‘Mummy?’ Noah got up spying his mother skulking back into the room. ‘I need to change the newspaper for Mr Nibbles.’ He turned his attention to his nana who was putting a few biscuits on a plate. ‘He did lots of poo on the plane because he was frightened, Nana.’
Roisin had a horrible feeling her son had developed a fixation when it came to his gerbil’s motions and that everyone as well as their uncle would have heard about Mr Nibble’s way of demonstrating his fear of flying by the time the day was done. ‘I told Pooh that he has to be kind to him too because that’s what you have to do when someone’s smaller and weaker than you and I don’t want poor Mr Nibbles to do any more poo.’
He’d obviously been paying attention to the Stop Bullying talk his classroom had had the other week then, Roisin deduced. It was a pity he didn’t have quite the same aptitude to listening when it came to the rest of his schoolwork.
‘Neither do I, thanks very much, and Noah get him off my table.’ Maureen gave the cage a push nudging it precariously close to the edge ‘That’s my best lace cloth you’ve got that filthy thing on.’ She looked over at Roisin with her lips pursed disapprovingly and her eyes raked over her daughter, coming to a halt when they reached her pants. ‘Those are nice. They look ever so comfy, especially around your middle.’ She patted her own to emphasise her point.
‘They’re only yoga pants, Mammy. I’ve tons of pairs. I live in them when I’m not working.’ Roisin looked down at the soft, black stretchy synthetic material. They had a folded over waistband that sat on her hips and the leg was bootcut. They were comfortable and her go-to most days. Her days of trying to play the corporate wife, and not very successfully at that, were done. There was a glint in her mammy’s eyes that made her wary of the sudden interest in her pants. She did a quick count trying to remember how many pairs she’d brought with her so she’d know if any went missing. Three, she’d brought three with her. She knew her mammy had developed a penchant for slacks because Aisling and Moira had filled her in on the fisherman pants she was so fond of, although she’d yet to see them for herself. Moira had also been horrified by the amount she spent on a pair of travel trousers for their trip. Mammy’s reasoning had been that she’d needed all the pockets her whizz bang, quick dry pants afforded her. Moira reckoned she was on a mission to burn through the family inheritance.
‘Yoga pants you say. Well I never. Turn around and give us a look at the back.’
Against her better judgment, Roisin did as she was told.
‘Oh, Roisin, they give your bottom ever such a lovely shape. It looks like a peach so it does. Have they secret lift properties in them?’
‘My bum doesn’t need any secret lifting, thank you.’ She craned her neck over her shoulder trying to cop a look at her peach in case things had dropped since she’d last checked.
‘Well, I think they must do because I know your backside as well as I know the back of my hand and it was never that perky. Do you think they’d do the same for mine?’ Maureen was fixated with Roisin’s rear.
‘Jaysus, Mammy, listen to you and stop staring.’ She turned around.
Mammy was unapologetic she had a one-track mind at times and this was one of those times. ‘They’re not just for the bendy yoga stuff, then? You can wear them just because they’re super soft and stretchy but look smart at the same time.’
‘Yes, I wear them all the time for casual.’ Roisin was wearing a white top and had a denim jacket in her suitcase she liked to teem with it but today had been definite coat and scarf weather. She lived in trainers these days too, unlike her sisters who were far more likely to be found compensating for their height with ridiculously high heels. She’d given up the ghost, accepting the crick in her neck from looking up when speaking to those blessed with average height as her lot. Aisling in particular was obsessed with the stiletto and maintained she had no need of the gym because her legs got an intensive workout everyday thanks to her choice of footwear. Any chance she got she’d be flashing you her calves and saying, ‘Sure just look at the muscle tone.’
‘And you’ve tons of pairs you say?’
Roisin saw too late where this was headed.
‘Then you won’t mind letting your dear old mammy try a pair on, now will you?’ She lifted her sweater and showed Roisin the roll of flesh spilling over the top of her black chinos. ‘They’re cutting me in half so they are.’
‘Put it away, Mammy. You’ll give Noah nightmares.’
‘Nana, have you got some newspaper, please?’ Noah was oblivious to his nana exposing herself.
‘I’ll be right with you once your mammy fetches her spare yoga pants for me.’
Roisin knew the look she was currently on the receiving end of. It was a look that said you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Or, in this case—you get me the pants and I won’t kick up about the gerbil.
She went and got the pants.
Chapter 7
‘You’ll find the old newspapers in the bottom cupboard of the sideboard,’ Maureen said, snatching the black pants off Roisin before she changed her mind. ‘I’ll just go and slide
