The Rose Garden (13 page)

Afterwards she walked him around the grounds, showing him
the entire gardens and fields and woods while he recorded the details on to his machine.

‘What about the river? Do fishing rights come with the house?’

‘Of course. Richard Morton, the previous owner, was a very keen angler, apparently. I remember when we first came to view it there was an enormous stuffed pike in a glass case in the study, and some other strange fish.’

Later they had coffee in the kitchen.

‘Do you mind me asking why you are selling?’ he enquired.

‘My husband died last year and our children are grown up and busy with their own lives,’ Molly explained. ‘So it’s far too big for me now that I’m here most of the time on my own. A fine house like this needs a family, people to upkeep it and live in it and use it to its full, not a lonely soul like me rambling around it.’

‘If you sell, where will you move to?’

‘Hopefully somewhere pretty close by, near to the village and my friends. I like this part of the country and intend staying here.’

‘Well, I have everything I need,’ he said, finishing his coffee. ‘I will talk to the relevant partner with regard to a current valuation, given the market, and come back to you on that.’

When Molly pressed him, he mentioned a rough figure which was far less than she’d hoped for.

‘Molly, I know it’s disappointing, because a few years ago a house like this would have probably gone to auction and achieved far more, but this is the market …’

‘So what happens next?’

‘If you decide that our firm will handle the sale of your property, here’s the way it works. Mossbawn would go up on our country-house section of the website and we would inform a number of potential buyers both here and overseas of its availability, then once there is interest we’d come back to you with regard to setting up viewings. But you have to be aware that the market at this time is extremely slow and there are a number of similar properties, some much closer to Dublin, already on our
books. However, I personally feel this house has much to offer a potential buyer who wants to live or perhaps have an Irish holiday retreat in this area, given there are fishing rights.’

‘Will you be handling the sale?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Well, Ronan King, one of the senior partners, usually does country houses and castles, but I work directly for him,’ he assured her.

‘It’s just that I’d like the house, if possible, to go to another family; and also I don’t want a big For Sale sign up in front, with everyone knowing my business and people coming up the driveway out of curiosity.’

‘I’m afraid it’s far too early to deduce what kind of interest the sale will bring,’ he said, ‘though lately two or three large homes like this have been sold to expatriates with families who are returning to live in Ireland after years overseas; they are often cash buyers. Listen, I will put everything in writing to you with regard to Murphy King handling this sale, to explain our procedures and terms, and I’ll make sure there is no signage.’

As she said goodbye to the young auctioneer, Molly was up in a heap wondering if she was making the right decision even to consider selling Mossbawn … but maybe she should test the market and see what happened.

EMMA AND GRACE WERE BOTH HOME FOR THE WEEKEND, AND
Molly loved hearing them about the place, playing their iPods, singing and laughing, and constantly on their phones. She hadn’t realized how quiet the house had become. Emma’s boyfriend, Jake, was coming tomorrow for one night. She was keen to have the chance to get to know him properly, as lately he seemed to have become pivotal in her daughter’s life.

‘Mum, there’s something wrong with the shower!’ Emma yelled loudly from upstairs.

Molly ran up to see if her usual jiggling and turning buttons would make a difference.

‘One minute the water was boiling, nearly scalding me, and then it was like ice!’ shouted Emma, clutching a towel, her hair covered in shampoo. ‘It’s gone crazy and it’s spurting at me like a kettle!’

‘There!’ Molly said, tinkering with it and wetting half her sleeve. ‘The water’s perfect again!’

‘Why is everything in this house broken?’ moaned Emma dramatically as she stepped back into the shower.

Molly sighed. The plumber had recommended fitting a totally new shower, but it was going to cost a fortune. She’d been hoping to make do for another while. She was used to making do and managing. David was the one who had always meticulously organized plumbers and electricians and repair work, not her. He had done everything seamlessly, often not even telling her.

Going back downstairs she set the table while Grace went to pull a bit of lettuce from the garden.

With David gone, proper family meals seemed a thing of the past and it was something she really missed, so having the girls here was wonderful.

‘Mum, chicken Provençale – my favourite,’ grinned Emma as she passed around the plates and put bowls of new potatoes and salad on the table. ‘You must show me how to make it so I can do it for Jake.’

‘Sounds very serious,’ teased Grace.

‘He’s my boyfriend and I do cook for him sometimes, Grace, believe it or not, and he cooks for me!’ retorted Emma firmly.

Molly stifled a grin.

‘Well, I’ll make it for my boyfriend too – whenever I get one!’ Grace joked.

They all chatted easily, Kim filling them in on what she was doing.

‘Your friend’s art website sounds cool! I must check it out.’

‘I’m hoping to design a few more websites,’ she grinned, ‘but this time hopefully I’ll get paid for them, as I need the money.’

‘Talking about money and work … Kim, I was talking to Frances, Dr Jim’s wife, in the supermarket today and she’s going in to have a hip replacement in a few weeks. She and Jim are looking for someone to fill in for her on reception while she is off work. She said it will probably be for about eight to ten weeks. They don’t really want to have to pay an agency fee and are looking for someone local to help out. I told her that you might be interested.’

‘Definitely – I’d definitely be interested!’ said Kim, excited.

‘I’ll talk to Frances then,’ Molly offered.

Kim had made chocolate brownies for dessert and Emma got up and made a pot of coffee.

‘Hey, I’ve got to phone Evie,’ Kim said, getting up from the table and disappearing upstairs. Molly was glad of her discretion; she needed to talk to her daughters.

‘Girls, I have to talk to you about something.’ She began by telling them about opening an account for each of them.

‘Mum, you need the money more than we do,’ protested Emma. ‘There’s no need to give us money, because once we finish college we’ll both get jobs and hopefully have careers.’

‘Keep it – you need it for yourself … for the house,’ added Grace, concerned. ‘We know Dad died before he had the time to save a proper pension, so it’s for you. You’ll need it over the years.’

‘Listen, your dad would have wanted you each to have a bit of financial independence, to be able to do things you want when you finish college,’ she insisted. ‘And don’t worry – there’s enough for me to manage.’

She could see that the girls were moved.

‘Are you sure, Mum?’

‘Yes, I’m doing what Dad would have wanted, so that’s all there is to it!’ she said, brooking no further argument. ‘Now, the other big thing I want to talk to you about is selling the house.’

‘What?’ they both shouted in dismay.

‘You want to sell Mossbawn?’

‘Why?’ asked Grace, perplexed.

‘I’m thinking about it,’ she admitted. ‘Putting Mossbawn up for sale breaks my heart just as much as yours. But living here on my own is so strange! You know how much the house means to me, and the garden, but without your dad … it’s not the same. I’m rattling around the place here all day and all night. Sometimes I can’t sleep with worrying about it and I spend most of the time trying to keep things going, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep that up. The mortgage is finally cleared and for the first time ever we owe absolutely nothing on the house, which is one good thing, so maybe it’s time to put it up for sale.’

‘But we love this house,’ protested Emma vehemently. ‘It’s our home.’

‘Mossbawn is ours – we grew up here … We love it.’ Grace’s eyes welled with tears. ‘I don’t ever want it to be sold!’

‘I know that you both love the house, love the place. We all do. It’s just that I don’t know how much longer I can stay living here on my own. Trying to run a big house like this is a constant worry. With your dad’s income we managed just about, but now it’s just me trying to do it. I’ll be honest, I can’t earn enough to keep it properly and I’m not sure what to do.’

‘There must be some other way,’ pleaded Grace. ‘Maybe you could get people to stay here?’

‘Grace, I know that we have eight bedrooms, but there are only really four good, presentable bedrooms that people would pay money for,’ Molly explained. ‘The Kilfinn Inn takes guests, and of course the Woodlands Hotel, judging by the prices, is practically giving rooms away. So I have absolutely no intention of competing with them.’

‘But we don’t want you to sell Mossbawn!’ argued Emma. ‘This is our home.’

‘You’re living in Galway at the moment and Grace is in Dublin,’ Molly reminded them gently. ‘Only last night you were saying to me that you and Jake are thinking of going travelling for a year when you finish studying – heading to Australia and maybe working there for another year.’

‘I’ll stay home then if you want.’

‘It’s not a question of staying home,’ Molly tried to explain. ‘I want you to go and see the world, travel and have fun. I don’t want Mossbawn to be a ball and chain that you have to come home to.’

‘It would never be that,’ replied Emma angrily. ‘It’s our home and Dad wouldn’t want you to sell it – I know that he wouldn’t.’

‘If your dad was alive this would not be an issue. We’d both be living here, growing old and crusty together, with you and your husbands and maybe our grandchildren visiting, who knows … but that’s all changed now and it’s just me here.’

‘Oh Mum!’ said Grace, bursting into tears properly now. ‘It’s so awful – so unfair!’

‘We all know that,’ said Molly, trying to stay calm. ‘But I have to consider selling. I’ve talked to an auctioneer in Dublin and they
have so many old country houses that people can’t afford to manage any more on their books … But he said that doesn’t matter: you only need to find one buyer, one person who falls in love with a house, to sell it. The market is still pretty awful, but I just want to see … there’s no rush. There will not be any big For Sale signs or anything like that. They will just have Mossbawn discreetly on their books so if someone does come looking for a house like this, then we can see …’

‘So you mightn’t sell it!’ said Emma, relieved.

‘It might never happen.’

‘But if someone did come along and wanted to buy it,’ probed Grace, ‘where would we live? Would you move to Dublin?’

‘I like Dublin,’ she smiled, ‘but I’m not sure that I could go back to living there. No, I’m used to Kilfinn, so hopefully that’s where I’ll stay. We all like it here.’

They all nodded in agreement.

‘So it might never happen!’ repeated Emma firmly.

‘We’ll just have to see,’ Molly said, getting up to put on the kettle again. ‘The Murtaghs’ big house on the Kilkenny Road has been for sale for more than two years and apparently no one has even put an offer in on it.’

‘It’s a dreary-looking house,’ said Grace, ‘and it’s cold. Remember we used to always freeze at Charlie Murtagh’s birthday parties?’

As she made more coffee, Molly could see both girls were quiet, thinking about the awful possibility of Mossbawn being sold.

The rest of the weekend flew by. Jake arrived mid-afternoon the next day. With his shoulder-length hair and dark beard he was very different from the guys Emma normally dated, but he was funny and kind and insisted on being given a full tour of the house and garden. Molly was impressed by his knowledge of growing cabbages and potatoes.

‘My dad grows them in our garden at home in Limerick.’

Emma had said he was a bit of a science genius and he certainly
came across as being intelligent, but not in a nerdy way. Molly was delighted to see the way he treated Emma and how his eyes lit up when she walked into the room. It was clear he adored her older daughter and that the feeling was mutual. David would definitely have approved of the relationship.

After dinner on Saturday Emma was taking him out to meet a few of her friends from the village. Kim and Grace and Molly decided to drive to the cinema in Kilkenny to see the latest Cameron Diaz film. Set in the world of internet dating, it was hilarious. Afterwards, on the way home, Molly dropped the girls off at the Kilfinn Inn for a drink.

Next day, after a family Sunday lunch and a long walk in the woods, Molly was sad to see them pack up and go. Emma and Jake were driving back and Grace was getting the train. She hated them leaving, and grabbing the Sunday papers she went and curled up in the sitting room with Daisy snoozing at her feet.

KIM SAT BEHIND THE DESK IN DR JIM MCCARTHY’S RECEPTION
area. The surgery was busy already and she checked people in as they arrived, adding them to Dr Jim’s daily patient list. He would be able to call up their folders on his computer screen in his office. For any new patient, her job was to set up a medical folder with all their details before they went in to see the doctor.

She still couldn’t believe that she had managed to get the temping job as his receptionist. Molly had talked to Frances McCarthy and before she knew it Kim was having an interview with the local GP and his wife in the surgery off River Street.

‘The last time you were in this surgery you were about thirteen,’ Dr Jim recalled. ‘You cut your knee and leg badly and needed a few stitches!’

‘I fell out of a tree in Molly’s, and was scared because I had to get a tetanus injection too,’ she remembered. ‘But you were so kind and kept talking to me about your dog Binky.’

‘There never was a dog, cat, horse or hamster called Binky!’ laughed Frances. ‘But Jim always found him a great distraction for nervous patients. We never could have a cat or dog as our middle girl is allergic to cat and dog dander.’