Katie’s father lived in Monkstown, on the west side of Cork harbour, in a tall green Victorian house that overlooked the half-mile stretch of water that separated Monkstown from Cobh, where Katie lived. On a clear day she could glimpse her own front wall behind the dark row of elm trees that lined the opposite shore, but this evening it had started to rain again, hard, and she could barely see the ferry that plied its way from one side of the inlet to the other. Through the sheets of spray, she thought that it looked like a ghost of all the ships that had left Cobh on other rainy evenings, carrying emigrants who would never come back to Ireland, ever. She didn’t know why she thought that. Maybe she was just feeling tired and sentimental and upset about John. She made her way around John’s Toyota and up the steps to the front door. She had her own key, of course, in case of emergencies, but her father always liked to answer the doorbell himself. She waited, while the rainwater clattered from the broken guttering over the porch.
What do You think about Broken Angels (Katie Maguire)?
