Cén chaoi a mbeadh a fhios agamsa céard a dhéanfainn—th’éis dom é a inseacht dó—mar nach bhfaca mé m’athair ag caoineadh cheana ariamh. Ariamh! Fiú nuair a maraíodh mo mháthair sa timpiste naoi mí roimhe sin, deoir níor chaoin sé, go bhfios domsa. Táim cinnte nár chaoin mar ba mise a tharraing an drochscéal chuige. Is ba mé freisin a bhí ina fhochair i rith an ama ar fad: lnethanta bacacha úd na sochraide. Níor leagadh aon chúram eile ormsa ach amháin fanacht leis. Ba iad a chuid deartháireacha agus deartháireacha mo mháthar—mo chuid uncaileachaí—a d’iompair an chónra agus a rinne na socruithe sochraide. Ba iad comharsana an bhaile, le treoir ó mo chuid deirfiúracha, a choinnigh stiúir éicint ar chúrsaí timpeall an tí, Sórt tuiscint a bhí ann—cé nár dúradh amach díreach é, gur mise ab fhearr fanacht taobh le m’athair, óir ba mé ab óige: an t-aon duine a bhíodh sa mbaile ó cheann ceann na bliana.

How would I know what to do — after I had told him—as I had never seen my father cry before. Never! Even when my mother was killed in the accident nine months before, he didn’t cry a tear, as far as I know. I’m sure he didn’t cry because I was the one who brought him the bad news. I was also near him during the whole time: those halting days of the funeral. No other responsibilty was laid upon me except to wait for him. His brothers and my mother’s brothers—my uncles—carried the coffin and made the funeral arrangements. It was the neighbors of the town, with guidance from my sisters, who kept some direction on matters around the house, It was sort of an understanding – although it was not said out loud directly, that I was the best to stay with my father, for I was the youngest: the only person who had been at home from the beginning of the year.

Thit tost uirthi agus chuardaigh a súile corp Burr. Bhí sé clúdaithe anois ag ceann de sheolta canbháis stainnín Ghobnait.

‘Nach mbeifeá féin ag fáil bháis den éad,’ a d’fhiafraigh Gobnait.

She fell silent and her eyes searched Burr’s body. It was now covered by one of Gobnait’s tin/waxed canvas sails.

‘I have always known that he did not have a strong enduring love for me. That was not his nature. You understand he would be in want of money, a lot of money that could not be earned with the skills of a doctor, even if he had them. A wealthy patient of his fell in love with him. She was already on the brink of death. Hildebrandt proposed to marry her.’

‘Wouldn’t you yourself be dying from jealousy,’ asked Gobnait.

Faoin am seo, bhí an Duinníneach imithe i dtaithí ar thaoide na n-imeachtaí ar an mbaile. Bheadh daoine ag bogadh síos go Teach an Chaidéil Uisce anois, féachaint an mbeadh aithne acu ar éinne den dream úr a bheadh tagtha isteach ar na cóisti. Chruinnigh Burr agus Laetetia chun imeachta. Ní raibh Gobnait fillte ó sheomra na mban. Lig an Duinníneach chun siúil iad agus nuair a bhí an áit socair arís agus an pianódóir ag iarraidh daoine a spreagadh chun válsa a dhéanamh, shuigh sé taobh le hEllie agus an buachaill rua agus lig sé osna.

By this time, Dineen had become accustomed to the tide of events in the town. People would be moving down to the House of the Water Pump now, to see if they knew any of the new people to came in on the coaches. Burr and Laetetia assembled for departure. Gobnait had not returned from the women’s room. Dineen let them go and when the place was calm again and the pianist was trying to encourage people to waltz, he sat beside to Ellie and the red-headced boy and let out a sigh.

Tháinig deireadh leis an seisiún pianó. D’éirigh an bhean bheag dhubh, chuaigh sí caol direach chuig Burr agus sheas sí taobh leis, go sealbhach.

D’fhág Gobnait a cuid cniotála ar ghlúin an Duinnínigh agus chas sí i dtreo na ndaoine a bhí seasta thart ar an bpianó.

The piano session ended. The little black haired woman got up, went straight to Burr and stood next to him, possessively.

‘Isn’t she the fool, her heart being out on her palm like that?’ said Gobnait. ‘Stay there, Dineen, and take care of my garments.’

Gobnait left her knitting on Dineen’s knee and turned towards the people standing around the piano.

‘B’fhéidir go gcasfaidh bean a dhiongbhála air an uair seo,’ arsa an Duinníneach, mar a dhéanfadh iascaire agus cuil á cur amach ar an domhain aige.

Gairmeadh isteach i seomra an dochtúra Duinníneach agus an nath sin le meabhrú aige.

‘Maybe the woman who is his match will meet him this time,’ said Dineen as a fisherman would do when he casts a fly out into the world.

‘Well, Father, you know it has been said that there is no cure for death, but marriage again.’

Dineen was called into the Doctor’s room with that saying to meditate on.