To Hatch a Thief by Zara Keane

Author:Zara Keane [Keane, Zara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-3-906245-51-5
Publisher: Beaverstone Press LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

8

When Saturday evening rolled around, my prayers for a relapse of the flu hadn’t been answered. The Valentine’s Day dance loomed, followed by Lenny’s infamous Chicken Night. With an air of gloomy resignation, I regarded the two outfits spread across Julie’s bed.

“The leprechaun dress has a certain charm,” my cousin said. “If it were St. Patrick’s Day. And if I were drunk.”

I groaned. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“Are you referring to the dancing chickens, or to a spin around the dance floor with Paddy Driscoll?” Julie’s eyes twinkled with merriment.

“Both.” I fingered the green felt of my leprechaun costume. “Although my dress for the Valentine’s dance is preferable to this outfit. I can’t believe your mother found me a leprechaun costume.”

“Before she started working at the library full-time, Mum was a leading light in the Whisper Island Dramatic Society. She still has connections, and they were only too happy to provide her with a female leprechaun costume.”

“It’s like a cross between every preschooler’s nightmare, and a stripper’s outfit.”

“You’ll be fine,” Julie said, her sincerity undermined by her struggle not to laugh. “Lenny will be wearing a similar outfit.”

“So we’ll both look like dorks. That image doesn’t bring me comfort.”

“Maybe the dance with Paddy will cheer you up. Speaking of dancing…” my cousin glanced at her watch, “…we’d better get moving if we’re to make it to the town hall on time.”

I grabbed the blue dress I was wearing for the first part of my evening. “Give me five, and I’ll be ready.”

I was as good as my word, even if I was still attempting to tame my mane when Julie pulled her MINI into the town hall’s parking lot fifteen minutes later.

She eyed my efforts with the brush. “From one curly-haired woman to another, give up, and let me have a go,” Julie said.

I handed over the brush, along with the fancy clip I’d somehow thought I could wrestle into my hair. “I always think I can make it look good,” I said, as my cousin ruthlessly attacked my scalp. “But I never can.”

Julie pulled my stubborn curls into an updo and secured it in place with the clip. “There,” she said, pleased with her handiwork. “That’s about as good as it’ll get. Ready to go inside?”

“No.” I opened the passenger door. “But I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t.”

I climbed out of the car and narrowly avoided stepping into a deep puddle. The heavy February rain had formed a series of glistening puddles in the parking lot, and raindrops pounded against my waterproof coat. Julie and I extended our umbrellas and ran for the entrance.

Inside the town hall, the dance was in full swing. Several of Whisper Island’s older couples were on the dance floor, performing performed steps I vaguely recognized from old movies, but could never recreate.

“Finally.” Noreen grabbed our arms and hauled us over to a refreshment stand where Julie’s parents were helping themselves to drinks.

Uncle John wore a pained expression on his craggy face.

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