Skeletons in the closet

According to her 1928 marriage certificate, my grandmother, Theresa Dyer, was born in Clonakilty, County Cork, in 1890 – the same coastal town in which Michael Collins, one of Ireland’s greatest political leaders, was born 15 years earlier.

Meandering around Clonakilty, a historic township of Georgian houses, colourful shopfronts and traditional pubs in Ireland’s south, I had thought about my grandmother, who sang songs like ‘Cockles and Mussels’ (Dublin’s unofficial anthem) when I was a child.

I had thought about my ancestors, who probably stepped across the same cobblestones, strolled the same scenic shores of Clonakilty Bay, explored the ruins of the nearby 14th century Timoleague Abbey, and picnicked around the Bronze Age Drombeg Stone Circle. Sitting in one of Clonakilty’s welcoming pubs, where locals played foot-tapping Irish music, I couldn’t have been more delighted that I had Irish ancestry.

Living in England at the time, I had made