Chapter Eight

 

When Séan pulled over to pick them up Phil had already removed the film from the cameras, and they were ready to step into the skiff and push off at once.

"Did you have a good night?" Séan asked as he pulled across the lake.

"It was peaceful: and a lovely night to sleep under the stars!" Kate answered, squeezing Phil's hand to make sure he took his cue from her words.

"It certainly was!" he agreed " ... but I'll be interested to see what's on this set of film: if anything!" he added, mentally crossing fingers and toes in the hope that this would be enough to satisfy Séan's curiosity and forestall potentially awkward questions. The tactic seemed to work: Séan nodded, shipped oars, and hopped ashore to help Kate out of the boat.

"It's almost eight o'clock: Michael Ashe will have your breakfast ready, so we can leave to drive over to Ardcarne for Mass by nine or thereabouts."

"Have you had breakfast, then?"

"Yes thanks, Uncle Phil! And I've put my bicycle in the caravan, like you said: I can be grooming Gerald and get him into the traces while you're eating."

His boyish eagerness and thoughtfulness impressed Phil greatly, as did the automatic use of the ‘honorary title' which had Hugh's (provisional) approval. He made a mental note to ask Hugh privately if there was a suitable way to thank Séan for all his hard work.

Michael Ashe had laid out some cereals, with fresh bread, toast and some cheese and a selection of jams.

"Just something to break your fast, before you go over for Mass" he said, though neither Phil nor Kate had thought to question what was on offer.

"If you're peckish when you return, I can put an early lunch up for you ........ "

"Michael, you've other things to do: you've a pub to run!" Kate protested.

Michael blushed, and muttered something about he'd see how they felt when they got back from Mass, and left them to eat.

Séan was waiting for them when they emerged from the pub. He held Gerald's lead rein in one hand and smiled as he saw them. Gerald gleamed from nose to tail, the result of a thorough grooming from Séan, who had apparently also found time to polish up the brass and leather of the harness.

"Do you ever sleep, Séan?" Kate asked, only half-teasing: she was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable about the ‘special treatment' everyone seemed to assume they deserved.

Séan appeared to consider the question perfectly reasonable.

"Sure, my Grandpa always says: ‘Sleep? You're a long time dead!' - and if that's good enough for him, I'm sure it's good enough for me!" he said, blithely, and turned to hold Gerald's head more securely.

"Would you like me to hand you up, Aunt Kate?" he offered.

"Thank you, Séan, but I'm sure I'll manage!" she said, raising the hem of the single "posh Sunday frock" she'd packed for the holiday and stepping carefully from wheel trim to buckboard and eventually to the broad benchseat, where she was immediately joined by Séan. Phil completed the line-up.

"You're in the middle, Séan: would you mind driving, since you know the way to the church?" said Phil.

This seemed to make the young boy's happiness complete. Apparently unable to trust himself to speak, he nodded and chirruped Gerald into motion.

As they clopped along the road towards Ardcarne they passed people, family groups for the most part, who had evidently left before them to walk the two miles or so to the neighbouring village for Mass. Séan nodded and waved to everyone they met, and received smiles and greetings in return.

A bell began ringing as they entered the village proper.  Séan drew up at the church gates, holding Gerald steady as his passengers stepped down.

"From the bell, Mass will start in about ten minutes, I'm thinking: but Father Tomàs may well wait if he knows one or two regular parishioners are still on their way." he said. He hopped down and led Gerald over to an ancient-looking but serviceable drinking trough.

At the main door of the church, they were greeted warmly by Father Tomàs. The church was filling up quickly, so they excused themselves and made their way to a vacant pew which still had room for Séan, who scurried in to join them.

The congregation rose as Father Tomàs entered. He had changed and was now dressed in a green chasuble and stole. Two servers preceded him, one bearing the Missal, the other a thurifer. The incense was delicate, not overpowering. It had been some time since he had last attended a church service: Phil hoped he could remember all the appropriate placs to stand and sit.

"In ainm an Athar agus an Mhic agus an spioraid Naoimh. Amen."

Caught slightly flat-footed by the unexpected greeting, Phil automatically made the Sign of the Cross as he say everyone around him doing. Fervently he hoped that the whole service would not be conducted in a language - Gaelic, he assumed - which he had no chance of following. Father Tomàs paused, and to Phil's relief continued in English:

"Welcome, Brothers and Sisters, to our celebration of the Mass today, and a special welcome to all our guests, visiting relatives and holidaymakers! Now, to prepare ourselves, let us call to mind our sins: and after that, can I ask you to join in singing the Gloria, which will be led by the children of the school choir ........ "

As the readings and prayers followed, Phil found himself falling into the familiar habits, knowing where to stand and sit, and following the Mass easily enough from the service sheet he found beside him on the pew.

He was almost caught again after Father Tomàs' homily (which felt more like a chat with a favourite uncle) and the prayers for the congregation, read by a parishioner. He had realised that this normally ended with the well-known "Hail Mary" - but once again, he was obliged to pray silently as the rest of the congregation began once again in Gaelic:

"Sé do Bheatha Mhuire,
Tá lán do ghrásta ..... "  

"Hail Mary

Full of Grace .... "

When it was time for the Our Father, just before Communion was given out, he was more or less expecting Gaelic to be used, and contented himself with listening to and enjoying the beauty of the fluid vowels and liquid rhythms of the language.

As they did not attend church on a regular basis, Phil and Kate had decided to remain seated when the rest of the congregation filed to the altar rail to receive Communion. Father Tomàs, however, had other ideas and paused after the last parishioner had left the altar rail, and nodded encouragingly when he caught Phil's eye. Before the moment became embarrassingly long, Phil squeezed Kate's hand and they both rose and went forwards.

Instead of offering them the host, Father Tomàs laid one hand on each of them in turn and spoke once more the words of the Sign of the Cross. Phil suddenly remembered from his childhood that this Blessing was used by priests for non-Catholics who for whatever reason - often weddings and funerals - attended RC services.

After the Notices and Final Blessing, Father Tomàs reminded the congregation that there was tea and coffee in the Hall adjoining the church, and made a point of including "all our guests, especially those far from home."

With such a strong hint, it would have been impossible for anyone to decline the invitation: Phil and Kate trooped self-consciously into the Hall, but were quickly made to feel as welcome as if they had lived in Ardcarne all their lives.. It quickly became apparent that Hugh O'Gara had not lost time in informing people of the identity of the holidaymakers. If they had taken a tape recorder or notepad with them they could have had a dozen anecdotes about the McDermott family, and three or four times as many suggestions for further research into background history.

"I'll be cycling home, now: me Ma says I've to be back for lunch."

Automatically, Phil looked for the watch he wasn't wearing, caught himself and grinned at Séan, who had materialised at his elbow. Glancing around, he became aware of the fact that a majority of the congregation had each washed their own cups and departed, leaving Phil, Kate and Hugh along with the priest's housekeeper and a few stragglers as the only people still in the hall chatting with Father Tomàs. Hugh gave his cup to an elderly lady and said something to her: she trotted over to deliver it to the housekeeper and continued out of the door. Placing his hand on the arm of the last straggler, Hugh spoke a few words and began walking towards the door as the conversation developed. Phil had to admit that Hugh was a skilful diplomat: neither of the parishioners seemed to realise they'd been politely ‘railroaded' to leave Phil and Kate the opportunity for a private conversation with Father Tomàs.

"Hugh tells me you're here on holiday, and to dig a little into your family history."

Father Tomàs sat at the nearest table, indicating that he expected to be there for some time. Phil and Kate joined him. Hugh closed the door on the final parishioner, and stumped over to the group.

"We've not been here long - a matter of a few days - but we've found out a lot already, and Hugh has been very helpful in many ways," Phil began.

"For example, I doubt we'd have found out so quickly about the history of the family, and the  .......  duties, responsibilities .... "

Phil made vague, exasperated hand gestures, indicating that he was unsure of the proper words to use. Father Tomàs nodded encouragingly. Phil continued:

"I believe that certain things are .... expected of someone who wishes to claim the title an MacDairmada:  at least, that's what I understood from what Hugh was telling us!"

"One of these things is something which I believe is within your field of expertise, and Hugh thought we should ask for your advice."

"Kate and I were both born into Catholic families, but neither of us have been regular churchgoers for many years. When we married, three years ago, we were both recently graduated students, and poor as the proverbial! So we opted for a simple, civil service rather than the expense of a church wedding."

"What's important in the eyes of God is this: are you both committed to each other?"

The instinctive tightening of the mutual handclasp which the priest's interruption did not go unremarked, nor the glance which passed between Phil and Kate as they nodded their confirmation.

"As I said, Father, we're not regular churchgoers: but Hugh thinks that we should ask you if you can see a way to ... to ‘regularise' our marriage in the eyes of the church. As far as I understand what Hugh's told us, as a McDermott - possibly with some claim to the title, according to Hugh - I've a duty, a responsibility if you like, to set an example for others. I know that we can't ‘go through the motions' of a church ceremony - which wouldn't be valid, anyway! Also, it would be a form of deception, which would seem to defeat the whole object of the exercise. We'd really appreciate your professional advice, Father!"

For a moment, Father Tomàs sat silent, head bowed. Looking up he stretched for Phil's free hand, and Hugh's. Hugh completed the circle by taking Kate's free hand.

"We should pray for guidance" he said, simply. "The Lord's Prayer is the most powerful one I know: I hope you'll excuse me for using the Gaelic, but if you follow at your own pace in English I'm sure the Lord is enough of a linguist to understand us all!"

Hugh spoke the opening Gaelic words "Ár n-athair, atá ar neamh ...."  along with Father Tomàs. Praying silently, Phil listened again to the fluid rhythms of the ancient language, and discovered that the natural pauses he used at the end of a phrase appeared to be mirrored exactly in the version Hugh and Tomàs used.

After a short pause at the end of the prayer, Father Tomàs released Phil's hand and Hugh's. Kate and Phil continued their (for them) normal, natural clinch of fingers.

"How long are you planning to remain in Ardcarne? Do you have job responsibilities back in England, or any other diary dates you have to meet?"

"No, we're both self-employed: and much of my work I can do over the 'Net, anyway!" said Phil.

"And as an artist I think I've probably completed more sketches and ideas in the last few days than I'd be inspired to do in a month at home!" added Kate.

"So a telephone line's about all you'd be needing?" asked Hugh.

"Not even that, really, although it's always useful to be able to speak to people! By and large I tend to e-mail my contacts, and as long as I can recharge my laptop from time to time I can get by with that. Anyone who needs me urgently has my mobile number!"

"And the same applies for me, too!" added Kate.

Father Tomàs nodded again, with a satisfied expression.

"So: next Sunday, I shall make the sanctity of Marriage a subject in my Homily after the Gospel, and finish with a Special Blessing for All Married Couples"  he said, with a glint in his eye.

"By that time, you'll have a chance to meet and talk to people, make some more new friends. You really seem a genuine couple to me: I'd like to think you'll be back amongst us again!

Kate suddenly stiffened.

"Father, it may not be my place to say this, because Phil and  I haven't even discussed it yet, but .........."

It was Phil's turn to interrupt.

" ........ I think I know what Kate's going to say  - although that's something which happens a lot between us, and it cuts both ways!" he added.

"I didn't say anything before because I didn't want her to think I was putting an unfair pressure on her. But I've felt more and more attracted to the idea of moving here permanently, even though we've been here such a short time! There's a certain .... I don't know, a certain magic, almost, a sense of somehow belonging ........... "

"You both wear a ring: were they bought as a pair?"

Puzzled at this apparent change of subject from the priest, Phil and Kate nodded dumbly.

Father Tomàs took a stole from his pocket.

"Would you mind if I have a closer look? And is it okay with you if I lay my stole over your wrists?"

Still in silence, they offered their left hands, palm down on the table. Father Tomàs laid his stole across their hands as he studied the plain gold matching rings. He looked up.

"Now it's not my place to advise you on how you spend your money: that's not the "professional advice" you asked for, and which I've tried to give you!"

"But you might like to take that lazy lump Gerald for some exercise before he eats all the sweet grass in the village! Trot him as far as Boyle, go to the jeweller there Paddy Ratner and ask him if he can find a pair of claddagh  and mount them on the rings for you. You'll find he's an excellent goldsmith, and an honest man!"

Vague memories of having heard the word before struck Phil, but Kate was totally lost.

"The claddagh represents two hands clasped in friendship" explained Hugh, glad to be a part of the conversation which had so far taken just the path he had hoped for.

"It's become something of a tradition over the years for a claddagh symbol to be added to wedding rings, sometimes the rings are bought with the claddagh already upon them."

The suggestion appealed instantaneously to both of them, conveying at once both a sense of old-fashioned courtesy and romance and at the same time being a tangible, physical cementing of their commitment to each other and to the prospect of acting as role model for others in a manner befitting an MacDairmada and his wife.

Hugh cleared his throat.

"Now, there was also the other matter we mentioned, namely the idea of the ceilidg which the community here missed out on three years ago on the occasion of the marriage of an MacDairmada ............. when should I be telling Séan to start going around and telling people to find their party finery ......... ?"

Phil grinned.

"Why, Hugh, that's obvious! As soon as Father Tomàs has given the Special Blessing for All Married Couples next Sunday! How soon afterwards could it be arranged ........ ?"