Irish Mammy: Understanding the modern world

The story so far: things have quietened down a little for Mammy after her surreptitious expedition to get a look at Leon St James, the inspirational guru who will be officiating at her daughter Jennifer’s wedding. “If you know your enemy and yourself, you won’t fear yourself.” But Mammy doesn’t need Sun Tzu to tell her that. She’ll be keeping a close eye on proceedings. But, meanwhile, there is a new interloper in her midst.

I wouldn’t have found out only for the oil man. Or rather the oil man’s website. It used to be so simple before. You’d give them a ring and then they’d turn up and fill the tank and you’d have the cheque ready for them, only to put in the amount.

Now you’ve to go ordering it online, which is grand when you’ve some sort of internet but the state our internet … three times I tried to put in the number, three times it said: “Request timed out”. I tell you this much, I wasn’t requesting by the end of it, I was roaring at the thing. And half way through I looked out the window and the shagging oil truck was going past. I could have shouted out at him instead of shouting at the iPad. Such a nuisance.

I was looking then for a number to ring but of course that was all some American wan telling me “your call is important to us”. If the call was so important to them, why didn’t they answer it? How could they be that busy? It’s the spring. And I KNOW Tom Coleman, the oil man, but they’ve gone very big now and there’s no point in trying to ring him. They’re half the year in the Gulf living it up by all accounts. If he brought some back in his suitcase I’d have it sooner.

So, by the time I got out the door I was half an hour later than I should have been and I think that’s how I found them about 20 minutes from the school.

I saw the young lad first. I was trying to place him. Tall boy. Skinny with one of those haircuts they have now with the fierce parting. He looked like he was going off to fight in the Great War. I didn’t know what he was up to first. It’s so rare you even see a young lad on the road now that you automatically think they’re up to something because normally they’d be on their phones Snapchatting their piercings and tattoos or threatening to fight someone. But this lad seemed different. He was sort of embarrassed to be there. Another car was coming towards me so I had to slow down, although I’d have slowed down anyway to have a good nosey. And who should I see in the ditch photographing something, a caterpillar or I don’t know what, but FREYA! My niece. I hadn’t known if she had been palling around with anyone these days let alone a boy, so this was big news. Not to mind the fact she should have been in school.

Of course I stopped. Even though that’s a bad bend.

“Well David Attenborough. What are you up to?”

“Hi auntie Ann.” She didn’t even look up at me. She was just zooming in on the moth or ragwort. I couldn’t tell.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

She just shrugged at me. Normally we’d be the best of pals but this boy here was obviously the difference. Although he was going mad red. He seemed a gentle sort of fella.

“Hi Ms Ryan. I’m Dylan Cassells.”

“Oh, Theresa Cassells boy.”

“Grandson Ms Ryan.”

“Grandson?! We’re all getting old! And it’s Mrs Devine. I’m not Freya’s mother I’m her aunt. Although sometimes I feel like it. Now missy, what’s the story with you and the Waters and Wild. Are you going to school or what?”

“Waste of time auntie Anne. Like, they’re just grooming us for the military industrial treadmill?”

Yer man was looking at her now in awe. I suppose that’s why he fell for her in the first place.

“I tell you what. Why don’t I give you a lift to this gym and you can get back on the treadmill. And ... what’s that yoke?”

Freya was holding a vape thing. In the name of God. Why would a teenager take up vaping?

“Put it away now and we’ll hear no more about it.”

But I was fairly sure there was plenty more about this to be heard.