‘Well, you have to inform them immediately.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ But if she was being completely honest she knew she wouldn’t, or at least not at once. She hated talking to the office of her son’s high school. The judgement in their voices as they listened to her excuses for late payment of fees or the patronising way they explained the importance of attendance. She knew this would somehow become her fault. Only a bad mother would allow this to happen. Once more Michelle Giardino’s pretty face floated into her mind’s eye. A rage bubbled up inside her and she longed to reach out and smack the smug look off her face. ‘Well, at least now I know why he was keeping this whole thing a secret.’
‘It’s her I’m pissed at,’ Elliot said. ‘I don’t blame him. I mean, my first girlfriend was a lot older than me.’
Elizabeth’s blood ran cold. Was that supposed to reassure her in some way? She didn’t know how to respond so simply chose not to. The silence between them was interrupted by a slight crackle on the line.
‘I …’ He sounded as if he was going to try and comfort her or qualify what he had said, but then thinking better of the idea continued, ‘I’ll call again after I’ve collected him. The three of us can have a talk.’
Elizabeth bristled. She didn’t like it when Elliot decided to resume the role of parent. Swallowing her irritation, she replied, ‘Yes. Talk then. Bye.’
‘OK then. Bye.’
‘Good luck.’
‘Thanks.’ A little weary chuckle and then he was gone.
The next morning banished all memory of the blue skies and brilliant winter sunshine of the day before. Mottled grey clouds hung heavily across the damp fields while strong gusts of wind shook the bare branches of the trees. The dining room of the hotel was filled with disconsolate-looking guests sitting beside packed bags. ‘Delayed.’ ‘We don’t know.’ ‘Might be cancelled.’ The mood of the room and the lack of tables prompted Elizabeth to get some coffee in a paper cup and head out to her car.
The road to Bandon was simple enough, but then she took a wrong turn in a village called Old Chapel and ended up on the top of a hill at a crossroads where nowhere she wanted was signposted. A group of windswept children peered at her over the wall of a school playground as she turned around and headed back to the village. This time she found the right way and was soon driving beneath the imposing stone walls of the ancient abbey in Timoleague. The road then seemed to head inland away from the coast and Elizabeth wondered if she had gone wrong again but then she emerged through a long tunnel of trees and found herself driving along a narrow causeway across what looked like a salt marsh. At the other end there was a humpbacked bridge that seemed to be almost hewn from rock. Beyond that there was a wider grass verge where she pulled over to check her map. Noelle’s red marker pen stopped at the village of Muirinish, which is where Elizabeth had told them she was going, but that was slightly inland. She knew that she needed to be by the sea. Peering through the windscreen she couldn’t see anything that resembled a house or even an entrance. Maybe it had been knocked down years before and she was now the proud owner of some rubble? Grabbing her handbag, she decided to get out of the car and explore a little on foot.
The wind was strong, but after so long in the car she enjoyed it rushing across her face, tasting the salt from the sea. The road curved slightly and the trees became a little thicker, but then she came to a gap that was filled with dead grass. Pushing forward she saw the rusted remains of a gate leaning against the wall. This was the entrance to a lane or old driveway. Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, thinking how underprepared she was for this sort of exploration. Her sneakers and thin jeans would be soaked. Maybe she should wait until she had got some wellington boots from somewhere? No. There were dry clothes to change into back in the car. It wasn’t ideal but it would have to do. Taking high steps and trying to flatten the grass, she continued. Back from the road the lane was slightly less overgrown and she found she was able to pick her way along a single track, avoiding most of the puddles and patches of mud. To her right behind a low stone wall were some geriatric apple trees. On the left was a sloping meadow that looked as if it had been used for grazing fairly recently. She could hear the sea but wasn’t able to see it until the lane climbed gently and all at once there it was, stretching out in front of her. Elizabeth gasped, it was so beautiful. A couple of lines of a Keats sonnet she had been teaching that semester popped into her head.