Catherine O’Flynn - Mr Lynch’s Holiday

Jean laughed. ‘Oh, don’t worry at all. I’m sure he has better things to do than sit and listen to us going on. Come in, come in.’

Jean and David lived in a large detached house with views towards the sea. It had more furnishings than Eamonn’s apartment — pictures on the walls, sofas, a few ornaments on shelves and cabinets — but something about it still felt empty and new.

David emerged from the kitchen, shook Dermot’s hand and offered him a drink. Dermot asked for a cup of tea, realizing too late that Jean and David were both drinking wine.

They sat out on the patio, where a table was laid. It was David who served the food. Some sort of salad. Dermot noticed David was wearing an apron and that he didn’t take it off. Dermot had worked alongside people from all over the world, all ages and levels of education, but he did not know people like Jean and David. People like Jean and David neither used nor worked on the buses. The English middle classes, like Emperor Penguins, Dermot knew only from the television.

‘So how long have you been free from the shackles, Dermot?’ asked David

‘I’m sorry?’

‘When did you retire?’

‘Oh, right. Well, I clung on as late as I could. They let you stay on a bit on the buses, so I was there till I was seventy, but then Kathleen — my wife — her health was getting worse, so I gave up and looked after her. I was doing that till the end of last year. Five years in total it was. She passed away in November.’

‘Yes, Eamonn told us. I’m sorry, it must be hard for you on your own,’ said Jean.

‘I’m not as badly off as I might have been. I’m not like some fellas my age who can’t even cook a bit of toast.’

‘Eamonn must be a comfort to you as well.’

The thought had never really occurred to Dermot, but he nodded and smiled. ‘I think you two had the right idea though. This is the way to retire. A lovely place like this.’

‘Oh, we’re always reminding ourselves how lucky we are.’

‘Luck has nothing to do with it. You made a decision. The rest of us are too stuck in our ways.’

Jean smiled. ‘Well, we both retired in 2006 and we just felt we’d served our time. It had always been a dream of ours to live out here. We loved the country, had been coming every year to different parts. We just thought: “You only live once and life is for living.” You know how it is.’

She must have been around the same age as Kathleen but they seemed worlds apart. Life wasn’t about living for Kathleen, life was about striving and sacrifice and offering things up to God. She’d believed a reward was waiting for her.

‘Well, you did the right thing, it’s a very nice spot here.’

‘It is, yes,’ said David, ‘beautiful coastal walks. The hills stretch for some miles. Really spectacular views.’

‘And the food,’ said Jean, ‘is just wonderful. You can buy such a range of fresh produce all year round. Everything just seems to taste so much better. I mean, we miss having local shops. Sadly they haven’t materialized, but we enjoy the walk down to San Pedro.’

‘Yes, it’s a day out! Tell him about the swordfish, Jean.’

‘Oh, yes, Dermot, you must get Eamonn to take you to the market in Agua Blanca. The swordfish there is to die for. Absolutely mouth-watering. And the market itself is just delightful. The ladies all in their white aprons — spotlessly clean. Everything so immaculate.’

He thought he might have heard conversations like this before. Jean and David reminded him of the people he saw in the kind of slow detective programmes they showed on a Sunday night. Nice people, sitting around dinner tables, discussing fish and drinking wine. He always dozed off before Del Boy got his man.

They were eating a fancy fruit salad when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He had noticed it earlier and assumed it was a bird, but this time he turned to look and saw instead a small security camera mounted on the back wall of the house.

‘Did that come with the house?’

David followed the direction of his gaze. ‘Oh, that. No.’

Dermot watched the camera swivel once more. ‘It’s a good one, I’d say — looks very professional. Better than the ones we had on the buses anyway. You fitted it yourself, did you?’ But when he looked back David was disappearing into the house with a pile of plates.

Jean seemed embarrassed. ‘Sorry, David finds it a little difficult to talk about.’

‘Sure, I’ve no idea about them, I wasn’t meaning to sound like an expert.’

‘No, not the camera, the burglaries. Twice now. Just twice, I suppose you could say, but it’s enough.’ She paused. ‘They waited till we’d replaced our original belongings and then they took them all again.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She gave a tight smile. ‘As you can see, we’ve replaced everything again. You can’t let them win.’

‘Did the police never catch them?’

‘They did in fact. A long time after. Professionals apparently. Been doing it up and down the coast. I’m glad they were caught, though of course that’s not to say someone else won’t have the same idea and do it again.’ She fell silent for a while, before saying, ‘There’s that unpleasant sense of being observed. Someone keeping tabs on our comings and goings. Watching us. Preying upon us. You can’t help worrying it will happen again. It plays on your mind.’

David returned with coffee. ‘Here we are! Sorry that took longer than I thought. I hope Jean wasn’t subjecting you to tales of the grandkids. Once she gets a captive audience she can be merciless.’

Dermot smiled. ‘She didn’t mention them once.’

David pulled a face. ‘Well, you’re in for it now, then.’

Jean flapped her hand at him. ‘Oh, ignore him, Dermot. Do you have any grandchildren?’

‘I don’t, no. Eamonn’s our only child.’

‘Oh, I’d always assumed he came from a big family.’

Dermot said nothing.

‘Well, you need to tell Laura and him to get a move on and make you a granddad. David is pretending to be cool about it, but he’s as besotted with our grandchildren as I am.’

‘How many do you have?’

‘Just two. Our daughter Rachel has two little ones — George and Olivia.’

David sat down beside her and put his hand on hers. ‘Careful, love.’

‘David’s worried I’ll get upset.’ As soon as she spoke, tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh, goodness, I’m sorry, Dermot. What a fool. It’s just we do miss them so very much.’

David patted her hand. ‘The plan was for them to come out every school holiday, and of course we’d be popping back often too, but it hasn’t worked out that way. Unfortunately Jonathan, Rachel’s husband, was made redundant shortly after we came out here. A terrible shock — but you know how it is — it’s the same all over. So — well, with one thing and another, everything is a little stretched all round.’

Jean turned to him. ‘We’re hoping to get back for Christmas though, aren’t we?’

David chose not to answer and said instead, ‘It’s not so bad though, is it? Have you told Dermot about the Skype?’

Jean brightened. ‘Do you use Skype to call Eamonn?’

Dermot had no idea what she meant and shook his head.

‘Oh, you must, it’s free, you can chat as long as you like and it doesn’t matter. Better still, it’s on the Internet, so you can see each other. We see the kids on our computer screen and they can see us on theirs.’

‘Oh?’

David nodded. ‘Actually, Dermot, it’s virtually the same as being there. Isn’t it, love?’

‘Oh, it’s funny. We Skype them all the time now, often we haven’t any news for each other, but it’s just nice to see them, to be there … almost.’