‘No, of course you wouldn’t,’ Hilary snipped, sarcastically.
‘What do you mean by that?’ Bronagh forgot her resolve of only moments earlier.
‘Well, honestly, Bronagh, sometimes I don’t know who’s more reliant on who. It can’t be easy for that fellow of yours always playing the third wheel. Nobody loves a martyr, you know.’
Bronagh was indignant but managed to keep her voice down. ‘I’m not and he’s not the third wheel! And Kevin thinks the world of Mam for your information. I think you’ve a bare faced cheek criticising me when you never lift a finger to help.’
‘I’ve my family to be thinking of. They’ve got to come first. You’ve let Mam become reliant on you, Bronagh. There were other options for the times she’s poorly but you insisted on managing her care on your own.’
‘Because she’s our Mam and I don’t want a stranger looking after her.’
They’d reached an impasse and the ensuing silence was deafening. Bronagh, whose heart was thudding from the altercation, could hear the theme tune of whatever programme Hilary and George were watching being played, despite the television being in the living room and her sister standing in the hall. She decided to come right out with it and say what she’d intended to say at the beginning of their conversation. ‘Like I said, Hilary, I don’t want a stranger looking after her and Kevin’s asked me to go to Donegal with him to meet his family so, how’re you fixed to have Mammy come and stay with you for the last weekend of this month? I’ve looked into it and there’s a bus I can see her onto that leaves Dublin at two o’clock on the Friday afternoon.’
‘But how would she get to the station, you’d be at work wouldn’t you?’ Hilary shot back.
‘It’s all sorted. I’ve asked Maureen O’Mara my employer if I could leave a few hours early on the Friday and she said it’s not a bother.’ She could visualise her sister’s face working as she tried to find a reason as to why it wouldn’t work. She had to come up with something that wouldn’t put her in a bad light because Hilary was all about keeping up appearances and being seen to do the right thing. She’d hate for anybody to think she left the care of their mam solely to Bronagh, even if she did seem to think Bronagh had foisted that role on herself. This was why she wasn’t going to make it easy for her. She was Mam’s daughter too and she could jolly well pull her weight.
‘The last weekend in November you say?’ Hilary said.
‘Yes. It’s all arranged.’ Bronagh wasn’t giving her an inch. ‘Kev’s family’s expecting us and Mammy is due to see you and the children. It would save you all piling up to Dublin for a visit now, wouldn’t it?’
Hilary would be choking on her G&T. ‘Well, I’d have to check with George of course.’
‘Of course. Why don’t you ask him now? You said you were still up. It will save you having to phone me back.’ She pictured her sister, red-faced, steam coming out her ears.
‘Give me a moment.’
Bronagh heard the clatter of the phone being put down on the hall table and then voices at a muffled distance. She shifted from foot to foot waiting for her sister to come back on the line and say whatever she was going to say.
Hilary’s tone was clipped when she finally picked up the phone. ‘George and I have had a chat and yes, that will be fine.’
‘Grand.’ She wouldn’t say thanks. Myrna was her mam too, why should she? ‘I’ll talk to her about it in the morning. She’ll be excited to have a holiday and to see you and George and the children. I’ll let you get back to your supper then. Give my love to George and the children.’
She hung up before Hilary could get a word in, not wanting any more cross words between them and put the phone back in its cradle. She had a bubbling sense of excitement she knew would make it tricky for her to sleep. It was going to happen! She was going to Donegal to meet Kev’s family. She’d have to think about what she was going to take to wear because she wanted to make the best impression she could, especially on his mam because she knew he doted on her. She was nervous too, determined they like her because Kevin had been talking about their future lately and she had a feeling a proposal might be on the cards. She already knew she’d say yes if it was forthcoming.
Chapter 23
‘How many more of these fecky skewer things do I have to make?’ Roisin moaned from where she was stationed at the worktop in the kitchen, threading cheese, olives and fancy thin slivers of ham called prosciutto onto bamboo skewers. She was sick of looking at the things and feeling sick from the number of olives she’d snaffled when Mammy wasn’t looking. She was partial to the green fruit and hadn’t been able to help herself.
‘Until you’ve used everything we bought for the skewers up. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you stuffing your face, so,’ Maureen batted back from her end of the work station where she was artfully arranging crackers on her cheese board.
Roisin marvelled over her all-seeing ability.
They had an hour until they needed to head down to the church hall to set up for the party. Kenny Rogers was crooning softly in the background. Pooh was curled up in his basket, occasionally venturing out to investigate what they were doing in the hope a piece of meat might come his way—with the price of the prosciutto he was fat out of luck. When nothing was forthcoming, he’d mooch over to the doors leading to the deck to see if Peaches
