Noah had yet another glass of lemonade plonked in front of him and was managing the late hour well, even if he did look like his eyes were being held open by matchsticks. Cindy for once had opted for a white wine spritzer which, given she’d sniffed her way through her meal, was making her giggly. The sight of her jiggling assets was causing several male patrons to receive swift retribution under the table from their female dining companions.
‘Now then, before you disappear, what are your resolutions, lads?’ Maureen raised her voice above the din of excited chatter all around them. To her relief when she’d gone back upstairs after waving Carol off nobody had said a word about anything. They’d obviously had a big powwow and decided the best course of action was to say nothing. Well, that was fine by her. She knew her children inside and out and they’d put it aside for tonight but they would not be able to leave it alone for long. In the meantime, she retrieved the page she’d ripped out of a magazine. ‘Because I brought this along.’ She opened it up and smoothed it on the table, ‘It’s an article on the ten most popular New Year’s Resolutions,’ she explained. ‘I’m going to write everybody’s resolutions down and add any from the magazine article I think would do you good.’ This time she was all business as she produced a notebook and pen. ‘And then, in three months, I’m going to quiz you all to see how you’re getting on with sticking to them.’
‘Jaysus, give me strength.’ Moira rolled her eyes.
‘Quinn, you can go first.’ Aisling volunteered him.
Her other half looked pensive, while Aisling looked expectant. Quinn knew it was one of those defining moments whereby if he said the right thing, he might get to see the new year in with a bang but get it wrong and, he mentally shook his head, it didn’t bear thinking about. He chewed his bottom lip, stalling, and then decided to go all out in what his soon-to-be wife called the fecky brown-noser stakes. ‘My resolution is to enjoy every second of my wedding because I want to remember it for the rest of my days.’ Score! he thought, seeing Aisling’s eyes shine but then checking out her lip he wondered if he might catch whatever it was. Best he get back to work, he decided, taking his leave.
All eyes moved to Tom. He’d gotten up from his seat having spotted a table in need of clearing. Moira’s hand had taken the opportunity to grope his backside ‘Um, to study more.’ Moira’s hand dropped. Uh-oh, he thought, scrabbling for the correct answer. ‘Can I have two?’
‘You can.’ Maureen looked up from her scribbling to nod graciously as though she were a judge presiding over her court.
‘Well, my second resolution is to spend more time with my gorgeous girlfriend here.’ The hand went back to the buttock and he got a squeeze of approval.
‘Isn’t that a little hypocritical?’ Aisling asked. ‘How are you going to study more if you’re spending more time with Moira?’
Tom didn’t stick around to answer her.
‘Now then, Shay, you’re on.’ Maureen pointed her pen at him.
‘Ah, that’s easy. To spend as much time with my grandad as I can.’
Roisin raised her glass to him. She knew how much his grandad, with whom he’d only recently reconnected and who was terminally ill, meant to him and, as much as she’d have liked to, there would be no hands on the bottom with her new paramour, not while her son was in their vicinity.
Shay winked at Roisin and said he had to go and warm up his fiddle.
Roisin grinned at him like an idiot and he grinned back at her, also looking like a lovelorn idiot, but Moira broke the spell.
‘Christ on a bike, Rosie, warm up my fiddle? Talk about inuendo. Your man’s all class so he is,’ she said, watching him take his leave and begin to weave his way around the tables to the stage.
‘What’s inuendo?’ Noah asked as Roisin glared at her sister. ‘And what’s Shay’s fiddle like, Mummy? I haven’t seen one before. Is it a big instrument?’
Moira went puce trying not to laugh and Roisin’s wine went down the wrong way.
‘What do you do with a fiddle anyway?’
That was the end of Moira and Aisling had to slap Roisin on the back and pass her a glass of water. While she was trying to compose herself, Maureen intervened, glaring at both of them before ruffling her grandson’s hair. ‘Sure, Noah, don’t mind those two eejits. You go on up to the stage, and ask if you can have a look at his fiddle. Shay won’t mind.’
It was all the excuse Noah needed to get out of his seat and have a wander about.
‘Alasdair? Your turn.’
‘I’m going to learn how to speak French.’
Maureen clapped her hands delightedly. ‘I do like a French accent.’
‘Mon amour,’ he cooed, getting up from his seat and blowing her a kiss goodbye.
‘Bonjour,’ Maureen simpered back in her Irish accent.
‘It’s au revoir, Mammy,’ Roisin supplied, having sorted herself out.
Maureen ignored her. ‘Now then, Patrick, what have you to say for yourself?’
He told them he’d like to eat at home more and Cindy resolved to learn how to cook.
‘What about spending more time with your family? It’s number four on my list here,’ Maureen stabbed at the magazine page.
‘I’m here now, Mammy,’ Patrick replied.
‘I’m still putting it on my list.’ Maureen made a show of writing it down.
‘I’m going next, Mammy,’ Moira said. ‘I resolve to stay off the sauce for another year.’
‘Good for you,’ her sisters chorused.
‘Very good, Moira, but I think we’ll add that you need
