Crumbled Cheese
Lin walked pointedly away from Roary. Keeping her head down, she wound her way over to the curb and onto the narrow sidewalk. Fiona strode over and took her arm as casually as possible, leaving the confused man to follow in their wake. He could not make heads nor tails of what had happened in the car and was truly confounded by the sharpness of Lin's flickered gaze at him. "Women, especially the women in this family," he thought, "are definitely a breed apart."
Fiona made for a small but smart looking restaurant not far from the car, but Lin pulled up short and forced her to continue walking. In the end, they made almost a full circuit of the tiny square before she finally settled on a beat-up looking pub that smelled heavily of the prior evening's festivities. It was definitely not a place that either Fiona or Roary would have chosen. It was dimly lit and the scent of mutton and beer was strong enough to make it seem rather medieval in character. In fact, if it had not been for the dartboards lining the back wall, one might have expected to find straw on the floor and nothing but stew, brown bread and cheese on the menu. A glance around proved that the place was popular with the locals, the bar was full and many of the tables taken. Lin wandered in, not seeming to be phased a bit by the scents or the sounds, and settled in a table near the rear corner facing the door.
Roary pulled out a chair for Fiona and she smiled at the small gesture. It seemed quite out of place in this particular place. She patted him on the hand as he slid her chair neatly in under her. Apparently, there was peace between them for a moment or two at least. He swung round the table and took his seat facing the bar, noticing that the barkeep was keeping a steady eye on them as he wiped down the glasses he was racking. He gave him a nod in acknowledgment of the gaze and the barkeep turned to pour a pint. The waitress came by and gave them a lilting recitation of the day's luncheon menu. She had barely paused when Lin ordered the lamb stew with cheese and brown bread. "Perhaps she really had followed her nose into this hole of a pub," was all that passed through his mind as he placed an order for a beef sandwich with colcannon. Fiona followed Lin's menu and they all ordered a Guinness; it seemed the easiest way to catch up with the smell of the place, just drink it in.
They sat in silence until the stout came, the rich creamy foam lining the edge of the glass suddenly making them all realize they were actually hungry. Fiona laughed, "I wonder if it's true what they say back home? Is this really like a pork chop in a glass?" Lin gave a small chuckle, a laugh that was half there and half missing.
Roary looked on in bewilderment. "What would they mean by that?"
"I truly don't know. Perhaps they mean it makes you full, or perhaps they mean it's enough in itself to make you fat just drinking it."
"I don't know about that," he replied, "I think it actually has less calories than some beers. It certainly tastes better. An' I'm for believin' that there are a few who have made it their supper now an' again."
They sipped at the stout a bit more. Finally, when the silence was stretched as thin as crepe paper, Roary blurted out, "What was all the bawlin' about back there in the car?" It was not his finest moment of subtlety.
Both Lin and Fiona stared at him completely taken aback. They could not quite believe he had just jumped right in with both feet, splashing around in the muck like that. But there it was, right out in the middle of the lunch table, and no way to take it back.
Lin was cautious in her reply, "I had a bit of dream and a bit of a nightmare. It just shook me up. I don't remember when the last time was that I saw a man killed in my dreams."
Roary nearly spit out the stout that was floating around his tongue on the way toward a satisfied swallow. "Ye' saw a man die in your dream? How?"
"He was gored by a wild boar."
"Well now, that's an original piece of work, that is."
"Not really, it's part of a very old legend. I just seem to have dreamt myself right into the middle of it. And the amazing part is my dog was there too. You remember Grainne, don't you Mum?"
Fiona smiled. Yes, she remembered the high-spirited if somewhat less than genius Irish setter. She had been a blessing as a pet, lovely and loyal, and a good judge of poetry. She missed her greatly. "Yes, I remember how she used to eat my cookies, and how you talked her into turning her nose up at the liver I cooked."
"Well, you have to admit the dog had taste," smiled Lin.
The two women went into a burst of uncontrolled laughter. Roary was having a very hard time keeping up with the rollercoaster of emotions that Lin was spinning through. Luckily, the food arrived and they settled down to eat. Lin gave them a brief perspective on the dream, ending with her attempt to warn Diarmuid from her changeling state. Fiona patted her hand as if to remind her it was just a dream and continued to mop up the stew juices with a bit of bread and cheese.
"I think we should get some of this bread and cheese to take with us, " Fiona remarked. She made no reference to the dream at all. It was as if, in getting Lin to tell it, it had been released and was no more.
For her part, Lin seemed to be much relieved as well. "Women are definitely odd," concluded Roary as he slid from the table and over to the bar to pay the tab.
The barkeep came over and gave him another long look. He took his money and made the change. When he was handing the coins back to Roary, he caught his hand and held it so that Roary was forced to look him in the eye. "I couldna' help but overhear yon' lass's tale. Isna' a good thing to dream that dream, ya' ken? Best no' repeat that where others can hear it again, or the lass will likely not be treated kindly. I canna' explain more 'cept to say people don't care too much for those that have truck with the sidhe in these parts and that dream comes a mite too close to their door."
"But 'twas just a dream, sure'n that's not a problem?"
"Have ye' ever had a changeling dream? Or dreamt hard enough to make ye' cry like that when it wasna' even about your own?" asked the man.
"I'm after seeing yer point. I'll do my best to help her keep it tight to her chest. And thank ye' for the advice," Roary left a bit extra in tip on the bar and made his way back to the ladies. He gestured for them to come along. Not liking to be hurried, Fiona took an infuriatingly long time to tidy her space and finish her pint. Finally she rose and made her way majestically out the door. Roary breathed a sigh of relief, until he realized that Lin was not there with them.
He went back into the pub, but she was not there either. The barkeep wagged his thumb over his shoulder and pointed in the direction of the kitchen. And that is where he found her, cutting bread and cheeses with the serving girls and giggling. He could have sworn he heard her speak a word or two of Gaelic before he came in, but that simply wasn't possible as he knew she did not know the language. She wrapped up her parcels and paid the girl at the table for them. Then she raised her head and noticed him for the first time. She smiled and came to him. "Bread and cheese, I almost forgot we wanted these," her smile still glowing.
He would never, ever, figure this pair of women out, that much was certain, thought Roary, as he followed Lin out of the pub and into the bright light of the afternoon sun.
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