Arriving
Rory's trip to see his sister Emerald had been a waste of time in his opinion. He had tracked her down the next morning. She was still married to the same man and had twelve children the youngest just over a year old. Her husband was a shipwright and they lived not far from the docks. His sister couldn't see why he would associate with Protestants and take his education in England. She informed him their mother was staying with their oldest sister Jean and was doing poorly. They didn't expect her to make it past Christmas. Rory didn't stay long. He made his excuses and headed for the train.
Emerald hadn't asked him anything about his new post and he hadn't volunteered where he was headed. As he walked to the train station he wondered yet again how he could be so radically different than the rest of his family. Sometimes it felt as though he had been dropped from a passing gypsy wagon or picked up from the side of the road. He had more in common with the Drake children who were now almost grown than he did with his own siblings.
During the train ride Rory kept himself busy with reading the latest medical journals. His former family was forgotten as he eagerly transferred trains. At least he thought he was transferring trains. The people at the station assured him the train came through but no one at the station seemed to know when the train for Ballybunion was leaving. Rory asked for directions and after receiving three different versions of how to get to Ballybunion, he gave up. He went outside the station to wait for the train.
A horse drawn buggy pulled up alongside him. A middle-aged couple was in the buggy with the man driving.
"And who might you be?" the man inquired.
"Dr. Lester, I'm headed for Ballybunion," Rory replied.
"Well, get your things and come along. We drove down to see if you were on the train. We've been meeting the train for the last few days to see if you'd be on it. We're the Lonogans of the Ballybunion Hotel," Mrs. Lonogan said.
"Pleased to meet you," Rory replied. He went to retrieve his bags.
"Most folks don't take the train to the town," Mr. Lonogan informed Rory once they were on their way. "They book a cab for the rest of the trip."
"Folks around will be right glad you've showed up," Mrs. Lonogan said. "The closest doctor was Tralee for a long while. They have a doctor in Listowel now, but the word is he's leaving in two months. So you'll be seeing to folks from over there as well pretty soon. You're accent sounds like you're from around Dublin. Do you have family there?"
"I'm from Dublin originally. My family lives in London. I did my training in England. London actually."
"And yet you want to come here?" Mrs. Lonogan replied. She was a bit of a busy body and couldn't wait to be the first to get all the news on the new doctor.
"I like the country," Rory replied.
"You'll see more than your bellyful here," Mr. Lonogan said. "Do you golf?"
"No, I fly fish."
"Eerp, we got fishing too. I prefer to fish off the beach."
"Geoff, must you discuss fishing and golf wherever we go. Not everyone wants to talk about fish," Mrs. Lonogan complained.
"What type of fish do you catch off the beach," Rory questioned. He was quite amused by the older woman's questioning and the husband's complete lack of interest in anything but fish and golf.
"Cod, near the rocks, sea bass if you go off shore in a boat, flounder and haddock you can catch with a line. Decent trout and perch if you fish fresh water."
"Do you have a wife?" Mrs. Lonogan inquired. She couldn't help herself.
"I'm afraid I'm single," Rory replied. "Any special equipment required for catching perch?"
"Nope, just a worm on your hook. If they're biting they'll hit on anything. I tried ham once, worked better than a worm."
"I'll have to try that," Rory said.
"Do you have a sweetheart?" Mrs. Lonogan asked.
"I'm afraid not," Rory replied.
"Now Mary, leave the man alone. The next thing you know you'll be sending the matchmaker around to his door. He's only just arrived."
"I'm just being neighborly," Mary Lonogan said sweetly to her husband.
"No, you're being an old busy body. Leave the man be. Let him get settled a week or two at least before he you have him picking out a wife."
Rory was trying his best not to laugh.
"Dr. Lester, I must say you look very young. Folk might be put off by such a young doctor." Mrs. Lonogan said. "How old are you?"
"Mary, must you!"
"Well, people are going to want to know," she retorted indignantly to her husband.
Rory couldn't keep in a huge smile any longer.
"Mrs. Lonogan, I'm twenty-five years old and a licensed surgeon. I was born and raised in Dublin and educated in London. I'm single with no commitments. I have no family in Ireland to speak of. I like fishing and country life. My favorite food is cherry cobbler and I don't care for soda bread. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"
"That should about do it," Mr. Lonogan said with a snigger until his wife spoke again.
"Do you prefer blondes or redheads?"
Rory couldn't help it and burst out laughing.
"I don't see what is so humorous," she said with an indignant look.
Rory had to pull out his handkerchief to wipe away the tears of laughter that were rolling down his cheeks. Luckily they had finally arrived at the doctor's cottage.
The cottage was a good size Rory found with three bedrooms and a sitting room, upstairs. Downstairs the front of the cottage was set up with a waiting room, examination room and office. Someone from the village had been by and cleaned the cottage in preparation for Rory's arrival. Wood was neatly stacked by the back door and each of the fireplaces. There was no electricity or running water but a stunning view of the ocean from the front of the house made up for it.
It didn't take Rory long to unpack his few possession and place his few pictures on the dresser in the room he had chosen. He picked up the framed picture of the Drakes and their three children and looked at it a moment before moved to put it in the drawer. He stopped himself and set it back on the dresser. The image of Colleen, their oldest stared back at him. She was six years younger than Rory, a Yorkshire girl with long blonde hair and eyes like giant blue buttons that made Rory's heart melt every time he looked at her.
She had been eleven when he first arrived and followed him about showing him the ins and outs of the farm. He had played kick ball in the yard with her and her younger brothers in the evenings and pushed her on the swing under an old oak tree. He had been so worked up in those days and trying to figure out who he was he hadn't paid her much mind. Things had changed the last summer he worked for the Drakes. Colleen had changed. She had turned into a beautiful young girl while he had been at school over the winter. When she sat across from him at the table he thought his heart would burst and pour out onto the table for everyone to see. Of course he knew the scientific reasons for his desire, but when it had hit him full force he hadn't known what to say in her presence.
He couldn't and wouldn't ask her out, no matter what. He owed the Drakes too much for giving him his first start in England and taking him into their home. Rory suspected John Drake wouldn't approve of an Irish Catholic suitor for Colleen. The Drakes attended the village church every Sunday and as far as Rory knew they expected all of their children to do the same. Rory had spent the summer in misery and gone back to school to begin full year courses in the training hospital. After that his visits to the farm had been infrequent and his main contact with the family had been through the post.
On his last trip to Downton to Lord Grantham's shooting party he had stopped by the Drake farm for an afternoon. He had been introduced to Colleen's beau, a boy her own age from the local village. Rory had kissed Mrs. Drake and Colleen goodbye on the cheek before he left. His gaze had lingered on Colleen's probably longer than was respectable, but no one else seemed to notice.
Rory shook himself out of his reverie. Enough mooning over an English girl you don't have a chance with, he reminded himself. He headed out the door of the cottage and into the small town. He had to find a grocer and buy something to stock his cupboards before he starved. Setting up the surgery and arranging office hours could wait.