Page 53 of The Irish Goodbye

Nikki’s face appeared behind them, her eyes wide, and Cordelia could tell she was trying to find a way out of the situation.

“You know,” she said, “it’s an awfully long trip.”

“Not as far as Italy,” Louise insisted.

“It’s not just the flight,” Cordelia said. “There’s a train and a bus and a ferry and … I don’t know where you’d stay, Mom.”

“We’d stay with you, of course. Aren’t you renting a house?”

“It’s a cottage. It’s basically three rooms.”

Gary seemed to take the hint. “Louise, we don’t want to be inviting ourselves into Cordelia’s vacation.”

“It’s not really a vacation if she’s living there for three months, is it?” Louise said. “Jon was perfectly happy hosting us.” Cordelia wondered very much if that was how Jon would have put it—her mother was a pretty exhausting houseguest. “Doesn’t that Alison girl run a bed and breakfast? Cordelia, didn’t you say Alison ran—”

But before her mother could finish the sentence, the front door burst open and Róisín stormed in, bringing a gust of cool air and the scent of thyme.

“There you are!” she cried. “Come on now, I’ve got some New Zealanders down the harbor waiting on you.”

Cordelia blinked. “Huh? Róisín, I’m on a phone call with my family.”

Róisín brightened. “Are you now,” she said, coming over to the table. “Hello, Cordelia’s family.”

Louise and Gary looked astonished at this wild woman in her overalls.

“Hello,” Louise said. “I’m Louise James. You must be—”

“Ah, so you’re the overbearing mother, are ya? Then you must be the boyfriend Cordelia’s got a stick up her bottom about. Nice to put faces to names.”

Cordelia felt mortification crest over her scalp in hot prickles as she heard Nikki give a snort of laughter.

“I beg your pardon?” Louise said, aghast. “Overbearing?”

“Sorry, no time to chat,” Róisín said. “Got to take this one down to the harbor. Where’s your camera? The New Zealanders won’t wait all day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Róisín,” Cordelia said.

“Christ on a cracker, girlie, I’m saying I got some well-paying clients for ya! Showed them a few of your photos o’ me and Brigid, they went over the moon for them. Your wan Cordelia is a fine photographer, Louise, if you don’t mind me saying. Very fine indeed.”

“My what?” Louise said, bewildered.

“It’s an Irish expression, Mom,” Cordelia explained. “‘Your wan’ means ‘your woman.’”

Louise looked absolutely baffled. Nikki, it seemed, couldn’t help herself—she grabbed the phone from them.

“Hi Róisín, I’m Nikki, Cordelia’s sister-in-law,” she said.

“Ah, yes,” Róisín said. “I’ve heard about you too. She likes you best. Where’s the brother, though, eh? What’s his name again?”

“Toby’s right here,” Nikki said gleefully. Cordelia was glad someone was enjoying this. Nikki shoved the phone in Toby’s face and he gave a small wave.

“Uh, hi,” he said.

Róisín peered at the screen. “So you’re Toby. Cordelia, he’s not near as ugly as you said he was. Oh, I’m just teasing you, boyo, she thinks you’re grand. Now if you don’t mind, we’ve got some New Zealanders to photograph and then Niall’s dinner to get to. You know all about Niall, of course. Cordelia, did you tell them about Niall?”

Oh no, Cordelia thought as her mother called out, “Who’s Niall?”

“Sorry, got to go, clients are waiting,” Cordelia said. “Love you guys, bye!”