I think it's time to turn off the phone and unplug from the internet

The boiler’s gone Ann. We’re frozen. C u at 6 or so.” That was the extent of the text I got from her. Pure Geraldine. I mean, I suppose the boiler is gone (although I wouldn’t put it past her to exaggerate it – she’d know I wasn’t going be doing a Columbo on it and go investigating for myself).

They were here at half five. That’s the only time Geraldine is early: when she wants something.

Godforgiveme maybe I’m too harsh on my sister, but she just gets me fierce agitated. Anyway the house will have a bit of life about it since Patrick is gone back to college after the Christmas, and we always like having my niece Freya here. “She brings notions into the place,” says Denis – but he’s fierce fond of her too (even though she calls him Uncle Patriarchy all the time).

“Don’t ask,” says Geraldine, as she comes in the door. “Benny said he’d fix it, but he didn’t have the right gear with him . . . Ann! Take that look off your face.”

I didn’t have any look on my face. Or if I did it was only there for a second. Lightning Benny Courtney – Kilsudgeon’s answer to Muddy Waters. A bit of a musician. “The blues are the natural vibe of the Irish countryside Ann,” he said to me one time. “All this country shite is just landlord music. The real pain of rural Ireland is in the blues.”

And I suppose the blues includes running out on my sister when he found out he was going to be a father. “Sometimes a prophet needs to free himself before he can free others,” he’d said. The gobshite.

Anyway, now Benny’s fixing boilers, apparently. Or trying to. “He didn’t have the gear” – and all he has is a hammer, I’d say.

Freya was all action as soon as they came in the door.

“We have to do something, Auntie Ann. What’s the wireless password for here?”

“Oh, you’re asking a good one now. I hardly ever use it.”

“OMG Auntie Ann, you’ll have to get ‘woke’. The alt-right are here. The alt-right are HERE in Kilsudgeon.”

“They can’t be that bad if they’re alright,” I said – although I knew it was the wrong thing as soon as I said it.

“NO, AUNTIE ANN! Alt-right! They’re like basically racists. We have to fight them.”

Freya read on Facebook there was going to be a Trump Appreciation meeting for the inauguration. They were going to have it in the parish hall. She’d sent a Snapchat to Father Donnegan complaining, but then he got smart with her about not going to mass.

Father Donnegan is on Snap hat or whatever it is!? The bishop will have a conniption. Father Donnegan is not long for this parish, I’d say. He’s always having run-ins with Bishop Geraghty. He’s a bit of a law unto himself.

“My phone’s gone dead Auntie Ann. Can I use your computer?”

And that was the last I saw of her for the evening. Typing away like mad beside the phone.

At 6am the beep-beep started. My phone was gone quare. All of these notifications. I remember when it was just text. Actually, I remember when it was the postman and he wouldn’t get here till midday anyway, so you wouldn’t know what way to plan your day because you might be going to town.

The phone kept beep-beeping. I HATE SNOWFLAKES has replied to your comment. TRUMP FOR KING has replied to your comment. Dave Grohan has replied to your comment.

What comment? I’ve about 10 “friends”’ on Facebook and I’d only write something for a communion or something. No, I look anyway and there’s a comment I’M supposed to have put down underneath this event: “Kilsudgeon says no to these bigots. Kilsudgeon welcomes people, no matter what colour, gender or sexuality.” Freya must have commented as me by accident. And it got them all going.

“Haha ur just sheeple, Ann Devine, typical virtue signalling social justice warrior.”

A what?

“Whiny liberal snowflake. GET USED TO IT. TRUMP WON DEMTARDS.”

Then the Kilsudgeon Communist Party got involved. Well, Josey Walsh. It’s just him. He runs for election every time. The outlaw Josey Walsh, they call him. “Well done, Comrade Devine,” he says. “It is great to see the mothers of Ireland standing up to the fascist devils.”

And the fella he’s calling fascist is only over the valley from him and they used to hurl together at Junior B.

The next reply is Father Donnegan: “I’m surprised at you, Ann. Fighting on social media can rip this community apart.” What’s he doing there? Probably trying to see if there was any money to be made on tea and coffee at the “do” I suppose.

I’m turning off my phone and unplugging the Internet. That oul Trump. I hope they don’t find any relatives of his around here.