‘You’re perfectly capable of doing your own cooking and cleaning, Mammy,’ Rosi retorted. ‘We’ve no desire to take away your independence. What did he do? Assuming he’s retired.’
‘Semi-retired and he’s an electrician. He owns his own home in case you were wondering whether it’s my money he’s after.’
‘No, Mammy, we’ve Patrick for that.’ It slipped out.
Maureen glanced in the rear-view mirror once more but it was too dark for her to make out Rosi’s expression. She glossed over the remark, not wanting to get into it with her daughter tonight. ‘And he’s kind, he makes me laugh and treats me very well. So, there you have it.’
‘I should think so.’
‘Think so, what?’
‘That he treats you well, of course.’
Maureen smiled at Rosi’s indignant tone.
‘Any man who didn’t would have me, Ash, Moira and Patrick to answer to.’
‘You sounded like me then, fierce.’
‘Well I get it from somewhere,’ Rosi said.
‘Thank you for not jumping down my throat about him like the other two,’ Maureen said.
Rosi enjoyed the mammy, daughter solidarity for a moment and then said, ‘Well, Mammy, I know all about second chances and you’ve every right to one too. Speaking of which I’m going to stay at Shay’s tonight and tomorrow.’ Her hand shot out and grabbed the front seat headrest as Mammy braked with more force than was necessary at the first set of red lights.
‘You’ve no time for shenanigans when we’ve a party to be getting organised for. Sure, I’ll not be carrying on with Donal either. It’s the price a fledgling business has to pay.’
Jaysus wept, her mammy didn’t need to be so graphic. Just because they’d had a moment of being on the same page when it came to men didn’t mean she had to take it a step further. She was with Moira, it wasn’t right!
Chapter 20
Roisin and Maureen hauled the suitcases across the deserted car park beneath the apartment building Maureen called home and waited for the lift to take them to her level. Pooh was panting at their side. The door slid open and they shuffled inside, Roisin hoping it wouldn’t jam between floors on account of their being over the weight limit. She couldn’t imagine being stuck in an elevator with her mammy and a poodle for hours on end. It was the stuff of horror films. ‘If these don’t sell, Mammy, you’ll be reimbursing me, you know,’ she said as the lift groaned and creaked its ascent.
‘Have a little faith, Rosi,’ Maureen muttered as she put the case she was holding down.
‘How many have you got coming?’
‘Around thirty-five or so. Mostly women from my line dancing classes, a handful from golf and watercolour class. The bowls ladies weren’t interested because the pants don’t come in white and then of course our foreign friends from the airport are likely bets. I put a sign up at the local library too so we may get a few extras.’
The doors pinged open and they dragged the cases on their final leg to Maureen’s door where there was a momentary panic she’d lost her house keys. She patted down her pockets locating them in the inside pocket of her coat and finally, they were in.
‘We’re conference calling your sisters in twenty minutes,’ Maureen announced, gesturing for Roisin to leave the case alongside where she’d left the other, over by the wall so as they wouldn’t trip over them. She shrugged out of her coat and went to hang it up.
Roisin could detect the familiar scent of Arpège on the air and it made a pleasant change from the poodle smell of the car. She gave the place the once-over looking for evidence of Donal, the man friend as she thought of him, having made himself at home. There were no men’s shoes tucked away on the floor beside the sofa, no discarded jumpers, nothing she could see but, and she shuddered, she hadn’t checked Mammy’s bedroom yet. At least out here though everything was as it had been the last time she’d been over. She saw the wood carved canoe was still in pride of place and shook her head. How her mammy could not see it looked like an ethnic fertility symbol or to put it plainly, a willy, was beyond her. She discarded her coat, rolling her eyes at the thought of the impending phone call. Moira and Aisling’s idea of a conference call would be the pair of them leaning into the phone talking over top of one another as Mammy overrode them both.
‘Don’t leave your coat there, you know where to hang it up,’ Maureen said, reappearing in time to see Roisin tossing it over the back of the sofa. She went and did as she was told before leaning against the worktop to watch as her mammy bustled about the kitchen. While she warmed the dinner she’d put in the microwave for Roisin, Rosi took a moment to observe her. She’d lost weight; the yoga pants had been fit to burst, indecently so the last time she’d seen her. Now, she didn’t feel like screaming, ‘Watch out, Mammy, you’ll have the arse out of those,’ each time she bent over. There was a glow about her too and a lightness to her step. She knew exactly what it was because people had pass-remarked to her how well she was looking since she’d met Shay. They’d even done so when her fringe had been halfway up her forehead after being butchered by her so-called hairdresser friend. It was called being in love. She couldn’t begrudge her mam those happy, warm feelings, she decided but she could begrudge her not letting her go and see the man she’d fallen in love while she was in Dublin.
She pulled her mobile phone out and moved over into the living room area before telephoning Shay to let him know she’d arrived and was at her mammy’s. She felt sixteen years old again as she hatched a plan for him to pick her up at ten o’clock that evening, only this time she wouldn’t be creeping down the stairs when her mammy and dad thought she was tucked up in bed before roaring off on the back of a motorbike! The sound of Shay’s voice, and knowing he was near, perked her up and she even managed to give Pooh a fuss once she’d gotten off the phone.
‘Don’t think I didn’t hear you plotting,’ Maureen said as the microwave pinged.
‘Ah, Mammy, I hardly get to see him as it is and sure by the time, he picks me up, we will have sorted this party of yours out and you’ll be wanting to go to bed.’
‘Our party, Rosi, and fair play to you but you’d better not disappear tomorrow. I want you back here at the crack of dawn.’
‘I won’t. I promise.’ Nine o’clock was plenty early enough, she decided.
‘Make yourself useful and close the curtains would you. I should have done it before I went to pick you up.’
Roisin obliged but as she went to shut the blinds overlooking the balcony, she let out a shriek. ‘Mammy there’s a giant rat on your outdoor furniture. It’s got glowing eyes and it’s staring at me as if it wants to eat me!’
‘Jaysus wept, Roisin. Aisling’s the drama queen not you.’ Maureen moved to where Rosi was shuddering at the spectacle outside. ‘It’s Peaches, you eejit, the Persian next door is all.’
Roisin leaned in close to the window for a better look, her breath leaving a misty patch. ‘It’s got a pom-pom on the end of its tail and around its feet. That’s not normal.’
‘That’s down to her next door, she’s after entering the cat in a competition and she’s aiming for Peaches to take out the title of Supreme Cat.’ Maureen was taking a plate out of the microwave.
‘It frightened me so it did, Mammy.’ Roisin held her hand to her chest. ‘My heart’s still banging away.’ She closed the blinds, not wanting those beady eyes watching her eat her dinner.
Maureen carried the plate over to the table.
‘Is it your homemade pie, Mammy?’ Rosi asked, sitting down in front of the steaming pile of creamy mashed potato and beef mince with baby beans. She was hoping a glass of wine might be offered because she could do with one after the encounter she’d just had. She was in luck, she thought, seeing Mammy open a bottle of red.
‘It is, Rosi.’ She knew the pie was her daughter’s favourite.
Roisin began to tuck in, her earlier horror at her mammy talking about carrying on and the likes forgotten, almost. If she was
still making cottage pie for her with lashings of creamy mashed spud on top, then she was still Mammy. ‘Are you going to pour that or are we just going to admire the bottle?’ She gestured to the wine bottle standing open on the table.
‘I’m letting it breathe, Roisin. Good things take time.’
‘It’ll be time for me to go home by the time you get around to giving me a drink.’ Rosi picked up her glass and held it out.
Maureen sighed, saying something about heathen children as she poured Rosi’s glass. She helped herself too because if you couldn’t beat them you might as well join them.
Rosi cleaned up her plate in no time and washed it up before settling herself on the sofa. Maureen busied herself finding the notepad on which she’d written out a list delegating various tasks between her, Rosi, Aisling and Moira. She checked to see Pooh was happy in his basket and wouldn’t be interrupting their call before glancing at the time. ‘Right, it’s time to phone the girls.’ She sat down next to Rosi so she could lean in and follow the conversation, hearing it ring a couple of times before it was answered.
‘Aisling? It’s your mammy.’ Maureen took charge before Roisin could open her mouth to speak.
‘I know who it is, Mammy. You said you were going to be calling at this time.’
‘Is your sister there?’
‘I’m here, Mammy,’ Moira chimed in before asking, ‘Is Rosi there?’
‘I’m here.’
‘How’re you, Rosi? Good flight was it?’ Moira asked.
‘Grand. A little bumpy ten minutes in mind.’
‘Aisling, Moira, there’ll be plenty of time for chit-chat with your sister later. This is a business call and as such I’ll do the Minutes. I’m after ticking off you’re all present.’
Roisin watched as her mammy did just that.
‘Moira, Aisling, have you a notepad and a pen ready like I asked you?’
‘Yes, Mammy,’ Aisling replied.
‘Good, let’s begin. Moira, you’re going to be our waitress for the evening and I want you to write this down. You’re NOT to go your own way and wear anything that shows your knickers because you’ll put the ladies off their finger food. I want us all in the yoga pants so as to demonstrate their versatility. Did you write that down?’
‘We must all be wearing the yoga pants,’ Moira repeated. ‘To show everybody you can hand out drinks and finger food while wearing them without flashing your knickers.’
Maureen frowned. It was always hard to tell whether Moira was being smart or not. She moved on to Aisling. ‘I’ve you down for working the room, Aisling. You’re going to be our glamour girl.’
‘Mammy, that’s not fair,’ Moira butted in. ‘She’s an old married woman. I should be the glamour girl.’
‘No, Moira, you always look bandy legged to me when you wear the high heels. We want to sell the yoga pants not put people off. Aisling has the knack of walking properly in them and a glamour girl has to wear high heels.’
Roisin snorted which didn’t escape Moira. ‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at John Wayne.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Roisin frowned.
‘If anybody’s getting about the place walking all bandy legged like a cowboy it’s you after you’ve been visiting Shay and doing the r—.’
‘God Almighty, I’ll bang yer heads together, so I will,’ Maureen huffed.
Roisin bit back her retort, given she was in her mammy’s close vicinity and would not be able to duck a cuff around the ear.
Maureen waited a beat, satisfied nobody else would be piping up with any smart-arse remarks. ‘As I said, Aisling, is the glamour girl and I’ll hear no more about it, Moira. Rosi, do you think Aisling will fit the yoga pants, she’s after eating a lot on her holidays?’
‘It was a honeymoon, Mammy and I didn’t eat that much.’ Aisling was indignant.
‘There’s plenty of stretch in them, Mammy,’ Roisin answered, as her and Maureen shared a conspiratorial look, both knowing Aisling was prone to stuffing her face in cold weather. It was a natural defence to it for her.
‘Rosi’s our demonstrator,’ Maureen said, giving the nod to her daughter.
‘On how to walk like a cowboy,’ Moira couldn’t resist adding.
‘Enough!’ Maureen thundered. ‘Rosi will be showing our ladies how you can do the bendy yoga in the pants.’
All three sisters rolled their eyes; they were yoga pants after all.
‘And what will you be doing, Mammy?’ Aisling asked.
Maureen took a big breath and puffed up self-importantly. ‘I, Aisling will be taking down orders, networking and, depending how we go for time, line dancing. Rosi will come food shopping with me in the morning. I’ve a list of what we need, and I expect you two here by four o’clock at the latest to help me make the hors d’oeuvres. Are we all clear?’
‘Ten-four, over and out, Mammy,’ Moira said.
‘Clear, Mammy,’ Aisling said.
Roisin nodded.
‘Alright then, early nights all round tonight. I want you all in top form tomorrow.’
‘Tell that to Rosi, Mammy,’ Moira leapt in.
‘Shut up, Moira! She always has to have the last word, Mammy’
‘Don’t shout in my ear, Roisin,’ Mammy said. ‘I’m having the last word because I’m hanging up now.’
Chapter 21
‘Roisin O’Mara, I said crack of dawn not ten thirty. Sure, it’s nearly lunchtime and you needn’t think you’re coming in. We haven’t got time for cups of tea and cosy chats.’ Maureen stepped outside into the corridor and was about to close the door when Pooh shot through, looking as eager for the off as she was. ‘No, you’re not coming. I’ve the Kenny Rogers playing for you, off you go. Your favourite song’s on after this one. He likes Daytime Friends best,’ she told Roisin, herding the poodle back in through the door. ‘He takes himself off to see if Peaches is on the balcony and gazes out at her while the song plays.’
‘Are you saying he’s got a crush on the pom-pom Persian next door?’ Roisin frowned and she rubbed her temples; her head was already beginning to throb at the thought of the day and evening lying ahead.
‘He’s confused as to what he is, or that’s what I think at least. The vet doesn’t agree but sure how would he know? He’s not Doctor Doolittle. I’m going to have to introduce him to some poodle lady friends. There’s a good-looking girl at the obedience class I take him to but we’re always leaving as they’re arriving.’
‘Star-crossed lovers,’ Roisin muttered and then a thought occurred to her. ‘But he’s been seen to. He’s not interested in that sorta thing anymore.’
‘Roisin, get your mind out of the gutter. Men and women can be friends you know. We’re all partial to a bit of company with the opposite sex now and again. And what’s that on your chin?’
Roisin’s hand went to where her mammy was peering to feel the tender skin there, already knowing the redness her eagle eyes had spotted was from Shay’s in-between beard. He’d stopped shaving a couple of weeks ago and wanted her opinion as to his new look. She liked it but not the rash it had given her. ‘I don’t know, Mammy, maybe I’ve an allergy to something?’ She shrugged.
‘Allergy my arse. I wasn’t born yesterday, now come on with you.’ She marched her daughter over to the lifts. ‘I’m glad to see you’re wearing the pants. It’s free advertising so it is.’
Rosi glanced down at her yoga pants and at her mammy’s. They were like the fecking Bobbsey twins only Mammy’s bottom was definitely bigger than hers. She was beginning to rue the day she’d ever worn the fecking things around her.
They got in the lift and pushed the button to take them down to the apartment’s underground car park. ‘You’re not going to go mad with the food and drink are you, Mammy? Because we’re wanting to be making a profit. I don’t want to go back to London empty handed or out of pocket. I’m planning on putting the money we make toward my yoga studio fund. We can still have this evening nice on a shoestring
.’
Maureen donned her pained expression. ‘Was I, or was I not the proprietor of a highly respected guesthouse, Roisin?’
‘You were but Daddy did the books.’
Maureen made a pooh-poohing noise. ‘We were a team, Rosi.’
The weather as the car nosed out of the car park and out on to the main street was good, with scudding white clouds chasing the pale blue sky. Roisin stared out the window watching the world go by. The seaside hub of Howth was alive with Saturday morning visitors and locals alike, all after a sniff of the sea air she saw as they headed away from it toward the supermarket in Sutton Cross.
Once there, a drama ensued over who had a pound to put in the trolley with Roisin insisting they wouldn’t need much and sure, they could manage with a basket. Maureen was having none of it and she stopped a passer-by and asked if they could change a fiver for her.
Roisin trailed behind her mammy, who was pushing the trolley like a mammy on a mission, with a sinking heart. She watched as she picked up smelly cheeses, crackers, salamis, olives, sundried tomato and the best bacon, all of which she happily tossed in the trolley. She chewed the ear off the young lad working on the deli counter by telling him all about the antipasto skewers and bacon wrapped water chestnuts along with feta cheese stuffed, bell peppers she and Rosi were going to be busy making that afternoon.
If it was up to Roisin, she’d be putting a couple of bowls of crisps and peanuts about the place and softening their guests up with the cheapest cask wine from the off licence. Sure, she’d seen a few empty bottles of good red wine waiting to go out with Mammy’s rubbish. Why couldn’t they pour the vinegar casky stuff into those and save themselves a packet, no one would be any wiser? She envisaged her mammy’s line dancing ladies all smacking their lips over the delicious wine Maureen was after serving and it made her smile.
It was a good idea, she thought, warming to it the more she turned it over in her mind. She decided there was no harm in running it by Mammy.
The Guesthouse on the Green Series Box Set 2 Page 52
