WHEN THAT TIME COMES

CHAPTER FORTY

Their flight arrived at Gatwick early in the morning. They made it through customs in good time and found a cab to deliver them to the house they would be using. A motherly little woman met them at the door.

"Welcome to Ireland, Dr. Collins. I'm Katyrose and I'll be keeping house for you while you're here. Let me help you with those bags and show you and the young ladies your rooms." Katyrose efficiently took charge and had them sorted out quickly. "You must be starving by now," she said as she turned to go downstairs. "There's a bit of breakfast in the dining room if you're feeling up to it. Come down whenever you're ready." Meg and Betta looked at each other then broke into muffled giggles as the housekeeper went down the stairs.

"She's just like Rosina!" Meg whispered.

"If she is, we're not going to get away with anything!" Betta whispered back. "I'll bet you anything that the 'bit of breakfast' is a huge meal."

"No bets! I'd lose. I'll meet you down there."

* * *

Sean was already in the dining room when the girls arrived. Warming trays on the buffet held a dozen different breakfast offerings and Sean was tucking into them with enthusiasm.

"Well, my dears, we're here. What shall we do today?"

"Sleep?" Meg ventured knowing that it was out of the question.

"Sleep! You girls are young enough a little jet lag shouldn't slow you down. We need to be out exploring!"

"Maybe time for a little nap this afternoon?" Meg pleaded.

"Okay, a nap later. Eat now and we'll head out. Professor Wolf has left a whole pile of brochures and maps for us to use. I want to check on the conference hotel as well so I can find my way there in the morning."

* * *

True to his word, Sean took them sightseeing until late afternoon, returning them to the house in time for tea and the nap he'd promised Meg. He had told Katyrose not to make anything for dinner, as he wanted to take the girls to the local pub that evening.

"So, what do you wear to a pub?" Meg looked at Betta, stunning as usual in simple tailored slacks worn with a blouse of her own design. Meg had quit growing at five foot six but Betta was tall and willowy at five foot ten.

"How should I know?" Betta answered. "I'm Italian!"

"Something simple I guess. It's not like a fancy restaurant."

"What about that new skirt you brought and your blue sweater? It's just the color of your eyes. You can charm all the local guys."

"Me? You're the one with the glamorous job in Milan. Betta Morgan, fashion designer to the stars!"

"A lot you know! It's more like Betta Morgan, slave-girl."

They were interrupted by the sound of Sean calling up the stairs. "Are you girls coming this evening or not?"

"We're coming!" Betta called as Meg quickly slipped into the sweater and skirt. After running a brush through her short dark hair, she put on some lip-gloss and called it done.

The pub was busy when they arrived. Not a lot of strangers visited the little neighborhood pub and there were a lot of whispers and quick glances at the newcomers. Sean found a table for them and the barmaid arrived quickly.

"What can I get for you this evening?" she inquired. Sean ordered three pints of Guinness and asked what the dinner menu was.

"Dinner tonight is soup and roast beef sandwiches," she replied. "The soup is good and hearty."

"Sounds fine to me," Sean said as he looked at Meg and Betta for their opinion. They nodded their agreement. "We'll take three."

"Three 'tis. I'll be back with your pints in a few."

Meg tried to look around without being too obvious. They were so out of place here. Everyone knew everyone else. Her eyes caught those of the bartender, a young man near her own age with dark red hair and deep green eyes. He stared at her for a moment before turning back to building the pints Sean had ordered.

Meg lowered her eyes, her heart pounding. Was it really possible to have that strong a reaction to someone you'd never met? It certainly had never happened to her before. She stole another look at him when their pints arrived only to find him looking at her. He smiled slowly and gave her a wink before Meg quickly dropped her eyes again, intent on her study of the grain of the old wooden table.

"You'll be the Americans that are staying at the Professor's place," the barmaid said as she delivered their pints. It was more statement than a question and Sean confirmed she was right.

"He told us to be watching for you and Katyrose was in earlier today to say you'd arrived. I'm Maureen Kelly. Welcome to O'Hearn's."

"Thank you, Maureen. We're glad to be here. I'm Sean Collins and these are my granddaughters, Megan and Betta."

Meg raised her eyes from the table to say "hello" only to find the bartender standing beside Maureen.

"I'll add my welcome, too, Mr. Collins. I'm Jamie O'Hearn." His words were for Sean but his eyes never left Meg. "We hope we'll see more of you on your visit."

"You will, Jaime. But please call me Sean. These are my granddaughters Betta and"

"Megan" Jamie finished Sean's sentence. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Megan blushed as he made it clear that she was the one he was welcoming. Before she could catch her breath, he turned to her grandfather and said, "We're here most nights except Sunday. Friday is for music and we offer some of the best. You'll be joining us, I hope."

"I don't know that I can be here this weekI have a pesky conference to get out of the way. But I'm sure my girls will be glad to attend."

"And we'll be glad to have them," he said, his eyes returning to Meg's. "I'd best be getting back to work. Enjoy your meal." He turned away just as Maureen delivered their soup.

Betta leaned over to whisper to Meg, "Wow, Meg. On the first night you find the most gorgeous guy in the place. Nice work!"

Meg shook her head. "Don't be silly, Betta. He was just doing his job." At least she tried to believe that was true but her hands were trembling as she picked up her spoon to eat.

* * *

At closing, Maureen polished up the clean glasses and placed them in their rows behind the bar. "Nice lot, the Yanks, eh, Jamie?"

"Nice enough," Jamie replied as he wiped down the bar.

"They don't look much like sisters. The oneBetta? looked foreign. But the other Megan, was it? looks like the all-American girl." Maureen stopped what she was doing to look at Jamie when she said, "She certainly caught your eye."

Jamie continued to wipe down the bar, each swipe of the cloth taking him a little further from Maureen. "She was alright, I guess."

"Just alright?" Maureen said with a laugh. "She was a lot more than alright judging by the way you couldn't keep your eyes off her."

"What do you want me to say, Maureen? She was pretty? She wasvery pretty. And a rich Yank tourist who will be gone in a fortnight." He threw the cloth into the pile on the floor then picked the lot up, heading for the laundry basket in the back.

"A lot can happen in a fortnight, Jamie O'Hearn!" she called after him as she shut off the lights.

"Let's go, Maureen. It's been a long day."

Maureen smiled as she followed her cousin out the door. The girl had gotten under Jamie's skin. This was going to be interesting to watch.

* * *

Jamie saw Maureen safely to her car then got his bicycle and headed home. Maureen saw way too much for her own good, he thought. He'd be teased about that girl, that Megan, for a good long while.

She was prettymore than pretty, actually. A real beauty with that coal-black hair and eyes so blue you could practically swim in them. He'd heard her laugh with her grandda' and it was like listening to music.

He glanced up and realized he'd taken a different turn than usual, one that brought him past the professor's house. He stopped in the shadows across the street and looked up at the second floor windows. They were dark and he wondered which one was hers before he shook off the mood. Mooning after a tourist girl when he could have any of the local lasses with just the crook of his finger. She wasn't for him, Jamie thought as he pushed off again. But he couldn't help hoping she'd be in again tomorrow.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The girls spent the day sightseeing in Belfast. Mostly wandering with the help of a guidebook, they got lost more than once. But the people they spoke with were quick to help get them turned round again in the right direction. They managed to have lunch at the Crown Liquor Saloon, an 1880's Victorian wonder that was now owned by the National Trust. A tour bus took them past the busy harbor to see the site where the doomed Titanic had been built. They enjoyed poking into small shops and listening to the lilt of Irish voices all around.

By the time they made it home, they were footsore but happy. They ate the "wee bite" that Katyrose had left for them. After they ate and did up the dishes, Betta suggested another trip to O'Hearn's. "I'm sure Jamie will be hoping you'll stop by," Betta teased.

"Don't be silly, Betta. He was just being the good host."

Betta merely looked at her until Meg blushed. "Alright! So he was cute!"

"And interested in you!"

"Maybe. Fine, we'll go to the pub and I'll bet you ten that he ignores me."

"Good, I really would love to buy that woolen shawl I saw today. Ten dollars from you should make it just about reasonable for me."

* * *

The pub was more crowded than it had been the night before. They could hear the music that Jamie had mentioned as they made their way to the door. Slipping in, they stood back to watch and listen as a band played a lively melody that had a number of the crowd up on their feet dancing. The rhythm was infectious and it was impossible not to join the rest of the crowd who was clapping along.

Maureen spotted them by the door. "Fergus, you and Thomas move yourselves from these barstools. There's ladies standing by the door." As the two men got up, with good-natured grumbling, Maureen caught Betta's eye and waved them over.

"Welcome back," Maureen almost had to shout as the music came to an end and the bar erupted in cheers.

"Thanks," Betta said. "You weren't kidding about the music!"

"That one was a bit rowdy. It will get quieter now. Look, there's Jamie going to sing."

A plaintive fiddle began to play and the crowd quieted. Jamie, in a simple sweater and slacks, stepped forward with a tin whistle and played a tune that echoed and swooped around the fiddle's theme. After a moment, he began to sing. They didn't need to know the Irish to understand the song was about love and loss and longing. It was all there in Jamie's face and voice.

When the song ended, he took a quick bow and jumped lightly from the small stage and took his place again behind the bar, going immediately to Megan and Betta. "Sorry you had to hear my caterwauling right away. I thank you for not running away and staying to hear the good music to come."

"Nonsense, Jamie O'Hearn. You're fishing for compliments," Maureen chided him as he loaded her tray with drinks. "Quit your fishing and find out what these ladies need to drinksomething strong enough to counteract having to listen to you!"

"She's right. I'm not doing my job. What will it be tonight, ladies? May I build you a couple of pints?"

"Sorry, Jamie, it's white wine for me," Betta said and Meg nodded her agreement, tongue tied at the looks Jamie was giving her.

"Wine it is. But we'll get you converted to Guinness before you leave."

Megan and Betta watched the other patrons of the bar and got lost in the music. Soon the tiny bandviolin, accordion, and banjobegan another dance tune held together by the strong beat of the bodránthe traditional handheld drum so important to Irish music.

Suddenly Jamie was out from behind the bar and in front of Megan. "Dance with me, Megan!" he said as he reached out and lifted her from the barstool. He carried her out onto the floor despite her protests.

"Jamie! I can't do this! I don't know how!"

"Then we'll teach you!" Maureen was suddenly on the other side of her, one of the young men from the bar beside her. Betta was drawn out to the floor by another man and the band began their song again, a little slower this time as the two American girls began to try the traditional patterns as the rest of the patrons made a circle 'round them to watch.

Meg's mother, Annie, had been a dancer, good enough for Broadway and a teacher for many years. Her training and genes belonged to Meg who picked up the dance steps quickly. Betta and her partner dropped out as the music increased tempo, then Maureen drew her partner off the floor so that all eyes were on Jamie and Megan.

She forgot her embarrassment and began to enjoy herself. As the music got faster and faster, she could hear the crowd clapping round them. Jamie never missed a step and neither did she as the music swept her away. As it came to a close in a swirl of sound, Jamie lifted her easily from the floor and put her on his shoulder just as the music ceased.

Meg was laughing and telling Jamie to put her down when her grandfather came into the pub. As Jamie finally lowered her, slowly, and returned her to the barstool he'd stolen her from earlier, Sean Collins saw the look in his granddaughter's eyes, a look echoed in the eyes of the young man who held her. He could see the bright color in her cheeks, not just from the dancing but also from the wordless promises held in those looks. His Megan had fallen in love.