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her father said. Pillars of the community. For a few hours on a Sunday Mr Kelly was a model citizen. Then the week started over and he’d return to his bullying ways until the following Sunday when all was forgiven. Keeva didn’t see the point in that. She simply wanted her prayers to be answered; for the potatoes to grow and for the punters to return.

After the church service Mr Kelly shook hands with the priest, “Great sermon,” he said, squeezing Father Michael’s hand tightly.

“Thank you,” smiled Father Michael. “How’s the family?”

“Oh, grand,” fibbed Mr Kelly. “I’m a lucky man with a beautiful wife, isn’t she beautiful?”

Mrs Kelly smiled, lips pursed. A small crowd had gathered to meet with Father Michael.

“She’s a great mother,” continued Mr Kelly, “and a great cook. We’re lucky to have her, aren’t we lads?”

Conall and his brother nodded but kept quiet.

“And how’s business?” asked Father Michael.

“Grand,” fibbed Mr Kelly again, determined to keep up appearances. “We’ve a new whiskey arrivin’ next week lads, they call it the water of life.”

“The water of life eh? You make it sound like holy water,” said Father Michael.

“There’s nothing holy about whiskey, I can tell you that now,” said one of the parishioners.

“I bet it’s not cheap either,” said another.

Mr Kelly puffed out his chest and inhaled deeply. Conall could tell his father may not hold his composure much longer.

“I can tell you it’s the best whiskey in the world and it’ll be comin’ here, straight from the distillery in Dublin,” said Conall, “but if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ on which to get drunk with a clean conscience, may I recommend ether. Even Father Michael could drink it.”

“And it’s cheap!” piped William, another of Mr Kelly’s sons. “Even the poorest of you could drink it two or three times a day.”

“Two or three times a day? We’d never get any work done,” called someone from the crowd.

“That’s the beauty of ether,” said Mr Kelly, “you’ll sober up just as quickly as you got drunk and I’ve never known anyone to suffer a hangover because of it.”

A parishioner caught Father Michael’s attention and took him aside, leaving the rest of the congregation to part ways.

“The tavern opens at noon!” called Conall.

“What’s this talk of whiskey and ether?” asked Mrs Kelly as they walked along the church path.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down woman,” said Mr Kelly. “You shouldn’t be questioning me in front of our friends. Connal lad, you’re a genius.”

The Kellys walked back to the tavern, Mr Kelly and the lads marching on ahead and Mrs Kelly and Keeva walking behind with the babes. Mrs Kelly stopped several times to adjust her shoe and switch arms with the child she was carrying. She was breathless and small beads of sweat glistened on her forehead even though it wasn’t particularly warm.

“Come on ma,” said Keeva.

“I don’t know what you’re in a hurry for lass. Thought you’d rather be out in this fresh air.”

“If we get enough punters I won’t have to go to the workhouse, will I?”

“And where d’you think we’ve the money to buy stock? I don’t know what your father’s thinkin’.”

Keeva stopped still in her tracks while her mother walked on.

When Keeva arrived back at the tavern the men were already setting up the bar in anticipation of a busy lunchtime, busier than they’d had of late.

“Don’t get your hopes up now,” said Mrs Kelly, “people are hard up, they’re not suddenly gonna have money to spend on booze.”

“If you’ve nothin’ productive to say, don’t say anythin’ at all,” grumbled Mr Kelly.

“Where’s all this stock comin’ from?” asked Mrs Kelly, “And where’d you find the money to pay for the whiskey?”

“The ether’s been lyin’ about for ages ma, we’ve just not had the punters in,” explained Conall.

“Even so, if they didn’t have the money yesterday, they’re not gonna have it today.’

“This town’s been miserable for long enough,” said Mr Kelly, poking at the fire in the kitchen. “People want to feel good, even if it’s short lived.”

“We told you, this stuff’s really cheap,” said William. “Get enough punters in and it could see us through the week at least.”

“And what about the whiskey? We can’t afford that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Mr Kelly who was now standing in the doorway to the bar holding out his hand.

Mrs Kelly stepped forward to get a closer look at the aquamarine gemstones he was holding.

“Where did you get those?” she gasped.

“In the fire,” smiled Mr Kelly, “mixed in with the turf. And I’ll bet there’s more where these came from.”

Mr Kelly clenched the gems in his fist and hugged his wife, swinging her around in a circle.

“Lads, forget that sea wall tomorrow, you’re to get down that peat bog with Breck and start diggin’.”

Excited by what she’d heard, Keeva rushed out of the tavern to find Breck.

At the lighthouse that morning, Cordelia walked into breakfast to find her friends already sitting at their usual table.

“Hey,” said Cordelia, sheepishly.

Lana glanced up, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.

“I’m sorry I’ve neglected you recently,” said Cordelia. “I wanted to get as much dive practise in as possible. I know I’m not as good as you, I need all the practise I can get.”

“Are you going to sit down?” asked Lana.

“I’m sorry,” said Cordelia, pulling out a chair, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry,” said Nerissa, “you’re here now.”

“You know, we’d be more than happy to help you with your diving,” said Masika.

“I know,” began Cordelia, “but look what happened with the ravens. I don’t want you to get hurt again. Not on my account.”

“Is that what all this disappearing off has been about?” asked Lana. “You’re worried we might get hurt?”

Cordelia shrugged. “Maybe Max was right. Maybe it’s me they’re after.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lana.

“What if he’s right? What if you’re with me and they attack again?”

Cordelia studied her friends’ faces to gauge their reactions. They seemed genuinely concerned that she had been keeping all

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