Flaggy Shore

Samantha McKenna

Each summer, I eagerly awaited our family’s annual holiday to Flaggy Shore, a tranquil escape from city life. My parents, both teachers, rented a summer cottage in New Quay, County Clare just a stone’s throw from the rugged limestone beach.

The first time I walked on the rocky landscape, aged 13, I felt like an astronaut exploring the moon. Now, five years later, the lunar strand still enthralled me, offering a sense of freedom in its wild, unspoiled beauty.

Four years ago on Flaggy Shore, I met Donal Ryan, two years my senior, with a disarming, yet warm smile. We became best friends that summer. The next year, I hoped he’d notice my efforts to improve my figure and style, but he remained oblivious, treating me like a younger sister.

By the time I was 17, I finally found the courage to declare my undying love for Donal. By then, I had blossomed into an attractive young woman and had received many advances from other young men. Surely, Donal would now see the desirable woman before him.

But Donal, in his usual manner, turned it all into a joke. Without being offensive, he made me feel like I was joking myself, assuring me he cared deeply for me. I wondered if he had a girlfriend, but I didn’t ask for fear of ruining the potential.

Last summer, at 18, on my final family holiday before college, I was determined to make Donal see me as a desirable woman; I was even willing to propose if necessary. I was confident he felt the same but was trapped in the friendship bubble, unable to see beyond it.

I arranged to meet Donal at the Blue Cave entrance on the second night of my holiday, a spot filled with memories for us. On my first night back in New Quay, I couldn’t sleep with excitement and took my usual late-night walk along Flaggy Shore, comforted by the gentle sound of waves on rocky shore.

The tranquillity of the night shattered when I saw Donal in the distance locked in a loving embrace. I hid behind a large rock, confident he hadn’t seen me. Maybe I was mistaken, and it was an innocent encounter I had witnessed. Summoning my courage, I sneaked closer and saw Donal passionately kissing Eddie Dunne, the doctor’s son.

I stumbled backward to the cold surface, recoiling in disgust and anger. In that moment, all my hopes and dreams shattered, and I was filled with rage. I stood at a distance, staring at the man in whom I had invested all my future dreams lying on the grey flagstone with another man.

The next morning, I told my parents I wanted to go back to Dublin to prepare for college. Surprised I had wanted to come in the first place, they didn’t question me leaving and dropped me at the Kinvara train station. Back in Rathgar, I planned my year ahead: new friends, college, and perhaps even a boyfriend deserving of me.

That evening I listened to the news of two local boys found dead on Flaggy Beach. Locals were shocked, unable to comprehend how close friends could fall out so violently. Both had died of blunt force trauma; one must have hit the other and then fallen backward on the limestone.

I have always loved Flaggy Beach for its unforgiving, harsh landscape. Once again, it had given me exactly what I needed.

Samantha McKenna is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am in the Annebrook House Hotel. Mullingar.