Wishful Thinking (a journey that will change lives forever) Read Free Page A

wait in the cold for the next bus to Santry.  
    Because the train had been late in the first place, she had missed her usual connection but such was life.  Rosie reached into her bag and took out the novel she was currently reading.  Anita Shreve, a nice gentle read – not half as gripping as our own  lovely  Irish writers– but still, nice enough to pass a bit of time. 
    Finally the bus arrived, and twenty or so minutes later, Rosie reached her daughter’s apartment building.  She took extra care selecting the right buzzer, always afraid of her life that she’d push the wrong one and wake up some poor misfortunate sleeping off their night-duty or something.  She shook her head.  Originally from County Clare, and despite living in Wicklow for all of her married life, she still couldn’t shake off the ‘small village inferiority complex’ as Martin used to call it.  Rosie called it good manners and concern for a fellow human being.  Outgoing and confident all his life, Martin didn’t really understand.
    Nor, it seemed, did Sophie.  “Mum, I’m just drying my hair – can you hold on for five minutes?” her daughter’s voice blared tinnily through the speaker.
    “No problem,” Rosie replied agreeably, although the rather unseasonable cold was making her fingers numb.
    “Hi, Mum!”  It was a good ten minutes before Sophie appeared downstairs, dark hair sleek and shiny as always and her make-up beautifully applied.  Her daughter always looked stylish, and today she was dressed in a gorgeous fitted woollen suit, something that even Rosie’s inexperienced eye could see had cost an arm and a leg.   But then again, it couldn’t have cost that much because Sophie and Robert were mad saving for this house, weren’t they?   No, knowing Sophie and her incredible talent for spotting a bargain, she had probably picked the suit up for next to nothing in one of those second-hand shops that seemed to be popping up everywhere these days. 
    “Sorry about keeping you waiting like that, but I think you were a little early – I said ten thirty, didn’t I?”
    Rosie thought idly that if her daughter was occupied and couldn’t come to the door, there was no reason why she couldn’t have just buzzed her into the hall.  But Sophie could be a little bit scatty sometimes. 
    “No, the train was late actually – where’s Claudia?” Rosie stepped into the hallway, eager to get out of this cold. Although it was supposed to be summertime, the seasons in this country generally set their own agenda. 
    Sophie linked her mother’s arm and steered her back outside.  “At the childminder’s of course!  I couldn’t bring her with us to the house – we’d have no peace with her wailing and whinging and touching everything!”
    “Oh.” Rosie was disappointed.  She had been looking forward to seeing her granddaughter.  “Maybe we could pick her up afterwards?”
    “Ah no, Tracy offered to take her for the day – she knows I need a break,” Sophie answered dismissively. “And of course, she won’t say no to the money either.”
    Rosie nodded reluctantly.  Perhaps Claudia could be a bit of a handful but . . .
    Sophie chattered on. “Oh, Mum, I am just dying for you to see this place – it is truly incredible!”
    “I’m sure it is, pet, but don’t get your hopes up too much either, sure you won’t?  You know yourself that there’s a lot of competition out there for nice houses and – ”
    “Mum, this is our house – I just know it is!”
    As they walked towards the residents’ carpark, Rosie had to smile at her daughter’s enthusiasm.  She had been the same as a young girl, always full of excitement and mischief. 
    Sophie and David had both been quite a handful when growing up really, and while Martin had always insisted that she spoiled and sheltered them a little too much, she was proud to say that they had both turned out very well.  ‘A credit to them,’ her own mother might have