The stairs creaked as she headed up the last flight to the family’s apartment. Home, she thought, pushing the door open and hearing her youngest sister shrieking, ‘Get that fecking dog away from me, Mammy, I mean it!’ Yes, she was home.
Chapter 9
Roisin walked into a scene whereby Pooh had Moira trapped up against the kitchen worktop and Aisling was bent double laughing as she said, ‘Your face, I wish I had a camera.’ Maureen was already ensconced on the sofa like the Queen Mother and was patting her leg trying to get Pooh to come hither. ‘Mammy, if you don’t get off your arse and get him off me right now, I’m not going to let you have any dessert.’
‘What is it?’
‘A New York cheesecake, Marks and Spencer’s.’
‘Ah now, Moira, that’s not fair. You know the New York one is my favourite.’
‘Well, sort your dog! Stop licking me you, you... and you can stop laughing.’ That was aimed at Aisling.
‘Rosi! How’re you?’ Aisling got to her sister first for a hello hug. They were elbowed aside by Maureen as she took action, taking Pooh by his collar and steering him into the living room towards a bed identical to the one at her apartment.
Roisin and Moira embraced and then Roisin stood back looking from sister to sister. ‘You’re both looking really well.’
‘It’s because we’re getting some.’
‘I heard that!’ Maureen said sitting back down.
Roisin laughed. ‘Well all the riding obviously agrees with you both.’ The banter made her think of Shay but she vanquished him by staring at the red onion Moira had been slicing into for the salad before the Pooh assault. She didn’t want to be caught out by her eagle-eyed sisters, one grilling from Mammy had been quite enough!
Maureen made them all jump by shrieking, ‘Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, four hundred and fifty pound for the privilege of swanning about in your nightie.’ She was holding up one of Aisling’s glossy fashion mags and on inspection the model pouting at the camera did look like she was in her nightie, Roisin decided. A nice one, but still a nightie.
Moira muttered, ‘I don’t think you are in a position to comment on the world of fashion because the last time I checked, pants that could stop the blood supply to your bits were not in vogue. Where did you get them from and who told you they looked good?’
Roisin and Aisling sniggered waiting for Moira to get told off but Mammy hadn’t heard—she was too busy flicking the pages of the magazine.
‘They are on the snug side,’ Aisling said, and Moira snorted.
‘Snug? Sure, I can see what she had for breakfast. One wrong move and she’ll have the arse out of them. How could you let her out of the house, Rosi? It’s disgraceful so it is.’
‘When did anyone ever talk Mammy out of anything?’
‘True.’ Her sisters nodded, each lost in their own recollections of run-ins with their headstrong mammy.
Roisin explained to them both how their mammy had come to be wearing yoga pants a couple of sizes too small for her, getting a sympathetic tut from them both at the way she’d hustled them off her. ‘She pinched my new teal River Island sweater the other week. It’ll be all baggy around the boobs by the time I get it back,’ Moira moaned.
‘Well, all I can say is watch your knickers girls, she’s on about giving the thong a whirl.’
‘Ewww!’ The pair of them grimaced.
‘What are you lot on about in there?’
‘Nothing, Mammy.’
Noah burst through the door at that moment, bouncing in to give his aunties a cuddle before taking a great big gulp of air to begin another round of the gerbil chronicles.
Roisin helped herself to two glasses of the red Aisling was obviously enjoying, given the purple stain on her lips. She saw the glass of Coke fizzing on the bench by the salad the pair of them were in the throes of tossing together. Moira was still on the wagon then, she thought approvingly, hoping Noah didn’t spot it. He’d be like one of those old Alvin and the Chipmunks records if he got stuck into the fizz. She carried the wine over to the sofa and handing Mammy the long-stemmed glass she plonked down next to her. ‘Something smells good, doesn’t it?’ She took a sip, savouring the aroma as Moira opened the oven to check on the contents, sending a thick garlicky aroma wafting over.
‘Moira’s on dinner and she’ll tell you she’s after making it from scratch but don’t believe a word of it. I saw the box in the bin. It’s a Marks and Spencer’s family sized lasagne. I hope it’s not too heavy on the garlic,’ Maureen sniffed. ‘Garlic gives me reflux.’ She patted her chest.
Roisin smiled, not about the reflux because a windy Mammy was nothing to smile about, but at Moira’s lack of prowess in the kitchen despite Mammy’s best efforts to teach her how to cook over the years. Ah well, so long as she got fed, she didn’t care what was put in front of her. The walk along the pier had left her ravenous. She enjoyed a few more sips of wine and then, as Noah moseyed over with a piece of garlic bread in his hand, she got up to see if she could snaffle a piece.
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Aisling slapped her hand. ‘I only gave it to Noah to stop him going on about that Mr Nibbles of his. He told me we’ll get the privilege of actually meeting him when you come and stay on Christmas Eve. I can’t wait.’
‘It was Colin’s big idea to get him a gerbil.’
‘Always said he was a chinless feck,’ Moira piped up.
‘Shush. Big ears are always flapping,’
‘Whose Noah’s or Mammy’s?’ Aisling asked.
‘Both.’ Roisin leaned against the kitchen counter. ‘Guess what happened when we went for a walk down the pier with Pooh this afternoon.’
As Moira began
