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Back The Godmothers Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-one
  25. Chapter Twenty-two
  26. Chapter Twenty-three
  27. Chapter Twenty-four
  28. Chapter Twenty-five
  29. Chapter Twenty-six
  30. Chapter Twenty-seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-one
  35. Chapter Thirty-two
  36. Chapter Thirty-three
  37. Chapter Thirty-four
  38. Chapter Thirty-five
  39. Chapter Thirty-six
  40. Chapter Thirty-seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-one
  45. Chapter Forty-two
  46. Epilogue
  47. Extract from Those Faraday Girls
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. About the Author
  50. Also by Monica McInerney

She told him the truth. Something made her feel her mother would want Emmet to know. She kept it brief, but she explained the circumstances. The bath. Alcohol and medication. The coroner’s involvement. The ruling that it was a tragic accident.

She could see shock in his eyes. He told her again how sorry he was. ‘What age were you?’

‘Seventeen.’

‘Ah, you poor kid. You poor thing.’ He frowned then. ‘So what year were you born?’

She told him.

‘My own pretty eventful year. So she had you not long —’

The door opened. A couple, tourists. She knew he’d have to get up any moment to serve them.

She’d waited for this meeting for so long. Imagined it so many times. She had wanted her father to be a nice man. Better than nice. A good man. A kind man. A man who’d loved her mother even for a little while. She’d seen, so quickly, so clearly, Emmet’s affection for Jeannie. She’d planned to slowly raise the subject. To tell him about the games her mother used to play about her possible different fathers. She’d planned to be tactful. Diplomatic. To tread so carefully.

She forgot all of that. She asked him now, quickly, before he left again and she lost her nerve.

‘Emmet, I’m sorry, but I need to know. Are you my father?’

Chapter Thirty

CHAPTER THIRTY

Emmet burst out laughing.

‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten how direct you Aussies are. Listen, can you hold on? I’ll be right back.’

She wanted to run. Start again. Come back and do it in a dignified way. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d asked her to leave. A stranger, asking that.

After serving the new arrivals, he returned with his phone. ‘Are you in Trim long? My wife would love to meet you. She met Jeannie too. That month we were here, working together, before she went back to Australia. Hold on.’ He dialled. ‘Love, it’s me. You won’t believe it. We’ve an Aussie in the bar. A young Aussie. You’ll never guess whose daughter she is. Jeannie Miller. Yes, I’m serious. No. No, sad news there. You will. Grand, yes, see you soon.’

He still hadn’t answered her question. He was smiling, shaking his head in amazement. ‘Jeannie’s daughter. Here in my pub. It’s incredible.’

She was puzzled. Had she even asked the question out loud?

She tried again. ‘Emmet, I don’t know if you heard me.’

‘I did indeed. I don’t get asked a question like that every day of the week. Eliza, much as I’d be proud to claim you, I can categorically assure you I’m not your father.’

It couldn’t end like this. ‘Are you sure?’