Bó is the Irish for cow, something Solomon’s Irish-speaking family delight in calling her.

‘You never give her a break.’

‘It’s only banter.’

‘She doesn’t have the same sense of humour.’

‘Wrong. She doesn’t have a sense of humour. And she barely sees us, so she doesn’t have to put up with us often.’

‘Please stop taking photos of my balls.’

‘But they’re so pretty. I’m going to send them to Mam. She can decorate a new room, call it the bollox room.’

Ashamed to find that childish joke funny, Solomon laughs.

‘So, do you go to Bo’s folks’ place, parties, brunches, soirees and the like?’ he asks putting on a posh Dublin accent.

‘Sometimes. Not very often. Once. Me and Bo are better on our own. Away from our families.’

‘Away from each other.’

‘Come on.’

‘Fine. Last question. Are you going to get married?’

‘Are we going to get married?’ He sighs. ‘You sound like an old woman. Why the fuck do you care if I get married?’

‘Man, I think your dick shrunk when I asked that. Look -’ He holds the camera up to show him. ‘Before I asked the question.’ He slides the image. ‘After.’

Solomon chuckles. ‘It’s a fine thing, you asking me all these questions. Single man of forty-two. You should have been a priest.’

‘Might have got more action,’ Donal says and Solomon rolls his nose up in disgust.

Donal chuckles at his own joke.

‘Seriously, I overhead a conversation between Mam and Dad about you being gay.’

‘Shut up,’ Donal says, pretending not to care but dropping the phone.

Solomon picks it up. Thirty-two photos of his own bollox on his phone.

Donal changes the subject. ‘Mam said you were in Boston. How did that go?’

‘The Irish Globe gave us an award.’

‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So you’re happy.’

‘I’m always happy.’

‘So are you going to marry her?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘What’s with the blonde?’ he repeats his opening question.

‘Laura.’

‘What’s with Laura?’

Solomon fills him in on Laura’s background and her lyrebird qualities, everything he knows about her.

‘Why wouldn’t she go to Dublin with Bo?’

‘Because she wanted to stay with me. I was the person who found her. She trusts me,’ he shrugs. ‘Go on, tell me it’s weird.’

‘It’s not.’

Solomon searches his face for the sarcasm.

‘Man, would you put your jocks on.’ He throws a pillow at him.

‘This is what you get for taking photos of my cock. I’m going to text it to you and you can stare at it all you like.’

The door opens and two more brothers squeeze through the doorway. ‘Wahay!’ they all cheer, bundling into the room with a six-pack of beer.

Solomon laughs and catches the boxers Donal throws at him.

‘What’s going on here?’ his eldest brother Cormac asks, looking Solomon up and down. ‘Nice bollox.’

‘Your date is standing at the window of the orchid room imitating cuckoos,’ his youngest brother Rory says, opening the bottle’s cap with his teeth.

‘Yeah. And?’ Solomon tenses up. He slides his legs into his jeans and faces them all, ready to fight, ready to defend. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d punched any of them in the face.

‘And. She’s hot,’ Rory says with a grin, and passes him a bottle.

Going downstairs, Laura hears the sounds of the crowds and stalls a little in fear. The brothers notice but keep on going without a word, which Solomon appreciates. If it was Bo they would never have let her go, probably would have picked her up and carried her down over their heads themselves.

‘It’s okay, I promise,’ Solomon says gently. He wants to place his hand on her waist, guide her, he wants to take her hand. But he doesn’t do any of those things. He looks down at her, seeing the light freckles on her nose through her long lashes. She did change her clothes after all, a dress that she must have made herself. A simple design, long sleeves, but short hemline. Different fabrics sewn together. When she moved to the Toolin cottage she obviously moved with the garage of fabrics.

‘You’ll stay with me?’ she asks him, looking up.

He wants to move the hair that’s fallen before her eyes.

They’re standing so close on the stairs that she feels the heat from him. She wants to press her face against the skin she sees through the open buttons of his T-shirt. She wants to smell his skin, feel the heat on hers.

They stand there just looking at one another. He feels the intensity of her stare. He clears his throat.

‘Of course I’ll stay with you. If you promise to stay with me. I could get eaten alive down there.’

She smiles.

She reaches out and links arms with him, hugging his arm close to her body; she couldn’t stop herself.

‘You’ll be fine,’ he says softly, to the top of her head, so close his lips brush her hair and he smells her faint sweet perfume.

14

The connecting doors of the living room, the dining room, the den and the kitchen have been opened, along with those leading into the conservatory, creating a grand space for the party. The dining table is filled with food that Marie has prepared and that neighbours have brought with them. There are one hundred people squeezed into the ground floor of the house and already Finbar is centre stage and telling a special-edition story of how he met Marie. It’s in English, especially for her family and friends who travelled from Dublin.

After his story he presents her with a wooden heart that he carved himself from a tree that fell during a storm. It’s the tree he claims they shared their first kiss under, but Solomon guesses it’s closer to being a tree that stood in the park they once walked in. Still, the sentiment remains the same. In the four chambers of the heart are four drawers, inside each drawer is an item that represents the four generations together.

There are tears in everybody’s eyes, phones are in the air capturing the moment as Marie, who always sits on stage with Finbar as he acts, loses herself in an embrace. Marie is next to perform. Before having four children and opening her own guesthouse, Marie was a professional harpist who travelled the world, mostly the US, playing birthdays, weddings, stage shows. She played classical, traditional, whatever was required, but Celtic music is her personal favourite; it was thanks to the Celtic show that came to Galway that Finbar first laid eyes on her. This red-haired goddess behind an enormous harp, entrancing everybody. Not to take away from her talent, but Solomon and his siblings have been hearing the same routine their whole lives and, while not bored of it, the sheen certainly has come off. It’s in seeing the delight on other people’s faces as they hear her for the first time that reminds them of her skill to capture a crowd.

Marie starts to play ‘Carolan’s Dream’ and instantly Laura, who has been sitting by Solomon’s side in complete silence the whole time, sits up, utterly transfixed. Solomon smiles at her expression and sits back, arms folded, to watch Laura watch his mother.