The Heather Blazing by Colm Tóibín Read Free Book Online

with Rita, but I hear she’s not well. I went up to Murphy’s so I have all the news.”
    â€œI’d say they were talking about Mike,” he said.
    â€œMrs. Murphy said that he wasn’t in any danger at all, that he’s stayed in the caravan during bad weather over the past few years. I never knew that. She says that he won’t get any compensation.”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I checked up on that years ago.”
    *  *  *
    After a few days of drizzle the weather improved. They sat out in the front garden in deckchairs as the strong sun appeared at intervals from between the clouds. He took his togs and towel and walked down the lane to the strand. The sea was rough, the water a glinting steely-grey. He moved down the strand, away from a family group who had installed themselves at the bottom of the cliff. He took off his socks and shoes and rolled up his trousers so he could paddle in the water, test the temperature. The water came in over his feet with a shock of cold, the sun had gone in again, and he wondered if he should not just go for a walk and come back along the cliff in time for lunch.
    He would have to brave it. After a few days he would get used to the searing cold and once down in the water it would be pure pleasure as long as he kept moving and did not think about the cold. He changed into his togs and looked up at the sky to see if the sun would soon appear, but a few heavy black clouds had blown in over the sea. He shivered as he stood there before walking down to the shoreline with slow determination. He waded in, trying not to be put off by the cold. He put his hand into the water, and wet his face and chest. He jumped to avoid the impact of a large wave, but he was now wet up to the waist. He stood for a moment, hesitant and undecided, and then in a flash he dived down into the water, swimming right out, keeping under the surface asmuch as possible and then turning on his back and letting himself float with his head tilted into the water and his eyes shut. He swam out beyond the point where the waves broke, where the sea was just a slight swelling and falling. The water became bearable as he swam around, he crawled further out and stopped to look back at the low cliff at Cush, all yellow marly sand and tufts of grass, rising to the higher cliffs at Ballyconnigar where the sand was paler, like gravel.
    He shivered with the cold as he dried himself. He could not wait to get his clothes on. He dressed as quickly as he could, and as he reached the shell of Mike’s house, having walked up the cliff, he felt a comforting warmth, a sense of ease. The sky was now overcast and grey. Carmel was in the porch and when he opened the door he noticed that she had been dozing with a book on her lap. She woke and smiled at him.
    â€œThis weather makes me sleepy,” she said.
    He put bread and cheese and salad on the table and made tea. She yawned as she came into the living room and sat down.
    â€œI forgot to tell you that Madge Kehoe invited us for our dinner. She said that maybe we’d play cards afterwards. I said that we hadn’t played cards for years.”
    â€œWhen?” he asked.
    â€œNext week,” she said. “They have a Christian Brother staying with them.”
    â€œAnd they want us to play cards?” he laughed. “I used to play cards with Madge and her mother years ago. Old Mrs. Keating was a great player.”
    *  *  *
    Some days the rain never lifted. It began as a dense drizzle in the mornings and cleared up for an hour or two in the afternoon before coming down again in heavy showers. He watched from the window for any sign of light over the sea, but the sky remained grey. They kept the fire lit and sat indoors reading.
    Carmel showed him a letter from Niamh to say that shewas living in their house now and wondering where all the plants had gone. She had been to see a gynaecologist, she said, and he told