Free Aisling Gayle by Geraldine O'Neill

and saucer round in a circle. “Jean is my mother’s sister.”
    “I see,” he said, a broad smiling coming over his face. He reached out now, and took her hand in his. “Well, Aisling Gayle – I sincerely hope you don’t run into any more maniacs during the rest of your stay in America.”
    “I think I might stay put out at Lake Savannah for the rest of the holiday,” she said, catching his eye and laughing now. “I’d rather take my chances with the bears than go through the experience I had today again.”
    It was funny, she suddenly thought, how she now felt comfortable and relaxed with this man – the man who earlier on had made her feel so clumsy and silly. As she looked at him now, she could see that all the hostility and distrust had vanished from his eyes. Just as the fear and embarrassment must have vanished from her own.
    They ordered more coffee, and sat chatting for a little longer, Aisling telling him all about the part of Ireland she came from and her work in the school, and Jameson telling her about Lake Savannah. He made no mention of a wife, alive or dead, and Aisling avoided the subject.
    When it was time to go, he asked her if she’d like to go back to the Town Bookstore with him and Thomas. “It’s just that – I’m sure he’s gone – but I wouldn’t like you to bump into him again when you’re alone.”
    “I’d be happy to go to the bookshop,” Aisling said. “And I’d be happier being with you two, than wandering about on my own.”
    “This –” Thomas said, motioning to the empty mugs and plates, “is my treat!” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, and took out his wallet.
    “No, no,” Aisling protested, lifting her bag.
    “Let him,” Jameson said, as Thomas made for the counter. “I’ve taught him to cope socially, and he needs to know how to do these things. Besides, he doesn’t spend much on himself and he enjoys paying for little things like this.”
    “Okay,” Aisling agreed, “but really it should be me paying – to thank you for all you’ve done.”
    “After my initial rudeness, let’s call it quits,” he said, laughing. He got to his feet now, lifting Aisling’s bags. “Look, I’ll just check Thomas is managing the money okay. Sometimes he mixes up the notes. We’ll catch you at the door.”
    Aisling walked outside into the warm sunshine, once again relaxed and happy to be having a holiday in America. Then, she heard a voice calling her name.
    “So this is where you’ve got to,” her mother called jovially from across the street. “We were getting worried – thinking that a strange man might have run off with you!”
    Aisling turned towards them with a big smile. “You don’t know how close you are to the truth, Mother!” she said laughing.
    “Why? Did something happen to you?” Maggie demanded, as the others gathered around.
    Aisling then related the story of the man in the purple and yellow shirt, and how Jean’s neighbours had come to her rescue.
    “Oh, my God!” Jean had exclaimed. “We’re not going to let you out of our sight for the rest of the holiday.”
    “I only wish it was me who had met him,” Maggie said, “I’d have soon sorted him out.”
    Declan came to put a protective arm around his daughter. “Are you all right, Aisling – did he do you any harm?”
    “No, Daddy,” she reassured him, “I’m grand . . . honestly.”
    Jean suddenly let a whoop of delight out as Thomas and Jameson Carroll came out of the restaurant door now. “Here come the heroes!” she said, rushing over to put her arms around Thomas.
    Declan stepped forward to shake Jameson’s hand. “I thank you heartily for looking after my daughter. Both you and your son,” he said. “In a strange country anything could have happened to her.”
    Jameson gave an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, sir – and I can assure you that most of the guys over here are pretty harmless. Isn’t that right, Bruce?”
    “It sure is,” Bruce