was laid out in a simple dress and cardigan and looked just like she was asleep although as Carly cast her eyes towards Granny’s feet she had to stifle a chuckle. Granny was wearing rather fetching bootee-style slippers. Carly was fighting hard to control the giggles that were starting deep inside her. She was desperate to drag Fergus over but he was still deep in muffled conversation. There was lots of backslapping from the men and they joined her at the coffin.
‘Ahh, she’s sleeping peacefully now. Bless her,’ said Padraig as he put his arms round Fergus and Carly. ‘Now, will you do me a wee favour and translate to me laddo here?’ he asked Carly.
‘Of course.’ Carly faced him but now he was fiddling with his phone.
‘Hang on … just a minute there,’ he said slowly as he scrolled up and down the phone’s screen.
Fergus took Carly’s fingers in his and held them with the lightest of touches, and when she looked at him he was smiling. She squeezed his hand. It was an odd place to have a moment, but a moment it was. They could have been anywhere; it was just the two of them acknowledging the other one’s closeness.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ whispered Fergus.
‘And me,’ signed Carly, with her free hand. Fergus’s fingers tightened their grip and Carly felt something ping deep inside. This was what she wanted; she wanted to feel that closeness between them that she had feared was slipping away. Fergus turned his head to look at Granny and, mirroring him, Carly did too.
Suddenly Granny’s voice echoed around the sparsely furnished room. ‘Can you hear me?’ she said. Carly gripped Fergus’s hand and he looked at her with the same relaxed smile because he couldn’t hear it. Carly shot a look at Granny. ‘Now that you’re here I wanted to say a few words …’ Granny’s lips were definitely not moving and Carly was sure she’d never been a ventriloquist.
‘Are you not going to be telling him what she’s after saying?’ Uncle Padraig was looking mildly irritated as he waved his phone. Carly opened her mouth and then closed it again because she was feeling a little queasy, but she managed a nod. Padraig rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll start it again then,’ he said, as he fiddled once more with his phone. Carly let out a deep sigh and tapped Fergus’s arm so he was ready to read what she signed.
Thankfully it was a short message that Granny had recorded a few months ago, at her birthday gathering, saying what a good life she’d had and how proud she was of all of her family. She finished with an odd sentence. ‘… and remember: it’s easy to halve the potato where there’s love.’ Carly knew she was frowning but she couldn’t help it. What was the woman talking about?
Fergus started to laugh and Padraig joined in. ‘I’ll leave you to your prayers,’ said Padraig, his face abruptly becoming sombre. He patted Fergus on the shoulder and left the room. Fergus stood for a while with his head bent and his eyes closed and Carly did the same until she’d run out of things to pray for. She had another look at Granny in her bootee slippers and it made her smile. Maybe that was the idea? You never knew with the Irish, they were always up for the craic.
The Irish seemed to have a good balance when it came to death, thought Carly. The funeral was a long drawn-out and sad affair, as funerals often are, where many cried and a few wailed, which took Carly by surprise at first but a steadying hand and a few words about Irish traditions from Cormac had her understanding it all a little better. Once that was over it was all about celebrating Granny’s life, all the things she had done and achieved. And while it wasn’t the most adventurous or high-achieving existence, everyone had high praise for her as a mother, grandmother, friend and neighbour, and to the people who knew her best that was what really counted.
Carly managed to lure Fergus away from a riotous drinking game.
‘It’s noisy in there, are you okay?’
He shrugged. ‘They’re all family, they know about my deafness and that it makes no difference to who I am.’
‘Doesn’t stop it being noisy?’ said Carly.
‘No, but it does stop it bothering me.’ He put his arm round her shoulder, pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head.
‘I saw you signing with that lady in the navy dress earlier. That was nice.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ laughed Fergus. ‘Mary is something like me mam’s third cousin twice removed and she learned to sign years ago when her donkey went deaf.’
‘What?’ said Carly, starting to laugh.
‘Well, she thinks she knows some sign language but I think she’s making half of the signs up so it was either her donkey or her neighbour that she signed and I’d like to imagine it was the former!’
When their laughter had dwindled Carly remembered something she wanted to ask. ‘What did Granny mean about the halving of a potato?’ she asked. She had been puzzling over it ever since.
‘It’s easy to halve the potato where there’s love,’ repeated Fergus. ‘It’s an old Irish proverb …’ Carly started to snigger. ‘It is! And it means that if you’re surrounded by love then however little you have it’s easier to share it.’
Carly stopped sniggering. ‘That’s actually quite sweet.’
‘I know,’ said Fergus emphatically and he kissed her softly.
The lady in the navy dress approached and signed to them both that there was ‘chicken cake’ if they’d like some. Fergus started to giggle as Carly kindly signed back that they would love some ‘lemon cake’ although she used the correct sign for ‘lemon’. Confusing the two was an easy mistake for a novice signer to make.
Petra was being attentive during Beth’s lunchtime shift and she figured that she must have spoken to Jack. When it was time to go, Beth was zipping up her coat when Petra came over to her. ‘Are you sure you are okay? I am a little worried,’ she said.
‘I’m fine, honest.’
‘Good. Then I won’t ask again. What is the next project at the cottage?’
‘Oh, decorating mainly but at some stage I need to tackle the stairs. They are missing a few spindles and that sort of craftsmanship is expensive so I’m not sure what I’ll do with them. But I’ll think of something.’
‘What about a night class? They do them at the college. I can have Leo and you can borrow my moped. All you need to do now is find one that gives you these skills. Okay?’
It made Beth smile at how quickly Petra seemed to solve her problem. ‘Okay, I’ll look into it.’
‘Good, you must do this.’ Petra squeezed her arm for emphasis. Beth couldn’t help but be touched by her support. The feeling that someone local had become a friend and was keen to offer suggestions to help her achieve her goal was heartwarming and despite everything else that was going on it made her feel calm.
Back at the cottage over a well-earned cup of tea Beth found herself searching the internet on her phone for carpentry courses. By the time she had reached
