Smarty Girl by Honor Molloy

Author:Honor Molloy [MOLLOY, HONOR]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9781936846207
Publisher: GemmaMedia
Published: 2012-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

Her sister, Fiona O’Feeney, scholarship kid at Alexandra College for Girls, is out on the lane mid the chaos of Noleen’s birthday. Party guests swarm the place like cattle. Leeny’s got all the boys from her class up on the roof of the scene shed. They’re tramping about the corrugated tin, playing pirates, or Gulliver’s Travels, something adventuresome.

Yip-yip yahoo. Noleen launches from roof to the side lawn, landing solid. All the boys soon follow her. Fiona’s just about to put a stop to this for fear of their lives when Paddy’s cab bustles down the lane. Who’s inside but her Uncle Nick, home from London. Strange, for he only comes Christmas-time. Once Christmas is gone, the family has to wait the whole year round to see him again. But here it is Spring and he’s home.

In the house, Noleen’s fire has been ablaze straight through since morning. The three-legged pot oven sits in the glowing peat. Their Mam makes bread in the fire, slashes a cross in the dough with a knife. That’s God there, baking into the loaf.

There with his suitcase by the door, stands Uncle Nick fresh off the boat from Holyhead.

Jayzus, Dominick. Shoulda sent a telegram. Olly carries pillow and covers down the stairs. Wet the tea, will you Mara?

Auntie Mara’s in the kitchen. She’s over from Dean’s Grange on party duty.

Yeh divil. What a surprise. Mara wipes her fingers with a clean nappy, heading towards Nick in welcome.

Fiona hurries to the couch, clearing the way for her uncle. She moves Noleen’s birthday toys to the dining table beside what’s left of the two-layer cake she baked this morning. Pink icing, laden with marshmallows. It turned out spectacular. Fiona has excellent marks in cookery class. Fact, she has excellent marks all together.

I don’t want fuss. Uncle Nick slinks into the pillow, bunching the covers under his arms. He’s falling through himself, he’s so skinny. What’s the matter with him? Fiona wants to ask.

Careful. Slow. Olly rests Uncle Nick’s legs on the arm of the couch.

Don’t bother, Nick says. Don’t you bother. Nick is tall, his legs stick out miles.

There’s plenty of food left from Noleen’s party, Olly says. Like some peanuts? Stish-pashy-ohs?

It’s pistachios, Fee says.

American muck. Mara frowns. From their other granny.

Granny Volk sent two crates packed with birthday goodies. There’s M&Ms and a barrel covered with Pennsylvania Dutch hex signs. It’s a tin of pretzels individually wrapped in sellophane. Printed on each package are tractors, farmers, and pigtailed girls in Heidi skirts. The pigtailed girls kick up their heels, “Ist Gut!“ stamped next to their mouths.

Would you want a pretzel? Fiona asks her uncle. Look at the package, “Ist gut!” it says.

Don’t like Germans, Nick says.

“Nicht gut.” Olly jokes him. Where’s that tea, Mara?

Bluebottle flies buzz at the kitchen window. Auntie Mara’s up to her neck in bubbles, rinsing the pots and pans. Wish you’d told us you were coming.

Olly elbows past her to the tap. You’re good for nothing in the kitchen. He fills the kettle himself.

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