sweety
12-12-2010, 11:50 AM
Late one summer's evening as night was approaching Sally O’Reilly heard a thud coming from the bottom of her garden and went to investigate. Moving along the hedgerow, so as not to be seen, she stumbled and fell.
Alerted by the row, the lurking shadow made off. Sally ran indoors, securing the kitchen door behind her before staring down the garden path from the safety of her cottage. Then she heard Ned her neighbour's dog barking. "Cats are prowling" she thought.
Ghost stories surfacing from her childhood of headless horsemen gave her the jitters, frightened and intrigued she continued her vigil for a while longer before she retired for the night.
Sunday morning at the little café in the tiny village of Thistledown, Sally was telling her friend Lucy about her misfortune in the garden. ''It must have been terrifying for you'' she said, when Sally finished.
''Mind you, there was talk of a Peeping Tom, why, Mrs MacIntyre reported only last week to sergeant Donahue, that someone was watching her undressing for bed."
''The old grouse should be so lucky.''
''You're right '', Sally went on, "imagine anyone wanting to cop an eyeful of Molly MacIntyre naked." Lucy was in stitches.
"Then I overheard the carpenter telling Father O’Dwyer that he had to reinforce her bed with steel rods, mind, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything.." and they started laughing again. "Then father O'Dwyer asked him what he thought about a "Get Fit Night" for the lady’s at the community centre."
''The cheek of him" said Lucy highly indignant. Being on the plum side herself she didn't appreciate his comments. "What about the men.." she went on, "why the ones with short arms have trouble opening their front doors because of their pot-bellies getting in the way, Mary Allen's fellow has to turn sideways'', screaming with laughter they ordered a pot of tea, "their no good for kissing either.''
''Will you be mother?'' Lucy asked, ''while I fetch the scones.'' And came back with two chocolate éclairs, "we might well have a little pleasure before being roped in to the Get Fit class."
''My, they are delicious and what if it was a would-be burglar casing my cottage" Sally interrupted. ''Now you're not to worry'', Lucy told her friend, ''we will inform the sergeant after mass, eat your bun.''
Walking up the aisle they sat next to Tania McMahon, who greeted them shyly and was about to draw them to into her confidence, when the voice of missus Moran boomed out, telling them to make room for her, as usual she had the well-worn greenish cushion with her.
''The knees'', she would say, ''scrubbing floors for the big houses left their scars on my swollen knees."
''Who is he?" asked Sally, pointing her finger at the man who just came in. On the rare occasion a tourist stumbled into the village looking for a bed for the night, but you’d hardly ever see one at church. ''Probably a lost poor soul'', Lucy whispered in her friends ear.
Father O’Dwyer came to the pulpit, opened the bible, blessed himself and said: ''Let us begin.''
When the mass ended, the Father walked down the aisle, nodding in a friendly manner and opened the great oak doors. The sunshine invading the churches interior and the gentle breeze evaporating the humid incense.
Father O’Dwyer shook each hand as the congregation filed out and thanked all for coming.
Going back down the steep hill they saw Tania up ahead, walking with a purpose to her step. The tourist hot on her heels, was trying to overtake her, but he was no match for Tania, an enthusiastic hill walker.
Then she made a dash for the pub followed by the man. ''Now what’s that all about..'' said Lucy, finding the whole thing interesting and decided to follow.
"You have a knack for this sort of thing", Sally told her friend. In the pub they couldn't see Tania anywhere, "she must have gone out the back, let's keep an eye on the man", who, after drinking a small whiskey, left the pub and walked to the Garda station and they saw him go in. ''Let's go!" said Lucy, "you might as well tell sergeant Donahue about last night and maybe we learn something about the tourist."
Inside the station, sergeant Donahue and the lost tourist were chatting away like old buddies. "Well thanks again Shamus", he said to the sergeant and left. ''Who is he?" asked Lucy. ''He came all the way from Australia, it seems Tania is his long-lost sister and he wanted her address.''
They were delighted for Tania. "Well, we only came about an intruder" and after getting a promise he would call on her that very evening, they took their leave.
Lucy arrived late that evening and the sergeant not long afterwards. "Now you must try my new batch of cider.''
"Look'' said Sally, a shadow was moving. ''Let's have a look and see'', said the sergeant. Making their way to the bottom of the garden, they were surprised to see missus Moran burying her old cat in the bushes.
"Was that you, last night?", asked Sally. ''Yes, I couldn’t afford a proper burial for him'' missus Moran was saying "and living over the green grocer shop I don't have a haggard."
''You poor dear'' said Lucy consolingly. Back at the house Sally poured four glasses of her home-made cider and after a few more glasses they buried the cat. "And what are we to make of Father O’Dwyer's "Get Fit" class" said Lucy, who was by now intoxicated and laughter escaped into the jet-black-night.
:cheers2:
Alerted by the row, the lurking shadow made off. Sally ran indoors, securing the kitchen door behind her before staring down the garden path from the safety of her cottage. Then she heard Ned her neighbour's dog barking. "Cats are prowling" she thought.
Ghost stories surfacing from her childhood of headless horsemen gave her the jitters, frightened and intrigued she continued her vigil for a while longer before she retired for the night.
Sunday morning at the little café in the tiny village of Thistledown, Sally was telling her friend Lucy about her misfortune in the garden. ''It must have been terrifying for you'' she said, when Sally finished.
''Mind you, there was talk of a Peeping Tom, why, Mrs MacIntyre reported only last week to sergeant Donahue, that someone was watching her undressing for bed."
''The old grouse should be so lucky.''
''You're right '', Sally went on, "imagine anyone wanting to cop an eyeful of Molly MacIntyre naked." Lucy was in stitches.
"Then I overheard the carpenter telling Father O’Dwyer that he had to reinforce her bed with steel rods, mind, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything.." and they started laughing again. "Then father O'Dwyer asked him what he thought about a "Get Fit Night" for the lady’s at the community centre."
''The cheek of him" said Lucy highly indignant. Being on the plum side herself she didn't appreciate his comments. "What about the men.." she went on, "why the ones with short arms have trouble opening their front doors because of their pot-bellies getting in the way, Mary Allen's fellow has to turn sideways'', screaming with laughter they ordered a pot of tea, "their no good for kissing either.''
''Will you be mother?'' Lucy asked, ''while I fetch the scones.'' And came back with two chocolate éclairs, "we might well have a little pleasure before being roped in to the Get Fit class."
''My, they are delicious and what if it was a would-be burglar casing my cottage" Sally interrupted. ''Now you're not to worry'', Lucy told her friend, ''we will inform the sergeant after mass, eat your bun.''
Walking up the aisle they sat next to Tania McMahon, who greeted them shyly and was about to draw them to into her confidence, when the voice of missus Moran boomed out, telling them to make room for her, as usual she had the well-worn greenish cushion with her.
''The knees'', she would say, ''scrubbing floors for the big houses left their scars on my swollen knees."
''Who is he?" asked Sally, pointing her finger at the man who just came in. On the rare occasion a tourist stumbled into the village looking for a bed for the night, but you’d hardly ever see one at church. ''Probably a lost poor soul'', Lucy whispered in her friends ear.
Father O’Dwyer came to the pulpit, opened the bible, blessed himself and said: ''Let us begin.''
When the mass ended, the Father walked down the aisle, nodding in a friendly manner and opened the great oak doors. The sunshine invading the churches interior and the gentle breeze evaporating the humid incense.
Father O’Dwyer shook each hand as the congregation filed out and thanked all for coming.
Going back down the steep hill they saw Tania up ahead, walking with a purpose to her step. The tourist hot on her heels, was trying to overtake her, but he was no match for Tania, an enthusiastic hill walker.
Then she made a dash for the pub followed by the man. ''Now what’s that all about..'' said Lucy, finding the whole thing interesting and decided to follow.
"You have a knack for this sort of thing", Sally told her friend. In the pub they couldn't see Tania anywhere, "she must have gone out the back, let's keep an eye on the man", who, after drinking a small whiskey, left the pub and walked to the Garda station and they saw him go in. ''Let's go!" said Lucy, "you might as well tell sergeant Donahue about last night and maybe we learn something about the tourist."
Inside the station, sergeant Donahue and the lost tourist were chatting away like old buddies. "Well thanks again Shamus", he said to the sergeant and left. ''Who is he?" asked Lucy. ''He came all the way from Australia, it seems Tania is his long-lost sister and he wanted her address.''
They were delighted for Tania. "Well, we only came about an intruder" and after getting a promise he would call on her that very evening, they took their leave.
Lucy arrived late that evening and the sergeant not long afterwards. "Now you must try my new batch of cider.''
"Look'' said Sally, a shadow was moving. ''Let's have a look and see'', said the sergeant. Making their way to the bottom of the garden, they were surprised to see missus Moran burying her old cat in the bushes.
"Was that you, last night?", asked Sally. ''Yes, I couldn’t afford a proper burial for him'' missus Moran was saying "and living over the green grocer shop I don't have a haggard."
''You poor dear'' said Lucy consolingly. Back at the house Sally poured four glasses of her home-made cider and after a few more glasses they buried the cat. "And what are we to make of Father O’Dwyer's "Get Fit" class" said Lucy, who was by now intoxicated and laughter escaped into the jet-black-night.
:cheers2: