‘Sorry,’ said their neighbour, fumbling to stop an egg from falling. ‘But I thought that’s why they were on the road? Shay Morrissey saw them going into her house.’
‘Oh, they were calling to her all right. It just wasn’t about the dog.’ Carmel drew something indecipherable in the air and the beret finally slid from her head.
‘Why were they calling to her then?’
Edie had gone from high-pitched to breathless, and Robin was starting to think there was a sanity test you had to fail in order to get a house on this street.
‘It was about the list at the school,’ said Carmel, reaching down for the hat. ‘That’s why Ellen’s been able to go full dictator on this street party. Bernie’s out of the picture, she’s fallen from grace. Her son, Declan – he was the one who wrote the list.’
*** Pine Road Poker ***
Ellen:
Good morning, residents! Today is the day!
The all-improved *NEW* Pine Road pre-Easter Street Party with the inaugural Pine Road Easter Egg Treasure Hunt.
For anyone who somehow missed Monday’s booklet – distributed to all homes! – let’s go over the itinerary ONE MORE TIME.
8 a.m.: Begin clearing cars. If we could fill the Occupied Territory first and then feed remaining vehicles over to Oak Road. We don’t want everyone trying to get off the road at the same time, so if we start at the bottom and incrementally work our way up. Keep your eyes on your windows, ladies. My Joe will be out in a high-vis from 7.45 a.m., ready to assist in directing cars.
8.30 a.m.: Anyone doing significant cooking/baking would want to have their offering in the oven by now.
9 a.m.: Chairs and tables to be carried out on to Pine Road. We expect all residents to bring a chair for themselves, and a few more for visitors. I know several of us have family coming today – and a few select guests from Oak, Elm, Beech and Chestnut. I’m expecting our biggest turnout EVER so *please* be generous with seating.
9.15 a.m.: Commence the stringing of bunting. B.Y.O.L. (That’s Bring Your Own Ladder. All acronyms are in Tuesday’s booklet.)
9.20 a.m.: Myself and Trish Walsh, who has kindly volunteered to help with the Treasure Hunt, will commence calling to participating houses to hide clues. DO NOT watch where these are placed.
NOTE: I WILL NOT HESITATE TO DISQUALIFY SUSPECTED CHEATERS, EVEN IN THEIR OWN HOMES.
9.30 a.m.: Helium tank delivered to the road.
9.40 a.m.: Commence blowing up of balloons with said helium.
9.55 a.m.: Commence table decoration.
NOTE: ARTIST’S IMPRESSION OF HOW THIS SHOULD LOOK WAS IN THE FINAL PREPARATION BOOKLET DISTRIBUTED TO HOMES ON THURSDAY. PLEASE FOLLOW.
10.15 a.m.: Complete table decoration, bunting and balloon inflation.
10.18 a.m.: Commence laying out of food.
NOTE: COLD FOODS ONLY AT THIS POINT
10.30 a.m.: Commence playing of music. Fiona – Begin at a low level and gradually increase between now and 11.10 a.m.
NOTE: FOR ACCEPTABLE VOLUME, PLEASE SEE MONDAY’S INFORMATION BOOKLET FOR DUBLIN CITY COUNCIL’S APPROVED DECIBEL LEVELS.
10.45 a.m.: Hot food in place. It would be better if this were served gradually, with remainder kept warm in stoves. If possible, do *not* use microwaves. Several Elm residents will be in attendance.
10.52 a.m.: Pig on Spit in position.
11 a.m.: OFFICIAL KICK-OFF. I expect everyone out on the road by 11 a.m., relaxing and having a good time. There is no dress code, this is a street party. But my advice would be smart-casual.
11-11.30 a.m.: Relaxing and light mingling. (Suggested)
11.30-11.50 a.m.: Light snacking. (Suggested)
12 p.m.: THE GREAT EASTER EGG TREASURE HUNT IS GO. Instructions to be outlined before event commences. High-vis jackets will be handed out to all participants to distinguish them from other revellers. There is space for thirty neighbours to participate. I expect strong take-up.
1.15 p.m.: Depending on the mental ability of participants, I expect the winners to be announced around now.
1.30 p.m.: Modest celebration and feting of winners.
1.45p.m.: Spur-of-the-moment speech by resident to thank the organiser of the highly successful first ever Pine Road Easter Egg Treasure Hunt. (Suggested)
2-4 p.m.: Fun party games. Nothing that might cause offence – unlike last year. Chinese whispers has been banned.
4 p.m.: More hot food served.
4.30 p.m.: Preliminary tidy-up.
NOTE: SEE ‘HOW TO CLEAN EFFECTIVELY’ PAMPHLET DISTRIBUTED WITH THURSDAY’S BOOKLET.
5 p.m.: Low-level, social alcohol consumption.
NOTE: SEE ALCOHOL UNIT RECCOMMENDATIONS DISTRIBUTED ON WEDNESDAY AS STAND-ALONE FLYER.
5-10 p.m.: Mingling and chit-chat.
10 p.m.: Wind-down.
10.15 p.m.: Pine Road Street Party ends.
10.20 p.m.-midnight: Official, high-level tidy-up.
NOTE: ALL TABLES AND CHAIRS THAT HAVE NOT BEEN REMOVED BY 10.40 p.m. WILL BE GIVEN TO SHAY MORRISSEY FOR HIS OWN PERSONAL USE. THIS WAS PART OF THE NEGOTATION DEAL FOR USE OF THE OCCUPIED TERRITORY.
Carmel:
All the beeping!! It’s like being in a torture camp!
Could you not have sent this at a reasonable hour?
Or at least as one long message???
Ellen:
You really shouldn’t keep your phone in your bedroom, Carmel. It’s best to have a digital unwind before sleep.
THIRTY-SIX
It was four weeks since Trish found out from her daughter that Declan Reilly had written the list.
At first, it had all unfolded quickly. Trish had talked to Norman, the head of the board of management, the next day and he’d phoned the police. Two sets of parents had made official complaints and the guards, though reluctant to get involved, had instructed the school to keep them abreast. Two officers called to Bernie’s house that same day – the day of the great parking showdown between Shay Morrissey and Daniel Carmody – to deliver a warning. They were leaving any actual punishment up to the school.
And then it all moved slowly. Trish had advocated for a suspension rather than expulsion. The rest of the board thought it would be easier to cut him loose. Trish argued that Declan had alerted Gormless Paul to the list and that by confessing to her daughter he’d practically confessed to her. She spoke to his previous good character and the evils of peer pressure. Initially Bernie didn’t help matters by involving a lawyer and holding up the whole process, but in the end, the lawyer probably made the board paranoid about making the smallest mistake and it was decided to suspend Declan Reilly for two weeks and to have him commit to a series of sexual respect courses. Trish wanted to have the other boys who were in the bathroom that day enrolled in the course too but Declan refused to offer up any names.
Declan was now halfway through his suspension and when Trish called to Bernie’s to discuss his return to school, she’d found the woman in an alarming state. While the empty bottle of red wine sitting on her counter no doubt had a role to play, it was also linked to Ellen’s ‘treachery’. Having found out about Declan’s suspension, the woman who had once worshipped at Bernie’s feet had turned on her former icon with chilling speed.
Not only did Ellen advise Bernie to sit out this year’s street party entirely but she told her that should the Irish Independent be seeking a more credible parenting expert, she had an A2 in Leaving Certificate English, a successful track record in implementing screen time limits and two children who were not sexual deviants.
‘I made this road what it is, and now Ellen’s trying to steal it from under me!’
Trish had tried to appease the sobbing woman, telling her she was sure that wasn’t the case as she pushed the ignored back-toschool agreement across the counter.
‘You don’t know her,’ spat Bernie, with such ferocity she knocked the pages to the floor. ‘I taught her everything she knows!’
In a move she now regretted, Trish had agreed to
keep an eye on things. She told Bernie she would volunteer and make sure it wasn’t a complete takeover. Ellen, meanwhile, had been delighted to have a helper she didn’t have to blackmail.
So here Trish was leaving her house, and her husband, at 9.20 on a Saturday morning with a ring-binder full of treasure hunt clues and instructions from Ellen to barge into people’s homes and leave them in very specific locations. Ellen was currently dispersing half the clues on the left-hand side of the road, while Trish did the right. She felt sorry for Declan and, to a lesser extent, Bernie. Trish reminded herself of this as she knocked on the first door.
‘Trish! Hello. Lovely to see you!’ exclaimed Edie.
‘Apologies, Edie. I know it’s early, but I’m helping hide the Easter egg treasure hunt clues. I’m sure you saw how tightly Ellen has this thing timetabled.’
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Edie. ‘I’m honoured to be taking part. Isn’t it the most glorious day?’
Trish glanced up at a sky she would have described as average. ‘It’s good it’s not raining,’ she offered.
‘Oh it is, it absolutely is. You’re so right! Come in, come in!’
She followed Edie through to the kitchen, and watched as she spun – no, pirouetted – on the tiled floor and landed with her palms on the island.
‘Do you know when you have those days where everything seems terrible, hopeless, and then something happens and suddenly everything is right again?’
‘I . . .’ Trish looked around the kitchen. ‘Sure.’ She placed the ring-binder on the island. ‘So, you agreed to let us put one of the clues in your house . . .’
‘Clues!’ trilled Edie, clasping her hands together as Trish opened the ring-binder.
‘Yep. Clues.’
Trish found Edie’s enthusiasm exhausting at the best of times – between the energy and eyes, she wouldn’t have been that surprised if the woman had an MDMA habit – but she was surely more hyper than usual today.
Trish pulled out an envelope. ‘I have one to hide in this house. And sorry about this, but Ellen wants me to do it without the residents watching, to prevent any cheating or accusations of cheating . . .’
‘Absolutely. Whatever you want! I really am just so happy to be part of the Pine Road community.’
This was another point where Trish and Edie differed. If Trish and Ted didn’t have so much stuff, and if it wasn’t so close to the school, she’d happily have moved. She wouldn’t miss living next door to the head of the Parents’ Association, or the constant drama and WhatsApp message alerts, dementing her all the livelong day.
‘Is Daniel here?’ she asked, before she went roaming about their house.
‘He had to go out for a couple of hours.’ Edie rested her elbows on the counter, her chin on her fists. ‘But it’s good because it’s given me a chance to hide the clues for my own treasure hunt!’
‘You’re making a treasure hunt?’
‘For Daniel. Isn’t that fun? I’ve done five clues and hidden them around the house, and then left his prize at the end.’ Edie beamed. ‘Rhyming riddles are harder than you’d think.’
‘Okay. Well.’ Trish was starting to feel like the Grinch. ‘If you stand at the kitchen door and maybe cover your eyes, I’ll go and hide this.’
‘Absolutely!’ Edie shimmied over to the corner. ‘I feel like we’re playing hide-and-seek!’
Trish left the room and headed for the stairs.
‘Shall I count to ten or something?’ Edie called. ‘Or no. I’ll sing!’
Trish didn’t know what any of the clues said just that each one led to the next and that this particular envelope had a Post-it note stuck to it that said ‘leave in Edie’s bed’. Feeling like some sort of Peeping Tom, she pulled back Edie’s blanket and quickly threw the envelope under.
Right. Done.
In the kitchen, Edie was singing Florence + the Machine’s ‘Dog Days Are Over’ and sashaying from side to side.
‘Edie,’ called Trish, finally tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention.
‘Oh!’
‘Thanks. I’m off.’
‘Did it go okay? Actually, don’t tell me anything. I want to do the treasure hunt. Oh,’ Edie paused, the first hint of anything other than drug-induced bliss, ‘did Ellen say anything about my eggs for the hunt? Did she like them?’
‘She said they were great,’ lied Trish. Ellen had actually said they looked like something you’d get in Aldi and lamented how you give someone one simple task and they still managed to disappoint you.
‘I think I’m going to wear something fancy to the street party,’ said Edie, walking her to the door. ‘You know those days where you just want to wear something fancy?’
‘Sure,’ said Trish, who preferred comfort and found daytime ‘fancy’ was usually code for ‘cheap’. ‘See you at the party.’
‘I’ll be there! Eleven a.m. sharp!’
Ellen was hiding clues in a flower bed across the road. She was already well ahead. Trish hurried into Ruby’s garden, placing the envelope, as instructed, in her recycling bin and then into the Chambers’ next door, where an envelope was placed in the microwave. By the time she reached Carmel Dwyer’s house, she was slightly ahead of Bernie, who was still poking about in Rita Ann’s lawn.
‘Jesus Christ!’
A massive bunny rabbit was standing at the end of the road. It was bright pink, about a foot taller than Trish and wearing battered Asics trainers with a reflective cycling jacket.
‘Hi, Trish,’ came a muffled, forlorn voice from within the manically grinning rabbit head.
‘Joe?’
‘I’m directing cars,’ came the voice she recognised as belonging to Ellen Russell-O’Toole’s husband.
‘You . . . Why are you wearing that?’
‘Ellen,’ he said stoically, and went back to staring out on to the road, waiting.
Carmel’s grandson opened the door, a colourful oval painted on each cheek.
‘Hi, Jack,’ said Trish. ‘I like your Easter eggs.’
‘It’s my birthday today. I’m five.’
‘Wow. Happy birthday. Five is so big.’ Trish beamed at him. ‘Is your granny here? Or your nanny?’ What other names did grandparents go by? ‘Your gran . . .?’
Suddenly the boy threw back his head with the dexterity of something from The Exorcist and bellowed at the ceiling. ‘Graaanneeee!’
‘Jack Dunne, stop that shouting right now!’ shouted Carmel, appearing from the kitchen. ‘You’re not supposed to open that door by yourself.’ Carmel marched up the hallway but Jack ducked and ran before she could reprimand him any more. ‘Hi, Trish. How’s it going?’
Trish smiled. ‘He was just saying it’s his birthday. That’s nice.’
‘It’s not his birthday.’ Carmel sighed. ‘But he keeps telling people that it is. He has me lighting candles for him to blow out all week and he refuses to go to bed unless someone sings Happy Birthday to him. He’s an insatiable little tyrant.’
Trish nodded, not quite sure of an appropriate response. ‘I’m just here to hide your treasure hunt clue.’
‘Old Two Names caught me on the hop on that one; I was struggling back from Island Stores with three bags of messages and nowhere to hide.’
Trish opened her ring-binder and pulled out the envelope for number nine.
Carmel peered at it. ‘That for us?’
Trish covered the Post-it note with the instructions on where to put it. ‘It is.’
‘What does it say?’
Trish smiled. ‘I’m just told where to hide it.’
‘I’d say I only need one guess as to where the final clue leads anyway, whose house gets the glory of being home to the main prize.’
Carmel glanced over Trish’s shoulder and she also turned to watch Ellen walking up Martha Rigby’s path.
‘I couldn’t possibly say.’ The road and its mother knew Ellen would be keeping the glory for herself. ‘So, am I okay to go and hide this in yours? Will you wait o
ut here – just to make sure there’s no cheating?’
‘I would never!’
‘Or accusations of cheating.’
Carmel, who was still trying to read what the Post-it note said, acquiesced. She stuck her head back into the hallway. ‘Robin! Jack! Johnny!’ Then to Trish again: ‘Mick’s gone to the supermarket.’
Johnny stepped out into the garden in his socks, Robin and Jack following. ‘I’m watching something.’
‘Come out for a minute. Trish has to plant a bug in our house on behalf of Agent Two Names.’
‘What?’
Trish stepped inside, closing the door and tiptoeing down to the kitchen where, as instructed by the Post-it, she placed the clue on top of the fridge.
‘All done,’ she called, stepping back out into the garden as Jack ran inside and Johnny followed.
The three women stood in the garden, Robin a little farther back. Trish and Carmel smiled politely.
‘It’s good it’s not raining,’ said Trish for the third time this morning.
‘Is Two Names expecting many people?’
‘Oh, yes. She’s really dedicated to this being our biggest and best street party. Almost all the residents are coming, a few extended family members, people from other roads.’
‘Well, I’ve got the fondue simmering. Do I still need to bring a bowl of air for Sylvie, I wonder? Are Bernie and family coming?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Trish. ‘I suppose you heard about Declan . . .’
‘I did. From Ellen,’ added Carmel. ‘I have to say I was surprised.’
‘Me too,’ said Trish. ‘He’s a good lad who did a bad thing.’
‘I don’t mean I was surprised Declan was responsible, I barely know the chap. I was surprised Ellen was spreading the gossip. I know the woman loves to bitch, but I thought she loved her C-listcelebrity friendship even more. She wanted me to sign a petition to have Bernie removed as head of the Parents’ Association.’
‘Oh God,’ groaned Trish.
‘I declined,’ added Carmel. ‘Not worth the hassle. I suppose she fancies nicking the job. I’d say she’s in her element this morning; her bid to succeed Bernie as queen bee well under way.’
Three Little Truths Page 25
