‘Go home and finish off what you started.’
Lily opened her mouth to protest.
‘Home!’ Mona repeated. Her eyes suddenly dropped to her daughter’s feet, and she sucked her breath in angrily. ‘Ahhh . . . don’t tell me you’ve come outside wearin’ the good slippers . . .’
A short while later the two women were sitting in Sophie’s kitchen drinking a cup of tea, and sharing a small plate of plain biscuits since it was too early for cake or chocolate biscuits.
‘It’s been one hell of a mornin’ so far, I can tell you,’ Mona stated.
‘What’s happened?’ Sophie said, hoping that her sister-in-law wouldn’t start on about the skirt for the wedding again, as she still hadn’t got around to fixing it.
‘The men,’ Mona said, ‘and the Ballygrace business rearin’ its head again.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know they’re already plannin’ another visit to Ireland? Pat mentioned that he wouldn’t mind a wee trip over this summer.’
‘Summer?’ Sophie said vaguely.
‘Summer, no less.’ Mona confirmed. ‘And here’s me workin’ my knuckles to the bone to pay for Christmas, and the good lad’s already plannin’ ahead for another trip over the water.’
‘Are you sure?’ Sophie said. ‘I can’t remember Fintan mentioning anything about the summer.’
‘Sophie,’ Mona said impatiently, ‘would I be tellin’ you if I wasn’t sure? D’you think I imagined it all or made it all up?’ She paused, her eyes ominiously wide. ‘Take it from me, there’s plans afoot for another trip on their own, and as sure as hell that will put paid to any plans I had for Butlins or a caravan holiday – just like the summer that’s gone.’
‘They’ve asked us to go with them before,’ Sophie reminded her. ‘Last summer they said you and me could go if we wanted, and we said we didn’t fancy another wet summer in Ireland with four to a room and no inside toilets and everything. They also suggested me and you could go to Galway, Pat says it’s about time you had a trip back home. You haven’t been for a few years.’
‘That’s not the point . . .’ Mona blustered.
‘That was when we actually told them to go on their own without us – in fact you were the one that insisted,’ Sophie added for good measure.
Mona took a drink of her tea and a small bite of the Rich Tea biscuit. ‘I know . . . I know,’ she said, clearly irritated by Sophie’s easy-ozey attitude and too-good memory at the wrong times. ‘But I thought they were only goin’ back to help the old couple and Joe out on the farm . . . I didn’t expect them to start buyin’ new clothes and go out gallivantin’ at night.’
Sophie laughed now. ‘Gallivanting?’ she said. ‘I don’t think there’s much fear of them going gallivanting in Ballygrace! Sure, it’s only a one-horse town . . .’
‘Ah, but there’s plenty of dances and that kind of thing in all the surrounding places,’ Mona informed her, her eyes now gazing out of the window. ‘Don’t be so easily fooled, Sophie . . . you have to keep a close eye on the men, especially when they’re getting haircuts and buyin’ themselves casual shirts and everything.’ She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘They don’t get all dickeyed up in new casual shirts for shovelling dung on the farm.’
Lily made a loud slurping noise with her stripey straw in the lemonade, her eyes darting from her aunt frying at the cooker back to both girls seated opposite her at the table. ‘I’m sorry for waking youse both up . . . I didn’t realise you were out so late. Were you awful tired?’ she asked now in on overly concerned tone. There was only three hours left now until the country dancing, and she was desperate to get one or both of the girls on board.
Kirsty swallowed the bite of bacon she was eating. ‘Of course I was tired,’ she said in a high voice, ‘and so would you be tired if you were dancing and singing on the stage for half the night,
Lily opened her mouth to protest.
‘Home!’ Mona repeated. Her eyes suddenly dropped to her daughter’s feet, and she sucked her breath in angrily. ‘Ahhh . . . don’t tell me you’ve come outside wearin’ the good slippers . . .’
A short while later the two women were sitting in Sophie’s kitchen drinking a cup of tea, and sharing a small plate of plain biscuits since it was too early for cake or chocolate biscuits.
‘It’s been one hell of a mornin’ so far, I can tell you,’ Mona stated.
‘What’s happened?’ Sophie said, hoping that her sister-in-law wouldn’t start on about the skirt for the wedding again, as she still hadn’t got around to fixing it.
‘The men,’ Mona said, ‘and the Ballygrace business rearin’ its head again.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know they’re already plannin’ another visit to Ireland? Pat mentioned that he wouldn’t mind a wee trip over this summer.’
‘Summer?’ Sophie said vaguely.
‘Summer, no less.’ Mona confirmed. ‘And here’s me workin’ my knuckles to the bone to pay for Christmas, and the good lad’s already plannin’ ahead for another trip over the water.’
‘Are you sure?’ Sophie said. ‘I can’t remember Fintan mentioning anything about the summer.’
‘Sophie,’ Mona said impatiently, ‘would I be tellin’ you if I wasn’t sure? D’you think I imagined it all or made it all up?’ She paused, her eyes ominiously wide. ‘Take it from me, there’s plans afoot for another trip on their own, and as sure as hell that will put paid to any plans I had for Butlins or a caravan holiday – just like the summer that’s gone.’
‘They’ve asked us to go with them before,’ Sophie reminded her. ‘Last summer they said you and me could go if we wanted, and we said we didn’t fancy another wet summer in Ireland with four to a room and no inside toilets and everything. They also suggested me and you could go to Galway, Pat says it’s about time you had a trip back home. You haven’t been for a few years.’
‘That’s not the point . . .’ Mona blustered.
‘That was when we actually told them to go on their own without us – in fact you were the one that insisted,’ Sophie added for good measure.
Mona took a drink of her tea and a small bite of the Rich Tea biscuit. ‘I know . . . I know,’ she said, clearly irritated by Sophie’s easy-ozey attitude and too-good memory at the wrong times. ‘But I thought they were only goin’ back to help the old couple and Joe out on the farm . . . I didn’t expect them to start buyin’ new clothes and go out gallivantin’ at night.’
Sophie laughed now. ‘Gallivanting?’ she said. ‘I don’t think there’s much fear of them going gallivanting in Ballygrace! Sure, it’s only a one-horse town . . .’
‘Ah, but there’s plenty of dances and that kind of thing in all the surrounding places,’ Mona informed her, her eyes now gazing out of the window. ‘Don’t be so easily fooled, Sophie . . . you have to keep a close eye on the men, especially when they’re getting haircuts and buyin’ themselves casual shirts and everything.’ She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘They don’t get all dickeyed up in new casual shirts for shovelling dung on the farm.’
Lily made a loud slurping noise with her stripey straw in the lemonade, her eyes darting from her aunt frying at the cooker back to both girls seated opposite her at the table. ‘I’m sorry for waking youse both up . . . I didn’t realise you were out so late. Were you awful tired?’ she asked now in on overly concerned tone. There was only three hours left now until the country dancing, and she was desperate to get one or both of the girls on board.
Kirsty swallowed the bite of bacon she was eating. ‘Of course I was tired,’ she said in a high voice, ‘and so would you be tired if you were dancing and singing on the stage for half the night,
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