The Stone House by Marita Conlon-Mckenna Page A

Cusack as her First Year head!
    â€˜Come on, smile! You look lovely!’
    Moya didn’t think anyone would ever believe they were sisters, they all were so different except up closearound their full lower lips and the wide spacing of their varied coloured eyes. She hoped to God Romy wouldn’t be depending on her to mind her as she wasn’t having a first-year trailing around the school corridors after her.
    â€˜That’s it!’ Maeve smiled, putting down the camera. ‘A perfect photo of my three beautiful daughters.’
    Romy looked all wired up, pale under her freckles and nervous. Her uniform skirt was too big and too long, right down to her knees as her mother had insisted on allowing space for growing. She had Kate’s outgrown jumper and a crisp new white shirt and an impressively huge new schoolbag, which weighed a ton.
    Cora and Ciara had been standing patiently at the gate waiting for them during their mother’s shenanigans with the camera.
    â€˜Morning, girls,’ yoohooed Maeve, waving to them. Cora felt relieved that their mother never bothered taking the family camera from out of the kitchen cabinet where it had been thrown a few years ago. ‘Doesn’t Romy look wonderful – a real St Dominic’s girl!’
    Moya wished her mother wouldn’t make such a big thing over an everyday occurrence. She grabbed Romy, pushing her towards the gate.
    â€˜Now you two remember to look out for your sister and help her if she needs it and Romy, I’ll be waiting to hear how you got on.’
    As the autumn days got shorter Maeve Dillon pushed the buggy through the falling leaves and around Rossmore, baby Sean, snug in a cosy zip-up pram suit, complimented and admired by all who knew her. Hehad lost the delicate look and was becoming a smaller sturdy version of his father. She was still tired with the lack of sleep and night feeding but at long last felt she had turned the corner and despite her age was enjoying motherhood again. Her sister Vonnie had been on to her about going to Dublin to do a bit of shopping.
    â€˜Come on, Maeve, you haven’t a stitch of clothes for the winter! You know Brendan Butler will invite you and Frank to the Fianna Fail fundraiser, and then you’ve got the Council’s dinner dance. What are you going to wear to them? Buying a few new things will give you a boost and besides, I want to go to Dublin to get a new coat and a pair of winter boots for myself.’
    â€˜What about the baby?’
    â€˜Maeve, we’re not trucking the baby with us. When was the last time you had a day out on your own? Think of yourself, for a change! Frank and the girls will be well able to mind him.’
    It was tempting, the thought of a day away, shopping, trying on shoes, getting some new make-up, seeing the latest style.
    â€˜We’ll treat ourselves to lunch in Mitchell’s. What do you say?’
    Maeve could feel the smile spread all over her face as she said, ‘Yes, please.’
    Moya looked at the list her mother had left: times for bottles, instructions for changing, teething gel, and what to feed the baby with at lunchtime and at teatime. It looked easy enough. Sean was getting to be such a good baby that he was no bother at all. He had a touchof a snuffly cold so her mother had expressly forbidden her to take him out for a walk.
    â€˜I’m going out,’ called her father, grabbing his car keys. ‘I’ve got to see Ray O’Carroll about the few outhouses and acres he wants to sell between here and Woodstown.’
    â€˜Daddy, you promised to stay home and help with the baby.’
    â€˜Listen, I won’t be too long. I’ll have to have coffee and a chat with him. It’s a site with good potential and Martin and I feel if we got the right planning permission through we could build about a dozen houses on it.’
    â€˜Can I go with you?’ pleaded Romy, getting up to follow