The following afternoon, Jed pulled the car to a standstill on Ballykane's main street again. He looked round at Abbey, frowning doubtfully. "Are you sure about all this?"

"Absolutely. C'mon, Jed, I've already told you that Mary was fine about it when I called her this morning. She's expecting us."

"Okay."

They got out the car and walked along the street to the stone cottage, but even before they'd had chance to knock, the door opened.

"I saw ye comin' along the street," said the old lady.

"Hello again, Mary – it's good of you to see us – and this, of course, is my husband."

"It's a great honour to meet ye, Mr President, sir," Mary said, holding out her hand to return his handshake. "Do come in, both of ye' – tho' who would ever believe I'd have the President of America in my sittin' room!"

Abbey smiled. "Mary, I already told you – we're just Jed and Abbey – so please don't stand on ceremony!"

"But ye'll have a cup o' tea? The tray's all ready in the kitchen."

"So let me get that while you talk to Jed."

Jed followed Mary into the front room. "Do sit down, sir," she said, "here, let me take your coat – and make yerself comfortable, sir."

He smiled as he slipped off his fleece jacket. "Mary – I can call you Mary, can't I?"

"Aye, of course ye can, ev'ryone does."

"So you must call me Jed – okay?"

"Well, I'll try," Mary said a little doubtfully.

Jed sat down on the couch and leaned forward. "First I want to thank you for giving Abbey the letter, it meant a lot to me, more than I could ever tell you."

"Abbey tells me ye've only just found out about your mother and Eddy?"

"Yes, that's right. It was quite by chance too."

"So she never told you." It was a statement, not a question. "She said t'at John had made her promise to keep it secret, t'at he didn't want any reminders of Eddy."

"Well, you've answered that question for us," Jed acknowledged with a smile, "although it didn't exactly work out as he wanted."

"No, I can see t'at," Mary replied. "Because even I can see Eddy in you."

Jed looked at her curiously. "I was always told I looked like my mother."

"Aye, and ye do too. Ye've got her blue eyes – but ye've got that depth in your eyes that Eddy had – and ye've certainly got his smile and the way he tilted his head a little when he smiled too. And his hair used to fall for'ard over his forehead just like yours does. Oh aye, I can see that ye're Eddy's son an' no mistake."

"Did she write to you again – after that first letter, I mean?"

"Aye, just a coupla times – I don't know what happened to the other letters, I could on'y find that first one. But she did come back here once, when her Da died, that was sometime in the fifties."

"Yeah, I remember that – I was about twelve. I wanted to come to Ireland with her, but they wouldn't let me take time out from school. Did you meet with her again then?"

"Aye, on'y the once tho – 'cept for the funeral, o' course. We went for lunch at Connolly's – 'for old times' sake,' she said, cause that was where she had met Eddy. And she said then that she still thought about him, and that you were just like him – and that John sometimes couldn't cope with it." Mary paused and looked at him for a moment. "So he gave you a hard time, di'n't he?"

Jed nodded slowly. "Sometimes, yes." It seemed odd to be speaking about his childhood to this old lady who was a total stranger, but somehow it was easier than talking about it to people who knew him. "He didn't like me."

"Because you were growing up to be just like Eddy – and John was always jealous of his brother – that's what Annie told me."

"Yes, I'm just starting to understand that now." Jed hesitated and then asked, "Did she know?"

"Know what?"

"How he treated me?"

Mary frowned. "She said he was sharp with you, sometimes hurtful in what he said, the way he put you down when you said or did something he didn't like – something that maybe reminded him too much of Eddy."

Jed nodded slowly. "Yeah," he conceded. "Yeah."

"She wanted so much for you and John to get closer, ye know?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Aye, she thought that if on'y John could get over his jealousy of Eddy, then maybe he and you could have a real father-son relationship."

Jed shook his head slightly. "I'm afraid that never really happened, Mary." He turned as Abbey came into the room with the tea tray and the conversation ended while the tea was poured and the plate of oatmeal cakes was passed around.

"So – have you told Jed yet about how his Mom met Eddy?" Abbey asked as she sat down on the couch next to Jed.

"We've not got around to that yet," Jed replied.

"Oh, you must tell him, Mary, it's a lovely story."

"You want t' hear it?"

"Yes, of course," Jed said immediately. "Mary, you are the only person that I know who actually knew my real father – so anything you can tell me–"

He settled back against the couch and reached for Abbey's hand as Mary started to talk.

"Well, as ye know, it was 1946 and the American submarine had to put into the bay for repairs – something to do with the diving mechanism, I t'ink. Anyway, Annie and I were both doing the teacher's course at the college in Galway at the time, but we worked at Connolly's at night to get some extra money. It was a pub but it served food too, mainly fish and seafood, it still does. And this partic'lar night, a group of officers came in. Not yer ordinary sailors, 'cause that lot used to hang about in the bars in the town – and a lot o' girls went into the town jus' in the hope of pickin' up a sailor. But Annie and me, we weren't like that.

"Anyhow, these four officers got shown to a table – and we jus' looked at each other, cos they looked so smart an' handsome in their navy blue jackets with the gold buttons. Then one of them – that was Eddy – came to the bar, and it was Annie who served him, and I saw her and him laughing while she poured the beer. She told me afterwards that he was joking with her about the beer being warm and that she'd threatened to put some ice into it, which would've made it flat o'course.

"Then when he went back to his table with the drinks – and all through their meal too – I saw him glancing round at her every so often and I teased her – 'I t'ink he likes you,' I says, and she starts blushin' and says 'Don't be daft, Mary!'

"But the next night he came back, and he was on his own this time, and he sat on one of the stools at the bar, and they talked together almost all the time. And then, when it was closin' time, she comes to me and says 'Eddy wants to see me home, Mary – is t'at all right?' Well, we used to catch the bus to get to work, and then we had to wait for the last bus out o' Galway, but Eddy had got himself a car from somewhere, and he waited for Annie, and then when he saw I was headin' for the bus stop, he said, 'Come in the car too, Mary.'

"So t'at's what I did and I thought it was so kind o' him, he didn'a have to do it. But ev'ry night he came in the pub and then drove us back home again. And I sat in the back, kinda quiet like, while Annie and Eddy talked non-stop, they laughed such a lot too, I don't t'ink I'd ever seen Annie so alive and so happy. He used to stop the car just outside here, but after I'd got out, I knew that him and Annie stayed in the car, sometimes for an hour or more.

"About the third night, I says to her, 'Ye've taken a shine to him then, Annie?' An' she said, 'I'm in love wi' him – I've never felt like this before, I didn't think it could ever happen this fast." An' I says, 'But ye've on'y known him three days' and she jus' looked at me and said, 'I feel like I've known him all my life.' And there was jus' this look about her, and I knew she meant it.

"An' I could see why she'd fallen for him – it wasn't just that he was good-lookin', but he was fun an' he was carin' and he was really clever too, and he knew what he wanted to do with his life – he used to tell her about his career in the Navy – an' I remember him saying once 'And perhaps one day I can be part of the government, maybe even a Chief of Staff – that's my real aim, you know, to be able to have some influence in what my country does – and to try to make the world a better place'."

Jed drew in a quick breath and gripped Abbey's hand tightly. Stunned momentarily, he let the words sink in – 'to have some influence in what my country does – and to try to make the world a better place.'

"He could be echoing you there, Jed," Abbey said quietly.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, knowing that she was right. Eddy's words could have been his own – expressing that deep-down passion within himself that had led him to make the decision to run for election in New Hampshire – the beginning of the path that had taken him on to Congress, then the Governorship and finally to the Presidency – 'to have some influence in what my country does – and to try to make the world a better place.' And then he remembered his mother's words – 'the same determination, the same passion, the same idealism.'

"And that was my father," he breathed, shaking his head slightly as he tried to take in the enormity of the realisation. Not the stern and harsh John Bartlet – but a man who had had that same deep-down passion which had been passed on to himself. 'So I really am my father's son,' he thought – and even as he thought it, Eddy Bartlet became real to him. This was a man who had had the traits that he could relate to, a man who had had the determination, passion and idealism that somehow he had inherited.

He became aware that Abbey and Mary were both silent and watching him.

"Abbey said that I had to tell you jus' what Eddy had said," Mary said hesitantly.

Jed looked round at Abbey and saw the depth of understanding in her eyes as she nodded and squeezed his hand. He had to blink a few times and swallow hard before he could speak again. "How long was Eddy in Galway?" he asked, needing to get the conversation back on to an even track again.

"I t'ink it was just over two weeks," Mary replied.

"So that's all the time she had with him?"

"Aye, but it was enough for them both to fall in love. Ye could see it in their eyes, both of them. I'd known Annie since we were bairns, so I knew it was real for her. And he loved her too – and they were both so broken up the day before the sub was due to leave the bay. She told me afterwards that that was the night that – well, ye know. Eddy had booked them into the Great Southern, the big posh hotel in the middle of the city – and then the next day we watched the sub leave the bay, and she cried so much. But then she said that he'd asked her to go to America and marry him. An' she wrote to him every day, and he wrote back – and it was as well she lived at the Post Office, else she would've driven the postmaster mad, waitin' every day for a letter from him."

"What happened when she knew she was pregnant?" Jed felt strange asking about his mother being pregnant with himself.

"Aye, well, that was a few weeks later – when she knew for certain. An' she wrote to tell Eddy and she was really scared about it all. But then she got a telegram from him – I remember her comin' round here, and her face was so alight, an' she said, 'It's all right, Mary, it's all right – he's so thrilled, an' he's sendin' me the fare to go to America an' he still wants to marry me. It's all goin' to work out all right, Mary!'"

Jed looked down, drawing in a deep breath and fighting against the tears that threatened to flood his eyes at the image of his mother – so excited and so much in love – and so thrilled about the life ahead of her in America with Eddy.

Abbey squeezed his hand gently. "But it didn't work out all right, did it, Mary?" she said.

"Ah, t'at was such a tragedy," Mary replied. "I didn'a know anything about it till she sent me that letter, and I really couldn't understand why she'd decided to marry his brother."

Jed looked up again. "She was alone and pregnant in a strange country," he said, recalling what he'd said to Abbey just a couple of days before.

"Aye, and she was right wanting you to be born as an American and have all the advantages that being a Bartlet could give you. Better than growing up here – she was right to give you that."

Jed inclined his head slightly, and Mary smiled. "An' ye just did then exactly what Eddy would have done. You might never have known him – but you've got just the same ways as he had. But I'm forgettin' – I got a photograph here for ye." She reached to side of the hearth and handed a small black and white photograph across to Jed. "It's one my brother Sean took when a whole group of us went to Salthill on the Sunday afternoon."

Jed looked down at the photo which had been taken on the beach, with the bay and the low hills in the background. His mother was wearing a polka-dot print dress with white collar and white cuffs on the short sleeves and Eddy, his hair ruffled by the wind, had light coloured trousers and an open-necked shirt. They had their arms round each other and they were both laughing as they looked at each other.

"Mary's right," Abbey said. "He's tilting his head towards your Mom in just the same way that you do, Jed. And they do look so happy, both of them, don't they?

Jed nodded, still looking down at the photo before he started to hand it back to Mary.

"Nay, I want ye to have it," Mary said, "seein' as how it's your mother and father together."

"Thank you," Jed said quietly, not trusting himself to say any more as he gazed down at the photograph and left Abbey to continue chatting to Mary until eventually she said, "We really shouldn't take up any more of your time, Mary – and I think we ought to get home because I'm not sure that I trust Jed's driving on these country roads in the dark!"

Jed took the cue from her and shot her a look of mock indignation, then grinned across at Mary. "She has no faith in my driving at all, Mary – she thinks I'm gonna start driving on the wrong side of the road!"

Mary shook her head slightly. "Aye, an' ye've just echoed your father there, Jed – 'cause Annie always used to joke with Eddy about driving on the left. And he used to laugh and once he called to me over his shoulder – 'She has no faith in my driving, Mary – what d'you think about that then?'"

"Like father, like son then?" Abbey said, looking round at him with a smile. "Jed, you ready?"

"Yeah."

Mary stood up with them, and hesitated for a second. "Could I ask you to do something for me?"

They both turned and Mary picked up a magazine from the floor near her chair. "I found this picture of you both – I kept it 'cause ye really reminded me of Eddy, 'cept your hair's a bit tidier than his was in t'at old photo! So please would you sign it for me? And then my family won't t'ink I'm completely senile when I tell 'em I had the President and the First Lady here with me in my sittin' room?"

She held out the magazine and they both recognised the full-page photo of themselves in front of the desk in the Oval Office – Jed with his arm round Abbey's shoulder and her hand reaching up to hold his.

"Yes, of course," Jed said immediately. He took the pen that Mary was holding out and wrote quickly above his own head on the photo: 'Mary – thank you so much for everything, we'll never forget you – Jed Bartlet.' And Abbey added her own signature at the bottom of the photo and added 'A million thanks, Mary' and then the date.

As she handed the magazine back to Mary, she said, "Would you wait until next weekend before you show this to your family, Mary? Because we don't really want anyone to know we're here in Ireland – but by the weekend we'll be back in America."

"Aye, I'll do that – and it's been so good to meet you both."

"It's been more than good," Jed said quietly, leaning forward to kiss the old lady's cheek, "It's been one of the best days of my life, and I can't ever thank you enough."

A few minutes later, after he'd eased himself into the car seat, he leaned back for a few seconds and closed his eyes, his mind still trying to take in all that he had discovered that afternoon.

"Jed?" Abbey looked round at him anxiously. "Are you okay?"

He sat straight again and looked at her with a smile. "Yeah," he said, "I'm good – I'm really good. I guess I finally found my father."

Abbey's hand reached out to his. "And you're happy?"

Jed took her hand and kissed it. "Yes, I am. And tonight, sweetheart, you're gonna have to trust me to drive in the dark – because tonight we're going to Connolly's."

TBC