He shrugged his shoulders. ‘No problem.’
It was then Jo realised they had just landed very firmly in that uncomfortable little territory where they had said what they needed to say and now needed to say goodbye and go about their business while acknowledging that both were walking in the same direction.
Lorcan looked down to his feet – he wore old-school Vans, which he scuffed about in a manner that reminded her of a shy schoolboy. She wondered whether it would look odd to suddenly start walking back in the direction she came from just to avoid him.
‘How about you thank me with a coffee?’ she heard him say.
When she looked up, he was grinning at her, a proper cheeky-chappy smile. She was thrown a little. It seemed very endearing, but she thought of all the things Harry had told her about him. The things that Harry didn’t seem to have a problem with but which had always struck Jo as the actions of someone spoiled and selfish. The biggest action, or inaction, being his failure to come and see his grandfather when he was gravely ill the year before.
‘You’re not a bit shy, are you?’ she asked him.
‘What’s the point? It doesn’t get you anywhere in life. Look, I’m new in town. It’s been a while since I’ve spent any length of time in Derry – those long summers visiting my grandparents are a distant memory. It might be nice to have a local show me around.’
‘You have your grandad to show you around,’ she replied. ‘Isn’t he who you came to visit?’
‘Yeah, well, that much is true and I love him to bits, but his idea of what needs to be seen here and what I want to see don’t always marry up. I asked him about the mural that’s been painted of the characters from the Derry Girls TV series and he looked at me as if I had three heads. Told me there are other Derry girls who should have their pictures painted. Which reminds me, do you know who Dana is? It seems Grandad is a fan.’
Jo scoffed. ‘Yes. She won the Eurovision Song Contest for Ireland in the seventies, I think. Bit before my time.’
‘Well, Grandad thinks she’s a great wee girl altogether,’ he said, putting on a Derry accent that wasn’t actually that far off the mark. Jo couldn’t stop herself from laughing, and it was a proper laugh, bubbling right up from inside.
‘Well, that sounds like Harry for sure,’ her antipathy towards Lorcan mellowing as he spoke so fondly of his grandfather. ‘How about I show you the Derry Girls mural and we get that coffee? You can buy the buns,’ she said.
‘Are you sure you don’t have somewhere to be?’ he asked, his eyebrow raised. ‘You were powering along there like a woman on a mission. I assumed you were going to work or somewhere important.’
‘Ah no. I was just out for a walk. My work is in entirely the other direction – in Ivy Lane as it happens. I’m one of the owners of The Ivy Inn.’
‘And you help Grandad out too from time to time?’ Lorcan asked.
‘When needed, yeah. But at the moment I am on some unexpected leave from all responsibilities, so I have ample time to show you the mural and grab a coffee.’
She wasn’t sure it was the right move, but she figured she might as well try and see if Harry’s faith in Lorcan was warranted after all.
‘You know what? I think that sounds perfect,’ Lorcan said. ‘I am a huge fan of the show. My ex used to love it to. Called me her wee English fellah, even though she’s English too.’ His face clouded a little. ‘To be honest, I don’t think I can face going back to Grandad’s just yet and wrestling with his archaic TV to try and find something worth watching.’
‘He’s not a big man for the TV,’ Jo said with a laugh, having listened to Harry wax lyrical about the appeal of the ‘wireless’ over the TV many times. ‘All those channels and on every single one of them they’re all talking a load of nonsense,’ she mimicked.
‘That’s pretty much it,’ Lorcan laughed. ‘So do you want to lead the way?’
Jo nodded, made sure her bag was properly zipped up and turned to walk back in the direction of the city centre. As promised, she’d take him to see the Derry Girls mural – a painting of the four main characters of the comedy show which had become a global hit – and then for a coffee in the Pickled Duck – a quirky café beside the city’s Guildhall.
Sure, she had nothing better to do with her day and she was getting a feeling that he wasn’t quite as annoying as she’d first thought.
11
A Dog’s Purpose
Lorcan proved to be a bit of a dark horse and Jo was surprised to find that, despite her first impressions of him, he was actually quite entertaining. They had taken selfies at the mural as if they were tourists, and then Lorcan had paid for some sausage rolls, complete with the Pickled Duck’s renowned ‘ding’ – a home-made brown sauce – and even insisted on covering the cost of the coffee as well.
The conversation between the two of them flowed easily. He told her of the summers he spent holidaying in Derry as a child with his parents and two younger siblings, and she told him how she’d always thought it was strange anyone would choose to come to Derry to spend their summer.
‘You don’t appreciate what’s on your own doorstep,’ Lorcan said. ‘No one does. You take it for granted – but for us it was something different. And it was near the beach and the mountains and it felt otherworldly. We were always spoiled rotten when we came to stay too. I think we ate half of Grandad’s sweetie stock in the summer months. He always saved some for us, brought it home at the end of the day.’
Jo smiled. She knew Harry’s ways well enough to know that his actions were not always as altruistic as they seemed. ‘Did you ever think to check the sell-by date on them, by any chance?’ she asked, and Lorcan raised an eyebrow.
‘No, I don’t think I did. Why?’
‘Spend enough time with your grandad now, and you’ll learn,’ she said with a laugh.
After they’d eaten, and as Jo started to see her opinion of Lorcan may not have been a fair one, they decided to make the most of the sunny day and opted for a walking tour of the city with one of the city’s many well-informed, and entertaining, guides. To her shame, it was as much of an education to her as it was to Lorcan. They walked the historic walls which surrounded Derry city centre, calling into St Columb’s Cathedral, the Craft Village and the Tower Museum, and heard stories of Derry’s darkest and brightest days.
When that finished, Jo found they still hadn’t run out of conversation, so Lorcan suggested they grab a quick drink. She said that sounded like a great idea.
‘How about that pub you work in? The Ivy Inn?’ he asked.
Jo shook her head. ’No. No, it’s my day off. I would end up getting dragged in to help out, pull some pints or walk the dog…’
‘Walk the dog?’
‘Paddy. He’s a rescue. A big soppy dote of a dog who likes to take me for very long walks.’ A wave of affection for her big furry friend washed over her.
‘I love dogs,’ Lorcan said with a smile, but Jo saw his face cloud over almost as soon as he spoke. ‘I had the best dog in the world. Scraps. A mutt of a thing. Rescue too, but gives so much love.’