*~*~*~ the Last Rains of Summer ~*~*~* a Romance Novel, Love Story & Epic Drama Adventure written by: Sean Terrence Best *~ Dedicated to Abagail ~* Chapter One *~ A Wedding ~* Alone in the backroom of the Friendly Flower Shoppe, the professional florist Shelley Halifax worked her maiden magic on the Bridal Bouquet. She circled many times around the pink Bartsias & the smaller Blue~Bells like a priestess performing a ritual. Arranging Wild Yellow Daisies and Red Valerian all around the edges, she then added one bright orange Montbretia in the very center. With an expression of triumph upon her youthful face, she stood back to admire her crafty creation. Clasping her hands together and holding them tightly under her chin, she whispered, "Brightest Blessings for the Bride and Groom." Youghal, Ireland can be found in County Cork on the eastern shore of that distant green isle. A popular tourist destination nowadays. I could tell you a story about a young woman named Shelley Halifax. She worked as a florist in a little flower~shop during a simpler time when the flow of daily life was easy like a pastel palette, but when love of the romantic heart was as passionate and as explosive and as eternal as in any other time. Yes, I can tell you about Shelley Halifax and her little drama which happened in the little lives of some little people in a little place just south of Youghal called Valeria. Valeria, a picturesque little township so named for the Red Valerian which grew 'round its cottages and high on its sea~cliffs overlooking the violet Celtic Sea. It is rumored that Red Valerian was first brought to Ireland during early Medieval times by the Roman Legions who, at the behest of famous Emperors such as Hadrian, marched & sailed ever westward seeking to further expand the growing boundaries of the Holy Roman Empire. Valeria, the quaint little seaside community in which our story takes place, was a memorable and cheerful spot where many a weary soul found refuge from the storms of life. Oh, you won't find it on any map. With all the technological progress, time itself has marched on and forgotten Valeria. In hushed tones in the shadowed corners of pubs late at night, it is often said that beautiful Valeria went the way of Atlantis or some of those sea~faring souls which have mysteriously disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle. One such story recounts how pretty Valeria was so loved by the Leprechauns and Faerie Folk that they magically transported the unsuspecting town from this world into their Mystical Realm beyond the Veil. According to this eerie Yarn, on a moonless night in late October, an unusually dense fog moved in from the Celtic Sea and enshrouded Valeria in the pale blue aura of a glowing mist. When the fog moved back out to sea just before dawn, pleasant Valeria was gone and in it's stead, a small inlet which to this very day hasn't been named. During the late quarter of the 19th century, however, Valeria was a thriving and happy little township complete with all the Victorian trappings befitting such a dreamy locale in such a theatrical era. For starters, Valeria was equipped with an historic town hall & civic building which had been constructed during the Middle Ages as an Abbey by the Benedictine Order of Monks. An Anglican Chapel, built mostly of yew wood, served as religious center and primary school for Valeria. It was perched on a green, grassy knoll at the edge of town and each summer, when the tourists began their holiday visits, Valeria Primary School hosted a series of arts'n'crafts classes. The most popular of which was a course on pottery~making taught by the school's headmistress, Miss Lavender. Her real name was McBaine, but to her, Miss Lavender sounded more artistic. She had visited the desert southwest in the United States during her days at University when she served as assistant to the Professor of Archaeological Studies. The Navajo of the region known as the Painted Desert had been very cordial to Miss Lavender. They accepted her as a ceremonial member of their Tribe and gave her the Navajo name, Ah~Tad Le~Eh~Gade Tacheene, which means "girl who likes to put her hands in red soil". They placed her in a sweat~house, burned cedar and wafted the smoke over her with an eagle feather. During her field research, Miss Lavender had made many exciting artistic discoveries among the mesas, canyons and cacti. The Navajo people taught her much about their ancestral pottery~making methods which, of course, accounted for the popularity of her pottery workshop during summers at Valeria Primary School. Miss Lavender told many humorous anecdotes of her adventures, and she related tales of Navajo Mysticism, Legends and Lore. The main point of interest and tourist destination in Valeria Township, however, was not the Primary School, but the hotel resort for which Valeria's fame had spread throughout the length and breadth of Ireland and a place or two in foreign lands. Shell House was a sleepy little coastal resort with just 21 guest rooms of modest and antiquarian decor. Shell House also had one Bridal Suite & one Bungalow, each opulently outfitted for any rich patrons who could afford the finest luxuries of the day. The proprietors of Shell House were Mr. & Mrs. Nolan. A charming Irish country couple whose pedigree included Sir Edmund Raleigh. Living the life of a humble country squire, Sir Edmund was believed to be a sometime confidant of Sir Walter Long who was a friend to Sir Walter Raleigh, who sold his lands to Richard Boyle, the 1st Earl of Cork who was also 1st Baron Boyle of Youghal and Lord High Treasurer of the Kingdom of Ireland during the reign of Queen Elizabeth the First in the late 1500's. Mr. and Mrs. Nolan were, in addition to being brilliant conversationalists, cute, cuddly and elderly so that over the years they cultivated a loyal clientele, many of whom were regulars at Shell House every summer. |
As our story begins, it is quite a day for Shell House. For not only is it the first day of the summer tourist season, but a wedding day as well. Aidan, the son of the butcher is marrying Karen, the daughter of the baker. All we need now is a Candle Stick Maker, right ? Well, good news, there's one in this story. In fact, there are two. As you can imagine, neither the catering nor the wedding cake would be anything less than the very best the good folk of Valeria had to offer. The wedding ceremony was to be held in the Anglican Chapel and Shell House would host the reception and the happy newly weds would occupy the Bridal Suite for the entire first seven days of summer. The Shell House Bridal Suite had been reserved a year ago for this very special occasion. The hustle and bustle were energizing. Activity of every sort was afoot. Miss Lavender had made 99 hand size wedding bells out of white paper and was busy hanging them about the hotel entrance and lobby. The baker was struggling to find a safe hiding place in the kitchen for the beautiful 7 tier wedding cake. The butcher and the hotel chef, Fabian, were in a mad dash to see who could prepare the finest meat entree. Summer guests who had come from Longford by train to the Youghal Station were being wheeled up in an Irish jaunting cart and even old man Wemple had emerged from his hiding place among the cliff caves to get a glimpse of the celebration and commencement of festivities. "Where's Gillan!?" Mrs. Nolan shouted. "He was supposed to be back with the extra tablecloths by now!" "He's coming around the back, Mrs. Nolan." Shelley replied as she walked into the banquet hall with another beautiful flower arrangement. "Only three more of these and I can run home to change into my fancy dress! I'll just have time to make it to the Chapel and be seated before the Bride walks down the aisle!" Mrs. Nolan looked pleadingly at Shelley Halifax and made a request which she knew wouldn't please her, "Oh, Shelley, would you be a dear and help take the rest of the lily bouquets to the guest rooms? And convey the special flower arrangements to the Bridal Suite and the Bungalow as well? Mr. Lynch will be arriving this afternoon and I want everything to be perfect for all our guests, especially for the Bride and Groom and especially for Mr. Lynch." Mr. Liam Lynch was the thirty~one year old son of a wealthy banker. As was customary for the wealthy classes, he was educated at private schools during his childhood but then, rather than go straight to University, Liam Lynch spent his early twenties traveling the world. He was now preparing for his last year of formal education at Cambridge following this summer. After that he was sure to take over his aging father's position as senior officer of the Lynch Merchant's Bank, headquartered in Dublin. "Where's Dolores?" Shelley asked with a bit of disappointment in her voice. "She's not feeling well again. I sent her to Doc Kirwan. She put up her usual quiet objectionable resistance, of course, but I bade Gillan to see her to the good doctor's and then return quickly with the extra tablecloths we need from your Grandmother." |
Shelley Halifax and her Grandmother, Grandmother Halifax, lived together in a small two room cottage behind the Friendly Flower Shoppe. Grandmother Halifax had a goose down feather bed in one corner of the larger room of their quaint little cottage, and this is where she slept at night. Shelley's bed was in a loft above, for the roof of their cottage was rather high and inclined like most other cottages in Valeria. Shelley's mother and father had been lost at sea while on return voyage from London during the winter of 1863. After setting sail with the night tide from Bristol, the vessel a schooner named The Lady Gale was never seen again. It was conjectured that an unexpected winter storm had been the cause of the mysterious disappearance of the Lady Gale. Sometime later a section of rigging bearing the insignia of The Lady Gale had been spotted and picked up by a merchant seaman making way for the Portuguese Coast. Shelley Halifax was only 2 when the tragedy occurred, so Grandmother Halifax was the only family she had ever known. Grandfather Halifax died the year before Shelley's birth. He was a skilled carpenter and converted a shed beside their cottage into a sewing room for Grandmother Halifax just a few months prior to his death. Grandfather Halifax left Grandmother with a stipends on which she lived contentedly, but now and again she wanted to buy a little something extra for Shelley and her sewing skills were her means of doing so. It gave her something to busy herself with, besides. Yes, Grandmother Halifax loved Shelley very much and Shelley requited her dear Grandmother's love in every filial respect. Shelley Halifax was forever running in and out of the back door of the Friendly Flower Shoppe during her childhood and apprenticed with Lilian Rowan, the flower~shop owner, during the happy Valerian summers. During that time Lilian met and married a tourist named Feidhelm Rowan; everyone called him Feid for short. His family's home had been in Youghal, but they immigrated to New York because his father had been offered a job over seeing the day to day operations of a textile mill. Feid's mother was happy in New York because of the increase in income. Feid's brothers and sisters had all gotten jobs of one sort or another and married and settled into the Big City quite well. Feid, however, was always homesick for Ireland and vacationed each summer at Shell House. The Friendly Flower Shoppe provides flowers daily for the guest rooms at Shell House during the summer tourist season, so this made it inevitable that Lilian and Feid would encounter each other. After a number of such encounters during such summers Feid asked Lilian to marry him and she gladly accepted. They had since had three girls. Imogen, the oldest at 15, Eileen shortly after her at 13 and the youngest Rowan daughter, Aislinn, was just 6 years old. Aislinn loved the fact that her name means dream and she was constantly reminding everyone in Valeria of her name's meaning and of just how much it meant to her. Shelley Halifax helped look after the Rowan girls and was just as another member of the family. Kind of like a second mother to Imogen, Eileen and Aislinn since Shelley herself was only seven years younger than Lilian. During autumn, winter and spring, the Friendly Flower Shoppe shipped lovely flower arrangements and bouquets to all parts of Ireland, especially the capital, Dublin and even by steamship to London on occasion. This meant that the Friendly Flower Shoppe was always busy, especially so during summers with the steady flow of guests at Shell House. It was during these busy summers that Lilian and Feid needed, along with Shelley, some additional assistance at the Friendly Flower Shoppe, which is where Sean Quinn emerges into our story. Sean Quinn was the youngest son in a very large family which lived on a potato farm a few miles inland from Valeria. Sean's family also herded sheep and even grew strawberries to have as a pleasant treat in season. This was a novelty for the local area residents because during that time, Ireland's strawberries were almost entirely imported from England and Holland. Sean, at the tender age of 24, didn't fancy the farm life other than as a ready subject for his drawings and paintings. A reclusive and soft spoken young man, Sean did his share of work to help out around the farm, but he had big dreams of becoming a world famous painter someday. Sean Quinn loved art. Sean loved to draw and he loved to paint all that he saw in the big bright beautiful world around him. Sean loved drawing and painting portraits of people most of all. Portraiture was the endeavor which mystically called to him more than any other facet of life. To Sean, it was magic to start with a blank space and scrub and scribble and erase, then scrub and scribble again until a very real likeness of a human being appeared on the sketch paper or canvas before him. Sean, though self taught, was dramatically skilled at portraiture. Many assured Sean and repeated as much among themselves that he would indeed become a very successful and world famous painter. This encouragement was music to Sean's ears and he carried on in vigorous pursuit of his daring dream. Yes, painting, especially portraiture, was magic to Sean. Sean was a Sorcerer. His charcoal and brushes, his magic wands. Drawing and painting portraits, his magic. Naturally, an artist would also be drawn to flowers. Sean Quinn, in order to escape what was to him the drudgery of the farm, worked helping Lilian, Feid and, his favorite, Shelley at the Friendly Flower Shoppe. Imogen and Eileen loved helping Miss Lavender with the arts'n'crafts classes at Valeria Primary School. Aislinn got to play with the other very young children during those happy summers at the little Anglican Chapel, so Sean lending a hand with the Friendly Flower Shoppe made everything work out nicely for everyone. Sean's primary duties were sweeping, mopping, emptying the trash receptacles and delivering flowers but once in a while, he got to assist with creating the actual flower arrangements themselves. Sometimes Lilian would show him a thing or two about the art of flower arranging, sometimes Feid and sometimes even Shelley. He loved it when Shelley let him assist her, though he never breathed a word about how much he really liked her. In fact, Sean never said much of anything at all. |