sweety
12-23-2010, 06:05 AM
Late one 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.
Ghost stories surfacing from her childhood of headless horsemen gave her the jitters, frightened and intrigued she continued her vigil for a while longer. Then she heard Ned, the neighbour's dog, barking. "Must be the cats prowling" she thought and went to bed.
Next morning before breakfast she walked to the end of the garden, the chirping of the birds keeping her company as she went, she stopped where she thought it was about here that she heard the racket last night. In the bushes she saw that the earth had been overturned, it didn't look like a dog was responsible or the cats. More like someone using a shovel. ''So there was an intruder here last night'' she reasoned.
After breakfast she put on her Sunday best and walked to the little café in the petite village of Thistledown, to rendezvous with her best friend Lucy, who was already seated and reading a Sunday newspaper. Putting it aside she listened to Sally telling about her adventure 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 extra planks, mind, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything.."
"By the way the Father also mentioned something about a "Get Fit Night" for the lady’s at the community centre."
''The cheeky beggar " said Lucy. Being on the plum side herself she didn't appreciate his innuendos . "What about the men.." she went on, "their pot-bellies are the fame of the County.''
''Now don’t be so sensitive. A pot of tea please Chrissie and if you will excuse the pun, two bun’s, chocolate éclairs I think''.
"They are no good for kissing either.'' said Lucy. ''What are you talking about?'' asked Sally. ''The men folk'' said Lucy pouring out the tea.
''My, they are delicious, we might well have a little pleasure before being roped in to the Get Fit class."
"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 steep hill to the old church, Lucy remarked on the need for a get fit at all after the climb. Walking up the aisle, out of breath, they sat next to Tania McMahon, a new comer to the village, who greeted them shyly and was about to draw them to into her confidence, when the baritone voice of missus Moran wanted 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 knees" and sat down.
''Who is he?" asked Sally, pointing her finger at the man who just came in. On a 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 soul'', Lucy whispered in her friends ear "and he’s better looking than most of the fellows here."
Their gossiping ended when Father O’Dwyer put in an appearance and said: ''Let us begin.'' After his sermon he talked about the importance of keeping fit and that he hoped all the village women would participate in his fitness class. And after blessing the congregation he walked down the aisle, nodding in a friendly manner and opened the great oak doors, allowing the sunshine to invade the churches interior and the gentle breeze evaporating the humid incense.
Father O’Dwyer shook each hand as the worshippers 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 with the man pursuing her.
''Now what’s that all about..'' said Lucy, finding the whole thing stimulating and decided to follow. "You read to many detective stories, but I will say, you have a knack for this sort of thing", Sally told her friend.
And they followed him into the pub, Tania was nowhere to be seen. "She must have gone out the back'' said Sally. "Let's keep an eye on the man", Lucy was enjoying herself.
After drinking a small whiskey, he left the lounge bar and headed for the Garda station. Seeing him go in, Lucy said: ''Let's go, you might as well tell sergeant Donahue about last night and maybe we can learn a thing or two about the tourist."
The door was ajar and they quietly sneaked in. Sergeant Donahue and the lost tourist were chatting away like old buddies. The sergeant was writing something on a piece of paper. ''Now'' he said, "this is her address, just follow these instructions and you can't miss it.''
"Well thanks again Shamus", he said to the sergeant. ''Ladies'' he said, tipping his cap.
''Isn’t he very cultured'' Lucy was saying, ''And handsome" interrupted Sally, "who is he?" ''Travelled all the way from Australia, to find his long-lost sister, looking for her address he was.''
''Well go on then, we're not mind readers.'' ''Tania'' he said. They were pleased. She often spoke of a childhood brother. It seems both parents were killed in a car crash and they were sent to an orphanage and got separated.
''I love a happy ending'' said Lucy.
''Now how can I help you?'' he asked, wrinkling his nose. "Well'' said Sally, last night I interrupted someone trying to bury something at the bottom of my garden''. ''It might be the devil worshippers we have been reading about in the papers'' said Lucy ''and maybe the sect was about to perform some diabolical ritual.''
Sally was shocked and frightened at the very idea and was visibly shaken. The sergeant, seeing her stress, tried to restore her equilibrium saying he would call on her that very evening, hoping it would be enough to calm her down.
Outside Lucy apologised to her friend for teasing her. ''Let's have a drink, this detecting business is challenging.'' And after a few shorts, Sally was her old self again.
After closing time they promised to rendezvous at Sally’s.
Lucy arrived late that evening and the sergeant not long afterwards.
"Now you must try my new batch of cider'' Sally said and went to fetch a bottle from the cellar. When she got back she heard Lucy’s high pitched voice shouting: "Look....!" ''There’s something moving, let's go see'', said the sergeant.
Making their way to the bottom of the garden, they were surprised to catch missus Moran in the act of digging a hole. She explained she wanted to bury her old cat in amongst the foliage.
"Was that you, last night?", asked Sally.
''Yes, I couldn’t afford a proper burial for him'' missus Moran was saying "and I don’t have a garden myself living over the green grocer shop."
''You poor dear'' said Lucy consolingly. Back at the house Sally was relieved, ghost and headless horsemen gone from her mind, she poured four glasses of her best home-made cider and said: "Let's have a wake for missus Moran’s cat."
And after a few bottles 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, their laughter escaping into the jet black-night.
:smilewinkgrin:
Ghost stories surfacing from her childhood of headless horsemen gave her the jitters, frightened and intrigued she continued her vigil for a while longer. Then she heard Ned, the neighbour's dog, barking. "Must be the cats prowling" she thought and went to bed.
Next morning before breakfast she walked to the end of the garden, the chirping of the birds keeping her company as she went, she stopped where she thought it was about here that she heard the racket last night. In the bushes she saw that the earth had been overturned, it didn't look like a dog was responsible or the cats. More like someone using a shovel. ''So there was an intruder here last night'' she reasoned.
After breakfast she put on her Sunday best and walked to the little café in the petite village of Thistledown, to rendezvous with her best friend Lucy, who was already seated and reading a Sunday newspaper. Putting it aside she listened to Sally telling about her adventure 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 extra planks, mind, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything.."
"By the way the Father also mentioned something about a "Get Fit Night" for the lady’s at the community centre."
''The cheeky beggar " said Lucy. Being on the plum side herself she didn't appreciate his innuendos . "What about the men.." she went on, "their pot-bellies are the fame of the County.''
''Now don’t be so sensitive. A pot of tea please Chrissie and if you will excuse the pun, two bun’s, chocolate éclairs I think''.
"They are no good for kissing either.'' said Lucy. ''What are you talking about?'' asked Sally. ''The men folk'' said Lucy pouring out the tea.
''My, they are delicious, we might well have a little pleasure before being roped in to the Get Fit class."
"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 steep hill to the old church, Lucy remarked on the need for a get fit at all after the climb. Walking up the aisle, out of breath, they sat next to Tania McMahon, a new comer to the village, who greeted them shyly and was about to draw them to into her confidence, when the baritone voice of missus Moran wanted 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 knees" and sat down.
''Who is he?" asked Sally, pointing her finger at the man who just came in. On a 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 soul'', Lucy whispered in her friends ear "and he’s better looking than most of the fellows here."
Their gossiping ended when Father O’Dwyer put in an appearance and said: ''Let us begin.'' After his sermon he talked about the importance of keeping fit and that he hoped all the village women would participate in his fitness class. And after blessing the congregation he walked down the aisle, nodding in a friendly manner and opened the great oak doors, allowing the sunshine to invade the churches interior and the gentle breeze evaporating the humid incense.
Father O’Dwyer shook each hand as the worshippers 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 with the man pursuing her.
''Now what’s that all about..'' said Lucy, finding the whole thing stimulating and decided to follow. "You read to many detective stories, but I will say, you have a knack for this sort of thing", Sally told her friend.
And they followed him into the pub, Tania was nowhere to be seen. "She must have gone out the back'' said Sally. "Let's keep an eye on the man", Lucy was enjoying herself.
After drinking a small whiskey, he left the lounge bar and headed for the Garda station. Seeing him go in, Lucy said: ''Let's go, you might as well tell sergeant Donahue about last night and maybe we can learn a thing or two about the tourist."
The door was ajar and they quietly sneaked in. Sergeant Donahue and the lost tourist were chatting away like old buddies. The sergeant was writing something on a piece of paper. ''Now'' he said, "this is her address, just follow these instructions and you can't miss it.''
"Well thanks again Shamus", he said to the sergeant. ''Ladies'' he said, tipping his cap.
''Isn’t he very cultured'' Lucy was saying, ''And handsome" interrupted Sally, "who is he?" ''Travelled all the way from Australia, to find his long-lost sister, looking for her address he was.''
''Well go on then, we're not mind readers.'' ''Tania'' he said. They were pleased. She often spoke of a childhood brother. It seems both parents were killed in a car crash and they were sent to an orphanage and got separated.
''I love a happy ending'' said Lucy.
''Now how can I help you?'' he asked, wrinkling his nose. "Well'' said Sally, last night I interrupted someone trying to bury something at the bottom of my garden''. ''It might be the devil worshippers we have been reading about in the papers'' said Lucy ''and maybe the sect was about to perform some diabolical ritual.''
Sally was shocked and frightened at the very idea and was visibly shaken. The sergeant, seeing her stress, tried to restore her equilibrium saying he would call on her that very evening, hoping it would be enough to calm her down.
Outside Lucy apologised to her friend for teasing her. ''Let's have a drink, this detecting business is challenging.'' And after a few shorts, Sally was her old self again.
After closing time they promised to rendezvous at Sally’s.
Lucy arrived late that evening and the sergeant not long afterwards.
"Now you must try my new batch of cider'' Sally said and went to fetch a bottle from the cellar. When she got back she heard Lucy’s high pitched voice shouting: "Look....!" ''There’s something moving, let's go see'', said the sergeant.
Making their way to the bottom of the garden, they were surprised to catch missus Moran in the act of digging a hole. She explained she wanted to bury her old cat in amongst the foliage.
"Was that you, last night?", asked Sally.
''Yes, I couldn’t afford a proper burial for him'' missus Moran was saying "and I don’t have a garden myself living over the green grocer shop."
''You poor dear'' said Lucy consolingly. Back at the house Sally was relieved, ghost and headless horsemen gone from her mind, she poured four glasses of her best home-made cider and said: "Let's have a wake for missus Moran’s cat."
And after a few bottles 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, their laughter escaping into the jet black-night.
:smilewinkgrin: