the car, if he was able to borrow either of his parents’. They would drive to a secluded spot, and kiss and cuddle, and Valerie was never happier than when she and Jeff were in that special little bubble of time that was theirs alone. All the worries of exams and her unhappy home life would evaporate for a while. As dusk began to fall they would drive back to the hotel for a drink before he would take her home around six. Then she would feel sad, knowing that he was heading up to Dublin and she had a long week of study ahead of her.
‘We’re soulmates, Lizzie,’ she would tell her best friend, who, tragically, had become manless at Easter. Phil Casey had turned out to be two-timing Lizzie with a Goth from Bray, and she was devastated and furious while trying not to be envious of Valerie’s blossoming romance.
Lizzie was hoping that tonight her dry spell would be over and she would meet ‘The One’ at the barbecue. Valerie hoped she would too, so that she and Jeff could double date with her friend. She hated seeing Lizzie lonely and distressed after her break-up with Phil. She wanted them both to have fun. Now that the exams were over Terence could stick his curfew, blunt end first, up his skinny ass, she’d told her best friend. She was going to make up for all those months of isolation. She was going to party and she wanted Lizzie to be as happy as she was.
In high spirits they pulled on bikinis and denim shorts. Lizzie selected a white V-necked T-shirt from her wardrobe, which emphasized her pert boobs and her golden tan. Valerie put on a pink and blue stripy cheesecloth shirt and tied it in a knot at her breastbone and slipped into a pair of white espadrilles. They looked great, they assured themselves as they studied their reflection in the chipped bevelled mirror in the corner of Lizzie’s bedroom.
Lizzie was tall, and with her jet-black hair that fell in a silky curtain around her face, she reminded Valerie of Ali MacGraw. She studied herself critically. At five foot two she wished that she were a couple of inches taller, but at least she was slim enough, with curves in the right places. Her blond hair, worn in a shaggy cut, gave her an air of sophistication à la Jane Fonda in Klute , she decided, as she fiddled with the knot of her blouse to get it dead centre. At least they didn’t look like schoolgirls any more, she thought, as she applied another coat of mascara to her eyelashes. They had their beach bags packed and a bottle of vodka wrapped in a towel. It was time to go party.
‘You pair better have something to eat to line your stomachs,’ Ciara Anderson called up the stairs, and Valerie marvelled at how free and easy Lizzie’s mother was. She had cooked lasagne for dinner and they tucked into it with enthusiasm before setting out across The Triangle on their way to the hotel.
‘All in together, girls
This fine weather, girls.
He saw. I saw. Sitting on a see saw.’
The chants of a group of little girls skipping filled the air. The thwack of a ball against the wall of the Ball Alley, as a trio of boys played handball, and the singsong rhythm, ‘Plainy a packet of Rinso, Uppy a packet of Rinso’, as two friends played a game of Two Balls, made them smile. The Triangle was a favourite spot for children to play, as it had been for Valerie and Lizzie, and their parents’ generation too.
‘Remember when we used to play Two Balls? We just play it a bit different now,’ Lizzie giggled, and Valerie snorted with laughter. Lizzie was irrepressible and Valerie loved that wicked streak. She hoped her friend would never change.
The village was buzzing in the early evening sun. Day-trippers coming up from the beach thronged the shops and café. The flowers were blooming voluptuously, vivid splashes of colour against the freshly painted buildings. Even the cordylines in The Triangle waved languidly in the balmy breeze. Rockland’s was glorious on a summer’s day and the Tidy Town committee had
‘We’re soulmates, Lizzie,’ she would tell her best friend, who, tragically, had become manless at Easter. Phil Casey had turned out to be two-timing Lizzie with a Goth from Bray, and she was devastated and furious while trying not to be envious of Valerie’s blossoming romance.
Lizzie was hoping that tonight her dry spell would be over and she would meet ‘The One’ at the barbecue. Valerie hoped she would too, so that she and Jeff could double date with her friend. She hated seeing Lizzie lonely and distressed after her break-up with Phil. She wanted them both to have fun. Now that the exams were over Terence could stick his curfew, blunt end first, up his skinny ass, she’d told her best friend. She was going to make up for all those months of isolation. She was going to party and she wanted Lizzie to be as happy as she was.
In high spirits they pulled on bikinis and denim shorts. Lizzie selected a white V-necked T-shirt from her wardrobe, which emphasized her pert boobs and her golden tan. Valerie put on a pink and blue stripy cheesecloth shirt and tied it in a knot at her breastbone and slipped into a pair of white espadrilles. They looked great, they assured themselves as they studied their reflection in the chipped bevelled mirror in the corner of Lizzie’s bedroom.
Lizzie was tall, and with her jet-black hair that fell in a silky curtain around her face, she reminded Valerie of Ali MacGraw. She studied herself critically. At five foot two she wished that she were a couple of inches taller, but at least she was slim enough, with curves in the right places. Her blond hair, worn in a shaggy cut, gave her an air of sophistication à la Jane Fonda in Klute , she decided, as she fiddled with the knot of her blouse to get it dead centre. At least they didn’t look like schoolgirls any more, she thought, as she applied another coat of mascara to her eyelashes. They had their beach bags packed and a bottle of vodka wrapped in a towel. It was time to go party.
‘You pair better have something to eat to line your stomachs,’ Ciara Anderson called up the stairs, and Valerie marvelled at how free and easy Lizzie’s mother was. She had cooked lasagne for dinner and they tucked into it with enthusiasm before setting out across The Triangle on their way to the hotel.
‘All in together, girls
This fine weather, girls.
He saw. I saw. Sitting on a see saw.’
The chants of a group of little girls skipping filled the air. The thwack of a ball against the wall of the Ball Alley, as a trio of boys played handball, and the singsong rhythm, ‘Plainy a packet of Rinso, Uppy a packet of Rinso’, as two friends played a game of Two Balls, made them smile. The Triangle was a favourite spot for children to play, as it had been for Valerie and Lizzie, and their parents’ generation too.
‘Remember when we used to play Two Balls? We just play it a bit different now,’ Lizzie giggled, and Valerie snorted with laughter. Lizzie was irrepressible and Valerie loved that wicked streak. She hoped her friend would never change.
The village was buzzing in the early evening sun. Day-trippers coming up from the beach thronged the shops and café. The flowers were blooming voluptuously, vivid splashes of colour against the freshly painted buildings. Even the cordylines in The Triangle waved languidly in the balmy breeze. Rockland’s was glorious on a summer’s day and the Tidy Town committee had
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