‘Moira! He does not.’ Roisin was cross on Shane’s behalf.
‘You’re always after lowering the tone, Moira. Sure, they’re the sort of lads I wish you girls had brought home when you were younger.’
‘Lads didn’t look like that when I was young, Mammy,’ Roisin lamented. ‘It was the early eighties. They all wore eyeliner and spent longer doing their hair than I did.’
‘Chance would’ve been a fine thing,’ Aisling said. ‘Although, my Quinn could be mistaken for your man Nicky there.’
‘Which one’s he, then?’ Mammy asked.
‘That’s him spinning around and clapping his hands.’
‘Oh yes, I can see a likeness.’
‘I think I had the look of the one on the end there when I was his age,’ Patrick piped up.
‘That’s Mark,’ Roisin supplied. ‘And you didn’t.’
‘Oh, honey, I think you look more like the hottie there on the left. Now he’s cute. What’s his name, Roisin?’ Cindy reached over and stroked Patrick’s arm giving him an eyeful. He preened. It was sickening.
‘Kian, and he doesn’t,’ Roisin tossed over. She was not happy with her brother, not after the conversation she’d overheard at Christmastime. Mammy was not in the money lending business the last time she’d checked, but it hadn’t stopped the entrepreneurial Pat from tapping her for a loan for his latest scheme. She hadn’t said anything to him or Mammy, nor had she mentioned it to her sisters. Aisling for one would go mad. She’d decided to wait until the New Year was over before broaching it with her brother, knowing he’d probably tell her to mind her own business anyway.
‘You’ve a memory like an elephant when it comes to some things, Mammy, and it’s like a sieve when it comes to others.’ Moira shook her head. ‘Do you not remember, Tait? He was the spit of yer man Brian there in the middle. You thought he was lovely.’
‘I do remember, now you mention it. But you chewed him up and spat him out like you did most of your boyfriends, poor love. He was heartbroken so he was.’
‘Mammy, he was not! It was him that broke up with me on account of his being gay.’
‘I can’t hear Shane,’ Roisin wailed.
‘What I want to know is does Shay know you have a thing for Shane Fillan?’ Moira asked.
‘I do not have a thing for Shane Fillan, sure I’m old enough to be his mammy.’
‘You’d have been a teen mom,’ Cindy volunteered, frowning as she tried to do the math. She reverted to using her fingers to count.
‘But you’re my mummy not his.’ Noah was huffy at the thought of sharing.
‘I know that, son, it’s just a figure of speech.’
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘Shush,’ Aisling said. ‘This is the best bit when Mark Feehilly does his solo bit.’
‘Jesus wept, would you look at the dimples on him! I bet his mammy’s sitting at home there in Sligo crying buckets watching him on the television. Aisling, you had a lovely voice, why didn’t you and your girlfriends get together and do something like this. Sure, I could have been sitting here watching you now.’
‘The Spice Girls beat them to it, Mammy,’ Moira said. ‘One Ginger Spice in the world is more than enough.’
‘Don’t be speaking with your mouthful, Moira. God above, you’ve the manners of a heathen.’
‘I might have done if they’d let me be in the choir at St Theresa’s,’ Aisling pointed out.
‘Not even my porter cake held any sway with the choir mistress. You can’t say I didn’t try, Aisling, and the woman was tone deaf in my opinion.’
‘Mammy, you tried bribing half of Dublin with your porter cake. Remember when Patrick didn’t make the hurling team and Moira wanted to be head girl because she thought she’d be able to do what she liked at school?’ Roisin said.
‘And don’t forget you, you heffalump, when you failed your ballet exam,’ Patrick shot across the room.
A grand debate ensued as to whether or not Maureen O’Mara had attempted to bribe Dublin officialdom in order to advance her children. Meanwhile the song drew to a close with none of the O’Mara family having heard a word of it. The boy band was bowing by the time Mammy looked back at the television and insisted everybody clap.
‘Ow! Ooh, it stings, it burns.’
‘Aisling, I nearly spilled my drink. What are you carrying on about?’ Roisin asked.
‘I got salt in my cold sore.’
Mammy stood up then. She went into the kitchen and retrieved a teaspoon which she used to tap the side of her wine glass. Once they’d all quieted down, she went red in the face and blurted, ‘I want you all to know I have a man friend.’
Aisling forgot all about the stinging of her cold sore and Maureen was grateful when the phone rang. It was Carol inviting her to come and see her all dressed up in her finery. She hung up grateful to make a get-away before they all came to their senses and started firing questions at her like she was a teenager going on her first date.
Five Hours Until Midnight...
‘TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, Carol, I was glad to escape. You should have seen their faces. They looked just like they did when I told them Father Christmas had been on the telephone to say that he’d not be calling on the O’Mara children come Christmas Day unless they started listening to their mammy and doing as they were told.’ Maureen perched on the edge of the bed. She was over her shock at the sight of all those sequins and had been very impressed with Carol’s false eyelashes.
‘They’ll get over it, Maureen. That’s the hard part done now.’
‘No, I don’t think it is, Carol. If I’m honest I almost wanted them to be outraged so as I’d have a reason not to see him again. Brian’s all around me you see and I can’t help but feel happy one minute and terribly guilty the next.
