She had no luck with the first five calls. The sixth rang out unanswered. She hit the jackpot on the seventh. A young man, relaxed, cheerful, happy to listen and ready for a chat.

‘Aye, the fella who owns the pub is Emmet. Emmet Foley. He went out to Melbourne when he was my age. I’m going there myself at the end of the year. He’s been giving me some tips. Where to go, where not to go. I didn’t want to break the news to him that it might have changed in three decades.’

‘Could I speak to him?’

‘Sorry, no. He and his wife and kids are away on holiday. Back the day after tomorrow. I’m holding the fort. Doing a mighty job of it if I do say so myself. Do you want to leave a message? You’re calling from Australia, you said?’

Maxie couldn’t leave an Edinburgh number. Her mobile was a UK one too.

‘No. I don’t want to put him to any expense. I’ll call back. Before I go, can I please ask a strange question? If you’re not too busy?’

‘Ask away.’

‘Can you see the castle from the pub? Trim Castle? The one used in that Mel Gibson film?’

‘I’m looking at it right now,’ the young man said.

Chapter Twenty-eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

‘Do you want us to be there with you?’ Olivia asked Eliza.

Her answer was immediate. Yes. Both of them.

Emmet wasn’t due back in Trim for two days. They’d take the car ferry, Olivia decided. Better for Eliza, more room for Maxie and her plastered foot. Within an hour, it was organised. They’d drive the three hours from Edinburgh to Cairnryan Port. Get the ferry to Belfast, a two and a half hour trip. Drive for less than two hours to Trim. Olivia booked them into a hotel there, right next to the castle. Google Maps told them it was minutes from Emmet’s pub.

It only took a day for their plans to unravel.

Hazel was given an unexpected two days off from the New York production. She was flying back to Edinburgh to see Maxie for a brief reunion. Eliza assured Maxie she understood: of course she couldn’t go to Ireland now.

Olivia received a different kind of phone call. The matron in charge of Edgar’s care rang, asking for an urgent meeting. Edgar appeared to be entering a new phase of his illness. Agitation. Fear. He was constantly asking for Olivia. When she went to see him, he wouldn’t stop weeping.

On her return, tearful herself, Olivia called Maxie. ‘I can’t leave him. What if something worse happens while I’m away?’

‘We’ll postpone the Irish trip. Eliza will understand.’

‘We can’t. She’s waited years for this.’

‘Could she go alone?’

‘She doesn’t drive.’