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Dorothy perused the calendar on the wall over her desk and did a quick calculation. There were fewer than thirteen weeks left until Christmas. Amy had been in touch to say she and Donal planned to come home for a week of the holidays, but warned they had promised to stay with Donal’s family in Cork.
Dorothy was not expecting to see much of the couple, although she was grateful they felt confident enough to leave the new business in the hands of their second in command and return home for a short break.
The refurbishment of the barn and holiday lets had hit a stumbling block towards the end of 2010 when funds became tight. The intervention of the lottery in January had enabled Amy and Donal to pay off their mounting debts, and plough ahead with the project. The unexpected gift of two million euro gave Amy and Donal pause for thought.
Suddenly finding themselves with a substantial sum at their disposal, they began to rethink their strategy. They had permission to construct eight holiday lets of varying sizes, and were unable to increase the number without falling foul of the French planning authorities. After consultation, they compromised by raising the specifications of the lets to a five-star level.
After months of heartache and delay, the project was finally finished. Amy and Donal were settled in a modern home that had once been a dilapidated barn. By all accounts, the pair were enjoying every moment of their new lives, and had no regrets about upping sticks and leaving their friends and family behind.
The top end self-catering establishment welcomed its first tourists in August, and had already received some excellent reviews on Trip Adviser. Donal was a student of Greek mythology and, in honour of Apollo and Daphne, the holiday park had been named Laurier. Dorothy had feigned interest when Amy happily shared this nugget. She was certain Horace would be interested in the origins of the name, although she personally didn’t give a rat’s ass about either Apollo or Daphne, whoever the fuck they were.
Prior to leaving Ireland, Donal had sold his apartment and Amy her house, a move which allowed the couple to plough the proceeds into the French venture. It would have been a disaster of magnificent proportions if the enterprise had failed. It went without saying that Dorothy was delighted at how well things were working out for her friend, and told her so many times.
What she made sure to keep to herself was her private opinion of Donal Mulligan. She felt he was inclined to be a something of an unpleasant Greek legend himself, and wondered how Amy could stomach his prosy attitude. Easy to judge other folks’ relationships when you don’t have one of your own.
Dorothy was far more interested in why her bestie had not mentioned even the possibility of a Christmas visit. All Simone’s calls and mails were full of news and chat about how she was spending her days, yet not one of them hinted at a planned visit. It was perplexing.
Never one to delete emails from friends, she painstakingly looked through the messages sent by Simone shortly after she moved to Sydney. Judging by how the tone unexpectedly changed in September 2010, Dorothy guessed this was when Charlie first appeared on the scene. She felt it safe to assume the couple had been together for a full year. Surely it was time for Simone to come out to her family (so to speak) and bring the boy-child home for a visit.
From: Dottie8888@chatulike.ie
To: SRedmond@chatchat.com; ANorris@talkalot.com
Date: September 25th, 2011
SUBJECT: CHRISTMAS, MASSEY FERGUSON AND AUCTIONS
Hello Ladies,
I hope you are all well in the Lot Valley and on Boomerang Beach. It has been a busy time here, and today I notice Christmas is only thirteen weeks away. Amy, we are really looking forward to seeing you and Donal. Simone, it would be the icing on the cake if you and Charlie could visit as well. Let me know if you would like me to arrange tickets on your behalf. The flight is so long, I wouldn’t want you to have to travel economy, and setting up home can be an expensive business.
Rosa is settling in well. She has lived in Ireland for a while now and is quite good at the terminology. She understands all about feck and fecker and ye oul fecker and ya dirty feckin’ hoorin’ bollocks. The other day Joey was here and referred to something as banjaxed, and Rosa knew it meant broken. Now ladies, you must admit that’s pretty impressive for a New Yorker.
Bel spent a couple of days in London for fashion week. She went with her friend, Trish, who is one of those glamorous types. They invited me to go as well, but I didn’t really fancy it because I would have barely made it back in time for the ploughing. Yes indeed. I went to the ploughing championships in Kildare.
Viv, Rosa and Jamie came with me, as did Saul, Ryanna and all the kids. Yvonne stayed at home with her granny because she started attending Loreto Secondary School on St. Stephen’s Green at the end of August, and Viv didn’t want her to miss a day. Needless to say, we all wore wellies. Talk about mud.
I don’t want to say anything against the farming community, but they are all obsessed by tractors and combine harvesters. You should have seen the state of them all. I got a lot of slagging from the others about finding a farmer husband, although I am pleased to report I was not approached by anybody. Well, I was, but only the once, and Saul put his arm around me and looked threatening. He can be very protective.
Rosa said that maybe I should have ‘given the guy a chance, because he was kinda cute in an outdoorsy way’, but I told her I simply do not have it in me to become romantically involved with a man who learned to drive on a Massey Ferguson.
I saw a non-freezing tap gadget yoke that might be useful for Otter so I took a leaflet for Eddie. Saul said he would order some for the outside taps at the palace as well. We will have a dedicated car wash area near the garage, and we mustn’t forget the famous boot room. We went to a couple of the fashion shows and they were fantastic. I am not sure what Bel and Trish would have made of them, but I really enjoyed them and so did Ryanna.
Rosa didn’t pay much attention to the clothes. She was way too busy checking out ‘cute guys’ in their wellies. I think she may even have given her number to one or two of them. Imagine Rosa married to a farmer? It makes me giggle just thinking about it. I have attached a photo of her so you can see what I mean. Can you picture her striding across the farmyard, possibly clutching a newborn lamb, wearing her killer heels and full makeup?
As if all that excitement wasn’t quite enough for one week, we also attended some of the Arthur’s Day celebrations. Jamie and Jerome brought a number of their friends along, and a good time was had by all. At least from what I can remember. Jamie claims I sang the Fields of Athenry as a duet with Patrick, but I don’t believe him and nobody can offer any proof, digital or otherwise.
Rosa and I sobered up in time to attend a sale of repossessed property at the Shelbourne Hotel. I was glad she was with me because there was a protest taking place outside the hotel which came as a bit of a shock to me. The protestors were claiming that some of the houses being auctioned off were repossessed family homes. Well I certainly wasn’t there for one of those!
The room felt a little stuffy and claustrophobic due to the sheer mass of bodies, but it didn’t prevent me from getting the place I was after. It’s an eight thousand square-foot, four storeys above basement, Georgian building. It’s on the southern side of Merrion Square, close to the Museum of Natural History. It has no fewer than fifteen private parking spaces at the rear. It also has its own tiny little mews building and access to Fitzwilliam Lane, not to mention a patio seating area.
Rosa bid until the price started to rise. Then just as it looked as if it would be snatched away by a rather smug-looking gentleman in a very sharp suit, for the paltry sum of nine hundred and fifty thousand yo yos, yours truly came in with a bid of one million and it was knocked down to me. Of course it would have fetched four million or more back in the boom years, but they don’t call it a distressed auction for nuthin’!
Claudia recommended it as an investment. Now I have to decide what to do with it for the next decade or thereabouts. I had better go. Bel will be here in a few minutes. We are off to the Solheim Cup at Killeen Castle. I am hoping to meet Georgie there. He tells me he and his wife have tickets. Bye for now. Don’t forget what I said about Christmas. Love Dot xx
