Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
She shook her head. “Please. For me, then.”
I sighed and relented. “A couple of things.”
She clapped her hands. “Awesome.”
We went shopping then headed upstairs to meet Finn and Niall for a late lunch. The pub was warm and welcoming, another large fireplace roaring in the corner, heavy wooden tables and comfy bench seats everywhere. Finn was waiting, and a few moments after we sat down, Niall strode in, his eyes instantly finding mine. I swore his shoulders relaxed as soon as he saw me.
I know mine did.
He sat on the chair next to me, leaning over and speaking quietly. “All right, mo mhuirnín?”
“I’m fine. I had a good morning with Una.”
“Great.”
Finn highly recommended the Irish stew and brown bread, so we all ordered it. The meat was fork-tender, the vegetables delicious, and the gravy rich and thick. Perfect to soak up with the warm bread. Finn shared stories of the hotel and a few from growing up in Ireland. Niall joined in, the two of them kibitzing and teasing. It made me laugh more than once, and I enjoyed myself.
“One time, Niall and I were about eight, I think,” Finn said with a grin. “Our neighbor, who no one liked, had a pile of manure delivered for his garden.”
Niall snickered. “Old man Murtagh.”
Finn chuckled. “We snuck out that night and pelted his house with the manure, thinking it would be funny. We thought we’d do it in the dark and no one would know it was us.”
“And?” Una asked.
“Next morning, Murtagh was yelling outside, and Mum burst into our room, screaming at us and calling us little feckers, chasing us with the wooden spoon, threatening to lock us up,” Niall said, wiping at his eyes. “We kept saying it wasn’t us. But…” He trailed off, laughing too hard to keep talking.
“We never thought about the smell. We washed our hands in the well, but it was on our shoes and bits on our clothes,” Finn explained. “The room stank like shite. So did we.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Mum beat our arses, and then we had to go clean his house.” Finn sighed. “But we got ours in the end.”
“What did you do?”
“We snuck some of the wet manure into his back seat and hid it. He could never get the smell out.”
We all laughed, and Una shook her head. “Poor Roisin.”
I touched Niall’s hand. “Your accent is heavier than Finn’s,” I said. “Most of the time.”
He chuckled, flipping his hand over and squeezing my fingers. “Finn’s been here longer than I have. He’s lost a bit more of the brogue.” He winked at me. “Most of the time?”
I nodded. “When either of you is angry or upset, it’s heavier and you say feck instead of fuck. Or when you’re laughing and talking about Ireland.”
Una grinned. “When Finn is being passionate, it becomes quite pronounced. Very, ah, hard.”
He laughed, wrapping an arm around her. “Quite,” he said. “Very hard.”
I had to look down, laughing into my napkin at her teasing.
She leaned close. “You’ll have to let me know if you hear a difference.”
I felt my eyes widen. Niall sputtered.
Finn started to laugh.
“Fecker,” Niall muttered.
“Like that,” I pointed out.
Then we were all laughing.
The waiter brought over coffee, and Finn cleared his throat, addressing me. He told me about the chance to work in the hotel, learn and be paid at the same time. I was surprised at the magnanimous gesture, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. He mistook my surprise as being distraught.
“It’s only an offer, Anna,” he explained, his voice gentle. “Maybe you had plans to return up north or another idea?”
“Oh no,” I said. “I had been dreading trying to find a job, and I would love to stay here. I’d get to work with Una?”
“Yes, and the other staff. You’d be in guest services. Trained and paid while doing so.” Finn looked at Niall, indicating he should join in the conversation.
“And you’d get to live in the hotel,” Niall added, turning to me.
“I would?”
Finn cleared his throat. “I’m indebted to you, Anna. You and Una developed a friendship while you were, ah, trapped. She told me if it weren’t for you, she would have gone mad.”
“She was equally good to me,” I replied. “She tried to protect me from, um, him.”
My hand was shaking as I reached for my coffee. Simply thinking of Juan upset me. Niall shifted closer, draping his arm over the back of my chair.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” he assured me.
“But what if he comes looking for me?” I asked, worried. “And hurts Una? I can’t stay here and risk that.”
Niall and Finn exchanged a look, and Finn nodded. Leaning forward, Niall spoke quietly, telling Una and me that Juan was dead.
“You’re sure?” I asked, my voice thick.
“They can’t ID him since there was no way to fingerprint him and no DNA in any system. But the fact that he was so close to the track and had a gunshot, the coincidence is too great,” Finn replied with confidence. “Plus, he was wearing those hideous sneakers.”