Page 33 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Yah!’ a woman called out, followed by calls of ‘Ja bitte!’ and ‘Willkommen!’
‘They’re all happy to meet you,’ Cheryl said, piling tangy bean salad on her plate and patting Atticus’s arm. ‘You’ll soon get to know us,’ she smiled. ‘Nights like this are called speed-dating the neighbourhood.’
Atticus had never heard of speed-dating and had no idea what Cheryl meant. He wondered if it was some sort of ‘gossip grapevine’ – an expression Clara used for keeping up with things in the village. But as the night wore on and he continued to down glasses of sangria, while Erik circled with brandy, Atticus soon got to know everyone.
Several people picked up their ukuleles and began to play, and someone produced a drum. It turned into an international singsong, and delighted to be included, Atticus joined in whenever he could.
Falling fully clothed into bed hours later, his head wasspinning as he gave Ness a tipsy grin and nestled her into his arm. ‘That’s what you call fast-tracking friendship…’ Atticus muttered. ‘I think I’m going to like it here.’
In moments, Atticus Arnott, the Cumbrian Cowboy, was out for the count as he fell into a deep and delightful sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
After damp weather all week, Saturday morning in Kindale was fine and sunny. Mary dropped Finn off for a football game, hoping the team would play on the club’s Astroturf. There were no shower facilities at the club and playing on the rain-soaked field would mean Finn returned like a mud ball and despite wrapping him in a bin liner, the car would need to be valeted.
Fortunately, car valeting was an additional service offered by Roisin’s Shamrock Shine. Roisin’s brother Ruari, who was not only the most handsome man in Kindale but also a dab-hand with a chamois, ran the valeting amenity. Mary wasn’t precious about her vehicle but as Conor insisted that she keep it in pristine condition, she never hesitated to engage Roisin’s Shamrock Shine whenever her vehicle needed cleaning. Ruari, known locally as Romeo Ruari, was effusive with his flirting and flattery and, in only five minutes, could make Mary feel twenty-one again.
Ruari’s daughter, Ola, was the same age as Declan, andMary occasionally ran into him at school events. Since parting from his wife, the divorced Ruari had become the undisputed heartthrob of Kindale. With his dark, handsome looks and shoulders broad enough to carry a week’s worth of shopping, Mary knew that his smile could melt the frost off the town’s coldest women. Mary’s friend Una often muttered that‘Half the females in the town would throw themselves under a bus for him…’and Mary’s nosy neighbour had been caught straightening her cardigan and peering down the drive whenever Ruari was bent over Mary’s Range Rover, engaged in a buff and polish.
But as she made a mental note to book her vehicle in for a valet, Mary smiled. She had no doubt that Ruari wouldn’t be on the open market for long and was as likely to stay single as a tray of Helen’s scones at the Eden craft fair. Already, there was a queue of women tripping in and out of Gaelic Glow, emerging with plumped lips and fresh highlights before cornering Ruari with a well-timed apple crumble or a casserole piled so high with dumplings it was almost a marriage proposal.
Mary remembered that she’d not spoken to Mungo, who was probably sulking that she’d abruptly ended their call and, knowing her brother, the sulk could last for days. Still, she’d sent a text to Jake, who told her he was grounded, but that he’d heard from his grandad and so far, the trip was going to plan. Reminding herself that she must ask Jake for her dad’s mobile number, Mary hoped that Atticus was enjoying himself.
As Mary drove through the colourful streets of Kindale, where the houses and shops were painted in bright shades,she thought of Conor, who was at work and had left the house early. After the dinner at the golf club, she’d asked him if his meeting had been successful, and he told her that things may eventually go in his favour, but he didn’t want to say more for fear of jinxing things. It was an unusual comment, as they generally shared all things work-related. With Conor so preoccupied, Mary hoped the deal would close soon so he could have more time for her and the kids.
Caitlin was child-minding Declan that morning, and Maeve, glued to Instagram, was looking for makeup tricks to make her the most desirable female at the school’s ’80s themed disco that evening. The sixth year had come up with a charity event to raise money for a proposed allotment. With Caitlin on the allotment committee and Maeve suddenly deciding that she was adopting a plant-based regime, Mary knew that the girls were keen to go.
To Mary’s surprise, Conor had suggested that after dropping the girls off, they go for a quiet drink in Kindale. Mary, who’d arranged babysitting for Finn and Declan, was looking forward to an unexpected date night with her husband, and with time to spare – while Finn dreamt of premiership football and raced around the pitch – she was now on her way to Gaelic Glow for a facial, followed by a shampoo and blow-dry.
‘I shall look like the belle of the ball,’ Mary assured herself as she found a parking space outside the salon. ‘Well, half-decent, at least, in the dimly lit Salty Dog Inn.’
As Mary settled herself on the comfortable bed in the therapy room, she let her thoughts wander as a beautician applied lotions toher skin.
So far, the diet Mary had begun earlier in the week was progressing. That evening, she planned to wear the gorgeous designer jeans she’d bought last Christmas and never fit into because they were too tight. The couple of pounds she’d lost had made a difference, and the jeans now zipped up. Mary contemplated digging out her Lycra knickers for added shape but knew she’d be unlikely to sit down comfortably. And what if Conor felt amorous when they got home? Beige Bounce Buster Briefs were hardly a turn-on.
‘Anything planned for the weekend?’ The beautician asked as she pummelled exfoliator into Mary’s cheeks.
‘A date night with my husband,’ Mary replied. As she felt her face grow hot, she wondered if the beautician was using an industrial sander.
‘A date night?’ the beautician asked, holding a rotating device to scrape exfoliator from Mary’s skin. ‘Imagine that – romance is still in the air, even after all these years and four kids.’
‘Yes, we like to keep our marriage alive.’
‘Most marriages fall flat after the third baby, especially when the pounds pile on.’
Mary felt the slight and wished the busybody beautician would keep her nose out of things. Had Mary not been assured that the facial would make her look ten years younger, she might be giving the Gaelic Glow gossip a mouthful.
Determined to ignore any further conversation and relax into the treatment, Mary feigned sleep, letting out a barely audible snore. It did the trick, and soon the beauticianworked in silence. As Mary drifted away, she thought of her week and the session she’d put in at the gym. It hadn’t been terribly successful.
Only fifteen minutes in, feeling hot and sweaty from the treadmill, she’d moved to an upright bike, tuning the monitor to daytime TV, and began to gently peddle. A woman onGood Morning Irelandwas moaning about her husband, Hubert, who’d left her to join a reclusive cult. Engrossed in the programme and wondering how Hubert was coping with the five wives he’d gained since joining the cult, Mary didn’t look up when someone straddled the bike beside her and began to cycle as though competing in an event.
As the programme ended, a helpline number for an adultery hotline appeared on Mary’s screen, and she heard a voice call out.
‘Making a note of the number?’
Mary spun around and, to her horror, saw that the Lycra-clad figure beside her was none other than Lucinda Darby. Standing out like a pearl amongst stones, Lucinda seemed out of place in her sleek workout gear. Mary tugged on her baggy old top and wished she’d worn more fashionable leggings. Lucinda’s unmistakably high-end, form-fitting top screamed ‘designer’, the expensive moisture-wicking fabric contouring her figure into flawless proportions. Luxurious leggings hugged Lucinda’s lean limbs.
Mary ignored the catty comment and grabbed her towel. Wiping perspiration from her sweaty brow, she took a drink from her water bottle and, with a forcedsmile, greeted Lucinda. ‘I thought you’d be hard at work in the office at this time of day,’ Mary said.
