Monday, October 19, 2015

A journey - part 3

She had let go of her country and her family, but she could not let go of her penchant for Irish stews. Every night whatever be the weather, she made a pot of stew. It brought back memories of her mother and cold Irish nights. She sat outside with her dinner, the courtyard looking out to the sea with fairy lights twinkling on the fence. On nights like these Pegaso didn't seem gone. She missed his salad of potatoes and feta that complimented her stew so well. She missed his dark tan, unruly black curls and his broad, unlined face. 

Alanah had been happy in her marriage. Pegaso was not lazy like his other friends. He did not waste time at the local bars. He had his moods, but he also had his endearing ways. He loved to sing, he played the ukulele to Alanah often, he cooked for her whenever she was over-worked, and he was patient with her on nights that she cried for her parents and family back in Ashbourne. He loved to play with her long red hair, arrange bluebells in them, braid and un-braid them till he was asked to stop lest they got tangled. 

Events had shaped her life throughout. Some she had an active hand in, others she stumbled upon. After six years of leaving Ireland, Lila was born. It had been a very difficult pregnancy. Even the birth of their grand daughter had not been able to soften her parents stand. It had been a busy time, but a happy one. 

The ring of the telephone broke Alanah's reverie. 
"Hello, mum. Where have you been? I left so many messages for you. You did not call back. Are you okay? I got worried"
"Oh Lila, yes of course, sorry, I just forgot...."
"Oh well, so is it okay if I come to visit? I umm need to book the dates"
"Yes, yes, it is. Please do come. It has been a while since you visited darling."
"Okay mum, see you soon. Did I interrupt your dinner?"
"Not really sweetie, I was done. See you soon."
"Well then nighty night"
"Good night darling."

She smiled as she put down the receiver. Who would have thought that Lila would choose to live and work in Ireland, a few hours away from the street she was born and raised in. She listened to
the radio as she tidied up the kitchen. Taking a glass of wine she slowly walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Hazel followed a step behind. The window of her bedroom overlooked their garage and pumping station. It stood proud, a testimony of her hard work and determination and also sadly the venue of another defining event of her life. But today she would not think sad thoughts.

Alanah opened the book to where she had left off last and patted hazel. She perched her reading glasses over her nose, sipped from her glass and started to read.

to be continued...