Page 51 of An Angel's Share
“Well let’s get it moved, and under lock and key. It’ll take me a while to age it, as the marks are all different and in the archive. I better get my reading glasses updated.” Marshall grins at Daddy. “Just imagine, brother...” His and Daddy’s eyes glaze over in dreamy contemplation.
“Well let’s keep this between the family only,” Daddy states and looks seriously at Ryan and Lara. “Loose lips sink ships. Especially with special whiskey in them.” They both make a gesture as if they are zipping their mouths shut.
“Can I help look for the mark, Uncle Marshall?” Ryan asks. “My eyes are really good.” He takes hold of his hand.
“Yes, of course. We’ll start when we get a minute. But the papers are really old and very special, so we have to be careful.” He’s nodding his head sagely at Ryan. “But once we know whose mark that is, we can get a good idea of age and then perhaps open the barrel and have a look inside. Maybe do a cask draw.” He makes a scooping motion. “I’ll let your grandad tell you what that is.”
Everyone is smiling. It’s the most thrilling thing to happen in years. Tommy comes and helps Jonno load the cask onto a barrow, then onto a buggy.
“I’ll show you where it needs to go, where no one will find it,” Daddy says as he gets into the buggy beside Tommy and Jonno climbs in the back with the cask. “Now remember everyone, not a word to anyone else until we know what we have.” He looks around at us all and they pull off, Jonno hanging onto the cask for dear life.
I’m not quite sure how any of us are sitting at dinner so normally. Everyone is twitching, and bursts of manic laughter can be heard periodically. But there are other people at the table, not just family, so I steer theconversation away from a hidden whiskey barrel to other matters.
“We’re going to Dublin tomorrow for a pamper day,” I announce to the whole table once we’re all sat in the large dining room.
“Who’s we?” asks Mammy. “I can’t go, I’ve got a community meeting in Greystones Church. Maggie, you’re coming aren’t you?”
“Is that the one you both roll back out of? After trying out the local wine?” Daddy grins at her as she tries to tell us all that they have to be supportive of rural businesses.
“It’s fine, Mammy. Christy, Evie, and I are going.”
“Well how can you have a pamper day when you can’t even drink?” asks Maggie in amazement. “More for you, Christy,” she states enviously. Clearly Mammy and Maggie’s pamper days have a theme.
Christy hits back. “Unlike you and Mae, Mother, we don’t class a pamper day as guzzling prosecco until it comes out of our pores. We’re going to the hairdressers, and a bit of shopping. All very civilised.”
It goads my mother, who is looking at me like I’m mad. A pamper day and no prosecco, or champagne? It’s not the done thing.
“Are you taking the baby?” I ask Evie.
“Yes, I’ll have to. Is that okay? Valentina can come, she loves the hairdressers. She had an Indian head massage and fell asleep at the basin. I left her there for an hour last time.” She smiles appreciatively at her nanny.
“Jude’s coming,” Jonno informs us, his excitement undeniable. “He phoned me earlier. Shall I get him to meet you in Dublin? You can fetch him home with you.”
“Not another Greystone,” Liam the comedian pipes up. “We’ll be at Greystone house soon, if you keep multiplying at this rate.” He laughs, but no one else does.
“Yep, just need Jackson and Jake. Maybe we’ll invite over the other Greystones, the Irish lot. Danny is it? Keep the numbers up.” The smirk is wiped from Liam's face as Jonno invokes the name of Danny Greystone.
Patrick chokes out a noise then states forcibly, “Don’t mention that man to me. He’s a total pain. Wasn’t even here, but managed to block all our plans last year for a music festival in his field. We’d run the numbers, the profits, the logistics, everything. Told us to bleep off.” Patrick looks around at everyone, expecting sympathy.
Until Jonno can’t contain himself and clarifies, “He blockedyourfestival inhisfield?” He shakes his head trying to understand the implication and logic of that statement. “Did you not ask him first?”
“Well, it should actually be our field,” Liam hits us with. “It’s a dispute, I looked into it. Some dispute from years ago. It’s an O’Clery field and Seamus—your grandfather, Aoife—let the Greystones take it. He should never have done that. So we decided to claim it back and make some money from it.” He and Patrick look smugly at each other, as if the festival happened and they made oodles of cash.
“Oh my God, was it that festival? Didn’t the garda get involved? You nearly got arrested, didn't you Patrick, for trespassing.”
I’m trying not to laugh, but they’re totally absurd and ridiculous. How could Patrick be stealing our money? How can he be so clever, whilst being so thick? It must be an act, a charade, making everyone think he is stupid. No wonder Jonno thinks it’s me. Patrick—in fact, both he and Liam—couldn’t seem to run a bath, never mind a serious heist.
“Well, yes, but it was a misunderstanding and got sorted.”
He looks to Christy to say something nice about him, defend him, as she would always have done in the past. She just stares past him. No words. His face falls and he’s practically starting to twitch. Christy is going for it on the torture stakes, she might need to rein it in. But still I’m so proud of her.
24
Aoife
The next morning,we load up the car and wave at Jonno and Marshall, who have plans to take the twins swimming in the stream with Ryan and Lara. I see Lara issuing orders and the twins lining up in an orderly fashion.
“Looks like Lara has them whipped into shape. She’s like you, Christy, on the organisational spectrum.” I nod amused.
