Page 23 of The Snag List
‘Don’t remind me!’ Ailbhe’s mother had wailed.
‘Mam, don’t worry – you’ll be over to us non-stop.’ It was going to be hard without her mother. They had always been so united – a byproduct of having to weather Eamon’s chaotic ways together. They weren’t quite in the nauseating ‘people think we’re sisters’ category, but they had a shared appreciation for the Art of Slagging and Eilers could bitch for Ireland when she got going.
‘Maybe it’s because Tom feels guilty about missing most of her first two months?’ Eilers had suggested as they stashed it all on the top floor of the house. Tom, despite his unbelievably demanding schedule, was devoted to video calling her. It was very endearing. He set an alarm no matter what time zone he was in to wish his daughter good morning. Weird though it may have seemed to outsiders, they’d relaxed into their little routine: she’d prop him up somewhere he could see the baby and drift off to do her make-up while he chatted away to the barely sentient Tilly.
Instead of a playroom, Ailbhe and Eilers had made this front room a luxe retreat. A pale-grey L-shaped couch dominated, with a couple of outsized beanbags that had cost an arm and a leg completing the space. Tom hadn’t even blinked when she’d detailed some of the spend on the house. And if he didn’t care, Ailbhe wouldn’t lose sleep – though it was a big adjustment going from keeping a fairly tight reign on her money to buying a couch for high five figures.
She arranged the snacks on the low glass and steel coffee table that rested on the fur rug, then she flopped onto the beanbag by the window to order a drink from Rounds All Round, the mobile bar that served all of Monteray Valley. The bell went just minutes later – Rounds All Round was extremely efficient – and Ailbhe rose to accept three Proseccos, each topped with a plump raspberry from a cheery barman whose name was Paul.
‘We’ll probably switch to cocktails when the gals get here. Will you come to the window on the next round?’ She blew him a kiss as he retreated to the funny little converted bar-a-van that all the Rounds All Round guys drove around the estate, pulling pints and cocktails from the boot for the Monteray Valley residents.
She returned to the beanbag to watch for Lindy and Roe. It was weird to have drinks delivered when you could just open a bottle in your own kitchen. Still, half the point of Monteray Valley was this kind of full-service max-convenience life. It was a bit like living in a Club Med permanently. No one used cash in any of the shops or restaurants: everyone used either their phone or a chic bracelet (available in gold or silver) with a chip in it to pay for stuff.
A tentative knock on the window alerted her to Lindy’s arrival. Ailbhe extended her left leg and stretched her foot to nudge the window open without getting up. ‘I want to be polite but I’m just too shagged to get up and open the front door right now.’ Ailbhe sensed Lindy would be game. After all, she was a great woman for a window exit – surely she wasn’t above making an entrance via one.
‘Haha, I remember that feeling.’ Lindy hopped neatly through. ‘Don’t move a bloody muscle on my account, honestly. You’re so good to have us over. The second you want us gone, just say – you can’t be polite when you’re running on newborn levels of sleep.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m tired but I’m also gagging for a bit of socialising. I wish we could go out out but I guess we’re old marrieds now.’
Lindy was clearly about to protest when the bell went. Ailbhe sighed and was about to haul herself up but Lindy just leaned back out the window and beckoned Roe in.
‘I’m getting reverse déjà vu.’ Roe hopped through looking like a teenage renegade sneaking in after an illicit night out.
‘’Course she couldn’t look further from an auld one.’ Ailbhe proffered Proseccos. ‘What age are you, Roe? I was just saying how much I wish we could fuck off on the absolute sesh right now but we’re too old.’
‘I’m a baby, just thirty-one. But no sesh would age discriminate. I’d say our biggest problem is the fact that we’re at least thirty miles from the nearest sesh.’
‘Mmm, true.’ Lindy nodded. ‘And I definitely feel too old.’
‘Not to worry.’ Ailbhe raised her empty glass. ‘The sesh comes to the door in Monteray Valley and I’m on the baby ’n’ boozin’ schedule. Lindy, you’re familiar, I’m sure? It’s where you day drink so you can be moderately drunk for the afternoon, hung-over by tea time and sober in time for passing out on the bed later. I’ve been perfecting it for the last couple of weeks and I think I’ve nailed it. Will we switch to something fancy? Paul does a lovely thing called a Monteray Fizz? Good to support local.’ She keyed the order into the app without waiting for a response from the other two. ‘Sorry I sound like a thirsty bitch, but a newborn’ll do that to ya.’
‘No resistance from me.’ Lindy cheersed from her spot on the couch. ‘Hate to be the bearer of bad news but my tween is still doing it to me. He can be moody one minute and then my sweet baby again. Very hectic.’
‘Well,’ Roe sighed. ‘Our kid hasn’t even been conceived yet and it’s being a buzz-wrecker.’
‘Oh? How so?’ Ailbhe had been curious to note that Roe and Eddie had moved into Monteray Valley where there wasn’t a child-free couple in at least a five-mile radius.
‘Oh, ignore me. It’s too much to even get into.’ Roe shook her head.
Lindy sat up straighter. ‘Let’s get this snag-list stuff boxed off and then we can talk properly – how does that sound?’
‘It sounds efficient, like my husband.’ Ailbhe grinned as Paul appeared at the window behind Roe’s spot on the other beanbag. ‘That’s not him, by the way.’
Ailbhe indicated, causing Roe to turn and bolt upright in surprise. ‘Jesus!’
‘Three Monteray Fizzes!’ He beamed, passing the glasses through the window.
Bemused, Roe distributed the cocktails and pushed the window closed as Paul trotted off once more.
‘Anyone else feel like the new normal is way weirder than the old normal?’ Lindy offered, sipping at the pinky-orange drink.
‘Yup.’ Ailbhe angled the straw so she didn’t have to sit up on the beanbag. ‘Right, house snags. Just about nine hundred to go through.’
Ailbhe ordered more drinks after they’d finished the document and sent it to the builder. They then settled into more general life chat.
‘Wouldn’t it be amazing if someone could snag list your life? Imagine it,’ Lindy said idly. ‘Think ofthatlist: Grouting in upstairs en suite; skirting in hallway; guy you didn’t bang in Ibiza in 2007 … You’d get to do all the unfinished things, the niggles and half-baked things that never worked out. What would you guys get fixed in your lives if you could just farm it out to someone else? I really wish I’d finished my degree. I did three years then took a year off to travel. Got pregnant and never went back.’
‘Did you go weird after having Max?’ Ailbhe asked Lindy beseechingly. She’d been trying to figure out for weeks if constantly swinging from anxiety to euphoria was normal post-baby stuff or particular to her situation of nursing both a baby and a major betrayal at the same time. ‘I just feel so fucking crazy.’
