Chapter 35
Christ on a bike! She'd overslept. Bronagh shot out of bed and over to the window, fully expecting to see dark clouds and a stormy sky outside, as befitted the day ahead with Hilary.
Instead, a twitch of the curtain revealed the divil herself striding purposefully down the road towards the house.
She was wearing a smart blue coat and pulling a small suitcase behind her.
Her sister looked like she meant business, Bronagh thought with a shudder.
She let the curtain fall before Hilary spotted her and, like a whirling dervish, dug out some clothes, aware it wouldn't matter what she wore.
Hilary would still find a way to make her feel inadequate. She raced off for a shower.
Aware she couldn't hide on the landing forever, she ducked back into her bedroom to hastily apply a lick of mascara and lipstick.
Then, picking up her hairbrush and running it through her hair, she was relieved she'd washed it the day before.
There'd have been no time that morning. As it was, she'd have to change the sheets on Hilary's bed later.
At least Mam hadn't mentioned the new bedding and towels again, she thought, steeling herself for what lurked below.
Giving herself a cursory once-over in the dressing table mirror, she decided she'd have to do.
Bronagh descended the stairs feeling as though she were heading for the guillotine rather than the kitchen.
Reminding herself to rise above any of Hilary's snippy remarks, she peeled her lips back from her gums and sailed in with an overly cheerful, 'Good morning!
Hilary, how was your journey? No, don't get up. '
Her sister, as impeccably coiffed as ever, was sitting at the table with their mam, a pot of tea between them.
Ignoring Hilary's slow head-to-toe inspection, Bronagh planted a cursory kiss on her powdered cheek, holding her breath so as not to be gassed by the green notes of her perfume.
'Bronagh. Glad you could join us.' Sniff.
'I was telling Mother about a dreadful child sitting in front of me on the train who kept scratching their head.
I'd have moved seats if there'd been room.
Honestly, public transport should come with public health warnings.
George would have driven me, but he has golf on Saturdays and he's playing in a tournament, so I had no choice but to use the train.’ Hilary tapped the back of her own neck. ‘Tag, Bronagh, tag.'
Bronagh reached around and tucked the offending Primark label out of sight before helping herself to a much-needed cup of tea. She could have done with sloshing something considerably stronger into it.
Hilary got straight down to business. 'I spent all of yesterday ringing around and I've managed to find a church hall in Dundrum for the reception.'
Ha! It was exactly as she'd suspected. Bronagh sent a silent thank-you to Maureen before replying, 'You'll have to let them know we won't be needing it after all, Hilary. Maureen's offered us the dining room at O'Mara's and I've accepted. The catering's all taken care of too.'
'You should have let me know, Bronagh. I'm a busy woman and I thought I was doing you a favour.' Sniff, sniff.
'I know you are, and you're right,' Bronagh conceded. 'I should have rung you, but with one thing and another this week, it slipped my mind.' She was determined to be the bigger person. 'I'm sorry, Hilary.'
Sniff.
'Oh, it's lovely having my two girls at the table, so it is,' Myrna chirped brightly. 'I've been filling Hilary in on all our news. And telling her all about Maureen's new grandbabby, of course.'
'I hope you've not bullied Mother into this house move, Bronagh, because she seems to have changed her tune awfully quickly.'
'Mam's sitting right here, Hilary. She can speak for herself.' Bronagh thought it must be some kind of record. She'd been in her sister's company for less than five minutes and already Hilary had managed to get her hackles up. 'And there was no bullying involved, was there, Mam?'
‘Not at all. You’re to get that idea out of your head, Hilary.
Sure, it’s got a conservatory. Imagine that?
I’ve been picturing myself feeling as though I’m sitting outside while actually being indoors, no matter what the weather decides to do.
It’s going to be marvellous. I think I’ll spend most of my time in there because Bronagh and Lenny are going to put a television in for me. ’
Bronagh confirmed it with a nod.
‘And they’re going to put in a downstairs shower and turn the utility room next to the downstairs loo into a bedroom for me. I won’t have to manage the stairs anymore. That’ll be a blessing in itself.’
Hilary seized upon the words ‘utility room’, seemingly aghast. ‘You and Leonard are planning on putting Mother in the utility room? Are you going to squeeze her in between the washing machine and the ironing board? Or perhaps there’s room beside the bucket and mop.’
Bronagh bit back a tart reply, choosing instead to explain.
‘It’s right next door to the downstairs loo, Hilary, and as utility rooms go it’s enormous.
It’s bigger than Mam’s bedroom upstairs, and we’ll be renovating it first, of course.
Like Mam said, we’ll be putting in a downstairs shower too, and she can choose whatever colour scheme she likes for her new room. ’
‘I’m thinking peach,’ Myrna piped up. ‘Or lemon. What do you think, girls?’
Both daughters ignored her.
Unable to resist, Bronagh adopted a plummy voice of her own, complete with an exaggerated sniff. ‘The house is on a tree-lined street with a large south-facing garden. There’s room for a pony.’
‘Room for a pony, imagine that,’ Myrna murmured.
‘Three generous bedrooms and—’ Bronagh paused for effect before delivering her pièce de résistance. ‘a reception room.’
The sniff that followed, which nearly caused Hilary’s eyeballs to roll back into her head, was deeply satisfying.
Bronagh took a smug sip of her tea before setting the cup back in its saucer.
‘Mam’s having morning tea next week with Margaret, whose daughter I’m friendly with.
They only live a few doors away and I think they’ll have loads in common.
Isn’t that grand?’ She thought about Patricia, who had arranged the get-together exactly as promised.
Patricia had checked out the previous day after what she'd described as a glorious week of letting her true colours shine.
She'd eaten at Quinn's every evening and seen every theatre production currently showing in Dublin.
When she'd dragged her suitcase out to the waiting taxi with Bronagh’s help, however, she'd smiled and said, ‘I miss Mam, and I can't wait to get stuck into some new designs.’
Bronagh knew those designs were soon to be marketed by Patricia's official new business partner, Maureen. Things were working out brilliantly all round, she thought, picking up her teacup once more. Now all she had to do was get through the day ahead with Hilary.
It wasn't going to be easy.