4. Katherine Ann Kiernan

Caitlin Kitty Kiernan was a local legend in Cahersiveen, Ireland.

When she was seven years old, she had run away from home, riding a horse over fifty miles to the town of Killorglen because her parents had tried to force her to eat cabbage. She hated cabbage. When she was fourteen, she recited an entire Canto of Dante's Inferno from her rooftop, shouting in poor ancient Italian to the fishermen and farmers of her town that had gathered, baffled, to watch the spectacle. When she was seventeen, she had organized, cast, and starred in a local production of The Tempest; when she was twenty, she could be often found in the town square, selling copies of her self-published book of grandiose romantic poetry.

She was beautiful, dramatic, and wild. To the people of her small town, she was something of a comet, and people were always asking "what that crazy Kiernan girl is up to these days." Every boy within ten years of her age was wildly and desperately in love with her and, before the age of twenty-two, she had already received no less than nine proposals of marriage. But, of course, she was going to move to London and take the world by storm; no small-town life for Caitlin Kitty Kiernan. And by the age of twenty-five, off she had gone.

Nobody had heard of her sister, Katherine Ann Kiernan.

Katherine was just a bit younger than her sister. "Kind of" pretty, "kind of" intelligent, but diminutive of stature and painfully shy, she often just blended right into the background. Frequently distracted by the shenanigans of her older sister, her parents all but forgot that they had another daughter. And, small town though it was, people only knew of Katherine as "Caitlin's sister" and she most frequently came up in the context of "Oh yes! I had forgotten that Caitlin had a sister! Is she still living in Cahersiveen?"

Katherine was a novelist, but was, in truth, a less than talented writer. The following excerpt was given to me to read:

“It was a blustery morning, a windy day. The air blew around in swirls. The wind played with curtains and the skirts of bustling women. A man’s trousers lifted up to reveal checked dress socks. This man, deep in thought, was on his way down to walk by the river. But it was a windy, blustery day, and he found himself distracted by the bits of paper blowing about in the windy wind.”

(I reckon that’s enough said about that).

She also worked at the local tailor’s shop where the owner frequently forgot her name. Even though she'd worked there for four years, and was the only employee.

The best part of her day was the afternoon when she would take her dog, Rhinoceros, for a walk, ending up at her friend Julia's house. Julia was in every respect, Katherine's very twin of disposition. It was only in looks that they differed: Katherine was just over five feet tall and frail, with pale orange hair and dark eyes; Julia was five foot nine, large and buxom of body with straw-yellow hair and washed out blue eyes.

Winston gave the following account of their affair:

“I met Katherine a few years ago. My Great Aunt lives inland of Cahersiveen and I was going to visit, so I landed there and decided that, because the weather was especially lovely, I should buy a bike to ride over to her town. I found one in Cahersiveen and set out along the way, but took a wrong turn and, while I was lost, got a flat tire. So there I was, walking my bike down a country lane when along comes Katherine and Rhinoceros. I stopped her to ask if she knew where we were and where I could find a replacement tire for my bike. We began walking towards the nearest village and got caught in a massive thunderstorm, so we turned around and went to her house. Then, she caught a terrible, terrible cold that lasted for a couple of weeks, so I stayed to take care of her. When she got better, it was late Spring, and we spent several more weeks together, mostly walking around the surrounding countryside. But then I remembered that I had to get to my grandmother’s house and, as I then knew my way around the country much better, I left.”

Now, when we were plotting out the ex-lovers to revisit, he thought it would be a good idea to start with Katherine, mild-mannered and shy as she was.

Her house is, as she is, small and inconspicuous. Sat on a shady country lane, it is covered in vines, has a brick chimney, and rose bushes in the front yard. Willoughby and I sat down on the grass by the mailbox on the edge of her property, and watched Winston approach the door with interest and smiles of encouragement.

We didn't see who opened the door, but Winston disappeared through it. Not more than one minute elapsed before the relative silence of Katherine's front yard was interrupted by loud, angry, yelling, the bang of pots hitting walls and the crash of pottery smashing. The front door swung open and Winston rushed out, wide-eyed and holding his head. A small figure came dashing out of the door behind him, spewing a tirade of curses in a rollicking Irish accent, launching a stapler, then a small lamp, then a knife after him.



He ran down the path, grabbed for my hand and pulled me away with him at a full run. Willoughby followed, laughing, behind us.

"So, how'd it go?" I asked, as we bounced along down the road. He looked at me, unamused.

After a quarter-mile, we slowed our pace to a walk and enjoyed the rest of the Irish countryside. The sun was high in the sky, the fields were green, and, in the distance, the ocean was eye-squintingly blue. When we got back to the ship, I looked at his battle wound. Katherine had left a goose-egg almost the size of herself on his forehead, by means of a toaster.

I held some ice to it for him. Apparently Katherine was a very small person with a very large temper. I suggested he maybe write her a letter

When his head and spirits were something recovered, we went on deck to make dinner, drink some wine and watch the stars come out. Ramone was playing his ukelele and Willoughby was plotting his next evil deed to play on Ramone.

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