The Guesthouse on the Green Series Box Set 2

yer man Christopher you’re so keen on flashes his winky, a lot.’ Roisin hadn’t though that telling her mammy that was why she wanted to see the film would sway the odds in her favour. She never had gotten to see Christopher Atkins’ winky, she lamented now as Mr Customs, who she saw upon inspection was called Declan, eyed her before returning to his passport scrutiny. She could hear someone cough and imagined a great deal of impatient shuffling going on in the queue behind them.
‘Is something the matter, Declan?’ Yes, it was bold of her being on first name terms with a man who had the power to stop her entering her own country but sure they were all Irish, weren’t they? He didn’t look up and she began to feel guilty. Of what, she wasn’t sure but a sweat broke out on her forehead further incriminating her, nonetheless. Okay, so she’d blinked and the half-opened eyes she was sporting in the picture he was studying along with lank hair she should have washed before getting the photo taken but had been in too much of a big, disorganised rush to do so wasn’t the best. She’d hold her hand up to understanding that she had the look of someone who might have a kilo of the hard stuff strapped to their person in it but, all he had to do was look at her face to see she’d struggle to smuggle in so much as an extra carton of cigarettes, if she smoked that was. The seconds ticked by with him not answering her and just as she was about to throw herself on his mercy and shout, ‘I’m innocent!’ He snapped her passport shut and slid them both back to her. Noah seized his chance.
‘This is Mr Nibbles, my gerbil, I only got him yesterday he’s coming with me and Mum to stay with Nana and my aunties for Christmas.’
At last Declan turned his attention to the jiggling lad. ‘Ah well now, I’m sure they’ll be looking forward to meeting yer man there.’ He leaned down from his perch and peered into the cage. ‘Hello there, Mr Nibbles, did you have a good flight?’
Roisin wondered if he’d get through the rest of his shift without the two buttons stretched over his middle pinging off and Jaysus, now that she looked properly, the poor man had a nasty case of razor burn going on there, so he did. She was pleased Mammy was on the other side of the wall because if she saw the state of his neck, she’d be recommending the E45 cream to him too.
‘It was his first time on an aeroplane and he’s gone and done a lot of poo,’ Noah explained earnestly. ‘Mummy says it’s because of all the greens he eats which is why I don’t eat my broccoli but I think he was scared of being up in the sky.’
Declan looked a little taken aback at the turn the conversation had taken. It wasn’t every day he encountered a little boy with a broccoli aversion whose mother looked like a hardened drug smuggler in her passport photo along with a gerbil that had shat himself because he was frightened of flying.
‘Ah well then, best you get on your way to your nana’s house so you can sort the poor fella out. A Merry Christmas to you both.’ He waved them through and Roisin heard a smattering of applause behind her. She didn’t look back as she said, ‘And to you,’ before heading for the sliding doors of freedom.
Mammy had informed Roisin over the telephone when they’d gotten home yesterday that she would wear a bright yellow sweater and black chinos so as to be easily identifiable. Her tone had been hushed as though she were a spy in the cold war. Indeed, she’d told Roisin she’d seen a very good film the night before called From Russia with Love. She was always very easily influenced, was Mammy.
‘But, Mammy,’ Roisin had said. ‘It’s Dublin airport, it’s not exactly JFK. I’ll be able to find you.’
‘It’s busy this time of the year, Rosi. You’ll thank me for it. Yellow sweater, remember that, and you’ll be grand.’
‘Look for a yellow sweater, Noah.’
‘There, Mum, over there.’
She followed the line of her son’s finger and spotted her mammy jumping up and down waving out. She was a busy bee with swishy dark hair in a garden of weary travellers, Roisin thought poetically. Mammy was right she was grateful for her sunny colour scheme. She always felt sorry for people who walked through those doors and had no one waiting to greet them. Although, she thought waving back, she’d want to stop with the star jumps or she’d likely have an accident.
Noah rushed on ahead keen to introduce the newest member of the family. The cage was banging against his leg and Roisin called out for him to slow down even though she knew she was wasting her breath. Poor Mr Nibbles was really being put through the wringer today and once again, she cursed Colin. What had he been thinking? She slowed her pace. It was Noah who’d been adamant that Mr Nibbles was coming to Dublin so, let him explain to his nana why he had a furry friend in tow.
Dragging her heels, she witnessed fear followed by horror flashing in her mammy’s eyes as she looked at the cage and shrieked, ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Noah, what’s that?’ She looked up then seeking out her daughter and pinned her down with a set of twin tasers. ‘Roisin Quealey nee O’Mara, get yourself over here now.’
Charming, what happened to welcome home, darling? Her mammy’s stinger was definitely out, Roisin thought, knowing there was nowhere to run to. She pulled up alongside her son.
‘Did you know about this?’ Maureen O’Mara, her face a mottled red, jabbed in the direction of the cage.
‘Erm that Noah was bringing Mr Nibbles on holiday?’
‘Don’t be clever with me, young lady,