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  As I am rounding the bend, reaching the point where I daren’t look, I see him there, putting the clamp back down on the gate, closing it. His eyes are down, and he seems to be looking at his hands, at what he is doing. My feet batter on along the rough gravel, along the strip of tatty grass in the middle of our lane. There is only one thing I care about now, and my feet are carrying me there. As soon as he sees me he stops and grows still. I do not hesitate but keep on running towards him and by the time I reach him the gate is open and I am smack against him and lifted into his arms. For a long stretch, he holds me tight. I feel the thumping of my heart, my breaths coming out then my heart and my breaths settling differently. At a point, which feels much later, a sudden gust blows through the trees and shakes big, fat raindrops over us. My eyes are closed and I can feel him, the heat of him coming through his good clothes. When I finally open my eyes and look over his shoulder, it is my father I see, coming along strong and steady, his walking stick in his hand. I hold on as though I’ll drown if I let go, and listen to the woman who seems, in her throat, to be taking it in turns, sobbing and crying, as though she is crying not for one now, but for two. I daren’t keep my eyes open and yet I do, staring up the lane, past Kinsella’s shoulder, seeing what he can’t. If some part of me wants with all my heart to get down and tell the woman who has minded me so well that I will never, ever tell, something deeper keeps me there in Kinsella’s arms, holding on.

  ‘Daddy,’ I keep calling him, keep warning him. ‘Daddy.’

  Acknowledgements

  The author would like to thank Richard Ford for all his kindness; Declan Meade of The Stinging Fly, and Redmond Doran of Davy Byrne’s pub who sponsored the award.

  About the Author

  Claire Keegan was born in 1968 and grew up on a farm in Wicklow. Her first collection of stories, Antarctica, was completed in 1999. It announced her as an exceptionally gifted and versatile writer of contemporary fiction, was an LA Times Book of the Year and was awarded the Rooney Prize for Literature. Her second collection, Walk the Blue Fields, was published to enormous critical acclaim in 2007 and won her the 2008 Edge Hill Prize for Short Stories, awarded for the finest book of stories in the British Isles. Claire Keegan lives in rural Ireland.

  By the Same Author

  ANTARCTICA

  WALK THE BLUE FIELDS

  Copyright

  First published in 2010

  by Faber and Faber Ltd

  Bloomsbury House

  74–77 Great Russell Street

  London WC1B 3DA

  This ebook edition first published in 2010

  All rights reserved

  © Claire Keegan, 2010

  The right of Claire Keegan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  ISBN 978–0–571–25566–5