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Dublin,” Ryan said. “Well, I didn’t. I was up here arranging things, and there’s a lot more you don’t know and now is the time for the telling.”
    “Go on,” Keogh told him.
    Ryan produced the Ordnance Survey map of the area, which they had consulted in London, and unfolded it.
    “There’s Ravenglass on the coast. A bit of a winding road from Barrow to get there. Maybe twenty-five miles. Marsh End is about five miles south of Ravenglass.”
    “So?” Keogh said.
    “See here, to one side of Ravenglass, the valley running up into the mountains? Eskdale it’s called. I’ve got what you might call friends there.”
    “But you never told me that,” Kathleen said in astonishment.
    “I’m telling you now, am I not? Now, this is the way of it. My own cousin, Colin Power, had an English wife named Mary, a farmer’s daughter from Eskdale. Colin was a tenant farmer in County Down, but when her parents died, the farm in Eskdale was left to her.”
    “So they moved over?”
    “Exactly. This was twenty years ago. They brought with them a young boy, Colin’s nephew, Benny. He had brain damage from birth. His parents wanted to put him in a home, but Mary, having no child of her own, took him on and raised him.”
    “And they’re up there now in Eskdale?” Kathleen demanded.
    “Right at the head of the valley. A remote, desolate place. Folly’s End it’s called, and that’s an apt name for it. Too much rain, too much wind. The sheep don’t thrive.” Ryan shrugged. “It was too much for Colin. He died of a heart attack five years ago. Only Mary and Benny to run the place.”
    “A lot of work for two people, I would have thought,” Keogh said.
    Ryan laughed out loud. “Just wait till you see Benny.” At that moment the local train pulled in at the platform and he glanced through the window. “That’s us. Let’s get moving,” and he stood up and led the way out.
     
     
    T HERE WERE ONLY a handful of passengers getting off the train at Barrow-in-Furness. They went through the ticket barrier, passed into the concourse, and stood outside.
    A voice called, “Uncle Michael, it’s me,” the words heavy and slurred.
    There was an old Land Rover parked on the other side, and the man standing beside it was quite extraordinary. He was at least six feet four in height and built like an ox with enormous shoulders. He wore a tweed cap and a shabby tweed suit with patches on the elbows. He rushed forward eagerly, a childlike expression on the fleshy face.
    “It’s me, Uncle Michael,” he said again.
    Michael gave him a brief hug. “Good man yourself, Benny. Is your aunt well?”
    “Very well. Looking forward to seeing you.”
    The words came out with difficulty, slow and measured.
    Ryan said, “My niece, Kathleen. You and she will be cousins two or three times removed.”
    Benny pulled off his cap revealing a shock of untidy yellowing hair. He nodded, beaming with pleasure. “Kathleen.”
    She reached up and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to meet you.”
    He was overcome, nodding eagerly, and Ryan introduced Keogh, who held out his hand. Benny’s grasp was so strong that Keogh grimaced with pain.
    “Easy, son — easy does it.” He turned to Ryan. “I see what you mean about running the farm. This lad must be up to the work of ten men.”
    “At least,” Ryan said. “Anyway, let’s get going.”
    Benny took Kathleen’s suitcase and Ryan’s and raced ahead to the Land Rover. Ryan said to Keogh and Kathleen, “He could beat five men in any barroom brawl, but in the heart of him he’s a child. Mind that well and give him time when he speaks. Sometimes he has difficulty getting the words out.”
    Benny put the luggage in the back and Keogh slung his duffle in. Benny ran round to open the front passenger door. He pulled off his cap and nodded eagerly again to Kathleen.
    “In you go, Kate,” Keogh told her. “Make the big fella’s day. We’ll sit behind.”
    They all got in and Benny ran round