly with a view of the beach.
“I spoke to an event manager, she believes that there may be a niche market for what you plan to offer with both companies for team building and even hen parties looking for something different.”
“Hen parties!!!”
“Massage, yoga, trying out pottery or art, total switch-off stuff.”
“What happened to Learner driver signs and nurses’ outfits …?”
“You’d be amazed at how the market has changed.”
“Clearly I am.”
“Anyway, all I am saying is that your idea could be viable if you research, focus and draw up a business plan. There are grants available specifically for tourism and because you also want the local community to benefit from what you want to create, they may look kindly towards it. Jessie, you’ve been running a successful business for ten years. That will stand to you when you go to talk to these people.”
“So, you definitely didn’t dismiss it.”
“I never dismiss anything you say. I have great faith in you, I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, so much so that I’d like to write a story about it, maybe we might even get some publicity if I could get it published.”
“Oh wow Grace, wouldn’t that be fantastic?” Jessie jumped up. “I’m so excited. I have so much I want to tell you that there might even be enough for a novel. And the way you write you could make a romantic story out of it, just like you used to when we were young.”
“Oh Jess …”
“No, Grace. I know you think I’m crazy sometimes but listen to me, you could do it.”
Grace laughed. “Now who’s encouraging who!”
“Try, give it a shot. Humour me.”
“Okay, you’re on, and if I can do it, I promise any money made from it will go to funding the project.”
“Okay, I want a novel from you, not a short story. We need money and publicity.”
“You’re a hard taskmaster. I brought you over here today to tell you what I wanted you to do, not the other way around.”
“We’re in this together, partner. Two heads are better than one,” said Jessie, laughing.
“Let’s contact an architect. You need to apply for planning permission and now that Dirk has decided to buy me out of the house, I’ll have some money to invest too. That is if you and Geoff agree.”
“Wow Grace, that would be fantastic,” said Jessie, hugging her.
“It isn’t much Jess, now that the market has deflated.”
“I don’t care, Grace. The fact that you believe in me and the idea is enough.”
Jessie’s excitement was infectious. She was walking around the room talking nonstop, ideas flowing from her.
“Jess, slow down, give me a chance to write down all you’re saying,” laughed Grace, turning back to the computer.
“Hurry up so. Partner,” she said, whooping with delight.
October had rolled in and Rose Cottage was quiet since Jack and Sophia had left. With Kate gone to Dublin, Grace was often lonely. The season had ended, leaving a gap in her otherwise crazy life, so she was thankful to have her writing. Most evenings, after her nightly call to Jack, she wrote. She lost herself in her characters and their stories, not knowing where they would lead her to next. It was fun and it filled the lonely evenings.
It would have been so much harder and too expensive to talk everyday had it not been for the internet. But sometimes it was difficult to look at Jack and not be able to touch him. Lynda, his wife, was making things difficult since her affair had ended. She was becoming increasingly bitter. She had even refused to sign the divorce papers, and Jack was getting stressed out by it all. Grace signed in; he was already online, waiting for her.
“Hey there,” he smiled, “how’s the little man? Is he all tucked up?”
“Fast asleep already.” She smiled; she loved that he always asked after Finn. She heard his doorbell.
“Sorry about this, I’m not expecting anyone,” he said, getting up. “I won’t be a sec.”
“No probs,” she replied, looking into the living room of his rented apartment. It was so bland, she thought, and then she heard a woman’s raised voice.
“I won’t sign those fucking papers. You’re trying to cut me out. Only for me that business of yours would be nothing. Nothing. It was my contacts. Me – I’m the one who made you here.”
“Lynda, can you please calm down? Let the solicitors handle it, okay? I told you I’m not speaking with you unless there is a solicitor present. I’ve had enough.”
Grace was frozen to the spot. She felt like a voyeur.
Lynda marched into the living room. “What have we here?” she said, staring into the computer. “So you’re the little Irish whore! Rana told me about her,” she screamed at Jack. She came up closer to the screen and hissed. “You’re the one in the photograph I found in his pocket. I have evidence that he’s been seeing you all the time we’ve been married.”
Her face was distorted-looking she was so close. Grace was shaking. The woman was crazy.
“What the hell are you talking about? Get out of my apartment. Don’t speak to Grace like that!” said Jack. Grace had never heard him so angry.
“Jack, I’ll talk to you later,” Grace said and clicked off before Lynda could say another word. Her stomach was in turmoil. No wonder Jack was so stressed. What photograph? She went to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a brandy. Why did everything have to be so complicated for them? She flopped onto the sofa.
The computer blipped. She was still so shaken she was afraid to go near it. But then she thought of Jack. How must Jack feel? She got up and pressed the keys.
“I’m so sorry, Grace. I can’t believe she’s dragging your name into it.”
“What photograph is she talking about, Jack?”
“The one we had taken in the photograph booth in Bayrush twenty years ago. I gave you two and kept two.”
“We were kids, for God’s sake,” said Grace, remembering the day vividly. She had treasured hers and had them in her bedside locker. “And you kept them all these years?”
He nodded. “I thought I’d lost them but she must have taken them. Oh Grace, this is all just one hell of a crazy mess. She plans on naming you in the divorce …”
Grace shook her head in disbelief. “What does she want, Jack?”
He put his head down and muttered, “She wants to get back together.”
Grace sat in silence. Confused. Was that what he wanted, she wondered? Terrified, she asked, “Jack, what do you want?”
“I don’t want your name dragged through muck. She’s bad-mouthing me everywhere. What she is saying isn’t true. If it continues it will affect the business and I wouldn’t be able to attract anyone to buy my share. Abdul doesn’t have the finance to buy me out.”
She sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Jack. When you told me she was bitter I had no idea how much. I’ll understand if you want to go back to her. Maybe the truth is that we were never meant to be. Our timing … well our timing has always been lousy.” She smiled through the tears she was desperately trying to hide. “Goodbye Jack …”
“Wait …” he said, stretching in towards the screen, but she had already clicked the button off.
The tears streamed down her face. Her mobile rang – Jack’s photo appeared. She ignored it. What was the point? It was too complicated. It was over. She went to her room and threw herself down on the bed. Who would have thought that a stupid picture taken in a photo booth could cause this heartbreak? She sobbed into the pillow.
Sophia was already seated in one of New York’s finest restaurants when Richard and Jane arrived. She must be important for him to want to formally introduce her. The girl was stunning. Tall with blond bobbed hair and by all accounts she had brains to match her beauty. Sophia could see the attraction for him. Her son was terribly intelligent; sometimes it made him rather dry and serious.
She stood up as they approached and for the first time in a long while she was glad of her height. It’s true what they say about making judgments about people within the first thirty seconds of meeting them. Instinctively Sophia did not like this girl. It was going to be a long evening.
Richard was even more stilted than normal. Jane oozed confidence. She had every right to, but it was too much. She was brusque with the waiters as if she was doing them a favour by honouring them with her presence.
Oh beam me up, Scottie, Sophia thought and began to smile. Richard asked, “Is everything okay, Mother?”
“Yes, of course. Could you both excuse me for a moment, please?”
She made her way to the restroom. It was Kate’s voice that had popped into her head. She used to say “beam me up” when she wanted to get out of something. If Richard was making plans this was going to be the biggest mistake of his life and all she could do was watch and wait.
She pushed open the door. Thankfully the restroom was empty. She stood looking at her image in the mirror. Next month it would be two years since Bill’s death. She had never wanted to be with anyone else, not that the opportunity hadn’t arisen over the years for both of them but she had never been tempted and neither had Bill. She knew that absolutely, which made her feel worse about what had happened between her and Eoghan recently.
If she were honest it was the reason she had left Ireland so suddenly. No wonder he had been curt with her on the phone. Her face flushed at the thought. Maybe Richard was like her … lonely. She’d have to accept his choice but the truth was she wished it was Kate.
She had to get through this evening. She would talk to Richard privately; maybe then she could ascertain the depth of it all. She touched up her already perfect make-up.
Was she turning into an interfering mother?
Richard knew from the moment he introduced them that it was a disaster. How could he possibly think that his lively, passionate mother could connect with Jane? She was Ivy League. His mother was a mixture of everything, not least Italian.
Sometimes he wondered where his temperament fitted. His father had been a gregarious, outgoing man, the life and soul of a party. Richard possessed none of the traits he so loved in other people. The problem was that those types didn’t like to be around him so much.
Why shouldn’t he settle now? Jane was easy to get along with and the sex was good. What more did he want? There wasn’t a man in the room who wouldn’t want to be with her. His mother would have to get over it, but it felt like the longest dinner of his life.
Afterwards Sean, his driver, dropped his mother at her building on Park Avenue and continued to his place. He stood beside Jane as the lift took them to his penthouse; there was an obvious distance between them. He offered her a drink. She accepted a vodka martini. He poured himself a large brandy.
“Your mother is very nice,” she remarked, from where she sat on the couch.
“Yes, she is,” he said, handing her the crystal glass. He sat in the armchair opposite.
“She’s very protective of you.”
“That’s what they do!”
“Cindy invited us to the Hamptons this weekend. I was hoping you could join us.”
He noted the change of subject. He always feigned work as an excuse to get out of things he didn’t want to do but it was becoming increasingly difficult because Jane knew his schedule. He had noticed she was particularly warm to Colleen, his personal assistant. It hadn’t bothered him until now. She walked towards him and straddled his lap. This Ivy League girl often surprised him with her forwardness. She never had a problem initiating. He wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t react. He wondered fleetingly what was wrong with him.
“I’m sorry …” He made to move. She was highly offended. It was alien to somebody as beautiful as her to be rejected. She was too much of a lady to rant but he could see she was doing all in her power not to lose control. In that moment he knew he was wasting his time. Jane was the wrong woman. And the truth was if his mother had even slightly encouraged him he had been prepared to pop the question, to get it out of the way.
She picked up her jacket and walked out the door – slamming it behind her. He turned on the TV. He could get the sports results now, in comfort. But why did images of a petite, black-haired, smiling Irish girl keep popping into his head, he wondered? “Shit.”
Grace woke to the sound of the doorbell ringing. She jumped up, fully clothed, and realised she must have fallen asleep. Glancing at the alarm clock, she saw that it read one a.m. Finn lay fast asleep in his cot next to her bed. She rushed downstairs, wondering who would call at this hour. Peering through the peephole, she saw Jessie.
“What is God’s name are you doing here?” she asked, swinging the door wide open.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying it and so has Jack. He’s worried sick about you. He rang to ask me to come over to check on you,” said Jessie, following her into the kitchen where Grace began to fill the kettle.
“It’s never straightforward for me, Jessie. I’m a disaster when it comes to men. I don’t know why I never learn. I shouldn’t have allowed him into my life. I’m such a fool.” She slumped onto the stool.
“Grace, he’s worried sick about you. Please just ring and tell him you’re okay and that you’ll talk tomorrow. Everything will seem better in daylight. I don’t know what’s going on but I do know he really loves you and that has to be worth fighting for.”
She picked up Grace’s phone and handed it to her. Reluctantly Grace texted Jack to say she’d talk to him in the morning. Seconds later a reply came. It had a big X on it.
Jessie smiled. “Grace, you’ll work it out together. I know you said Lynda was giving him a hard time.”
“Oh Jess, you won’t believe what happened earlier.” She began to tell Jessie. Jessie, being Jessie, had her smiling about it by the time she got to the end of the story.
“Imagine he actually kept the photos. That is just so sweet,” said Jessie, getting up to put her mug in the dishwasher. “Now get some sleep.” She squeezed Grace’s shoulders as she walked towards the door.
“Thanks, Jess,” Grace called from the doorway as Jessie got into the jeep.