Felicity’s Summer in Killarney — Chapter 3

A new weekly series from Killarney Advertiser's Jess Jukes

Jess Jukes, a member of the advertising department at the Killarney Advertiser, is also a budding writer. Each week, we will bring you her serialized novella following the adventures of Felicity’s summer in Killarney.

Felicity messaged Jack the following morning.

Hi, I hope you’re feeling better. I heard there was a woman with a new ice cream truck up in Tiernaboul. Do you want to go get your Dad’s ice cream truck back?
She made her toast and sat. Jack messaged back before she had finished her tea.

I’ll meet you at Daly’s, we can walk up together.
Felicity set out for the shop not long after. A dreary sky hung above her, a complete contrast to the day before. It wasn’t long before Jack came around the corner. He was no longer in his ice cream uniform, but in casual jeans and a flannel. He parked his bicycle and leant against the wall next to her.
“What’s this about my Da’s truck being up Tiernaboul?”

Felicity pushed off the wall. “I’ll tell you on our way up.” She told him everything. Jack mentioned how his Da had been quiet and sad when he and Auntie Sheila called to tell him about truck being stolen. He had been subdued still when he had picked Jack up and they went to the garda station to report the theft.

The two trailed through each and every estate, looking for the distinctive bright colours of the ice cream truck. They had been walking for a good half hour when they finally found it.

Jack came to a stop. “Well, you were right about the truck ... but why did the woman steal it in the first place?”

That was the question. “Come on, let’s go round the corner and call the gardaí before anyone realises they’ve left the keys outside.”

Felicity and Jack backtracked quickly, and Felicity called in an anonymous tip to the garda station. She put on a nasally voice, saying, “I saw an ice cream truck parked in the driveway of my neighbour, and now I know her I do, and she doesn’t own an ice cream truck. She doesn’t have any permit for that, and I don’t want her trawling up and down the street at all hours trying to sell merchandise without a licence.”
She continued her ramble until the poor sergeant on the other end of the phone sighed in resignation. He promised to send somebody up to investigate and Felicity hung up, triumphant.

Jack was almost crying with laugher. “Jeez Felicity, you should audition for the Four Esquires.”

It wasn’t long before she joined in his laughter. When they heard the garda car approaching, Felicity and Jack watched until the garda knocked on the door of the house. Only then they started back towards home, assured that the truck would be recognised.

Celebration
Sure enough, Jack’s Da Trevor had been delighted to get his ice cream truck back. He had been thankful to Auntie Sheila and Felicity for helping Jack when the truck was first stolen, and insisted on going out for a meal to celebrate its swift return.

The group found themselves in The Laurels, food in front of them, laughter and drinks flowing. Auntie Sheila was discussing the upcoming festival over the weekend with Jack’s mother, and Trevor was telling Jack the story of how he first brought his ice cream truck for what must be the millionth time.

Felicity found herself watching on with a content feeling. Not much better than a full stomach and good company.

As she was looking around the bar lazily, the girl paused. On the wall there was a framed Killarney Advertiser clipping. She got up and wandered over to for a better look.

There was an old man sitting at the bar underneath the clipping, a pint in hand. “You see the group that went up Carrauntoohil for charity last month? The lady in the middle, the one in yellow, she’s the daughter of the fella behind the bar.”

Depicted next to the article was in fact a group photograph full of people. ‘Walking Society Supports Charity atop Our Tallest Peak’ was splayed across the paper in bold lettering.

“Hm .. I’ve never seen it, Carrauntoohil.”

The man barked a laugh. “Course you have! You’re looking at the ‘Reeks all the time, aren’t ya lass? Nearly everything over the lake are the Reeks.”

Felicity turned towards him fully. “People go up it often then?”

The old man laughed again. “Nearly every day I’d wager. People go up in the sun and the rain, even when they shouldn’t. You know …” he leaned in closer as if to share a secret, “people die, up on that there mountain, every year. You gotta respect the mountains. They were here before we were, and they’ll be here long after we’re gone.” He coughed, and took a sip of his pint.

They spoke idly about the good food and the live musicians that were setting up. As the first notes of music began to waft on the air, Felicity bid the old man farewell and returned to her party.

Auntie Sheila moved over to free up Felicity’s seat again as she returned. “You met Seamus then?” she giggled, tipsy. “ He’s a dote, no one sweeter, I swear. You know, he’s been a regular in this bar ever since your mother and I were your age. Hasn’t changed a bit.” She hiccupped, and both Sheila and Jack’s mother started giggling.

Felicity ignored the women, now leaning on each other and saying things in funny voices whilst Trevor looked on with a smile on his face.

“Jack?” she asked conspiratorially. He turned to her, humming to show she had his attention. “Do you like mountains?”

Tune in next week to see what happens next