behaviour.
Do Frona’s opinions on emotions seem suddenly appropriate?
How can Sarah not be sad about Pru and Helena arguing? The heaviness inside her shifts, a memory nudges at her, trying to be recalled. Sarah focuses, forcing it to take shape , but it will not. It is something to do with her sadness, the hint of a solution.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable in the house with Finn and Helena retired to their room , she wanders out into the garden, where the sun’s hot embrace catches her by surprise. Her limbs loosen and grow sluggish and her pace immediately slows. Looking back down the drive, the dogs are visible, locked in large cages tucked behind the garages. One lays panting, half-in, half-out of its kennel. She wonders if dogs become sad, too. They must, if they are caged too long.
Beyond the dogs ’ cage, there is a wall with an open wooden gate, both too tall to see over; besides, there is a single line of trees beyond. Sarah wanders over to it, rubbing the last of the icing from her hands. She hopes the dogs will not bark, and they ignore her. If Finn and Helena stay in their room, lunch could be quite awkward. She knows Frona, but she hasn’t even been introduced to Helena’s parents yet. Maybe today is not the day to meet them. Tomorrow, or even the next day, might be better. The truth is Finn and Helena will marry whether she meets them or not so really, in the scheme of things, it is not important. There is no rush. Maybe Laurence was right. One of the dogs lifts its head and sniffs before returning to its dreams.
The side gate in the high wall stands ajar, beckoning. Is there a formal garden on the other side, or a tennis court, maybe a vegetable plot? She could see what can grow here. There is no rush in her step as she pulls the gate open and steps beyond.
It is just rough ground, with hardy, low-lying bushes and tough grass and a single spreading tree growing centrally . A goat pops up, startled, from behind the nearest clump of gorse and gambols away. Such happy creatures. People would be better if they were more like goats.
Torin was a bit like a goat; jumping about, always eating, always happy. Everything life threw at him became an adventure. Something bad would happen and he would find a positive way to look at it, make it fun. Like when his money fell through a hole in his jeans pocket.
They had been up to the Cliffs of Moher, walking, the three of them. Torin had been discussing their plans, or rather his plan that they were following. They were to move to the fair city, get proper jobs, and raise the money to move to London, maybe via the Isle of Man, where the jobs paid better than in Dublin. His ideas seemed so big, so great at the time. London was a world away, a place of shiny lights and superstars. But on their return from the cliffs, he put his hand in his pocket to show the wages he had saved for the bus to Dublin and he found the money gone.
Sarah had felt like crying. She only had enough saved for her own ticket an d she wasn’t going without him, but he rebounded with energy.
‘ Great,’ he said with joy, ‘I’ll hitch, and I reckon I’ll be there before you.’ But the way he said it sounded like such fun that she and Liz decided not to take the bus either, and the three of them said their secret goodbye to County Clare, standing with their thumbs out on the road to Dublin, praying that a stranger would stop to pick them up, rather than someone they knew—or worse, someone who knew their families.
Sarah lifts her hair from her neck to relieve the heat.
A figure appears at the top of the field and makes its way steadily toward her until they are close enough to speak.
‘We meet again.’ The shepherd is cheerful in his greeting.
‘ Hello.’ Sarah is not sure if she should be surprised to see him or not.
‘ Are you happy or sad today?’ His mouth stays firm but his eyes dance.
‘ Definitely sad just at the moment,’ Sarah confirms. ‘Sad, but not
Do Frona’s opinions on emotions seem suddenly appropriate?
How can Sarah not be sad about Pru and Helena arguing? The heaviness inside her shifts, a memory nudges at her, trying to be recalled. Sarah focuses, forcing it to take shape , but it will not. It is something to do with her sadness, the hint of a solution.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable in the house with Finn and Helena retired to their room , she wanders out into the garden, where the sun’s hot embrace catches her by surprise. Her limbs loosen and grow sluggish and her pace immediately slows. Looking back down the drive, the dogs are visible, locked in large cages tucked behind the garages. One lays panting, half-in, half-out of its kennel. She wonders if dogs become sad, too. They must, if they are caged too long.
Beyond the dogs ’ cage, there is a wall with an open wooden gate, both too tall to see over; besides, there is a single line of trees beyond. Sarah wanders over to it, rubbing the last of the icing from her hands. She hopes the dogs will not bark, and they ignore her. If Finn and Helena stay in their room, lunch could be quite awkward. She knows Frona, but she hasn’t even been introduced to Helena’s parents yet. Maybe today is not the day to meet them. Tomorrow, or even the next day, might be better. The truth is Finn and Helena will marry whether she meets them or not so really, in the scheme of things, it is not important. There is no rush. Maybe Laurence was right. One of the dogs lifts its head and sniffs before returning to its dreams.
The side gate in the high wall stands ajar, beckoning. Is there a formal garden on the other side, or a tennis court, maybe a vegetable plot? She could see what can grow here. There is no rush in her step as she pulls the gate open and steps beyond.
It is just rough ground, with hardy, low-lying bushes and tough grass and a single spreading tree growing centrally . A goat pops up, startled, from behind the nearest clump of gorse and gambols away. Such happy creatures. People would be better if they were more like goats.
Torin was a bit like a goat; jumping about, always eating, always happy. Everything life threw at him became an adventure. Something bad would happen and he would find a positive way to look at it, make it fun. Like when his money fell through a hole in his jeans pocket.
They had been up to the Cliffs of Moher, walking, the three of them. Torin had been discussing their plans, or rather his plan that they were following. They were to move to the fair city, get proper jobs, and raise the money to move to London, maybe via the Isle of Man, where the jobs paid better than in Dublin. His ideas seemed so big, so great at the time. London was a world away, a place of shiny lights and superstars. But on their return from the cliffs, he put his hand in his pocket to show the wages he had saved for the bus to Dublin and he found the money gone.
Sarah had felt like crying. She only had enough saved for her own ticket an d she wasn’t going without him, but he rebounded with energy.
‘ Great,’ he said with joy, ‘I’ll hitch, and I reckon I’ll be there before you.’ But the way he said it sounded like such fun that she and Liz decided not to take the bus either, and the three of them said their secret goodbye to County Clare, standing with their thumbs out on the road to Dublin, praying that a stranger would stop to pick them up, rather than someone they knew—or worse, someone who knew their families.
Sarah lifts her hair from her neck to relieve the heat.
A figure appears at the top of the field and makes its way steadily toward her until they are close enough to speak.
‘We meet again.’ The shepherd is cheerful in his greeting.
‘ Hello.’ Sarah is not sure if she should be surprised to see him or not.
‘ Are you happy or sad today?’ His mouth stays firm but his eyes dance.
‘ Definitely sad just at the moment,’ Sarah confirms. ‘Sad, but not
Similar Books
