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“Right. Stop there.” Lilith gripped my hands in hers. “You didn’t know any of this, Finn. If I recall your plan was to contact them next month, so all this letter does is brings things forward by a couple of weeks. You’re not psychic, and you can only act on what you know now. Are you listening to me?”
I nodded and took a deep, calming breath that even Luis would have approved of. “Yeah. Wanker moment over. Right, I’m going outside for a smoke. Try to decide what to do.”
*****
I’d watched Finn’s face become increasingly ashen as he read Niamh’s letter, and my heart ached for him. I doubted the man had carried out a single selfish act in his entire life so I knew what he would choose to do, but I still had to ask. I went to join him out on the balcony.
“So what do you think you might want to do? And I really mean ‘want’, okay? Not ‘think I need to do’, or anything like that. I know it’s an alien concept, but this decision has to be about you.”
Finn nodded his agreement, but I doubted that he was physically capable of acting purely for himself.
“I have to go,” he said finally. “And I know what you’re thinking, and yeah, you’re probably right – I’d feel like the world’s biggest bastard if I wasn’t there for the pair of them after everything I put them through, but I’d also have a harder time living with myself if I didn’t go and I’m not meant to be giving myself a hard time right now. So that’s kinda selfish, right?”
I shook my head and smiled at him. “Oof yeah, you’re a real self-centred bastard, Strachan.”
“Cheers for that. Seriously though, I think I need to be there.” Finn flipped his lighter over and over in his fingers. “Um, Lili?” he asked, suddenly tentative.
“Yeah?”
“Would you come with me? Please?” he asked, without looking at me.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s a big ask but it’s just that I don’t think I can do this by myself right now.”
Temporarily lost for words, I pulled him into a hug. “You mean you actually thought you’d have to do this alone? Really? Jesus Christ you… Oh, you complete and utter dickhead.”
“Told you I was. And I didn’t ‘think’,” Finn said, his voice muffled against my chest. “I just kind of assumed… well, it sounds like it’s goin’ to be a bit grim and…” he emerged from my embrace and kissed me. “Ah, to hell with it. Just thank you. Thank you, and I love you. That’s all.”
I returned the kiss. “And you might be a wanker, but I still love you. Actually thinking you’d be by yourself for this, for crying out loud.”
“Oh God, thank you.” Finn repeated and burying his face in my shoulder and planting a dozen kisses on my bare skin.
“Where does the ‘Tack’ thing come from, by the way?” I asked as I ruffled his hair.
Finn gave a soft laugh. “Ah, that. It’s daft, really. Kinda nice that she’s still calling me it, mind. Niamh was a right little wanderer when she was tiny. The door’d be open just the tiniest crack and she’d be leggin’ it off down the street and most of the time our ma was too pissed to notice, so I reckoned I’d better teach her her name and address. Spent bloody hours pointing to me then her and tryin’ to get her to say ‘Strachan’, and the best she could ever get was ‘Tack’. She ended up thinkin’ that was my name and it just stuck.”
Finn would have been all of seven. Doing a parent’s job with enough care for it to still resonate nearly twenty years later. He gave a soft oof of surprise as I suddenly hugged him hard enough to make his ribs creak.
*****
Just two hours later, the trip was all planned. Finn had emailed Niamh, I’d sorted flights and accommodation, and in just four days’ time we’d be leaving Santa Marita for Dublin. It was soon enough to reassure him that he wasn’t wasting any more time, but still gave us sufficient opportunity to make arrangements for care of the apartment and Sceolan, and most importantly for Finn to have one last session with Amina and sort out enough medication for the trip.
For better or worse, we were now Ireland-bound.
Chapter Twelve
Lilith
Finn and Sceolan usually caught a bus from the rescue centre into Santa Marita at the end of the working day, but on the evening before we left for Ireland I drove to pick him up.
As I approached the farm the sun was setting behind the hills in a blaze of scarlet glory and the late autumn air, scented with pine and ozone, was still warm from the heat of the day. It was as if our home was giving me one last achingly beautiful memory to sustain us whilst we were in Dublin.
Annie met me at the car park, a huge smile on her pretty, open face. “Oh Lilith, I’m glad you’re early! Come on, you have to see this – up in the top field.” She almost dragged me from my car in her enthusiasm.
The beauty of the Spanish countryside faded into insignificance compared to the sight waiting for me in the paddock. Finn was riding a stunning little skewbald mare, and he was demonstrating the same ability and casual grace that I recalled from the first time we had ridden together back in Albermarle. He wore a white t-shirt and his oldest blue jeans teamed with a pair of soft brown suede chaps and dusty jodphur boots, and over the long, hot summer his muddy blond hair had been bleached into a hundred shades of gold by the sun and sea.
That man could steal my breath as easily as the day we’d first met.
