Putting Out the Stars Read Free

broken nights – she was really choked up.’
    ‘Ah, the creature.’
    ‘Yeah . . . she’s fine again now though. What’s up with you?’
    ‘Just wondering about yourself and Cian coming to dinner here on Thursday, if you’re happy about leaving Poll.’
    ‘Happy and more than ready for a break – Granny Mary will hold the fort. What’s the occasion?’
    ‘You have to meet Ruth; they got back the other day.’
    Pause. ‘Oh . . . right.’
    Had Laura imagined that hesitation? She decided to ignore it for the moment. ‘I’ve told her all about you, so you need to come and show her you’re not that bad
really.’
    ‘Har de har – you should be on stage. How’s she getting on with the dragon lady?’
    Laura smiled. ‘Hey, watch it – that’s my mother you’re talking about; she’s no lady.’
    ‘I’ll tell her you said that next time I see her. Anyway, she’s not that bad – “dragon lady” is actually a term of endearment. I just wouldn’t fancy
living with her.’
    ‘Hmm – and so say all of us. Ruth seems to be getting on fine with her so far. But then, she’s the kind who’d get on well with anyone – you know, nice. Friendly.
Easygoing.’
    ‘You make her sound like a sheepdog – or someone who crochets. Does she crochet?’
    Laura laughed. ‘No, no crochet, as far as I know; no sign of any lace doyleys. And no knitting or embroidery either: not so far anyway. She
is
quiet though – I have to watch
what I say a bit. I think she doesn’t quite know what to make of me. But she’s nice really, and she’s dying to meet you. So ye’ll come on Thursday?’
    Another tiny pause. ‘Yeah, as long as it suits Cian – he’s not home from work yet. I’ll check with him and give you a ring back. What time do you want us?’
    ‘Eight-ish, I suppose.’ Laura thought of Breffni’s appalling timekeeping. ‘That does not mean nine-ish, it means half eight. And make Cian drive, so you can have a
jar.’
    ‘Oh he’ll drive, don’t you worry. I drove us to a work do of his last week; someone was retiring after about seventy-nine years in the job.’
    Laura laughed again. ‘Right, so that would make him, let’s see . . . about a hundred and five?’
    ‘Yeah, about that. We got a set dinner and a man with an accordion entertaining us after; I think he was the office caretaker or something. Everyone was waltzing – it was worse than
a wedding. I nearly fell asleep into the pork chops. We were the only two under fifty-five.’
    ‘Serves you right for taking up with a boring old taxman, or whatever he is.’
    ‘Accountant please – give him his correct title. And I assume “boring” refers to his job.’
    ‘You know it does; Cian is a pet . . . .’ Laura hesitated – maybe she should say something, after all. ‘Look Bref, you are OK about this, aren’t you?’
    ‘About what – meeting the love of my life again?’ Breffni sounded amused. ‘Sure didn’t we meet at your wedding, and weren’t we fine?’
    Laura wondered again if she’d imagined Breffni’s earlier hesitation. ‘Yeah, of course you were . . . but that was different. This’ll be back in Limerick – I thought
it might – oh I don’t know, stir things up a bit, or something.’ She began to feel a bit foolish – she should never have brought it up.
    Breffni didn’t seem bothered. ‘Laur, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but you needn’t worry – Andrew and myself are ancient history. Haven’t I Cian now? And
we were bound to meet sooner or later, with us both back in the same territory – I’m amazed that I haven’t bumped into him up to this, actually, when you think that I’ve
been home nearly two years now.’
    ‘Well, you’re not exactly living a few doors up from us any more . . . so you don’t hate the thought, really?’
    ‘No; I’ll rise to the occasion, don’t worry.’
    ‘Good . . . and Bref, you won’t mention to Ruth about you and Andrew, will you? She’s not very