Chapter Fifteen
Sunday Excursion
Ma had returned to the house in Clontarf late the following morning, long after both Tom and Sybil had left for work. So it was not until their return home on the evening of the same day that they learned that young Ruari was likely to make a full recovery from the injuries he had sustained in his fall from the hay loft out at the farm; which, his broken arm apart, were comparatively minor, given what might have been. And with her, Ma also brought an invitation
So it was, that after their more or less spur-of-the-moment visit both to Trinity College, and thereafter to the National Gallery in Merrion Square, the following Sunday, in response to the heartfelt invitation from Ciaran and Aislin, that Ma, Tom and Sybil found themselves out at the farm on the Clontarf Castle estate for a meal at midday.
When Sybil asked how far it was to the farm, Tom laughed said it was a beyont sort of a place. She looked quizzically at him.
"You'd say back of beyond" said Tom with a grin.
After church, accompanied by his eldest boy Ruari, still with his arm in a sling after his fall, Ciaran came over for them all in the waggonette and took them out to the farm. They arrived slightly later than intended owing to one of the two horses pulling the waggonette having cast a shoe, necessitating a stop at the estate forge on the way over.
The weather remained hot and sultry, with the threat of thunder in the air, or as Ciaran termed it "fierce warm" and added that it was so hot that the "sun be splittin' the stones".
Having helped both Ma and Sybil into the back of the brightly painted waggonette, Tom clambered up onto the front box seat next to Ciaran, while Ma in her Sunday best and Sybil made themselves comfortable opposite young Ruari in the back of the four-wheeled vehicle. The previous evening Tom had said that the countryside round the farm was very picturesque, so Sybil had rummaged in her trunk, found her sketchbook and pencils, and brought them along with her.
With the growing warmth of the steadily rising sun rapidly lifting the mist from off the grass, with bright sunlight dappling through the hanging boughs of the trees above their heads, to the jingling clink of harness, the rumble of wooden wheels, and the steady clip clop of heavy shod hooves, they set off.
It soon became only too obvious that in young Ruari, Sybil had found herself a young admirer. At thirteen, Ruari was on the cusp of manhood, his voice just breaking. Casting furtive sideways glances at her from under a thatch of black hair throughout the entire journey, whenever Sybil tried to engage him in conversation, to ask him what he did on his parents' farm, the poor lad found himself tongue-tied. Like on occasion, Tom was wont to do, Ruari blushed furiously and looked anywhere else than at Sybil. Sensing the poor boy's embarrassment, wisely Sybil forbore from trying to engage him in conversation, sat back on her seat, and enjoyed the gentle, unhurried pace of the leisurely journey out to Ciaran's farm, while young Ruari chatted with his grandmother.
When, as inevitably he did, Tom became aware of what had been happening behind him, he laughingly took the whole business in his stride, from time to time turning round on his seat up on the box to look at Ruari, then to grin broadly at Sybil. Eventually, having left the coast and the straggling increasingly suburban village of Clontarf far behind them, Ciaran deftly turned the two glossy black white fetlocked Shires pulling the rumbling waggonette off the metalled road and onto a narrow unmade lane which led on up to the white walled reed thatched farmhouse buried deep in the verdant, countryside of County Dublin.
The meal which followed their arrival at the farm was an extremely convivial, if noisy, lively, boisterous affair and bore no resemblance whatsoever to the strictly regimented, staid luncheons to which Sybil was accustomed at Downton Abbey. Ciaran and Aislin's brood of five children, even Riordan the youngest, all took turns in their various ways in vying for the undivided attentions of both their Uncle Tom and "Aunt" Sybil.
Before they sat down to eat, seated in the window seat in Ciaran and Aislin's homely kitchen, overlooking the farm yard, Tom had found himself assailed from all sides by his nephews and nieces and soon took on the appearance of the Pied Piper of Hamlin with Riordan seated on his lap while his two nieces Mairead and Rosaleen sat on either side plying him with questions. For her part, Sybil was dragged outside to meet the horses by Ruari - who by now had overcome his shyness - and Ronan; who between them had fought for the privilege of carrying her suitcases upstairs for her when she had first arrived at Ma's house in Clontarf.
"Know what Tom" chuckled Ciaran,
"No. What?" asked Tom. He looked up somewhat perplexed.
"Some day you're going to make a wonderful father, but in the meantime if you want to take any of this lot off our hands, you'd be more than welcome!"
It was after the meal was over when it happened.
The two girls were inside in the kitchen helping Ma do the washing up, across the yard, Ruari, ably aided by Ronan, were feeding and watering the two cart horses, while Sybil, Tom and Ciaran were all sitting outside on a bench resting their backs against the sun kissed stone of the south facing wall of the farmhouse. Beside them, on a ladder back chair brought out from the kitchen, sat Aislin with Riordan on her knees. To the delight of Ruari and Ronan, Sybil had already made sketches for them of several of the farm's chickens, and had now all but finished a pencil drawing of their happy, gurgling little brother dapper in his white muslin sun bonnet. As it had progressed, Aislin, who had taken great interest in Sybil's sketch of her youngest, said she hadn't realised how talented Sybil was.
Sybil thought differently. She demurred and said so.
"I don't think I'll ever make a very good cook".
"Oh, don't be worrying about that" said Aislin. "You'll be picking it up fast enough, Sybil. You'll have to. Mark my words, Tommy gets grumpy if he isn't fed!"
"So I've noticed", said Sybil and laughed.
"She's a fast learner too, Aislin" chuckled Tom.
"I don't be doubting it Tommy. Bright as a button this one". Aislin patted Sybil's knee reassuringly. "And Ma's a very good cook and a good teacher I'll be bound. You've done well my lad in biding awhile before deciding to wed, and in choosing Sybil here, why you've struck lucky, make no mistake". At Aislin's kind words, Sybil blushed furiously.
"But to be able to be drawing like that now" said Ciaran pointing to Sybil's now almost completed sketch of Riordan, "why tis a rare God given gift to be sure".
"Not that these days I usually have any time to sketch any more", said Sybil regretfully. "Why last year, even when I was nursing at ..."
"Whoa! What did you just say Aislin? Say that again", asked Tom. Despite the heat of the day, despite the seeming ordinariness of Aislin's words, for one unguarded moment, Tom suddenly felt himself go very cold, felt his heart begin to beat in queer fits and starts. Sybil too had heard only too clearly what Aislin had just said, for she stopped drawing, her pencil poised in mid air. At the same time noticing immediately the change in Tom, her eyes became full of concern.
"Darling, are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine, love. It's just the heat". He was lying of course, and even if the others didn't realise it, Sybil did. After all, Tom was probably the world's worst liar; he could never mask his true feelings.
"The heat?" laughed Ciaran. "Why Tommy, England must have made you soft, lad. You always loved the sun!"
Tom smiled thinly, said nothing, and remained tight lipped.
"Ciaran told me that Mrs. O'Rourke on the estate here thinks she knows your Sybil", repeated Aislin patiently.
Tom and Sybil exchanged meaningful glances over Riordan's bonnet. When in Clontarf, by mutual agreement, they both kept themselves very much to themselves; they certainly had no dealings with anyone from off the Clontarf Estate. Oblivious to the effect that her seemingly innocuous remark had on both Tom and Sybil, unconcerned, Aislin continued to bounce young Riordan on her knee, while Sybil tried to resume her sketching, making the last finishing touches to her drawing of the little boy.
"But how ..." began Tom.
"I suppose ... from my work at the hospital, Tom", replied Sybil dispassionately and with a seeming equal unconcern to match that of Aislin.
"Oh, no. Not that at all for sure", replied Aislin. ""Why, her child bearing days be done with. She's nigh on fifty!"Aislin laughed and continued to make eyes at little Riordan.
"Who the hell is Hannah O' Rourke anyway?" demanded Tom.
"Language Tom", said Aislin sharply. Tom flushed.
"The blacksmith's wife", explained Ciaran.
"So how does she come to know Sybil, if not from her work at the Coombe?" asked Tom somewhat mystified.
"It's nothing to be doing with her work at the Coombe, Tommy lad. Her husband told me his wife said she knew Sybil from when she were a girl", said Ciaran.
"From when Hannah was still in service", added Aislin by way of further explanation.
Tom and Sybil's eyes met once again over Riordan's bobbing little head.
"Where exactly was she in service?" asked Sybil, trying desperately to keep her voice neutral.
"Somewhere down near Cork, or so I be understanding. Least that be what Seamus told you, wasn't it now Ciaran?"
Ciaran nodded.
"Well, that's bloody absurd", said Tom.
"Tom, language!" said Sybil as sharply as Aislin had done moments before. "Sorry" he mumbled. "But Sybil's never ever been to Cork! Why, until a few weeks ago she'd never even set foot in Ireland". He looked across at Sybil for confirmation, who merely nodded, then shrugged her shoulders.
"She must be mistaking me for someone else" said Sybil calmly.
"I suppose she must" said Aislin.
"That's the only possible explanation", said Tom and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief, felt the rhythm of his heart begin to steady. At this point, having finished feeding and watering the horses, Ruari and Ronan came running across to them from the other side of the farmyard, and the awkward moment passed.
Of course, if earlier that same day Ciaran had bothered to pay rather more attention than he had done to what it was that Seamus O'Rourke was saying to him about Sybil, then things might have turned out somewhat differently. However, what with the sweltering heat both in and outside the forge, let alone the deafening noise, already late and impatient to be off down into Clontarf to collect Ma, Tom, and Sybil, Ciaran hadn't really bothered to listen to what Seamus had been saying.
And, after all, reasoned Ciaran and Aislin later that evening when they were in bed, how on earth could it possibly matter to anyone, least of all to Sybil herself, whether or not Hannah O'Rourke had known her at some time in the distant past? The answer to that was that it most certainly did matter, as events were very shortly to demonstrate and in a way that none of them sitting outside in the warm afternoon June sunshine could ever possibly have imagined.
"Are you goin' to be showing Sybil the Rainbow Pool before tea then Tommy? It's a rare and beautiful place to be sure", said Ciaran. "Why I taught him to dive there, Sybil. From off the ledge. You remember, don't you Tommy? And all the fuss you made, about havin' no bathing suit. I made him dive in all the same, as naked as the day he were born!"
"Uncle Tom went swimming ...without a bathing suit?" chorused both Ruari and Ronan, not quite believing what it was they were hearing.
Sybil giggled, Aislin too, while Tom blushed furiously.
"Thanks, Ciaran. Thanks a lot!" said Tom.
"So, you goin' to show her or not?" asked Ciaran.
"Of course", answered Tom. "That is ... if she'd really like to see ..."
"See what? You or the pool?" interrupted Sybil archly. She grinned broadly at Tom, could hear her grandmother saying: "Sybil, vulgarity is no substitute for wit". Maybe not though Sybil, but there was no denying the fact that it was so much more fun!
"Why the pool you little minx!" growled Tom.
They all roared with laughter at that, Ruari and Ronan joining in too, thankfully blissfully unaware of what it was that was making all the grown-ups so singularly amused, and Ma, Aine, and Aoibheann, came out to see what all the fuss was about.
"Why, of course I would, Tom. After all, you've told me so much about your enchanted pool!" laughed Sybil.
"Ench ...Well, I'm not sure if I be knowing what that means, but it be a grand place for sketching all the same!" said Ciaran with a grin.
"Then what are we waiting for, Tom?" asked Sybil and laughed again. She had, she reflected, never felt happier, with Tom by her side, and made so welcome by this loving family now gathered here together in the sunlit farmyard midst the beautiful, rolling countryside of County Dublin.