Having showered and dressed, Jo sat at the kitchen table and ate toast, washed down with coffee, while Clara dipped soldiers into a soft-boiled egg.
‘This is my most favouritist breakfast,’ Clara declared as a long, gloopy drip of yolk ran from the edge of her piece of toast and landed on her pyjama top.
‘I like that one too. But I also like waffles and syrup with blueberries and raspberries,’ Jo said.
‘And strawberries!’ Clara declared.
‘Yes, of course strawberries! Now, I think we’d both better hurry up and finish or we won’t have time to get dressed and ready.’
Clara nodded, her expression serious. ‘Eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, get dressed, put on your shoes and brush your hair!’
‘Yes, boss,’ Jo said. ‘Thank you for reminding me.’
Her mum’s voice carried in from the hall. ‘Clara, you better tell Jo to be quick or she’ll end up walking you to school wearing just a T-shirt and knickers with a towel wrapped round her head.’
It seemed that the word ‘knickers’ was the most hilarious thing Clara had ever heard and when Jo did in fact go upstairs to pull on a pair of skinny jeans and her red Converse, she could still hear Clara laughing as she repeated ‘knickers’ over and over again.
Days like these were good, Jo thought, and again it crossed her mind how she would miss their morning routine when she found her own place to live. She really should have a good look online to see what was available or she would end up sleeping in a cardboard box in a shop doorway.
With her denim jacket over her arm, and Clara’s school bag checked, they set off, Jo’s mind filled with her requirements for a new abode.
‘Jo,’ Clara said, ‘is Lorcan coming for tea tonight?’
‘I don’t know, sweetheart. He might have plans.’
‘But when I said to him to come tonight, he didn’t say he had plans,’ she said earnestly, ‘so he has to come to tea.’
It crossed Jo’s mind that Lorcan might just have been being polite and didn’t really want to come to dinner with the three Campbell women. ‘Well, I’ll ask him and see what he says,’ Jo offered. ‘But he is a very busy man.’
Clara considered this for a moment. ‘Well, don’t forget to tell him that Mammy makes yummy dinners. And on Tuesdays we have ice cream for dessert and then maybe he won’t be too busy.’
‘I won’t,’ Jo smiled.
‘I like him,’ Clara said, with such an air of authority about her that it was clear she had given this a lot of thought.
‘Well, as it happens, I like him too. He’s a nice friend.’
‘He might be a nice boyfriend maybe,’ Clara said, faux innocently, and Jo laughed. She was totally being set up by a six-year-old.
‘He might be,’ she agreed. ‘But we’re just ordinary friends for now.’
‘So it might change?’ Clara asked as they walked through the school gates.
‘It might,’ she conceded because it was easier than explaining the concept of rebound relationships and trust issues to a six-year-old. Her answer made Clara grin from ear to ear and she skipped happily into school, leaving Jo thinking that it would be wonderful to see the world the way a child sees it. Even with her own take on things, Clara still saw hope and easy answers everywhere. That seemed so appealing.
Lorcan was cleaning the shelves when Jo arrived at Harry’s shop. She didn’t see him at first, only spotting Harry – who was sat on his chair behind the counter flicking through the Derry Journal and commenting on the death notices.
‘Not a lot of deaths this week,’ he said, without even saying hello. ‘People won’t be happy.’
Jo raised an eyebrow.
‘You may well look confused there, young Jo, but believe me, the deaths are a big selling point for these local papers. Sure, us older ones don’t all have that Facebook yoke you all have. For a lot of us, the only way we keep up with what our old friends and neighbours are at is by looking at the Journal.’
‘To see if they’re dead?’ Jo asked, unsure if she had picked Harry up correctly.
‘Exactly. Or if they have people belonging to them who are dead. Sure, then we can go to the wake or the funeral and catch up. It’s not the same for you young ones. You know every detail of everyone’s life. What they’re eating for their dinner. When they give the house a clean or read a book, or buy new underwear. Nothing’s private any more.’
Lorcan stood up then and Jo caught a glimpse of him, and the smile on his face which said ‘Grandad’s in great form today. Prepare for one of his big rants’.
And Harry seemed to oblige. ‘The older generation like myself, we know all we need to. We know when people need a good send-off, or maybe when they need help to give their loved ones a good send-off. At our stage of life, that’s what it’s all about. I’d have little to no social life at all if it wasn’t for attending wakes and funerals. It can be some craic at a wake, all the same. Although not as many hand round a wee shot of whisky any more. It was bad enough when people stopped leaving out the wee trays of cigarettes – although I’d given up by then. I used to love getting a good lungful of second-hand smoke at a good wake, although Mary would go mad when I came home smelling of the stuff. But, sure, nowadays, it’s all just sandwiches and pastries and a cup of tea. Not that that’s a bad thing,’ he said, as he paused for air.
Jo glanced to Lorcan to see he was almost helpless with mirth, his grandad’s take on the world being a thing of legend. As much as Jo tried not to laugh, she couldn’t hold in a grin and found herself gurning in an attempt to reconfigure her face into a more suitable ‘I’m listening’ expression.
‘So many people get the sandwiches brought in these days. Those fancy sandwiches, you know? With “leaves” instead of a good old-fashioned piece of lettuce. A bit of Iceberg, or a nice round lettuce is all you need. Not that rocket stuff. Is that the one that looks like stinging needles? Sure, it doesn’t matter. It should go back to simpler times, a plate of tomato sandwiches, ham sandwiches, and egg and onion. I remember using my mother’s big mixing bowl to mash up two dozen eggs at the one time. The smell, dear God, it was like something had died.’
With that, Jo couldn’t hold it any longer and let out a roar of laughter, before she covered her mouth quickly, terrified she had offended Harry.
The old man looked at her as if she’d lost the run of herself, then glanced at Lorcan, who had tears running down his cheeks.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘What did I say?’ It took a moment for the penny to drop. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh, like something had died,’ he said, as his face broke into a wide smile. ‘I suppose I could’ve phrased it better,’ he chuckled.
‘I think you phrased it perfectly,’ Jo said.
‘Me too, Grandad,’ Lorcan chimed in. ‘Don’t ever change!’
‘Ah, you two! You do my heart good, so you do. Great to have you young ones about. And I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you get along. Two of my most favourite people right here, who don’t mind me dropping the occasional clanger,’ Harry said.