‘Well,’ Rosamunde said. ‘I’d best be getting off home, I’ve a million and one done things to do and you know how useless Terry is. The last time I left him in charge on a Saturday, I got home and he’d tossed a sheet over the kitchen table and made it into a tent for the children. But, had he washed a dish or made a bed? No, he had not.’
Again, Noreen warded off the sting of her sister’s words. Rosamunde didn’t mean anything by it, she adored Terry as she adored her Malachy. He would have been the sort of dad who’d make a tent with a sheet over the kitchen table, too. She watched the way he was with Emer and it was bittersweet at times knowing he’d have made a grand daddy. She remembered herself. ‘Here, Rosamunde, before you go, take one of these for the others.’ She held out the jar with the lollipops and her sister smiled, ‘You spoil them, Noreen, but I won’t say no. One of them stuck in each of their gobs will give me some peace so it will.’
Her sister left and Noreen and Emer looked at each smiling. ‘Now then, I’ve a box of tinned food needs putting away, do you think you can manage that, Emer?’
‘I do, Aunty NoNo.’
‘And then we’ll have a bowl of soup and toast for lunch. How does that sound?’
‘Grand, Aunty NoNo.’
Noreen’s heart filled as she set the little girl her task and when Mrs Bunting bustled in wanting her order of bread and milk, she fussed over Emer exclaiming she was certain she’d grown this last while and wasn’t she a good girl helping her aunt so.
Noreen had puffed up proud as she would have if Emer had been hers.
THE KNOCK ON THE FITTING room door, startled her back to the present and it took her a moment to reconcile the reflection in the mirror with the same woman who used to cherish those times with Emer forty years ago, now.
‘How are you getting on, madam?’ There was an edge of concern in the woman’s voice and Noreen realised she’d been lost in her thoughts far longer than it should take to say yay or nay to a dress.
‘I’m grand.’
‘Is the size right, madam?’
‘It is.’
‘And does the jacket go well with it?’
‘It does.’
‘I’ll leave you to it then, shall I?’
‘Yes, please.’
Noreen smoothed the shiny royal blue fabric and sighed. She’d had a slim waist once, a girlish waist but look at her now. ‘Put silk on a goat and it’s still a goat,’ she muttered deciding she might like the dress better in green. She wondered if the jacket the sales assistant had picked out came in green, too.
Chapter 8
Roisin followed her mammy through the car park, the sting of raindrops hitting her face despite her having pulled the hood of her coat up. The flight had been bumpy and she was feeling a little green around the gills.
‘You’ll be grand now you’re back on solid ground, Rosi,’ Maureen said, slowing her pace, ‘So then, was your boss man alright about you having a Friday off?’
‘He was, Mammy.’
‘Will you be seeing Shay while you’re here.’
‘I hope so. It’s not going to be easy finding time around everything Aisling’s got planned.’
‘Ah well, I’m sure you’ll manage. And what’s on Noah’s agenda for the weekend?’
Roisin pulled a face. ‘Colin will be taking him out and showing him the high life in London like he always does and Granny Quealey will be after filling him full of all his favourite foods. He’ll have a grand time, so he will.’
‘I’m still his number one nana though.’ Maureen came to a screeching halt as she made a mental note to load Rosi up with her grandson’s favourite sweets to take home with her. ‘His Granny Quealey doesn’t have a dog and Noah loves Pooh. Sure, he thought he was the best thing since sliced bread when I put him in charge of picking up his doings on our walks last time he was over.’
‘He did, Mammy.’ Roisin was pleased her son’s fascination with the number two had waned. His latest predilection seemed to be trying to talk to Mr Nibbles like Doctor Doolittle could. She’d overheard him holding a conversation with him the other day that went along the lines of, ‘Mr Nibbles, do you like lettuce or spinach better?’ ‘Lettuce. I don’t blame you. Spinach makes me want to sick-up too.’ She reassured her mammy, ‘And of course, you’re his number one.’
Satisfied, Maureen carried on toward the grey-storied car parking building. ‘And do we ask how the gerbil is?’
‘Mr Nibbles is thriving, Mammy. Apparently, he prefers the lettuce leaf to spinach and sure, this will make you laugh.’ She relayed the tale of how Noah’s beloved gerbil had performed another of his Houdini acts when he’d been staying overnight at the Quealey house. Colin’s sour-faced mother had hit the roof when she found him nestled in the cup of her bra.
‘What!’ Maureen shrieked, envisaging all sorts of scenarios.
Roisin laughed, ‘She wasn’t wearing it at the time. It was on her bed and he decided her left cup made a lovely nest to hunker down in.
‘Poor little thing, he lived to tell the tale obviously.’
‘He did, but Colin wasn’t popular with his mother. She said she felt violated and that the bra was her best Marks and Spencer’s one and she’d had to bin it. She blames him for getting Noah Mr Nibbles in the first place. You know how I felt about him having a pet initially too, but I’m used to having him about the place now and I’d miss the sound of his mad scrabbling if he wasn’t there.’
They reached the car and Roisin spied the eager poodle strapped into the front seat.
‘You’re in the back, Rosi.’
‘But I feel sick and you know sitting in the back
