She kept getting flashbacks to her years in America and these made her anxious. That was why Eamonn spent hours of the night assuring her that everything would be well for her and her children. On the third morning, Eamonn said he intended joining our beach party that day. At about eleven, he appeared in slacks and an open-necked shirt. Surrounded by people who loved him, he was in his element. Maureen was in a thin cotton dress. Helena was in a black one-piece swimsuit. I had not brought a bathing suit to Ireland but the night before I had fished out a bikini top and a pair of jeans, the legs of which I had scissored off to the thighs. My husband had made such fun of my legs I was scared to show them in public. Eamonn whispered, “Why are you wearing those?” but I did not want to talk about it. As soon as we reached the near-deserted beach, he stripped to his swimming trunks, white with blue stripes.
