The Witches of Slievenamon

I drop most of the towels on the passenger seat and over the back of the seat, pop a small one under my arm, shake out the biggest one and hold it up ready to drape around her. I can't help but notice the 'wet T-shirt effect' that shows she's not wearing a bra under her T. She might be slim and boyish in build but those points highlight that she's all girl. She turns away a quarter turn, inviting me to drape the towel over her shoulders, her long slim fingers lifting her very long singularly plaited black hair out of the way before settling the braid across her front.

"I'd really like to meet your daughter, d'you think she would be amenable to talk to a drowned rat such as I?"

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you, it's, we're, well, we're a little isolated where we live, so other than seeing her school friends during the day, well, I guess I think she misses female company. I know she misses my neighbour terribly since she left her next door cottage and moved away recently. Anyway, I don't want to take you out of your way via the school, where are you heading for, ma'am?"

"McCullogh's Cottages."

"What? In the Slievenamon Road?"

"Aye, a wee bit further along this very road, before the golf course, I understand. It used ta be my aunt's place, Number 1 of two cottages it is, but it's mine now. It's been a few months me making up my mind whether to come or not. I'm the last of my family and 'tis a big thing to uproot yourself, so it is."

"Yeah, I know. The place has been empty for a few months, ma'am, it might not be what you're used to find inside, you know, a bit damp and all, while the the furnishings are pretty sparse and old. Not sure if she's left any fuel or even kindling to hand, certainly no food, because the fridge was completely cleaned out. You could have some of our supplies of course to tide you over. How is Katie, has she settled happily in her new home?"

"Oh, she's fine, complains all the feckin' time but she's fair in herself. Do you know my aunt's place?"

"Yeah, I live next door at Number 2."

"Oh! That's grand, I don't have a key and I know from er Aunt Kaetlynn that you do, so you could let me in."

"But how do I know you're...."

"That Kaetlynn is my aunt and that her place is now my place? Because I can tell you exactly how many teaspoons are in her kitchen drawer, it's four."

"How?--"

"I'll tell you over a wee brew o' tea, I'm sure Caoimhe would like to hear the story. I brought my favourite tea blend in my bag, fortunately in a waterproof tin."

I laugh to myself, what an intriguing girl! I hand her the spare towel, "For your hair and arms," before splashing back through the puddle to the driver's side. Checking before stepping out, that there's nothing coming up the road.

"Look, there's spare face masks in the glove compartment," I say as I put on mine which was stored in my door pocket where I dropped it after lunch.

She looks blankly at me, so I open the glovebox with my left hand, careful not to freak her out by brushing her knee or anything, and get a fresh one out of the wrapper.

She looks at mine, turns hers over and puts it on the right way around. I do up my seat belt and she copies me.

I look in the mirror, the road is still empty behind me, I start off and am soon running about 70km/hr with a clear road ahead of us. The rain has stopped and the spray from the oncoming traffic now down to virtually nothing.

"Richard," I say, "my name, I'm pleased to meet you."

"Etain," she replies, "my pleasure to meet you ... and thank you for being a gentleman."

I glance at her quickly, she does have a nice smile. I wonder if she is a student, wonder what she's studying and how would she get there and back from McCullogh's Cottages? We're pretty isolated there. And where was her luggage, clothes, supplies, even just cleaning supplies, ready for moving into her aunt's cottage?

We don't go far before I can start to ask any questions, and then we see the very same silver truck stopped at the side of the road parked at an unsafe angle half up on the grass verge.

I slow down to allow an oncoming auto to pass, allowing me space to pass the truck, and can clearly see the truck driver squatting between the truck and the hedgerow, holding up the back of his yellow hi-vis top to prevent soiling it. Clearly he's been caught short and couldn't make to the next set of jacks.

"Ha!" I say to my passenger while tooting the driver with a long blast on my horn, "that's karma for yah!"

She sits there relaxed into the seat and smiling like a slim Buddha, "Oh aye, I feel a whole lot calmer now."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Two SETTLING IN

We drive most of the way up to the school in relative silence, with me concentrating on watching the road carefully. The sun has come out soon after the rain and the glare off the wet road generally heading North-North-West is distracting, especially as the afternoon traffic increased with parents picking up their children from school.

Why is it that when it rains so many parents drop off and pick up their kids? Surely the kids have got used to Irish rain by the time they go to school. If it didn't rain here as much, surely they'd miss it.

I have to collect my kid from school anyway because a few months ago she was subjected to some bullying from older girls on her way home; it was outside the school premises and the school seemed unwilling or powerless to do anything about it. I work out of home so it wasn't much of an inconvenience to me most of the time. I stopped her using the bus and and started to drive her to and from school.

I think the bullying has had an effect on her, hardening her somehow. She used to be so loving but she has been getting increasingly belligerent towards me. A shame, because she used to be such a sweet schoolgirl, now she seems to have the attitudes of a teenager three years too soon.

Etain uses the towel to pat her hair dry without bothering to undo the tight braiding. Even dry the hair looks jet black in contrast to her white skin, even her bare arms are white. I only steal glances at her and assess that she could even be as young as 18, in looks, but she seems to have an air of confidence that makes her seem older somehow. Although I suggested before she got in the car that she get her cell phone out and key in the Garda's emergency number, she has made no attempt to do so and doesn't seem afraid of me.

Although I'm 6-1 to her 5-6, I'm slim and 'bookish', looking nerdish rather than athletic. I don't do gym, just 45 minutes' running at weekends. Because Caoimhe's not a morning person, I can get out of the cottage early on Saturdays and Sundays for a run without her feeling abandoned.

"The school is only a couple of minutes away from here," I say at last. "Your clothes are soaked through, so you can stay here in the warm car while I fetch her from the school building. They won't let us drive inside the school and there's a no-parking restriction on the road either side of the school gates. Will you be all right on your own just for a few minutes?"

"I am often on my own, Richard, and I am comfortable sitting here. Where is the music coming from? Because that fella can't hold a tune to save his life. "

"Ah, he's from Canada."

Leonard Cohen is an acquired taste, he was a poet which maybe why the words are more important than the delivery. I like him a lot but Caoimhe absolutely hates most of the music I play and I guess to a 10-year-old it is 'oldies' music. Etain clearly enjoys new younger music.

"Hey, I have some Olivia Rodrigo on my cell that I could play instead," I grin knowing that although girls of 10 love that stuff, an older teenager might or might not.

"Do they play reels or jigs, Richard?" she replies, "because I love to dance and you can't possibly dance to this noise."

Jigs and reels? Well, you can knock me down with a feather.

"Gee, I do have some traditional music," I reply, "and have a collection of a number of traditional albums on shuffle."

The traffic is not too heavy here and we are going slow to suit the built-up area, so I click on my cell phone and find the selection and press, a snatch of fiddle music, which starts halfway through the last time I played it.

I laugh as Etain starts to jiggle in her seat. She joins me, laughing at the joyful playing.

Two minutes later I park as close to the school as I can. No other cars are about so I know without even looking at the clock that delaying to pick up my wet passenger means I am once again the last terrible parent to pick up their precious rugrat.

"You stay and listen to the music, I'll go fetch my daughter."

"All right, Richard, I'll wait. You know you're lucky, a daughter is a blessing."

Yeah, only at times like this having a daughter also means I know I'm going to get a thorough telling off for being late and an added grilling for picking up a hitchhiker.

Caoimhe is indeed abusive at my lateness as she has been to me for some months now.

"Well, father, what bloody time do you call this?" Caoimhe spits, standing under the shelter of the overhang in front of the school entrance with her arms folded. She gets fined from her pocket money if she swears; a year ago she started using 'feck' or 'fecking' and I had to put my foot down and she ended up with an overdraft, but it taught her a lesson. There is a light rain falling, even though the sun, low in the late afternoon sky, is shining and highlighting her fiery frizzy red hair.

"I've seen her, Dad, I saw her as you parked the car and see you spoke to her before you got out. Who's the young woman in the front seat? You haven't started courtin' now have you? At your age, you should be ashamed of yourself, Dad. Or is it that your goin' through a mid-life crisis in yer ould age?"

I turn to look back the way I came and from where she stands you can see where my SUV is parked through the school railings and Etain can be seen observing us through the side window. As she sees us turn and look in her direction, Etain smiles and for an instant her smile outshines the sun.

"Oh, she's cute, father, what school does she go to?"

'Be polite for once, Keev, and play nice, she's not a school girl, she's our new next door neighbour."

I smile back at Etain, returning her brilliant smile with what counts as my best smile, silently thanking my parents for paying for the orthodontist to sort out the mess in my upper set during my formative years.

"Really? She moved in today?"

"No, not even moved in yet, I picked her up and I'm taking her home after collecting you along the way. She asked to meet with you, being young girls, her a teenager and you almost one, might have a lot in common. We probably need to stop for groceries though because the house is empty and she doesn't appear to have an auto."

"So what's she doing in the car?" she questions, "did she ring for you to collect her from the station?"

"No, she was walking all the way along the Slievenamon Road and she got soaked, not just from the rain but seriously splashed by a wave of dirty water from a passing truck. I stopped to pick her up."

"Dad, you should never pick up hitchhikers, for all you knew she might've been a murderer."

"Nah, I've never picked up a murderer yet and, look at her, she's only a wee girl, not much bigger than you."

"You only need to pick up one murderer Dad, you bloody eejit, the first crazy pick up'll be your last and I'll become a broken-hearted orphan and a guest of the County and end up homeless and hopeless. So who exactly is she? I didn't see any signs up for the cottage being up for sale."

"No, the cottage has not been sold, she's Mrs Wisniewski's niece. As far as I know she may be house-sitting and getting the place clean and lived in to max out the price until the cottage is sold. Usually, when old people like her aunt has to go in to a retirement home, the property would be sold to meet the care home fees, but maybe she's allowed a few months' grace until its sold, so be nice to her, she tells me she doesn't know anyone else around here."

"If she's her niece, how come we've never seen her around here before? And I can't remember Katie ever mentioning any relatives except her sister, who used to live in our place before you and Mum moved in and long before I was born. What was the sister's name now? ... Beverley?"

"Yes, Bev, short for Bevin, I think. Well, this is their niece and her name is Etain, she's young, student age I guess, seems very nice and friendly, has got excellent taste in music, and she's now our only neighbor for miles. So, for once in your very short life, Keev, please play nice."

We start to walk down the school path to the gate.

"I'm always nice, Da —" Caoimhe insists, "and Katie was as spry as anyone that old that I know. I mean, weren't you surprised when you saw her note about her leaving?"

"Sure, but when we bought our cottage, she'd only just lost her husband and then her sister who lived in our place moved in next to her for a few months, but I remember Katie saying that they got on each other's nerves and so her sister Bev moved out. I've no idea where she went, as Katie handled the estate agent and was the main contact. I think Katie liked your mother a lot and accepted our offer over others even though we could barely afford to buy it at the time. She was a great comfort to me when Ella died. Katie adored you, you know, and not just because she accepted when I asked her to be your godmother."

"Yeah, me too, I loved Aunt Katie. She never judged me. I'd love to see her again, can we find out where her home is and go visit?"

"We'll see what Etain says. We don't know how well she is. There's a lot of dementia around among old people."

"OK, so where did you pick her up?"

"I picked her up in the rain, she's still soaked and not been home yet. So we're not going directly home, but to the store for groceries and whatever else she needs in order to move in."

I realise that the large bag she's carrying isn't large enough to contain any change of clothes, so we might have to address that.

I remembered that Katie only left me a note a few months ago to say she was moving out into a home and wouldn't return. She asked me to keep an eye on the place for a while. I'd been given a back door key many years before, as I had given our front door key and the code to the alarm to her, as good neighbors and she had clearly used my key to leave her note on my kitchen counter where I'd see it when I put my coffee maker on. I had immediately cleaned out her frig and moved all her house plants into a sheltered part of the garden by the house where I could water them easily. I never felt the need to check her drawers or wardrobes but was sure she only had 'old people' clothes and I rarely saw her wearing anything new or fashionable, so Etain would probably not find anything at all to change into, especially as Katie was a much heavier build.

We reach the car and open the rear door on the sidewalk side for Caoimhe to get in. Her usual seat is behind the passenger seat, so I can see her from the driver's seat and, as she is still on the petite side for her age she uses a booster seat.

"Hiya," she says cheerfully, continuing, "I'm Caoimhe, how you going? Dad tells me you're Mrs Wisniewski's niece, we really miss her, how is she?"

"Nice to meet you, Caoimhe, that's a lovely name, I'm Etain," Etain says as she turns in her seat to address her, "Aunt Kaetlynn's in a much better place now."

"Oh my god, you mean she died?" Caoimhe retorts in shock, "I know she was old. I mean she was even older than Dad, but she always seemed so ... full of life."

"No, she's not dead, not quite anyways, but she's in a better place, a place that's better than this.'" Etain smiles at the girl. "Once she partook of food and drink in that place, she now belongs there rather than just a visitor. I think she's happy now, she misses her husbands and was lonely. At least she has her sisters for company."

"Oh, yeah, we'd heard of one sister, your Aunt Bev was it?"

"Bebhinn," Etain confirms, "she's the quiet one in the family, she hardly ever talks at all."

"So they're both together in a nice place?" Caoimhe asks.

"Oh aye, it's beautiful there, warm, dry and safe, it's just not for me, not yet anyway."

"Of course not, you've your whole life ahead of you," I say as I put on my seat belt and start the electric motor running. "Right, you're going to need groceries, Etain, because there's nothing in the pantry or the frig—"

"Uh, there'll be plenty of food in the garden and I know she has some honey in the pantry."

"I don't think so," I say, "I know your Aunt Bev kept bees more than a dozen years ago but by the time my wife and I moved in the bees'd already flown away and the old straw hives —"

"Skeps," she interrupts, "the woven hives Bebhinn would have used are called skeps."

"Whatever. They've gone, they were empty and they just rotted away by the time Ella and I had got the inside of the cottage modernised and we started work on the jungle that was the garden."

"Not to worry, I can gather the materials and make some more, Richard."

"But you'll still need some basics, like bread, milk, butter —" I am cut off by her protest.

"But I can't go to the market until I've been to the cottage," Etain butts in, "I don't have any coin about me until I get to Kaetlynn's cottage."

"I knew it!" Caoimhe shouts in triumph, "I told you, Dad, that Katie had a stash of cash but you stopped me having a nose. Dad'll spot you for your stuff while you get your messages, won't you Da? We can drop into Dunnes on the way home, sure you can pick up any or everything from Dunnes. We go there all the time, don't we Da?"

"Yeah we do," I look Etain in the eye with what I call my 'gunfighter stare' that I deliver to clients when the chips are down, like the server's fried and they need a new one that's not going to be cheap and this is showdown time. "You'll need the fresh dairy and bread basics, including a few cans for the next week, any condiments, 'erbs and spices and some stuff for the ice box. Your aunt has an old frig with a freezer compartment big enough for an ice cube tray, a pack of fish fingers and a bag of peas and, because the power has been off for months, we may have to keep the stuff in our freezer overnight."

"But, I don't know how much paper coin—"

"Don't worry about paying us back, Etain," I say, "the basics won't amount to much, consider it a neighborly gesture."

"But—"

"Go on, Etain," Caoimhe butts in, "let my Dad pay for the messages, it'll make his day and I'll chuck a few of our bits in too. It's Friday night, I've got a mouth on me and we could get some food in, I fancy Chinkeez, what about you Da?"

"Yeah, I could strangle a chow mein and special fried, and I could get a pack of McGargles in and a bottle or two of pop," I agree as we head back towards the Slievenamon Road on the way to Dunnes Stores, "You in with us, Etain? As a 'welcome home treat'?"

"Aye, I thank ye for your hospitality, Richard."

"Think nothing of it. Now, what's your poison?"

"Poison?"

"Drink, hooch, tipple, cocktail, mothers' ruin?"

"Giggle juice," throws in Caoimhe. I glance at her very briefly. "Well, that's what my friend Maria says her babysitter calls beer. Anyway, there's always poteen."

"And what would you know about poteen, young lady?" I ask, trying to sound stern but realise I am probably smiling at her in the rear view mirror, which she can see clearly.

"I know and everyone I know knows that Percy Purcell has a copper still in the shed in his backyard, even the Garda collect their regular supplies of 'Percy's Potch' in the squad car."

"Actually," I admit, "it's top notch potch, but with 'Madam' here with us I'll need to stock up with Coke anyway ... unless you're a fan of Pepsi?"