No Place Like Home
In 1938 Dan meets Maggie from Gortahork at a ceili. They move to Glasgow, raise ten children. Years later Maggie feels the call to go back to Donegal. She returns with her youngest, my mother Nuala, then 10 years old. She haggles and borrows and slowly but surely builds, with her own hands, a home.
I am 12 when she falls down the stairs in 2003. The house is left to one son, Kevin. There is much bitterness and anger. The eldest four – who never lived in Ireland – moved to Donegal, settling in the tiny village with their thick Glasgow accents. One of them goes missing to hunt down his imaginary wife. Another breaks every one of the house’s windows. And another occupies the top floor with a knife. Why are they here? What are they looking for?