The Guesthouse on the Green Series Box Set 2

glass and knew the view would be murky. She’d grown used to an urban outlook, Roisin realised, and the presence of a yipping poodle her mammy was infatuated with was only exacerbating the feeling of being somewhere new and foreign instead of in her mammy’s home. She’d get used to it she supposed.
Actually, now that she was taking a moment to look around, she realised the living room had a Vietnamese village feel to it. Or, at least how she imagined a Vietnamese village would feel. Although the village houses probably didn’t have sofas and big tellies in them. She smiled recalling the postcard Moira had sent to Noah that made mention of their mammy having gotten very excited over the local village’s handicrafts and she’d been worried she was going to get herself a Joseph and his Technicoloured coat in the local brocade fabric. She’d contented herself with cushion covers and throw blankets instead which were now strewn artfully around the sofa and chairs. Vibrant hues of striped, pink, purple and oranges adding pops of colour to an otherwise neutral décor. Her eyes flitted about the space noting the high gloss, brilliant red, purple and blue lacquerware she’d managed to get home in one piece, on display on the built-in wall shelves. She bit back a laugh seeing the erect, wooden fertility symbol, Mammy had carved on her trip and which she was adamant was in fact a canoe. A row of Christmas cards stood to attention on the next shelf and on the top shelf was the infamous conical hat Moira had been unable to stop her from wearing during their trip. It had feet poking out from under it, she realised frowning, and she could see a tulle skirt too.
Mammy followed her gaze. That’s Annabel under there. I never could stand her but I always think if I put her away, your great granny will strike me down with lightening. That, I feel, is a good compromise.’
Roisin agreed. She’d never liked the china doll heirloom either. It had always felt like she was watching them all, following them about with those icy blue eyes from wherever it was she was perched.
‘Oh, you’ve a tree!’ It was positioned in the smaller window beside the dining table, a fake one but a definite cut above Roisin’s Argos special. It had twinkly fairy lights strewn around its tinsel branches and decorations she knew she’d recognise from when she was a child were she to take a closer look.
‘I don’t know why you sound so surprised. Just because I’m on my own, with the exception of Pooh, doesn’t mean I should let my standards drop and besides it gives the neighbour across the way something to look at. Nosy old bint she is.’
Roisin peered out the window behind the tree half expecting to see a disgruntled old woman peering back at her.
‘Go on and put your bag in your room. You can hang your coats up in the utility room. I’ll put the kettle on. I think we’ll have a nice cup of tea and a slice of Christmas cake. It’s a lovely moist one this year.’
Roisin’s mouth watered at the thought of a nice big slab of Mammy’s fruit cake. Noah wouldn’t like the cake with its boozy, fruity, spiced flavour but he’d snaffle down the marzipan icing no problem.
‘Then I thought we’d wrap up and take Pooh for a stroll along the pier. It might wear him out before dinner with your sisters tonight. Moira’s threatening to do the you-know-what personally if he comes near her again.’
‘He’s not coming, is he?’ Roisin had assumed she’d have a randy puppy-free evening ahead.
‘Oh, I can’t leave him on his own for long, Roisin, it wouldn’t be fair. You wouldn’t have liked it if I’d left you home alone when you were wee, now would you?’
Roisin shook her head. Pooh was clearly part of the family these days and it would seem he was laying claim to being the favoured child despite his dirty ways. If they weren’t careful, he’d be the one Mammy would leave her worldly goods to. She nearly collided with Noah who’d finished his business. ‘Did you wash your hands?’
‘I need to say hello to Pooh.’
‘Hands! Wait a sec and give me that coat.’ Roisin tugged it off him. ‘Now hands.’
He stomped back to the bathroom to complete the job while she hung their coats up on the hooks on the back of the small room off the kitchen. Then she walked back through the living room seeing Mammy was busying herself in the kitchen. She picked up her bag and carried it through to the bedroom. There was no hint of her mammy’s recent trip in here she saw, looking about and noting that it was tastefully done, painted in a soft cream. Curtains in a deeper green framed a window that overlooked the charming street below and a black and white photograph of a lily took centre place on the wall above the bed. The bed looked inviting with its matching cream and green linen, the pillows she noticed, with a feeling of longing, were plumped to perfection. Roisin was tempted to lie down and rest her head on one just for a few minutes but she didn’t dare leave Noah alone with Mr Nibbles and Pooh for long. Mammy never scrimped when it came to bedding and she knew how to fold corners better than any nurse who’d been trained in the art by a stern matron could.
Yes, she’d be very comfortable in here. Well, as comfortable as she could expect to be with her son in the bed next to her. Noah turned into a prize kickboxer in his sleep! She opened her case and hung a few things in the wardrobe that would be a crumpled wreck if she left them folded in her bag, before opening the door once more. She peeked around it to check Pooh was otherwise engaged and wouldn’t