Page 29 of An Irish Kiss
“Now, do you like it?It’s only seventy euros—”
Which was how much in Australian dollars?
“—but you’ll always know it’s real wool and been hand-knitted here in Ireland.Not any of that cheap polyester stuff from China.”
These two ladies might look sweet but they sure knew how to put on the hard sell.“I might need to think about it,” he hedged.
“Well, I wouldn’t think too long if I were you, lad.You might be our first customer today, but you surely won’t be our last.What’s to say someone won’t just walk in here and snap it up the moment they see how beautiful it is?”
“That’s a risk I’m going to have to take,” he said gravely.
The other woman sighed.“Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when you return and it’s nigh disappeared.”
Wow.These two were good.“Fine.I’ll take it.”
Their faces wreathed in matching grins.“You won’t regret it, young man.”
He handed over his card, refusing to gawk at the price.It wasn’t like he hadn’t set aside funds for the occasional Irish souvenir.And a jumper-cardigan was exactly the kind of non-tacky souvenir he preferred, rather than a dust collector like something his Gran had too many of.Which reminded him…
“Have you got anything that my grandmother might like?”
The taller one chortled.“Well, now, that’s a challenge indeed, seeing as neither of us know your grandmother.But if you’re asking what ladies of our vintage might like, then you can’t go past this beautiful blanket, hand-knitted by Dorie and myself.”
“Hmm.”He fingered it.It was very pretty, but, “It’s very pink.”
“She’s not a fan of pink?”
“Not really.”Not at all.But these two seemed fond of the colour, seeing as they were dressed head to toe in it.
“Well, it is a steal at only eighty euros, but if she does not like pink…” Dorie moved to another one, held out the edge.“Perhaps this might be more her cup of tea.”
He willed his nose to not wrinkle.“Um, I don’t think yellow and purple is her preference either.”
“What?Well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.But it’s only ninety euros.That makes it a bargain, especially as it is made from—”
“Let me guess: it’s real wool and—”
“None of that cheap polyester stuff from China.”She nodded.
“I actually don’t think a blanket will work.Now I think of it I’ll need something smaller that I can pack in my suitcase more easily.”He glanced around.“Um, what about this?”He held up an odd-looking hat.It had holes in it.“Is this a beret?”
“Oh dear no.”Dorie and her friend laughed.“That is a tea cosy.But you could wear it on your head if you preferred.”
His cheeks heated.“How much is that?”
“Only twenty euros.But you’ll know it’s made with real wool and hand knitted—”
“—in Ireland, yes.Fine.I’ll take it.”
He didn’t care if it wasn’t exactly something he could see his grandmother using.He could give it to his sister as her token Irish souvenir if necessary.Regardless of if she liked it, he needed to get out of here, and he guessed the old lady and their hard-sell spiels would keep on going until he bought up half the shop.
They wrapped his purchases in paper, warned him about how to wash ‘real wool’, then he paid, and they explained about the VAT refund for tourists.“For you are a tourist, yes?”
“I’m from Australia.”
This then led to them sharing about various family members and friends who had moved there, and he had to admit he didn’t know them either.
“Oh!So you’re the one who has come here claiming that your family owns the old castle on the Griffin estate.”
