Chapter 13
The shadows were beginning to stretch long across the living room floor when Maureen threw her hands up in frustration.
She was perched on the edge of the sofa with a near-empty bag of doggy treats, having spent hours whistling, clicking, gesticulating with her arms and issuing clear instructions.
Instead of fetching, lying on his side and playing dead, or even sitting, Pooh—who had still managed to wheedle most of the treats from her—was getting amorous with his teddy bear.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that dog would be the death of her, she thought, hearing the front door go. ‘I’m in here, Donal.’
That she’d made no progress with Pooh was disappointing because she’d wanted to show Donal all the tricks she’d taught him over the course of an afternoon.
The dream of demonstrating to Rosemary that she too could be a Crufts woman with the best of them was slowly dying.
She glared at Pooh. ‘You can cut that out. Your daddy’s home now.
He doesn’t want to see that sort of carry-on the minute he gets in the door. ’
It fell on deaf ears.
Donal, in his overalls, once pristine white, now stained grey despite Maureen’s best efforts soaking them, padded through to the living room.
He was in his woolly socks, having had the good sense to leave his boots at the door, and looked more Grizzly Adams than Kenny Rogers as he bent down to kiss Maureen.
‘You smell dusty,’ she remarked.
Donal straightened with a grimace, his hand going to the small of his back. He didn’t sit down, knowing better than to flop next to Maureen until he’d had a shower and changed out of his work gear. ‘I’ve been crawling about in a roof space all afternoon.’
Maureen shook her head. ‘Donal, you’re retired for a reason. From work, not life,’ she was quick to add.
‘I know, Mo, and if it wasn’t Terri I wouldn’t be doing it. You know my policy when it comes to friends and family and odd jobs.’
‘Fair play, but you do seem to have a lot of friends and relations. We don’t need another one in the family out of action with a bad back on the sofa.’
‘Who’s out of action?’ Donal glanced at Pooh. ‘Obviously not himself over there. It’s a cold shower he’s needing by the looks of that.’
‘Pooh, cut it out!’ Maureen gave one last whistle and click, but it made no difference.
‘What was that about, Mo? Have you joined an ornithology group?’
‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘The study of birds.’
Maureen took a mental note of that in case it popped up at a quiz night.
‘No, I have not. Rosemary Farrell’s after getting Pooh to do as he’s told just by whistling and clicking like so.
It’s very annoying, Donal. She’s acting like Pooh’s her dog since minding him for us, all superior-like.
So I’ve been trying to master the technique all afternoon to show her who’s in charge.
As you can see, though, I’ve not had any luck. ’
‘I’ve every faith in you, Mo. When you set your mind to something, you’re an unstoppable whirlwind. A force of nature, so you are.’
‘You’re making me sound like a weather event, Donal.’
He grinned. ‘I mean you’ll have Pooh eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.’
‘Oh, I’ve had that all right.’ She held up the depleted doggy treats and Donal laughed.
‘So come on then, who is it that’s hurt their back? My money’s on Shay. He mentioned something about Roisin wanting him to shift the furniture around so it was more feng shui or whatever. No, scratch that. I’ll go with Moira forgetting to bend her knees and picking up Kiera.’
‘Wrong on both counts. It’s Quinn.’ Maureen gave him the rundown of the guest with the oversized suitcase and the resulting bad back.
‘Sure, I’ve been there and done that myself. Not with a suitcase, like, but gardening. And once, would you believe it, all I was after doing when I felt it go was bending to pick up a sock. Poor fella. Ah well, Aisling will just have to don her nurse’s hat.’
‘He’s drawn the short straw there, I’m afraid.
Aisling and Moira are no Florence Nightingales.
Quinn would have fared better with Roisin.
She’s the softest touch when it comes to that sort of thing.
The other two are all “soldier on” without an ounce of empathy between them.
I don’t know where they get it. ‘Oh, and speaking of Roisin.’ Maureen told him about her decision to have a home birth.
‘The idea of it worries me sick, Donal. I mean, what’s she thinking?
’ She rubbed her temples. ‘Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the day I’m after having.
It’s been one thing after another and I haven’t even told you about Bronagh yet.
Her mam and sister are hijacking her wedding. ’
‘Whoa, slow down, Mo. It sounds like what you need is a nice cup of tea, a foot rub and a chocolate digestive.’
The last two words were said so quickly Maureen almost didn’t catch them. ‘Nice try, Donal. Although I won’t say no to a cup of tea or a foot rub. Shower first?’
‘Shower first.’ He agreed and ambled off.
She was a lucky woman indeed, Maureen thought.
Then, seeing Pooh had now collapsed on his dog bed, she decided to give up on the training for today and go and put the kettle on herself.
It was beginning to whistle and she’d just fetched the cups from the cupboard when she felt a presence behind her.
Assuming it was Donal, she turned only to see a stranger standing in the entrance to her kitchen.
It took a split second for her mind to compute this, but when it did the mugs slipped from her hands.
They smashed on the floor as Maureen opened her mouth and screamed.