Page 32 of The Secret Bookshop in Ireland

‘That must have been so hard for you,’ Ciara replied, realising that her mother had to live with a man who had huge issues with his past. ‘I’m not angry with you, Ma; I’m angrier with him, which is a bit useless, I suppose.’ She drew breath and stared out the window. ‘It makes me feel strange, though. I don’t know who I am any more. Not a Doyle, but a Fitzgerald from Wicklow. How odd is that?’

‘Of course you’re a Doyle,’ Maureen argued. ‘Your father’s adoptive parents loved him and were so proud of him. He grew up with a lot of love and support, never forget that. It takes a lot more to being a mother than to give birth, you know. And Ada Doyle was certainly a real, good, caring, loving mother. She would have been a wonderful granny too, had she lived. Never forget that.’

Ciara turned to look at her mother. ‘Thank you, Ma. Of course you’re right. And I’d love to look through that old album again, just to remember Dad’s real, true parents.’

‘That’s my girl,’ Maureen said, touching Ciara’s cheek. ‘And now, let’s have a slap-up lunch in that lovely looking restaurant overlooking the beautiful countryside.’

Ciara smiled, her spirits lifting. ‘Brilliant idea, Ma. I’m suddenly very hungry after all that emotion.’

They got out of the van and slowly walked down the street, lined with lovely Victorian houses with their well-tended gardens where roses were just about to come out in full bloomand the branches with apple blossom moved in the light breeze, their delicate scent filling the air. They reached the restaurant and managed to get a table in the garden where there were wonderful views of the rolling hills and the top of the mountain called the Sugarloaf rising in the distance.

‘Oh, it’s like being in a different country,’ Maureen said with a happy sigh as they studied the menu a waitress had just handed them.

‘It really is,’ Ciara agreed. ‘This village is so enchanting.’

‘Disney made a movie here a few years ago,’ Maureen said. ‘I think it was calledDisenchanted. It had that dishy actor in it. What’s-his-name fromGrey’s Anatomy.’

‘Patrick Dempsey,’ Ciara filled in. ‘It was shot here and in Powerscourt up the road. I read that they turned the whole village into a film set.’

‘Is that so?’ Maureen asked the waitress who had just appeared, pen and pad in her hand, ready to take their order.

The waitress, a redhead with a cute face, rolled her eyes. ‘Oh yeah. It was a madhouse during those months they were here. You couldn’t move for film people. They turned Enniskerry into some fairy tale place called Monroeville. Exciting for a bit but then it became a bit of a drag. Who wants to live in Disneyland?’

‘I can imagine,’ Ciara said.

‘I hope it won’t happen again for a long time,’ the waitress declared with feeling. ‘So what can I get you?’

‘I’ll have the burger and chips and a glass of zero Guinness, please.’

‘Oh, but maybe you should pick something a little less… substantial?’ Maureen suggested.

‘She means less fattening,’ Ciara said to the waitress. ‘My mum thinks I should try to lose weight.’

‘Ah sure, aren’t you grand the way you are?’ the waitress said with a conspiratorial smile. ‘And why not treat yourself if you feel like it?’

‘Exactly,’ Ciara said with a satisfied glance at her mother.

Maureen laughed and shook her head. ‘I see that I’m losing the battle. And you know what? I’ll have the same. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.’

‘That’s my motto too,’ the waitress said and jotted down their order. ‘I’ll go and get your drinks and place the order.’

She was back only minutes later with two glasses of zero Guinness and a carafe of water. ‘There you go. The burgers and chips won’t take long.’

‘Great,’ Ciara said. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Are you staying around here?’ the waitress asked.

‘We’re in Cherrywood,’ Maureen said. ‘It’s about ten kilometres from here up that steep road.’

‘I know where it is,’ the girl said. ‘My granny came from there. She’s buried beside the Catholic church. I go to put flowers on her grave sometimes.’

‘How lovely,’ Maureen said. ‘By the way, I’m Maureen and Ciara here is my daughter.’

‘I’m Róisín,’ the girl said. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Hi, Róisín,’ Ciara said. ‘Great to meet someone with connections to Cherrywood.’

‘Oh, I’m not that connected to the place,’ Róisín said. ‘My granny died years ago when I was eight. But she was so lovely. I like the village, even though it’s a bit rundown. It’s quiet and peaceful and the graveyard is very beautiful. Have you been there?’