greenery.
While Gabriel and Aradhana were unloading the car, Dana ran to find a place for their picnic. She had almost reached the waterfall when she spotted a familiar figure. There by the pool stood Murta, staring upward toward the top of the ridge. With a shudder Dana recognized the look on his face, the same rage he had shown when the music sounded in the glen. She was backing away so he wouldn’t see her, but then Gabriel called out to him. Murta’s face shifted into a friendly mask.
Gabriel joined him, introducing Aradhana and waving Dana over.
Murta clutched his cell phone in his hand like a weapon. His eyes swept over the two females. Dana flinched, noting that Aradhana did the same.
“Off duty today?” Gabriel asked him.
“I’m supposed to meet a contact here.” Murta lowered his voice, implying a secret. Gabriel moved closer to hear, but the other two didn’t. “One of An Taisce ’s people. She can’t be seen to support us.” He shrugged. “Cloak-and-dagger stuff. She must’ve got waylaid. I’d better head back.”
It was obvious he didn’t want to linger.
“I won’t keep you,” Gabriel said quickly. “Tell Big Bob I’ve booked the Enniskerry community center for the concert. The North Wicklow Set-dancers will be part of the lineup.”
Though Gabriel was evidently pleased with his own news, Murta nodded indifferently.
“I’ll give him the message.”
Dana was more than relieved to see him go, and led her father and Aradhana to the spot she had chosen.
“This is a most perfect place,” Aradhana said as they rolled out the blanket and unpacked the picnic. “Listen to the birds singing! It is very beautiful.”
“You can hear the nightjar at dusk on a summer evening,” Gabriel told her.
“Really? What sound does it make?”
“Haven’t a clue,” he admitted. “I read it in the brochure at the gate.”
They laughed.
Dana frowned. They were doing a lot of laughing.
“Let’s paddle!” she suggested, catching Aradhana’s hand.
It was a warm sunny day. They kicked off their sandals and climbed over the huge stones that cradled the pool. The water was the color of amber and icy cold. The spray from the falls cooled their faces. The dark wet cliff was rimed with green moss and filmy fern. Kestrels preened their feathers on the highest ledges.
Aradhana had rolled up her trousers to the knee. Her clothes were of a soft loose-flowing cotton, beige and cream. A burnt-orange scarf draped her shoulders. Her jet-black hair gleamed in the sunshine, strands curling around her face. Eyeing her surreptitiously, Dana felt scruffy in her cutoff shorts and faded T-shirt.
“What do you think of that creepy guy?” she said suddenly.
Aradhana looked uncomfortable.
“It would not be right of me to speak badly of your father’s friends.”
“He’s not a friend,” Dana stated. “Just someone we know.” But she was satisfied. It was clear that Aradhana didn’t like him either.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Aradhana spoke carefully, but her eyes were filled with concern.
“Nah. I just don’t like him.”
They circled each other in the sunlit water. Dana picked some wood sorrel from a cleft in the rock and offered it to the young woman.
“Gabe calls it ‘chip chop cherry.’ Tastes like cherry-flavored gum.”
Aradhana chewed it thoughtfully.
“Tart but tasty. I will try it in a salad, perhaps also a sauce.” She smiled at Dana. “I shall miss my Irish Barbie.”
“I don’t want to go to Canada. It’s not fair that Dad gets to make all the decisions.”
“It is unfair,” the other agreed. “But once you grow up, you will be in charge of your own life and it will all be up to you.”
“Roll on that day,” Dana said with a sigh.
She sat down on the rocks and kicked her feet in the water.
“We are alike, you know,” Aradhana said, sitting down beside her. “I was reared by my father also. There was only Suresh and me. Our mother died when
While Gabriel and Aradhana were unloading the car, Dana ran to find a place for their picnic. She had almost reached the waterfall when she spotted a familiar figure. There by the pool stood Murta, staring upward toward the top of the ridge. With a shudder Dana recognized the look on his face, the same rage he had shown when the music sounded in the glen. She was backing away so he wouldn’t see her, but then Gabriel called out to him. Murta’s face shifted into a friendly mask.
Gabriel joined him, introducing Aradhana and waving Dana over.
Murta clutched his cell phone in his hand like a weapon. His eyes swept over the two females. Dana flinched, noting that Aradhana did the same.
“Off duty today?” Gabriel asked him.
“I’m supposed to meet a contact here.” Murta lowered his voice, implying a secret. Gabriel moved closer to hear, but the other two didn’t. “One of An Taisce ’s people. She can’t be seen to support us.” He shrugged. “Cloak-and-dagger stuff. She must’ve got waylaid. I’d better head back.”
It was obvious he didn’t want to linger.
“I won’t keep you,” Gabriel said quickly. “Tell Big Bob I’ve booked the Enniskerry community center for the concert. The North Wicklow Set-dancers will be part of the lineup.”
Though Gabriel was evidently pleased with his own news, Murta nodded indifferently.
“I’ll give him the message.”
Dana was more than relieved to see him go, and led her father and Aradhana to the spot she had chosen.
“This is a most perfect place,” Aradhana said as they rolled out the blanket and unpacked the picnic. “Listen to the birds singing! It is very beautiful.”
“You can hear the nightjar at dusk on a summer evening,” Gabriel told her.
“Really? What sound does it make?”
“Haven’t a clue,” he admitted. “I read it in the brochure at the gate.”
They laughed.
Dana frowned. They were doing a lot of laughing.
“Let’s paddle!” she suggested, catching Aradhana’s hand.
It was a warm sunny day. They kicked off their sandals and climbed over the huge stones that cradled the pool. The water was the color of amber and icy cold. The spray from the falls cooled their faces. The dark wet cliff was rimed with green moss and filmy fern. Kestrels preened their feathers on the highest ledges.
Aradhana had rolled up her trousers to the knee. Her clothes were of a soft loose-flowing cotton, beige and cream. A burnt-orange scarf draped her shoulders. Her jet-black hair gleamed in the sunshine, strands curling around her face. Eyeing her surreptitiously, Dana felt scruffy in her cutoff shorts and faded T-shirt.
“What do you think of that creepy guy?” she said suddenly.
Aradhana looked uncomfortable.
“It would not be right of me to speak badly of your father’s friends.”
“He’s not a friend,” Dana stated. “Just someone we know.” But she was satisfied. It was clear that Aradhana didn’t like him either.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Aradhana spoke carefully, but her eyes were filled with concern.
“Nah. I just don’t like him.”
They circled each other in the sunlit water. Dana picked some wood sorrel from a cleft in the rock and offered it to the young woman.
“Gabe calls it ‘chip chop cherry.’ Tastes like cherry-flavored gum.”
Aradhana chewed it thoughtfully.
“Tart but tasty. I will try it in a salad, perhaps also a sauce.” She smiled at Dana. “I shall miss my Irish Barbie.”
“I don’t want to go to Canada. It’s not fair that Dad gets to make all the decisions.”
“It is unfair,” the other agreed. “But once you grow up, you will be in charge of your own life and it will all be up to you.”
“Roll on that day,” Dana said with a sigh.
She sat down on the rocks and kicked her feet in the water.
“We are alike, you know,” Aradhana said, sitting down beside her. “I was reared by my father also. There was only Suresh and me. Our mother died when
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