It’s Melbourne Cup Day 2014, so here’s a moment from Chapter 15, when Lucy visits Pim’s Aunt Rose in Moss Vale.
Horse market in Ballinasloe, Co. Galway
(Public domain)
Pim wanted to know all about Ireland. So I began to tell her bits and pieces about the little four-roomed cottage where we lived, about the Claddagh and the fishing boats, about the wild, grey Atlantic and the farms and fields with their crumbly stone walls and the remains of homes that fell to ruin after the Hunger.
‘So how do the horses fit in?’ asked Pim.
‘They’ve been part of my Da’s family since olden times. My Daid’s da managed the stables on one of the estates and his daid did that before him. My Uncail Eachann trains horses, you know, and so does his son. That’s my cousin Liam who’s a fair bit older than myself.’
‘Racehorses?’
‘Aye. All my Daid’s family had something to do with them: Uncail Eachann trained them, Uncail Breandán shoed them, Uncail Ciarán rode them, Daid drew them and, well, Uncail Ruaidhrí drank their health.’