A celebratory ode to a dear friend and star of the literary world

Imelda Conway-Duffy

Connemara

The drive from Dublin to Galway on a spring day provided a chance to unwind, after a particularly busy and intense eight-month contract, working with a financial institution. I was now a few months into a very different contract – ghostwriting a book. It was a shared interest in writing that had led to correspondence with Helen Noble. Now, through a mutual friend, we were about to meet for the first time.

Beyond Galway City, the expanse of the Connemara Mountains and lakes, the winding roads leading to Roundstone, almost devoid of traffic, was an invitation to breathe and relax. The ‘road’ onto the island of Inishnee, was another matter. The ‘motorway’ was the ‘ice-breaker’ when we met and provided much laughter on subsequent journeys to and fro! Helen and her husband had travelled in the rugged security of a jeep. I wasn’t sure if my car had survived the…

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