‘Isabelle.’ The girl held out her hand and shook Patrick’s very firmly, as Killian passed him a portion of chocolate mousse and some pavlova.
‘Patrick Power,’ he said. ‘Very pleased to make your acquaintance.’
‘Very pleased to make yours too.’ The children giggled and sat down on the sofa, beside Maureen.
‘And I’m Maureen O’Driscoll. Housekeeper.’ She smiled at Patrick. ‘Had enough merriment for one day?’
‘For today,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long one.’
‘Join the club,’ said Maureen.
‘We’re in the club too,’ said Killian.
Maureen nodded, while scraping her saucer with her spoon, and finishing her dessert. ‘These two’s eyes are hanging out of their heads. They need a story and into bed.’
‘Will you tell us one, Maureen?’ said the boy.
‘Yes, tell us about when you were small,’ said the girl, ‘and you had all ten of your brothers and sisters to look after and your brother hid his sweets so he would eat them in front of you all. I love that story.’
But Maureen was getting to her feet and held the trolley. ‘I can’t. I have to bring this old thing back to the kitchen and then get myself home. Who’s looking after you? Where are your mother and father?’
‘Dad is meant to be looking after us,’ said Isabelle.
‘But he’s in the bar,’ said Killian. ‘Singing.’
For a moment, right on cue, Laurence’s voice was heard shouting, ‘Who wants to play beer pong?’
‘Where’s your mam?’ asked Maureen.
‘She’s at book club,’ said the boy. ‘But they don’t read books.’
‘Book club?’ Patrick was surprised because he had just seen Rosie outside the kitchen.
‘Would you like me to call her?’
‘She’ll be so angry,’ said Isabelle.
‘She’ll have our guts for garters,’ said Killian, equally seriously.
Patrick was a little surprised. He wouldn’t have thought that Rosie was one of those furious parents, but perhaps she had changed since having children. It must be stressful running a hotel with two children and a husband who was more carouser than caregiver.
They settled back down, looking at him expectantly. Maureen laughed. ‘Now, don’t plague poor Patrick, begging for stories. He needs his sleep as well. And I’ll see if I can find your aunt, okay?’
Before he left the children, Patrick found two soft lambswool rugs which had been folded at the end of the sofas, which he draped over them and then told them a story that he remembered his mother used to tell him and Seán. And then, when their eyes were closed and their breathing deep, he went upstairs to his own room.
25
ROSIE
Rosie discovered Killian and Isabelle fast asleep in the lounge, each covered with one of the new Avoca rugs.
‘Where’s Laurence?’ whispered Rosie to Grace.
Grace shrugged. ‘No idea.’
Then they heard his voice from the bar area, singing ‘The Fields of Athenry’.
‘I’ll call Nessa,’ said Rosie, picking up her phone and dialling. ‘Ness? The children. They’re still here. What shall we do with them?’
