Read Online An Irish Country Wedding by Patrick Taylor - Free Book Online Page B

“Least said, soonest mended. What was I saying about the house?”
    For a second O’Reilly worried about short-term memory loss in a patient with a recent head injury, but his concern was allayed when Donal said, “I remember. I was on about the bend. There’s a lane comes out at the top of the bend and it’s only a wee doddle to the bus stop from there, so it is.” He lowered his voice. “And here’s the best bit. It’s not dear. Them new wee bungalows down on Seymour Avenue in Carnalea are going for three thousand five hundred pounds. The estate agent says the one Julie and me likes is going for only two thousand pounds, and that’s five hundred less than it’s valued at, but it’s been empty for a year and it needs a bit of fixing up, but sure amn’t I good at that?”
    “Five hundred less than appraised value? It sounds interesting,” O’Reilly said. “How do you want me to help?”
    “We don’t know nothing about buying houses, Doctor. We thought maybe one day soon, when I’m allowed to go out of my house, like, you and maybe Doctor Laverty’d come with Julie and me and take a wee gander at it and see if you think it would be good for us.”
    “It’s a promise, Donal.”
    “’At’s dead on,” said Donal, “and we don’t want til leave it too long.” He inclined his head and whispered, “I heard tell somebody else may have an eye on it.”
    “Oh?” O’Reilly wasn’t unduly concerned. “I’d not worry too much,” he said. “As you say, it’s been on the market for quite a while. We can probably wait a bit before we move. See if we can get the price down.”
    Donal smiled, but said, “I hope youse is right, sir. Julie has her heart set on it. If it’s not too dear, like.”
    “Let’s get you home first.”
    “I can’t hardly wait,” Donal said.
    “And I’ll sniff around a bit about the house.”
    Donal’s toothy grin was from ear to ear. “That’s wheeker, so it is. Thanks, sir. Away off now, Doc, and remember: if I don’t see youse through the window, I’ll see youse through the week.”
    O’Reilly was chuckling as he left, but it didn’t prevent him overhearing Donal saying to the two card players, “Hey Hughie, Alfie, would youse quit that stupid beggar my neighbour? ’At’s for kiddies, so it is. How’s about a few hands of pontoon? Just for pennies, like?”
    O’Reilly feared for the fortunes of the two when Donal involved them in what the French call vingt-et-un and the Americans, blackjack. Donal Donnelly was probably a card counter.

 
    8
    A Warmth Hidden in My Veins
    “Have a pew, Aggie.” Barry followed a limping Aggie Arbuthnot into the surgery. She was the fourth patient of the morning, Cissie Sloan’s cousin, and famous throughout the village as the possessor of twelve toes. “Haven’t had you in for a while,” Barry said. “What’s up? I’ve not seen you limping before either.” He took his seat in the chair on casters in front of the rolltop desk.
    Aggie Arbuthnot was short and skinny with a head of straw-coloured hair done up in a head-scarf knotted at the front. A couple of shocking-pink plastic curlers called Spoolies peeped from under the scarf.
    “Never mind me,” she said, sitting in the patient’s seat. “What about Kinky? I near took the rickets when I seen her being put in thon ambulance yesterday. Here.” She leant forward and gave Barry a cylindrical tin bearing a picture of the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. “Seeing Kinky’s not here to look after you, and all, I brung youse and himself some of my Yellow Man toffee.”
    “That’s very kind, Aggie,” Barry said, placing the tin on the desktop. “Doctor O’Reilly’s seeing her this morning in the Royal. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
    “I hope so,” Aggie said. “She’s a heart of corn that one.”
    “She’s a very kind woman all right.”
    “If youse and himself needs anything?”
    “Thank you, Aggie. I’ll remember, but I don’t think you came in