Chapter 27
'That's the street there,' Bronagh said, pointing through the window as Roisin, after checking the road behind them was clear, swung sharply left.
Her passengers in the back barely moved, given the three of them were packed in like sardines. Maureen, however, was flung about like a rag doll despite her seatbelt.
'For the love of God, Roisin, you were up on two wheels then,' she said once she'd righted herself and smoothed her hair.
Roisin was unapologetic, although she did ease off the accelerator so they could cruise down the street and get a feel for the neighbourhood.
'It's a lovely tree-lined street,' Aisling remarked admiring the orange, yellow and red foliage.
'The houses look well kept,' Maureen commented, her equilibrium restored.
'And there were shops back there around the corner,' Roisin pointed out.
Bronagh made a noise of agreement. 'Lenny said it was close to the shops.'
'Look, there's our woman up there.' Moira, peering around her sister, pointed through the gap between the front seats to where a corporate-styled blonde woman paced on the pavement.
'I thought it was a fella I was after meeting,' Bronagh said, puzzled. 'Jeremy something.'
'Well, he must have sent her instead,' Moira insisted. 'I know fashion, Bronagh, and your woman screams estate agent power dresser.'
'It's true, she does,' Maureen agreed, beginning to direct Roisin where to pull over.
Roisin smacked her mammy's hand away as it reached for the horn.
'Don't even think about it. You'll disturb the peace, and your woman’s got two eyes in her head. She can see us. You’ll be getting Bronagh off on the wrong foot with her potential new neighbours by tooting our arrival like you're heralding the Pope.'
Chastened Maureen kept her hands to herself.
'The house looks bigger than Donal described,' Bronagh murmured, looking past the estate agent power dresser woman to the elegant semi-detached brick house beyond, complete with a sweeping gravel drive and not one but two garages.
'And look at all those rose bushes in the front garden. They'd be a riot of colour in summer.'
'It's got definite kerb appeal,' Aisling said.
'It certainly presents well,' Maureen concurred.
Moira, fiddling with her seatbelt, muttered, 'Would you two leave the real estate jargon to the agent there? Aisling, move! You're crushing my hand.'
Hands were reaching for the doors when Maureen raised her own, signalling for them to stop. 'Don't move,' she ordered.
Everybody did as they were told, freezing as though Mammy was the wolf and they were playing a game of What's the Time, Mr Wolf?
'We're to be clever about this house viewing, girls. Don't forget for a second who that woman is while we're wandering around in there.'
'Duh. The estate agent, Mammy,' Aisling said. 'So?'
'So, use this, Aisling.' Maureen tapped the side of her head.
'She works for the people selling the house, not Bronagh.
Her job is to get the best possible price for her clients.
To squeeze the maximum amount she can from Bronagh and Leonard.
' She pretended to wring out a sponge. 'That way, the bigger her commission.
And our job is to ensure Bronagh and Lenny get a fair deal. Right?'
'Right!' they chorused.
'You're like one of those fellas in the changing room giving a pep talk before the team runs out onto the pitch, Maureen,' Bronagh remarked. 'That's a gift you have there.'
'It stems from years of having to motivate this lot,' Maureen told her friend.
'But how do we do that?' Moira asked, circling back to what their job was.
'By not showing so much as a flicker of emotion or letting a single ooh or aah pass your lips.
It's poker faces I want to see from all of you.
If your woman suspects Bronagh's on the fence about the place, she'll be more open to presenting a lower offer to her clients.
Whereas if she smells an ounce of interest—and by that I mean you lot carrying on like the house is ticking all of Bronagh and Lenny's dream house boxes—then, mark my words, she'll pounce.
' Maureen made paws of her hands and pretended to do just that.
'She’s a highly trained sales operative. Got it?'
'Got it,' everyone chimed, looking at the woman with fresh, and wary eyes.
'Except if they've a spa bath, Mammy. I can't guarantee not showing emotion then,' Aisling piped up.
'Does the poker face include me, Maureen?' Bronagh asked.
'Especially you, Bronagh.'
'And no feng shui face either, Mammy,' Roisin said.
Moira and Aisling sniggered.
'You won't catch me cracking a smile. We're cool customers, spa bath or no spa bath, and we'll confer with one another back in the privacy of the car as to what we think. That, girls, is how you get a good price.'
'Can we get out of the car now, Mammy? Moira's after letting one off,' Aisling asked.
'It wasn't me.'
Still squabbling, the sisters tumbled out after Bronagh.
'Hello there.' Ignoring the kerfuffle behind her, Bronagh held out her hand to the woman as they clustered around her.
The agent’s carefully made-up eyes registered alarm at the sudden swarm. 'Er, hello.' She gave Bronagh's hand a limp shake. 'Just so you know, I'm Catholic.'
'Grand. So are we.' Bronagh smiled, then quickly reverted to her poker face.
'Does that mean she gets a discount?' Moira piped up.
'Shut up, you eejit.' Aisling nudged her.
'I take it we can go straight in?' Bronagh was already looking past the woman's shoulder pads to the house, itching to see if it lived up to the exterior.
It was hard to imagine having both a front and back garden.
At hers and Mam's house, you walked straight in off the street.
Here, there was a path leading to the entrance, flanked by rose bushes and a wooden gate.
She wondered whether there was internal access from the garage.
What a treat that would be on a rainy Dublin day.
'No, you can't. Besides, I'm going out.'
'But I've an appointment with you.' The agent’s rudeness saw Bronagh take a step back.
'You don't.'
'She does,' Maureen said as she, Roisin, Aisling and Moira circled around the woman like mafia wives.
A sleek sedan pulled up just then, and the window wound down. 'Is everything alright, Carissa?' a smooth metro man called over.
'I'm being harassed by these fanatics.'
The woman pushed past them and, holding the passenger door with one foot in and one foot out of the car, turned back to look at them, her eyes snake-like with suspicion. 'Did Father Donnelly send you? He was giving me the hard word about attending church last Easter.'
'No, Noonan's did.' Bronagh turned to Maureen, who appeared to be as bewildered by the exchange as she was.
The car door slammed shut and, as the engine revved, the woman shouted out of the window, 'And youse can feck off with your 'we're all Catholics together' bit. Tell Father Donnelly Carissa says his religious hard sell won't work on me. I'll see him next Easter.'
'Charming,' Bronagh muttered.
'You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear,' Maureen said primly.
'I think we got our wires crossed,' Roisin said. 'I can't see a For Sale sign anywhere, can you?'
A slow shaking of heads confirmed there wasn't one.
'It's Moira's fault your woman thought we were after spreading the good word,' Aisling said before pointing further down the road. 'Look.'
They scanned the pavement ahead to see a teenager lurking outside a house with an unmissable For Sale sign planted in the front garden.
'Do you think he knows the house is empty and is casing the joint?' Maureen asked.
'No. He's wearing a suit, for one thing, and that's a Noonan's sign. I think he's our man. What did you say his name was, Bronagh?' Roisin asked.
'Jeremy.'
Roisin was already waddling towards him, waving with one hand, the other planted in the small of her back, while Moira and Aisling, still bickering, followed her.
Bronagh and Maureen linked arms and set off, Bronagh saying, 'Seeing him up there is putting me in mind of the last time I was in hospital with Mam. She refused to talk to the doctor on duty because she looked twelve.'
'I know where she was coming from,' Maureen said. 'Still, him being wet behind the ears might be a good thing.'
'That's a good point,' Bronagh replied, feeling Maureen's gaze on her.
'I'm only after taking a good look at you now, Bronagh, and that coat's lovely on you, so it is.'
'Thanks, Mo. But it's not mine.' For the third time, she relayed her idea for Patricia's handiwork. 'I brought some more of her creations with me to show you later. They're in the car.'
'I'd like to see them, especially if they've got the same flair as that coat. And you say this Patricia could work from home?'
'A cottage industry, and yes they have.' Bronagh was pleased Maureen was on the same page.
Right now, though, they had a man to be seeing about a house.