the trees spoke of civilisation.
Far below lay the road where they’d parked the car – a rackety grey road just wide enough for two vehicles to pass, but from this great height, it looked nothing more than a winding dark line on a child’s picture.
Despite the early April sunshine, which made everyone in Glengarriff insist it was ‘a fabulous day for the time of year’, it was cold on the mountain and Erin was glad of the steaming hot coffee. She was wearing a heavily padded skiing jacket, lined hiking trousers, thick socks with her walking boots, and a hat that was squashing her ponytailed hair, but she could still feel the chilly wind.
When they’d eaten everything in his rucksack, Greg sat beside Erin on her rock and put his arm round her. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning and when he rubbed his cheek against hers, she felt the spiky beard rough against her face.
The combination of designer stubble, a soft grey hat pulled down over his hair and the pale sun glinting against his sunglasses gave him the look of some glamorous French skier who’d just come down a black run.
‘Wasn’t this a great idea to come away for the weekend?’ he said.
Erin kissed him on the cheek. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘We really needed the break. I’m sorry about your poor mum, but it’s nice to get away all the same, isn’t it? And we can have the big family reunion soon.’
‘Erin,’ began Greg, ‘we’ve been here nearly a month…’ He paused.
Erin stilled. She knew what was coming. Greg didn’t disappoint.
‘Don’t you think it’s time to visit your family or at least make contact?’
She said nothing but dug out another chocolate bar from the side pocket of her rucksack. Did he really think she could just phone up after nine years and think everyone would be thrilled to hear her voice?
‘OK, OK, forget I said anything,’ Greg apologised. ‘I don’t want to ruin the day.’
‘No, don’t,’ begged Erin. ‘We’re here for the weekend to forget about everything: the pressures of your job, the non-pressures of my non-existent job and the horrible rented house. And I know you’re on the rental agency’s case and they’re going to find us a mansion soon, but it is horrible.’
‘Right, we’re here to forget,’ he agreed, and took a big slab of chocolate. ‘I think we’ve been sitting here too long. I’m getting cold and stiff.’
‘Me too,’ admitted Erin. ‘Can we phone mountain rescue and get them to helicopter us back?’
Greg pretended to think about this. ‘I think they prefer to be called out in genuine emergencies and not to airlift lazy, fat tourists down to their cars so they can head back to their hotels for more Irish coffees.’
‘Who are you calling fat?’ Erin ripped the last piece of chocolate from Greg’s hand and shoved it in her mouth with a wicked smirk.
‘Oh, not you! But since you’ve eaten everything, we’d better go.’ Greg got to his feet and put out a hand to haul Erin up. ‘I’m afraid we’ve a bit further up to go before we’re on the way down.’
They walked in silence, Erin reserving her energy for the hike rather than wasting her breath talking. As she climbed steadily, she couldn’t help her mind slipping off the path in front of her and back to her estranged family in Dublin.
Greg didn’t understand her reluctance to go home. He was a black-and-white sort of person. Families loved each other and no stupid argument, no matter how bitter, should stop people from being there for each other.
But a long time had passed since she’d left. Erin knew she’d changed beyond all recognition. She was a different person from the angry eighteen-year-old who’d packed her suitcase and stormed out of her home one evening. What really scared her was what if everything else had changed too in the years she’d been away? What if her grandparents had died? Erin wouldn’t let herself think about that.
Kerry was eleven years older, so she’d be thirty-eight now, maybe married with kids, or maybe not. Kerry’s love life had never run smoothly. She looked a lot like Erin, without the red hair but with the same long nose. Dad used to joke that Kerry, who had mousy hair dyed blonde, had got the red hair temperament. He’d been right. However the rest of the family reacted, Kerry would find it hard to forgive Erin.
The landlady of the Mountain Arms Hotel was attractive and middle-aged, with a genial manner and shrewd eyes. Meg Boylan had come to the Mountain Arms thirty years before when she’d married the proprietor’s son, Teddy. Then, the hotel had been a family concern with just ten rooms and a small clientele who hadn’t minded the shabby décor or the fact that the rooms were often cold. Thanks to Meg’s hard work and drive, the Mountain Arms was now a thriving business with thirty rooms, a spacious, high-ceilinged room for weddings, a cosy bar named The Devil’s Elbow and a small but elegant dining room called The Haven. Teddy, God bless him, was no help at all when it came to running the hotel, although it had taken Meg several years to discover this after his parents retired.
Nowadays, Teddy made an enjoyable daily circuit between the bookies and a small corner of The Devil’s Elbow where he liked to peruse the racing pages and sip a couple of small ones.
‘I like to make sure everything’s run all right in the bar,’ he told people cheerily when they enquired about his part in keeping the hotel running smoothly.
This left Meg free to run her empire, keeping a careful eye on the kitchens, not to mention overseeing the hotel’s staff. She enjoyed being on the front desk and had long since realised that valued customers felt even more valued if they got a welcome from the proprietor herself.
She’d been on the desk when the young couple from Dunmore had arrived and found there was something refreshing about the way they’d laughed when she’d asked if they were newlyweds.
‘We’re married four years,’ grinned the husband.
‘And we can’t afford the bridal suite this time, I’m afraid. The budget won’t allow it,’ added his wife. ‘Not that that’s going to affect our enjoyment.’ She patted her husband’s arm affectionately.
They had that glow of the just-married about them, Meg thought. And she admired them for their candour in admitting that they weren’t in funds.
‘Let’s see what we’ve got for you,’ she said, checking the hotel’s computer, a machine she adored, even though Teddy wouldn’t go within an ass’s roar of it. The hotel had a bridal suite, which was the biggest room, with a pretty sitting room that looked out over the bay, and a four-poster bed draped with crimson and gold brocade decorated with medieval bower scenes, including maidens, unicorns and woodland glades. It wasn’t booked until the following week when the Gerrard/O’Shea wedding party would take over the entire hotel.
Marriage to Teddy had long since drummed the romance out of Meg but the Kennedys had touched her heart.
‘I have just the room for you,’ she said. ‘It’s an upgrade but it’s the same price as we originally agreed upon.’
The Kennedys grinned at each other. ‘Thank you,’ they said.
Meg’s face softened as she smiled back at them. Wait till they saw the room.
Greg and Erin adored their luxurious suite, and when they got back from their hike they wanted to do nothing more than throw themselves onto the voluptuously soft bed, but they were both mud-splattered. In the bathroom, they stripped off their dirty clothes and Erin began to run a bath.
‘I’ll seize up if I don’t soak,’ she said, adding some of the hotel’s lavender bath oil.
‘Can I join you?’ begged Greg.
Erin took a look at the bath. Greg was such a giant that most tubs were too snug a fit on him, and as for sharing a bath…forget it. But