This is a subscriber-only article
“I’m not sure about this leather jacket Freya. It’s a bit showy.”
“It IS YOU Auntie Ann. You need to represent women your age. You’re not invisible any more. Get out there. And slay queen.”
Freya is helping me pick an outfit. I don’t know will there be much slaying. It’s the Tidy Towns Regional Committee get together. The first thing we’ve been to since The Omicron.
The meeting is being held at a private dwelling-house over in Grangetierney. A fierce upmarket place by all accounts. There’s an estate of them on the edge of the golf course. Le Mesurier Downs. I don’t know where they got the name from. We knew it as The Bush, but that was before big money came in.
Denis is coming along for the spin. He’s in the mood for vol au vents. We’re to meet Gordon there. He’s texted me on the address. “The Spruces” it’s called. We land in at the door, which is open. A fella with a tan and a polo neck is standing in the doorway.
“We’re the Kilsudgeon gro…”
He interrupts “No names” and laughs. “I just need to see your passes.” I fooster in my bag for the phone for the COVID-19 pass.
He looks puzzled when I show it. “No the pass for the event. Weren’t you sent it?”
“We got nothing. Gordon organised our names for the list.” (Gordon is our chairperson). Gordon doesn’t ring a bell with the door man but he waves us in.
“Well,” he says, “you don’t look like you’re from the Sunday World. The Mature Mingling room is on the left.”
“Mature room?”
“We start off with everyone grouped by age. It just makes people more comfortable.”
“Shur we’ll be in the same room,” says Denis. “It’s only all ould wans on the Tidy Towns.”
“Denis! It is not.” I look around. Everyone is fierce well dressed. I don’t feel a bit showy now in my leather jacket. There’s a lot of other leather in the room. A couple sit near us. She smiles over to me in greeting.
“First time?” she asks.
“Ah no, we’re at it a good few years. I got fed up of the rubbish around the town.”
“I know what you mean,” she says. “There comes a time when you just have to look beyond your normal horizons.”
“Do ye have a good turn-out at your clean-ups?” I ask.
“Clean-ups,” she says laughing. “Oh that’s a good word for it. We’re hosting our first one next week actually.”
While Denis is wiring into the sausage rolls, my phone rings. It’s Gordon.
“I’m here Ann, are you near?”
“We’re in the Mature Room.”
“They’re about to start the meeting. It’s a function room out the back.”
I nudge Denis and we start to head towards the back. I keep Gordon on the phone. It’s when we pass a room where the door is half open and everyone is in dressing gowns that I realise this is not a Tidy Towns Regional Group meeting.
“I think we’re in the wrong place. Gordon are you sure it’s the Spruces? Denis stop gawping!”
“Oh I thought I’d corrected that Ann. I meant to say Pines. What’s happening at the Spruces Ann? Ann?”
“I think they’re having a clean-up afterwards Gordon,” and I hang up. I haul Denis away from the door.
“Leaving so soon,” says the polo neck fella as we’re going out the door.
“I forgot my glasses,” says Denis.
We’re in such a fluster, as we pull out, Denis nearly drives into -of all people- Nuala Costigan travelling along the road. She’s definitely seen us. I’m mortified. I want to slide down in the seat.
“Does she know Denis I wonder – what goes on here. She’ll have it around the village.”
“She knows something,” says Denis. “She had her indicator on to pull in.”
SHARING OPTIONS: