Chapter Twelve

      It had been nearly two decades since Danae had lived with anybody; two decades of being on her own in her cottage in Avalon with her animals and her beautiful garden for company. She didn’t realize how much she’d grown used to this until Mara came to stay.

      At first, it had been novel to have Mara around the place with her vitality and her energy. Mara was forever cheery. Even being dumped by the man she’d loved hadn’t dimmed her light. Danae was astonished at this and wondered if perhaps Mara secretly cried in her room at night, sobbing over pictures of Jack. Danae suspected that, in Mara’s place, that’s what she would have done. She would have felt so devastated to be rejected by a man who’d been so important.

      But if Mara was feeling utterly broken-hearted, she wasn’t showing it. No, there was this amazing strength inside her niece; it must be something to do with being brought up in such a happy family, Danae decided.

      After a while, however, Mara’s presence began to – well, Danae decided, there was no other word for it: to irritate her.

      Mara was so cheerful all the time and so at home, sharing the place. Not that she took advantage – no, not for a second. She did all the housework, every chore, cooked meals.

      ‘Well,’ said Mara, ‘I’m not out working and you are, so it’s only fair.’

      She bought the groceries out of what must have been a dwindling supply of money and Danae fretted over this. Danae had fretted over money her whole life.

      ‘No, it’s fine really, Danae,’ Mara said. ‘I’m a good saver, you know. I’d money in the bank, plus I’ve been sending my CV off all over the place looking for work, although not many people are employing former estate agents these days.’

      Even this didn’t seem to dim Mara’s enthusiasm. ‘I was thinking of looking around here for work. Do you know of anyone who might need someone to help? Part-time, to dip my toe back in the water. It’s a good time of year to get part-time work, people tend to need more staff in the build-up to Christmas, so I might be able to get a bit of shop work or something. I’ll do anything, I don’t mind: sweep floors, scrub, iron – you name it.’

      Danae had laughed. ‘You’re brilliant,’ she said. ‘Nobody can say you don’t know how to work.’

      ‘Oh, I know how to work, all right,’ Mara said. ‘I was fabulous at my job.’ She turned quiet and reflective for a moment. ‘Cici told me I was mad to leave, but I couldn’t go on working there. It felt wrong. It was the principle of the thing. And … and then I couldn’t look for money from them for some sort of constructive dismissal case. No, that’s not my way. Jack marrying Tawhnee was a sign, that’s all. I had to move out.’

      ‘A sign?’ asked Danae, interested.

      ‘Oh yes,’ said Mara. ‘I’m a great believer in signs, aren’t you? It’s like … I dunno. A parking space is a sign, right? Someone’s terribly friendly to you in a shop – that’s a sign, isn’t it? There are lots of signs of happiness and good things out there, you have to be on the alert for them.’

      And that was probably one of the big differences between the two of them, Danae thought to herself. Mara was exuberant, full of life, brimming with a gentle confidence. She was warm to everyone; warm in a way Danae was afraid she never could be.

      There were several things about having Mara staying with her, Danae reflected, that made it hard. One was the simple physicality of having another human being about the house, even if that human being was a wonderful, loving, kind, thoughtful guest, like Mara. Another difficulty was the sheer contrast between them. Mara could walk into a room where she knew nobody and ten minutes later she would have made firm friends with at least half the people there. Danae, walking into the same room, would watch carefully from the sidelines. That was what she did: watch carefully. That was what she’d done for a long time. It was probably too late to change now.

      But the biggest problem to do with Mara’s presence had nothing to do with their different personalities or getting used to sharing a house with her – it was the matter of how to keep Mara from finding out about her monthly trips to Dublin.

      ‘You’re up early,’ said Danae in surprise as Mara emerged from her bedroom in her pyjamas, hair tousled. She had counted on Mara still being asleep when she set off.

      ‘Yes,’ said Mara, ‘it must be the country air. In Galway I could sleep for hours at the weekend, but here it’s different.’ She yawned, ‘Cici would laugh if she saw me up at …’ she looked at her watch, ‘… half seven on a Saturday morning. Where are you off to at this hour?’

      Was it her imagination, Mara wondered, or did Danae really look a little furtive this morning? There was definitely something different about her. On days when she wasn’t going to the post office, Danae’s uniform seemed to consist of a comfortable skirt and a sweater, possibly accessorized by a scarf or a long flowing cardigan. Today she was much more formally dressed, in neatly pressed trousers, a blouse and jacket.

      ‘I have a few errands to do in … erm … Arklow,’ Danae said, looking flustered and uncomfortable.

      No, Mara hadn’t imagined it, there was something going on. Her imaginative mind ran over the possibilities: Danae was sick and she was going to an appointment with the hospital … No, that was crazy – what hospital or consultant had appointments on a Saturday? Honestly, she was being paranoid.

      ‘OK,’ said Mara. ‘What time will you be back? Do you want me to do anything?’

      Again Danae looked furtive. ‘I was writing you a note, asking if you’d mind throwing a bit of feed to the hens at about five? Round them up before it gets dark and lock them in. I’ll probably be back by … by dinner time.’

      Mysteriouser and mysteriouser.

      Mara nodded. ‘No problem,’ she said. If Danae had secrets, that was fine by her.

      Ten minutes later Danae set off in the car, leaving Mara sitting at the kitchen table with Lady staring up at her, those hypnotic, wolf eyes watching adoringly. Mara loved Lady, she was such a beautiful dog, so affectionate, content to sit beside Mara and Danae and occasionally put a questing nose up for a little pet, as she did now. And as Mara sipped her coffee, she wondered what her aunt was up to, what she had to hide. And then she told herself to mind her own business; everyone was entitled to their secrets.

      Danae felt rattled as she took the Dublin road out of Avalon. She hated lying, it had always felt wrong to her. Up to now, she’d managed without ever having to lie; she just didn’t tell people things, and that worked. But Mara was changing all that, Mara was making it harder. Living with another person was tricky. That was the word, Danae decided.

      Now that Mara was living with her, Danae felt she owed her niece some explanation. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t talk about it, it still hurt too much. No, it was easier to keep it to herself. Mara would leave soon enough. She’d been talking about going to London some time, and then Danae would be there alone again. Why go through all that pain unnecessarily? No, no, she would be better off keeping quiet till then.

      Of course the other problem was that Mara was so very sociable and she was determined that Danae would be sociable too. In the few short weeks that Mara had been living there, Danae had been out five times to the cinema with Mara and Belle.

      ‘Belle – she’s your best friend, isn’t she?’ Mara had enquired within a day or two of her arrival. Danae had been shocked. How had Mara noticed? Not that Danae had such a thing as a best friend really, but if she did, Belle was it.

      ‘Well, I suppose she is,’ said Danae, trying to appear normal.

      ‘OK,