Those undeserved joys
which come uncalled
and make us more pleased
than grateful -
are they that sing.

THOREAU

A "Different Kind of Dream" is the same book as
"The Flowers of Ballygrace".

The Flowers of Ballygrace is set in the 1950’s Ireland that Geraldine O’Neill has visited in several of her previous novels, and her new, compelling characters have echoes for both the young and the young-at-heart.

Raven-haired Kate Flowers lives on the banks of the canal in Ballygrace, looking after widowed mother, Mary, and undependable brother, Brendan, who works on the barges. Life starts to change when Kate meets handsome boatman, Michael O’Brien, and she casts aside her dreams of nursing, for the conventional path of marriage and motherhood. But trouble looms when Mary visits sister, Rose, in Stockport and re-discovers her forgotten youth and finds a new interest in men.When the canal barges are threatened, Brendan is torn between emigration and his secret love for the daughter of a volatile neighbour. Then suddenly, the family’s life is shattered when a tragedy occurs, leaving all three in circumstances they could never have imagined.

The Flowers family are forced to rebuild their lives in new surroundings that will test them, and give them the courage to bloom once again.

You can now read chapter one of Flowers of Ballygrace

Background Notes for The Flowers of Ballygrace

The Flowers of Ballygrace has all the hallmarks and warmth of Geraldine’s previous novels, and she returns to the Irish Midlands once again, to the familiar Offaly landscape of the Tara Flynn books and the fictitious village of Ballygrace.
The inspiration for her new novel came from a community art project which celebrated 200 years of The Grand Canal. Geraldine was the artist in residence in Daingean, County Offaly, where she lives, and her research for the writing project involved her speaking to people who had worked on the canals or lived nearby in the 50’s and 60’s.
When she heard the stories about tragedies that had happened on the boats and the descriptions of the day to day life of the men as they travelled through the canal towns, the author immediately knew that she had the setting for her next book!

Chapter One

May 1958
Offaly,

The air was sweet with summer scents from the trees and the spindly wild blossoms as Kate Flowers cycled along the towpath from her family cottage in Ballygrace to Tullamore town. The afternoon sunlight brought a glinting shimmer to the normally dull canal, and several times the unaccustomed heat gave Kate a silly urge to strip off to her underwear, jump in and have a swim and a splash about as she had often done when she was a young girl. But having reached the age of twenty, she had long since learned to temper her spontaneity over such things.
Even though it was quiet at this particular stretch of the canal, you never knew who was lurking about, watching and listening. And it would just be her luck for another cyclist or a fisherman to suddenly appear from behind a hedge or a tree at the wrong moment. She shook her head at the thought, her curly black ponytail bouncing on her shoulders, knowing that it would ruin her reputation for ever. And that was the last thing she or her widowed mother needed. Her older brother Brendan was doing a good enough job of ruining the family’s reputation without Kate adding to it.
She dismounted the bike now to push the sturdy high-Nellie over a small, steep bridge. When she reached the middle point on the bridge, she leaned the bike against the stone wall and then sat down on a flat smooth stone to look down at the canal. There was no sign of the pair of swans that had made their home there this last few weeks.
She walked across the bridge now to look at the opposite side, and after a few moments, a smile spread across her full lips as she spotted the white shapes close by the canal bank.
She watched them for a while, then she suddenly looked at her watch. She would have to get a move on or the best of the meat would be gone in the butcher’s, and then Brendan would give out to her about how he paid for all the food that was put on the Flowers’ table, and the least she and her mother could do was to make sure that it was of a decent standard.

* * *

Kate Flowers tucked a stray ringlet of jet-black hair back into her thick ponytail, as she studied the contents of her wicker shopping basket. “I think that’s everything,” she said, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“I suppose you’ll be going to the Maypole Dance down at Ballygrace canal tonight?” Mrs O’Neill said, as she handed over the neatly wrapped package of sausages to add to pound of rashers, the black and white pudding and the three sirloin steaks already in Kate’s basket. The large, thick slice of steak was for Brendan and the two smaller slices for Kate and her mother, Mary.
“Oh, I’m not sure,” Kate replied, handing over the two half-crowns, and doing her best not to be drawn into the older woman’s inquisition.
“Oh, you don’t want to be missing a good night out,” the butcher’s wife went on. “Sure, all the young ones from Ballygrace and thereabouts will be at it, and all the fine-looking young bucks from around the place.” She went over to the till now, then a few moments later came back to count Kate’s change into her hand. “It’s one of the best dance nights of the summer, and they’re giving it to be a fine mild evening.”
“I’ll see,” Kate said vaguely, putting the coins into her small, black leather purse. “I don’t like leaving my mother on her own for too long.”
“And how is Mary?” Mrs O’Neill asked, folding her chunky arms on top of the glass counter. She was a good advert for her husband’s meat business, looking well fed with rosy red cheeks. “Is she keeping well in herself?”
“Grand,” Kate said, giving a terse little smile. “She’s a lot better.”
“Ah sure, your poor mother would be fine enough on her own for a few hours. It wouldn’t do her the slightest bit of harm.” She lowered her voice. “And I’m sure she would be delighted to see you out enjoyin’ yourself and maybe meeting up with a nice fella to look after the pair of ye. It’s a lonely oul’ spot down there by the canal, and you shouldn’t have any problem gettin’ a lad, a good-looking girl like yourself… ”
“Oh, we’re grand as we are,” Kate said quickly, lifting the basket from the counter. “We have Brendan out there with us at the weekends.”
“It’s not the same,” Mrs O’Neill told her, shaking her head gravely. “You need a man there night and day.” She leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “And anyway, between you and me, I think Brendan will be finding himself a wife one of these days. He’s got a good steady job on the canal boats and he’s one of the finest dancers in the area. Sure, the girls are only mad for him.”
“Thanks, Mrs O’Neill,” Kate said crisply, turning towards the door, her face flushed with embarrassment. The last thing she wanted to hear was about Brendan finding himself a wife when the whole town knew that he had found himself a wife at the last Maypole Dance.
The only trouble was it was another man’s wife.

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