Pete rubbed his hands across his eyes, wiping away the imaginary dust. Pulling another piece of straw from his pallet, he began to chew on the end of it, but not for long, as another thought appeared to strike him. ‘How long is he staying in Tarabeg for, Nola? If Mary Kate comes back, she might want to stay with you and not down in the shop, you know. She was never away from this place. Shouldn’t he be finding his own bed by now? I thought he was moving into the teacher’s house with Declan.’

Pete’s voice had turned into a whine and Nola was taken aback at how miserable he sounded. In all the years he’d worked for them, she’d never heard him utter a cross word or a complaint.

‘Pete, what is wrong with ye? Peggy has been working at Michael’s shop for years and never once have you mentioned her name to me before today. Declan has his mammy to stay with him, as you know – she’s old now, and he can’t keep travelling back to Galway to visit her. And besides, I like having American Joe here. ’Tis no trouble to me, one more mouth to feed. Now what is it? Why is what Peggy thinks about anyone bothering ye?’

Pete flushed to the roots of his hair.

Nola pulled her hand away from the horse as he lifted the second half of the apple from her. She wiped the slobber onto her skirt, held tight onto the pocketful of apples with the other, and took a step towards Pete to see him more clearly. ‘Oh, Holy Mother of God, no. Are you sweet on Peggy – after all this time? Pete Shevlin, are you a slow starter? Aren’t you past thirty-five years of age? What has got into ye?’

‘I didn’t know. I only just… Oh, I don’t know.’ Pete sat up on his mattress and placed his head in his hands.

‘What, you only knew you liked her when someone else began paying her attention, is that what you’re telling me? Well, you deserve to lose her to American Joe if that’s the case. If you can’t tell Peggy you’re sweet on her, don’t blame her as she goes flashing her eyes at the best-looking fella around.’

Pete groaned and Nola looked shamefaced.

‘Okay, second best. I’ve always told Seamus you’re a good-looking fella and that I don’t know why you’ve not married at all.’

‘I don’t know what to do, Nola. How do I tell her? She doesn’t even like me.’

Nola shook her head. ‘Fellas. I wonder sometimes how we all manage. I mean, how do we farm and have children and survive, because every flamin’ thing you lot seem to do is wrong one way or another. Isn’t there a dance coming up at the long hall? American Joe never goes to those.’

‘There is,’ said Pete. ‘But, you know, I never go to them either.’

‘Well, now’s the time to start. I only know about the dance because Joe read the poster in the post office out loud to me when he took me in the car to see Mrs Doyle, and I think Josie and Keeva might be selling the tickets from behind the butcher’s counter.’