Excerpt from Odysseus Revisited

The enclosed hum of the small restaurant is unsettling after the open stillness of the river walk from the car park.  You’ve suggested the location – Blackrock Castle.  Although it’s not as grand as it sounds, you guessed it might appeal to him as an American.  And, let’s face it, Ireland is spoilt for choice where castles are concerned. 

         This one is at the edge of the River Lee, its stone turrets and towers standing to attention beside water shimmering silver against a thinly grey summer sky.  It’s just a 15-minute drive from the cranes and high rises of a congested city centre, as if it’s been super-imposed on to modern Ireland like a medieval anachronism.

         He’s already at the table and stands when you arrive.  For a 55-year old, he’s well maintained – the skin smooth and tanned, his body slim and expensively dressed – although he has something of the plastic look of Barry Manilow which is off-putting.  As you draw closer, you see that the Hollywood looks are accompanied by a certain coldness in his expression.