Of Seamus’s children, only Michael had resisted the urge to leave and seek his fortune. He’d made his life in Tarabeg instead, with the help of the surprise gift of the seven acres and money from his grandfather. Daedio had presented this to Michael when he returned from the war and married Sarah, the sweetheart he’d left behind. They used the money to build a home and a business on the land next to the road, opposite Paddy and Josie Devlin’s butcher’s shop and bar.

Malone’s General Store was positioned in the centre of the village, in front of the river at the foot of Tarabeg Hill, atop which Michael’s parents, Seamus and Nola, had their farm. Sarah may have departed her mortal soul in delivering Michael’s son, Finn, but according to Bridget McAndrew she was still among them in spirit. Michael knew this to be true; Sarah came to him too often for him to doubt Bridget’s word.

The store had gone from strength to strength, providing everything a villager, farmer or tourist fisherman, of which there was an ever-growing number, could need. This kept Michael well rooted in the village. He lived there with his second wife, Rosie, his son Finn and their help, Peggy Kennedy. Since Mary Kate had moved to Liverpool two years earlier, Peggy now lived in as part of the family, in Mary Kate’s old room.

Up on the farm, Seamus and Nola had food stored out in the old house to see them through the winter – bottled in syrup, pickled in jars, packed in straw. It gave Nola a feeling of deep satisfaction every time she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her harvest work, just as it did every year. The sight of her wooden crates, loose tea-chests, and cardboard boxes she had requisitioned from Michael’s shop all piled up, bulging at the seams and waiting for the winter to begin never failed to make her smile.

The turf shed next to the old house was packed with peat bricks that during the summer months Seamus had cut, turned, ricked and then collected to keep the fires going. This year, the shed was so full that some of the bricks had to be stored inside the old house, layered in neatly arranged stacks against the gable-end wall. This record-breaking effort was due to Joe Malone, a wealthy young man from America who had arrived, like many, in search of his roots, and had remained in Tarabeg ever since. He’d been on the trail of an old will and testament, and to his delight had found that Daedio, the youngest brother of his great-great-granddaddy, was still in residence at Tarabeg Farm and thought to be long past his hundredth birthday.

Following Daedio’s death, Joe threw himself into helping out on the farm, assisting Seamus and Pete Shevlin, the farm labourer and cowman. It was the first time since the Malone children had taken off for America, years ago, that they’d managed to stack that much turf. Joe owned a business in America that made him rich without him ever having to lift a finger – something which was a mystery to them all – and Seamus and Pete were astounded to discover that he could cut the peat twice as fast as any Irishman.