Adaption

Homeland

Lisdoonvarna Co. Clare that was where they were headed. The bus was surprisingly comfortable but the journey itself was anything but. There seem to be nothing but endless winding roads filled with potholes and puddles left over from the heavy rain of the night before. Clare, always a serene traveller had taken to clinging to the rail to keep from swaying in time with the bus. The whites of her knuckles on a par with the shade of her usually rosy cheeks. Kerry was simply gazing straight ahead, in hope that if she kept her eyes focused the wouldn't roll back into her head with fright.

When the bus made its final stop, checked they had the all important documents before disembarking. Once they had stepped down from the bus they paused to catch their breath. Even though they hadn't been running. They exchanged a terrified glance which seemed to say; What do we do now? Even though each of them had been trying to convince the other, as well as themselves up to that moment, that they knew what they were doing. What they did next was set off at a brisk walk. Or it would have been brisk if the wind hadn't been so hell-bent on stopping them making progress. They were both secretly glad of it though, it irritated their eyes, giving them a logical reason for being on the verge of tears.

Eventually, upon coming across an open coffee shop, they decided to take a break. They needed to make themselves presentable, for one not to mention figure out what they were going to say. Or Clare did. She was Clare's mother. I mean why would Kerry care what she sounded or looked like in front of a total stranger? They wouldn't think any less of her if her hair was windswept and her mouth gaping.

Clare wandered off to the Ladies Room while Kerry went up to the counter. It was a sort of coffee shop/convenience store. The woman standing behind of her purse in one hand and an umbrella in the other. We should have thought of that. But they hadn't nor gloves, or hats. The best thing they could do now was dry their sopping wet clothes under the hand- dryer in the toilet. She ordered two cups of milky tea. Both girls had grow increasingly fond of it while here. Tea heals all wounds.. Or was that time? Whatever.

The jovial woman behind the counter, spoke with a Southern lilt as she promised to drop them down. Kerry settled herself at a table in the corner. Draughty though it was she liked to be able to see out. Not that there was much to see. A deserted square, a couple of shops, some parked cars. Everyone was tucked up inside. And so they should be. For this time of year it was horribly cold. If she was at home now, she's be attending Daniel Murray's annual pool party and sipping virgin margaritas. She could always ask to stay with Daniel if worst came to worst she supposed. No matter how much she wanted to be at home, there was no way she would be caught dead going back to the house.

She supposed that this wouldn't be her home. It would be Clare's. This tiny country, filled with hospitable people, old fashioned values and coloured by the fabled forty shades of green. Where would she go afterwards? The Bahamas maybe? Clare was never one for sitting by the pool turning brown, flicking absent mindedly through Vogue. She would rather be up and about. Splashing in the pool, playing crazy golf or signing herself up for scuba diving lessons. Such effort! Holidays were supposed to be all about relaxing. She always seemed to be running about, working up a sweat. Not giving a damn what she looked like in front of whatever exotic gentleman might be in the vicinity.

She she was taking her time getting beautified now. Kerry checked her watch and made a discontented noise. Drawing her numb fingers around the steaming mug, she found momentary sanctuary, as breathing in the steam, she forgot where she was. For a moment she was back in the kitchen at home. Animatedly retelling the nights events to her mother. Drinking coffee to keep herself awake, her face white with tiredness and with scrubbing off last night's make-up. Leaving out certain parts, of course. But not as much as other girls would. She and her mother were close. It was this closeness that allowed Heather to let her daughter out, trusting that she would keep herself safe. Or if all else failed, call her for help.