‘Hello there,’ Maureen called and the woman turned, a little startled at the voice, but managed to hold her cup and saucer steady. She beamed as she spied Pooh.
‘Hello. Is he a standard poodle?’ Her voice had a lilt which was a curious mix of Irish and American and she had the most arresting eyes. They were almost bottle green in colour.
‘He is.’ Maureen bought him up short; he was desperate to go and introduce himself but she didn’t trust him not to send the tea flying.
‘How lovely. I used to have one of those. His name was Fred. Dear old fellow.’
‘Well this is erm, Pooh, I wasn’t responsible for naming him.’
‘Hello there, Pooh. I take it your named after the bear.’
‘I like to think so.’ Given the poodle had been named by toddlers who’d probably not long been toilet trained she wasn’t so sure.
‘Could I give him a pat?’
‘Certainly, he loves the attention, so he does, just watch him though he has a tendency to be a bit too friendly with the womenfolk. I’d put your cup down first if I were you.’
‘Ah, Fred was like that too. He had a thing for all my female friends. A bit like one of my ex-husbands!’ She tossed her head back and laughed in a throaty manner that told Maureen she would have been a high-spirited woman in her day. She liked the look of her and wouldn’t mind whiling away a half hour or so chatting with her.
‘I might join you in a cup of tea if you don’t mind. I’m Maureen O’Mara.’
‘I’m Carol but here in Dublin I’m known by Pandora. It was my stage name many years ago when I had an act called Pandora’s Box. Are you the proprietor?’
‘Your stage name you say? Now, that sounds interesting. I trod the boards once so I did, everybody said I made a grand monkey, I wanted to be Dorothy of course but Eva Carney always got the starring roles. I think it was on account of her da being the local bank manager.’ Maureen tapped the side of her nose, ‘Money talks. And, I’m the former proprietor, my daughter, Aisling, manages O’Mara’s these days. You would have met her when you checked in.’ Maureen brought Pooh over and watched in amazement as instead of beginning a full-frontal assault he sniffed Carol’s hand before sitting down at her feet panting happily as she began to pet him.
‘Ah, the pretty girl with all that wonderful strawberry blonde hair and of course I don’t mind, please, join me. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?’ she cooed to Pooh.
‘He’s not. Not normally anyway, you’ve got the magic touch. And, yes, that’s Aisling, although she could do with getting her hair trimmed, it looks ratty like she’s been gnawing on the ends but will she listen to her mammy? No, she will not. I even offered to do it for her, just a little trim I said, but she said she might as well stick a bowl on her head and be done with it if she were to let me near her with a pair of scissors.’ Maureen set about making her tea. ‘I used to cut my children’s hair when they were little; I’ve four of them and I told her it was all the fashion when she was a child. They all had the bowl cut so they did. Do you have children?’ Maureen retrieved a china cup and saucer and chose an Earl Grey sachet. She put the teabag in her cup while she waited for the jug to boil.
‘Yes, one daughter. Sarah. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years. We’re chalk and cheese. She can be very...’ she cast around for the right word.
Maureen could see in the way she held her hands and the expression on her face that she would make a very good actress indeed. She had, what was the word? Presence that was it.
‘...Disapproving,’ Carol finally offered up. ‘But she’s been very good organising this trip back to Dublin and the celebration for my birthday tonight.’
‘Your birthday you say, well, many happy returns to you.’ The jug clicked off and Maureen poured the water into her cup and waited for the tea to steep.
‘It’s tomorrow but as of midnight I turn eighty. I can hardly believe it, eighty! I’m celebrating in style tonight.’
Maureen could quite believe she would be. Satisfied the colour was just right she dropped the teabag in the bin and gave the brew a stir before carrying it over to the sofa and sitting down next to Carol. ‘I’d love to hear what your plans are.’
Carol smiled at her and there was a decided twinkle in her eye. ‘I’m going back to where it all began, my dear, because I’ve decided it’s time my daughter knew exactly where I started out, and let me tell you, it wasn’t in a starring role on Broadway.’
Six hours until midnight...
IN THE O’MARA FAMILY’S apartment on the top floor of the Georgian guesthouse the whole clan had gathered, pet gerbil included. Maureen and Pooh had left their new friend Carol so she could go and get ready for her evening which promised to be a mighty craic. It had been a tonic to confide in her as to what was playing on her mind, Maureen thought. Much more satisfying than the confession with Father Fitzpatrick had been. She’d made Carol promise to show her her outfit before she left for the club. As for their evening, plans had been
