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communicating Jennifer, you know in your heart who it is that’s sending you that music.”
    She looked up at the old woman, could she hear it too?
    “Sometimes, when a lover goes away, he can send his voice to his loved one using these, sounds like bells playing, or so they say. I’ve never heard it myself, but there again Mr. Crow wasn’t exactly the romantic type, if you know what I mean.”
    Jennifer took the old wom an’s hand in hers, another myth. I t was probably nothing more than the rain making noises in an old pipe. The sound was gone and so was Sean.
    “Come on dear, we don’t want you to catch your death. That young Sean is alive and well somewhere, that’s for sure.”
    “Do you really think he still lives?”
    “What does your heart tell you?”
    “It tells me he is alive and he loves me.”
    Mrs. Crow smiled. T he truth of a young heart was unquestionable. If only people didn’t stop listening to their hearts as they got older the world would be such a nice place to live, she thought, “let’s get back in there and see what we can do about your mother.”
    But her mother was not about to be comforted. It would take a while. Jennifer would leave as soon as possible. S he would tell all her friends that she was off to London to marry her boyfriend. People would know she was pregnant but they wouldn’t be able to prove she didn’t get married. She would stay to live in London as long as possible after the baby’s birth, so as when she returned to Skerries she could say the marriage failed and she was getting a divorce. A divorced woman was much more acceptable than an unmarried mother.
    The next day she bought her ticket to London. She had never hated Skerries before, in fact she had always loved the place, but she knew how she herself had shunned a girl a few years earlier when the girl got herself pregnant. The girl went to live with her aunt in Liverpool in the end. It wasn’t as though people would throw stones or actively insult her, no, none of that. It was more like not talking to her, not saying “hi,” in the street when she walked past. Staring at her and talking about her predicament behind her back. The girl’s family would walk with their heads hanging low, which added to the shame she must have felt.
    If people found out about her own state now they would stop going to her mother’s shop. Maybe some of the gossips would go to try and weave some of the sordid details, but they wouldn’t buy anything, it’s likely her mother would throw them out adding fuel to the fire.
    Jennifer felt closed in. London was big, she could disappear in London . She felt frightened.
    She walked down the beach and sat to watch the sun go down. A young woman arrived with three young children and a dog, a Springer Spaniel. The dog ran toward her and wagged his entire body in greeting.
    The eldest of the children, a small blond girl, ran toward her, “don’t mind him,” she said, “he’s harmless. Come on Charlie!”
    The young girl pulled at the dog, which simply stood there wagging all over, staring at Jennifer.
    The mother was walking past and greeted her, then turned and walked toward them, the dog wouldn’t budge, Jennifer thought the woman would help the girl with her pet, but she walked past the girl and dog and sat by her smiling.
    “Sometimes everything looks dark and endless,” she said, “but don’t forget that winter never fails to turn to spring.”
    She handed Jennifer a white rose, “the sea just gave me this little present, I think it must be for you.” With these words the woman stood up and left, “Charlie, come boy,” she said and the dog followed her, jumping and running around and around, lifting clouds of sand.
    Jennifer watched the family move away and realized she hadn’t returned the greeting or said thank you. She l ooked at the rose, it was fresh. S he wondered how it had stayed fresh while floating in salty water. It was scientifically impossible. Someone must