Moya Brennan has just returned home from the latest world tour with her family band, Clannad. She had a lot of fun on the road this time, seeing exotic, far-off lands, and getting the opportunity to entertain on an international scale. It was pretty good for a girl from Gaoth Dobhair. Also, she'd met someone – a photographer from England. There was only one catch, Moya is married. She finally said "yes" to Pat O'Farrell's proposals, though she wondered why she had. They had been together for six years and had all the benefits of marriage with out the commitment. It wasn't that she didn't like Pat as a person, but she knew on the honeymoon that she'd made a dreadful mistake by marrying him. The trouble was she'd realised this when it was too late..
She sits staring out her music room window at the dreary gray afternoon. It is raining, for once though she does not mind because it fits perfectly with her mood. Gloomy. This is her sanctuary; here Moya can escape the world and be alone in her thoughts. Her mind wanders she closes her eyes. Her thoughts come to rest on one name, one face, one memory. Tim, the English photographer. She remembers everything, everything about him, and what they shared. Slowly, Moya opens her eyes and reality sinks back in that she's home in Dublin and she's married to Pat.
"If only", Moya says with a sigh leaning her head against the window. She doesn't realize that she's not alone; Pat's been leaning on the doorframe watching her.
"If only – what?", he asks walking over and sitting down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Oh nothing, honey", she says hoping he didn't see that she was lost in her thoughts.
"I missed you while you were off touring the world", Pat says as he leans in to kiss her gently on the lips.
Even though Moya's here in her husband's arms she just can not get Tim out of her mind. She wants to see him again, no she needs to see him again. Shaking her head, in an effort to rid herself of that thought, she stands and turns to leave.
"Where are you going, dear?" Pat asks watching her every move. Something is different; she's spacey, too spacey even for Moya.
"To start to unpack, you want to come and help?" Moya replies meeting his gaze. They lock eyes for a brief moment.
"Okay", he says and gets up to follow her into their room.
Moya begins to take her clothes from the suitcase and sort them into three piles – dark, light, and dressy – for the wash. Pat, meanwhile is unpacking her backpack. It contains a bible, her grandma's prayer book, CDs, a date and address planner, and other various odds and ends. She has finished sorting the clothes and has taken the "darks" down to the washer.
Pat now seizes the opportunity to look and see what she's been up to while she was away. He slowly opens her planner, and begins to leaf through a few pages, a little piece of paper slips out and falls to the floor. Pat retrieves the paper off the floor and looks at it. The paper reads "Tim Jarvis" and then lists a mobile number - it's written in Moya's handwriting with blue ink.
He decides at that moment that she must be having an affair with this man, Tim – whoever he is. Pat has always believed that his wife is faithful and that she loves him. However, this scenario – another man's mobile number scrawled in Moya's handwriting – looks possibly incriminating but is it? He has to find out for sure, and sets off down the stairs with the paper in hand to talk to his wife. Pat finds Moya at the kitchen table drinking peppermint tea and looking over the mail..
"Moya", Pat begins slowly, "we need to talk".
She looks up from the letter she's reading and notices that he's not happy, it's clear in his facial expression and body language.
"Okay, what's wrong?", she asks trying to sound truly concerned, while motioning for him to come and sit down near her.
Pat comes over and sits down and looks into Moya's eyes.
He begins to speak, "Who were you with on tour?".
Moya wonders why he could be asking her this - unless, no there's no way he could think or know..
"Just my brothers, uncles, and other band members" she replies.
"Don't lie to me", Pat says while staring intently at his wife.
Moya sees the anger in his eyes and stares back just as intently at him. She's a very stubborn woman, a trait she inherited from her mother. In some instances this stubborn streak was good, however when it came to Pat, Moya's attitude combined with Pat's own was a recipe for arguments.
"I'm not lying to you – it was only the band", she responds, her eyes locked with his.
Pat looks away from her. Moya gets up from the kitchen table and crosses to the stove, she needs more tea. This "talk" isn't going to be enjoyable. It's no wonder she wants a vacation after only being home for a day and a half, being with Pat, as his wife, is a lot harder than when she was just his girlfriend.
"Well then, Moya, who is Tim Jarvis?", Pat says in an accusing tone.
At the mention of Tim's name Moya whirls around from making her tea and leans against the counter facing her husband.
"How do you know about him?", she says with a note of irritation in her voice.
"Well, dear", Pat says sarcastically, "I found this in your planner".
Then he holds up the paper for her to clearly see. It's Tim's name and mobile number in her handwriting. She stares at Pat in relative shock, he actually might think that she was having an affair.
"And, why were you going through my planner, you know that's where I keep everything for work?", Moya responds, as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares into Pat.
"So, Tim Jarvis is a work contact?", he questions though the edge in his voice is still noticeable to her.
"Yes, he's a photographer from England", Moya answers coolly; she is not in the mood to play games.
The tea in the kettle has finished perking and so Moya fixes her tea the way she likes it and then comes back over to sit down and resume looking at the mail like she had been doing before Pat came traipsing in. Five minutes pass and Moya can feel Pat's eyes boring a hole into her. Until finally, she can't stand it any longer, looking up she meets his gaze.
"What are you staring at?", Moya snaps. Pat can see it in her eyes that she's upset, strung out, and tired.
"You", he responds, "Moya, I don't think you are telling me the truth", he says as he takes her hand.
"What are you implying?", she says while staring aimlessly out over the back porch deck at the approaching black storm clouds.
"Look at me", Pat says as he tightens his grip on her hand and looks straight into her eyes, "Are you seeing someone else?"
Moya looks back at him and answers in a calm voice, "No I'm not, there's only you, no one else", as she manages to get her hand free from his grip.
At that moment the phone rings, who could be calling now, she wonders as she goes into the living room to answer the phone.
"Hello?", Moya says with a tinge of annoyance still in her voice from the little spat with Pat in the kitchen.
"Moya, how are you?", the voice on the other end of the line says.
She's actually happy that she answered the phone because it's Tim. So, she decides that she will take this call in her music room, that way Pat won't know who she's chatting with.
"I'm good", she says even though she knows that that's not the case, but she's hoping that he won't notice the sadness in her voice.
"Well, you don't sound like you're so good", Tim responds, "Is everything alright?"
Moya is taken aback by this genuine concern for her, "No, everything is not alright." She says while trying to hold back the tears that have welled up in her eyes but it's not working in her favour – the stress, the exhaustion, and her situation at home are all too much for her.
"Do you want to talk about it?", he asks gently, while silently praying that he was there and could help her.
"No. wait, yes", she says, finally someone she can talk to and not feel that she might be judged.
"Okay", Tim says, "what's bothering you?"
She takes a few moments to compose herself and find her voice. How can she tell him what she's thinking and why is she even thinking like this? She's married and it's not to Tim. "Moya, get a grip", she silently says to herself.
"Pat is who's bothering me", Moya says flatly, "Tim, I think he might be smarter than I thought".
"Okay, what is making you think that?", Tim asks in a worried tone.
Moya has been fighting back tears since she answered the phone, and she just can't do it any longer. A sob escapes her throat, as the tears begin to stream down her face.
"Moy, honey – please say something", Tim says slowly, it's killing him to hear her cry and not being able to do a thing to comfort her.
"I need to see you again", she replies choking back sobs.
"Okay, when and where?", he asks, still feeling relatively helpless.
Tim's stuck in London while Moya's miles away in Dublin missing him terribly and having a hard time with that jerk of a husband she has. If only things were different he wonders. If only..
"Same place as before, and as soon as possible if you can", Moya replies regaining composure.
"Alright. I'll be there", Tim says, "and in the mean time I'll be praying for you".
"Thank you", she says with a noticeable lightness in her voice again and she meant it whole heartedly.
"Tá grá agam duit", Moya says, she knows Tim would understand what she meant.
Also she knew it was a lot safer to say "I love you" in her first language, Irish, because she was certain Pat wouldn't understand it.
"I love you too Moya", Tim replied, "and I'll call you as soon as I land and then we can talk about everything"
"Okay, be careful", she responded.
At the same time she was silently praying that she could think of some excuse to get away from Pat for a week to go back to Gaoth Dobhair.
"Don't worry I will and I'll see you soon. Bye" he said.
"Alright, bye", she said and with that he was gone.
She sits there for a few more moments, still clutching the phone. Her gloomy mood from earlier had been replaced with elation. For the first time in two days she was smiling and it wasn't fake. Now, all that was left was for Moya to figure out how to get to Gaoth Dobhair with out having Pat tag along. She remembered her tea was still in the kitchen along with the mail, she decided that it was time to get back to that, but as Moya was leaving her music room the thing she'd been trying to avoid happened – she ran into..
"Pat", Moya said nervously, "I was just coming back to…"
Before she can finish that thought he cuts her off, and Moya can clearly see that he's mad, she can only draw one conclusion, he'd eavesdropped on her conversation.
"Oh, believe me Moya", Pat says arrogantly, "I know damn well what you were going to do".
"Really, Pat?", she says with a terribly sarcastic edge to her voice, "and just what was that, since you cut me off midsentence".
Moya would really like to not have this argument. So, she tries to sidestep around Pat, however it doesn't work and the next thing she knew was that he had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back in front of him. Now he was holding her by the wrists very tightly.
"Don't walk away from me Moya", Pat seethed with anger, "I know you are planning something behind my back, cause I heard that whole little exchange between you and Tim"
"That was a work related discussion", Moya says firmly, she is still struggling to free her self from his vice grip.
"Yeah right you little bitch", he said as he let go of her left wrist for a moment.
She seized the opportunity to try and leave but she only got a few steps away before she recalled that he still has a firm grip on her right wrist. This became evident because she found herself stuck between the hall wall and an angry Pat. This wasn't a good place to be.
"Let me go Pat", Moya said, "You're hurting me" this time her anger was replaced by a certain amount of fear.
"And you think secret conversations don't hurt me, you slept with him - didn't you?!", he retorted.
"I am not having an affair", she replied.
The only thing that comment got Moya was the opportunity to be on the receiving end of a stinging slap. Pat knew that he shouldn't have slapped her because the look on her face told the whole story. Moya's face got really pale as she backed away from him and then she turned and bolted up the stairs to their room. He wondered if he should go up and apologize because she'd been up there for a half an hour already. What could she possibly be doing he thought?
Pat's question was soon answered when Moya came down the stairs dressed in jeans and a maroon blouse with her backpack over her shoulder and purse in hand. She walked through the kitchen, found a pair of sandals, and then proceeded to walk out the back door on to the deck before he realised that she was leaving. He hurried out the door to try and stop her.
"Moya, where are you going?", Pat asked trying to make some sense of the scene unfolding before him.
"Somewhere other than here obviously", Moya said with total sarcasm.
All of a sudden lightning flashed in the sky above her head. She had seen the gathering storm clouds all afternoon and figured that it was only a matter of time before it would hit.
"Are you out of your mind?", he yelled at her above the thunder and wind, "it's storming and here you are leaving in the worst of it"
"You know what I might be however a little storm isn't going to stop me", she replied.
"A little storm – Moya for God's sake", Pat said while shaking his head in total disbelief, "Look at the clouds, the rain, the lightning"
"As you can see I don't care", Moya said her voice ringing with defiance, as her dark brown hair blew in the wind.
On that note Moya got in her car, put the key in the ignition, and slowly backed out of the driveway. She knew that Pat wouldn't dare to come after her in this weather.
After adjusting the radio to a station that would give her the weather conditions and some great music, Moya looked at her watch. 4:30pm. She could be in Gaoth Dobhair in four hours. The roads leading up there were better now but she decided that the weather could be a factor as she got into the mountains, so five hours was a more reasonable estimate.
Meanwhile, Tim was at Heathrow Airport in London, trying to book a flight to Ireland. After standing in line for what seemed like an eternity, he managed to get some service and therefore tickets on Aer Lingus to Donegal Airport!
Moya has been driving for about two hours, this storm is making it really hard to see and she's wondering if Tim has managed to get a flight out. So, she decides that it's time for a break, a coffee, and a phone call to England.
"Hello?", Tim says while standing in the middle of the terminal.
"Hey, did you manage to get a flight?", Moya replied.
"Yes I did, and how are you?", he asks with a note of concern in his voice.
"I left him, Tim.", she says while tears spring into her eyes, "I didn't say where I was going I just left".
"You left – why?", he questions.
Tim is now thinking something terrible has happened because Moya has never just left Pat. His mind is going through all the possible reasons that she could have just left her husband with out saying a word as to where she was headed. Tim now knows he needs to see her again..
"I'll explain when I see you", she says with a bit of sadness in her voice that he notices.
"Okay, my plane will be in at 10 tonight", he says, "then we can talk"
"Yes. I'll meet you near baggage claim at the bottom of the escalator", Moya replies.
"Alright", Tim says, "where are you now?"
"I'm at a coffee shop taking a break because the weather isn't that good", she says just happy to hear his voice.
"Oh really, what's it doing?", he questions.
"Raining cats and dogs", Moya replies flatly.
"You should be used to that though – I mean what else is it supposed to do in Donegal other than rain", he says jokingly.
"You have a point", she says with a laugh, "at least it is not winter or this would all be snow"
"Very true", he says.
"So, I'll see you at 10 then", Moya says
"Right", Tim replies, "and Moya"
"Yes?", she asks softly.
"I love you", he says.
"Well I love you too", she responds, "I should get going again, the rain is slowing down".
"Be careful, honey", he says with concern.
"Don't worry I'll be careful, I've made this drive many times", she says.
"I know, but..", he starts to protest.
"Tim, I'll be fine", Moya says in a reassuring tone.
"Okay", he says, he has confidence in her but still the weather has him worried.
"Bye", she says as she gathers her purse and coffee to begin walking back to the car.
"Bye Moya", he replies, and with a click she was gone though they'd be together soon.
Moya needs to find a new radio station that will give her the latest weather conditions for Gaoth Dobhair as she about an hour and a half away. So far she's not had much luck since keeping a radio station because she's now driving through the mountains. Finally,
She reaches Donegal airport which is a short drive from Gaoth Dobhair. Moya looks at her watch, 9:30pm, "great", she thinks to herself "just enough time to find a place to park and go inside".
Tim has gotten off the plane and is now making his way through the crowd to the baggage claim, and Moya. As he descends the escalator, he sees her. Tim sees that she's tired and looks upset. At that moment, Moya looks up from the book she's reading and sees that Tim's coming down the escalator, their eyes meet.up against the hallway wall and gasping for air. She moaned, shuddering against him, thinking only that it had been way too long since she had felt this kind of connection with anyone and admitting to herself that it was only Tim who could give it to her. Aware of the Then he kissed her. At first his kisses were feather light and gentle but as the emotion of direction this was headed Moya broke away before they both got too carried away.
"Honey, my parents are going to wonder where we disappeared to", Moya said wthe evening took over they became harder and more insistent until Moya was backed hile slowly pushing Tim back from her.