Page 66 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Bleedin’ hell,’ Hattie said as she walked through the crowd with Jo. ‘I hope Lucinda’s using water based paints that wash off.’

‘I don’t remember agreeing to let her loose on children.’ Jo was perplexed as she stared at angry looking tigers and wild orangutans. ‘Why couldn’t she stick to painting butterflies and fairies?’

At the coconut shy, Harry and Alf were hurling hard wooden balls. Neither had a good aim and as balls went flying, visitors scattered.

‘Let me show you how to do it,’ Bill said and stepped forward. He tossed a ball between his hands and eyed a coconut. Taking a run, his arm swung in an arc and the ball pelted through the air. It hit a coconut hard.

Alf and Harry were open-mouthed as the nut fell to the floor.

‘Where did you learn to throw a ball like that?’ Alf asked.

‘I’ve never done it before.’ Bill beamed as he collected his prize.

‘You’ll have to join a cricket team.’ Harry patted Bill on the shoulder. ‘Is there one local to you at home?’

Bill mumbled that he had no idea. He didn’t want to think about Creston and the dismal old villa, it would put a dampener on the day.

You see! It’s not just me who thinks you should be away from this place and facing up to your responsibilities.

As Bill gripped the coconut, he imagined it was his mother’s head and squeezed tightly.

The house is going to rack and ruin and it’s all your fault! Galivanting and squandering your money.

‘Enough!’ Bill shouted and he flung the coconut some distance away.

‘Steady on, old son,’ Alf said in alarm and took Bill’s arm. ‘You could kill someone doing that.’

Hearing Alf’s words, Bill thought of his mother. “Kill” was too kind a word and he didn’t dare voice what he really felt.

‘Fancy a beer?’ Harry asked.

‘That’s a grand idea, let’s go over to Father Ted’s, then see how Willie is getting on.’ Alf led Bill away.

On the stage, Finbar had gathered the Mayor of Kindale and was ready to make an announcement. James, looking cool in a short-sleeved cotton shirt and smart dark trousers, was escorting the mayor during the afternoon and stood to one side.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Finbar began, ‘it gives me great pleasure to ask Madam Mayor to officially open this wonderful event.’

Jo and Hattie had been commandeered to assist on stage and they held either end of a ribbon as Finbar handed the mayor a pair of scissors. Suited and booted in a tight linen suit, the robust lady mayor was flustered as she stepped forward. Her chain of office, the work of fine Irish craftsmen, appeared cumbersome, as the heavy gold links shone in the searing sunshine beating down on the stage.

‘Well,’ the mayor began, ‘the good Lord has shh…ertainly blessed this event with a hot day for the shelebrations.’ She took a lace-edged handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her brow.

‘Is she pissed?’ Hattie whispered, as James edged forward.

‘But before I cut the wibbon, I’d like to congratulate the new owner of Fllaaatterly Manor, or Boooooomerville Manor, as I understand it is now known.’ She turned to Jo and laughed. ‘Jo Docherty is bwringing jobs to our area and pwoviding a woooonderful place to benefit from unusual classes.’ She looked ahead at the audience, closing one eye as she focussed. ‘And I will sooon twreat myself to a fine meal in the Fllaaatterly Woom Westaurant.’

There was a cheer from Father Ted’s as friends of chef Connor raised their glasses.

‘It gives me gweat pleasure,’ the mayor continued, ‘to officially announce that this event is now ooopen and I welcome everwyone to Boooooomerville Manor.’

She sawed at the ribbon, as James steadied her from behind and Jo and Hattie held tight. There was a polite round of applause. Finbar clapped too then took the microphone from the mayor.

‘Folks,’ he said, ‘we’ve a grand line-up of entertainment which carries right on into the evening and, to kick-off, I’d like you to all make your way to the lake, where in thirty minutes time, the Boomerville Babes will present an aquatic performance.’

‘That will be interwesting,’ the mayor said to Jo and Hattie as they helped her down from the stage. She continued to dab at her face with her hankie. ‘But I need a dwink before I wander into the lake.’

James stepped forward. ‘May I suggest tea and scones in the refreshment tent?’ he asked.

‘Something stwonger,’ the mayor replied. ‘Father Ted’s pleeese.’

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