Free Breakfast at Darcy's by Ali McNamara Page A

gives me a little nudge with his elbow.
    ‘Sorry, Dermot,’ I apologise. ‘I don’t think I’m really cut out for the technical side of things, as you so rightly pointed
     out a few minutes ago.’
    Dermot nods in agreement. ‘Yes, indeed. Look, perhaps you’d best just go and pay your last respects before it’s time to head
     back.’ He gestures to the backpack on my shoulders, which contains the urn. ‘Will you be all right on your own, or do you
     want one of us to come with you?’
    ‘That’s kind of you, but I’ll be fine, thanks. You stay here with Niall; he’ll be much better at answering your questions
     than me.’
    Because of the weather, we’ve stayed mostly inland on our walking tour of the island, but now as I leave Niall and Dermot
     and walk further out towards the headland I see that, inexplicably, Conor was right. The sun has now escaped from its cloudy
     prison and shines brightly down onto the grass and rocks around me, warming not only the colours of the landscape, but my
     feelings towards it too. Breathing in the fresh sea air, which I have to admit does make quite a nice change from the heavy
     pollution of the city, I pick up a narrow coastal path that weaves its way along the edge of Glentara Island.
    Now what was it Conor had said the locals called it? Ah yes, just Tara
.
    After a while, I pause briefly to take a look out over the clear unobscured view that the sun is now allowing me. From thisside of the island I can no longer see the mainland, or any other land for that matter. Only a vast, never-ending sea constantly
     rolling its huge waves in towards Tara’s giant craggy rock faces, which then in turn buffet them right back out to sea again,
     like a rhythmical game of wet tennis. The crowd is made up of a flock of noisy gulls who hover above, waiting for a stray
     ball, or more likely fish, to be thrown up out of the waves.
    I turn around to take another look at the island behind me. We’ve managed to explore enough of it this morning even for me
     to recognise that although the island may seem lonely and abandoned at first sight, it’s exceptionally beautiful too. But
     to live here for a whole year … now that is another thing entirely. I know from what Niall’s explained to me that Molly’s
     provided a generous budget to set the island up with decent housing and basic amenities; I haven’t exactly got to camp in
     a tent and cook over an open fire while I’m here, and even if I don’t last a whole year on the island I’m not obliged to pay
     any of that initial money back to the estate. But I’m so used to living in a city where there are people and mobile phones
     and the internet. In London, everything is right on your doorstep when you want it. What will I do when I want to pop out
     for a manicure, or a Krispy Kreme doughnut?
    I shake my head. No, this is not the time for that now. I’ve got more important things to attend to. Turning back to face
     out to sea again, I shrug my Nike rucksack loose from my shoulders and carefully unzip the main compartment. Then gently I
     remove the little wooden casket that I have been carrying with me since we left the mainland.
    When Niall said he had my aunt’s ashes in his office with him, I’d imagined a huge black urn sitting on his desk like yousee in the movies. But when he’d presented it to me today, it was just a plain wooden box. Apparently it was my aunt’s request;
     she wanted something that would simply biodegrade back into the natural habitat, and the wood that was used to make the box
     had to be from a sustainable forest.
    ‘You certainly knew just what you wanted, Aunt Molly,’ I say out loud, the words barely out of my mouth before they’re whisked
     away by the wind and immediately carried out to sea. ‘And not just about this, either.’
    ‘That she certainly did,’ I hear a voice reply. The shock of which almost makes me follow my words down the cliff and into
     the sea below.
    ‘Whoa, steady