Fatty O'Leary's Dinner Party Read Online Free PDF Page B

arriving!
    â€œMy grandfather left Ireland in 1910,” said Fatty. “He sailed from Cork, but came from these parts.”
    â€œWell,” said Delaney. “That’s exactly where my old grandfather said his friend O’Leary left from. Cork. And 1910 would be about right. Well, isn’t that an amazing thing?”
    The empty glass was moved slightly on the counter, and Fatty signalled to the barman again.
    â€œWhat did he tell you?” asked Fatty. “What did he say?”
    Delaney raised the drink to his lips. “He said that his friend O’Leary was a very fine fellow. A darling man. Just the best. That’s what he said.”
    Fatty beamed at Betty. “You hear that, Betty?”
    â€œI did, Fatty.”
    Delaney looked down into his drink, as if to find further information in the glass.
    â€œHe had a farm, I think, somewhere in Tipperary, if I remember correctly. Quite near here, I think.”
    Fatty waited for further information, but none came.
    â€œWell, isn’t that wonderful,” he said at last. “To find somebody with links with my family.”
    â€œMaybe closer than you think,” said Delaney warmly. “You see, my mother was an O’Leary, would you believe it? And unless I’m mistaken, that makes me some sort of cousin to yourself.”
    For a moment Fatty did not know what to say. To find a cousin on the first day of his Irish trip seemed a quite exceptional stroke of luck. At this point, however, the barman intervened.
    â€œThat’s enough of that, Paddy,” he said to Delaney. “I think you should be heading off home now.”
    Delaney looked hurt. “Now, Micky, why would you be saying that? I’m enjoying a conversation with my friend Mr. O’Leary.”
    â€œYes, I’ve heard it all,” said the barman. “And it’s time for you to get home to your wife. Do you want me to be giving her a call?”
    The offer was a threat, and Delaney picked up his hat.
    â€œIt’s been a very great pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. O’Leary,” he said. “And I do hope that we shall meet again some time soon. In more congenial surroundings, perhaps.”
    The barman watched him leave and then turned to Fatty. “Not a bad fellow, all in all,” he said. “But he does tell the most terrible lies.”
    â€œSo this business about being a cousin?” asked Betty.
    â€œProbably not true, Mrs. O’Leary,” said the barman gently. “But here’s a co-incidence. My mother’s uncle, he was an O’Leary from Balinderry …”
    They bought the barman a drink while they discussed the possibilities of being related. Then Fatty looked at his watch and realised that his clothes would be ready. They bade farewell and made their way out of the bar.
    Mr. Delaney had the clothes laid out on a table.
    â€œNow, here we have a pair of trousers,” he said. “I’ve let these ones out in one or two places and unpicked a few seams. And these shirts should be fine as long as you don’t do up the top three buttons. And here’s a jacket, which won’t do up but the weather’s nice and warm at the moment and that won’t be a drawback. And socks and all the usual underwear and what have you. You’ll be quitethe lad in all these clothes, Mr. O’Leary.”
    Fatty retired into the fitting room and came out in his new outfit, the duvet cover neatly folded over his arm. Mr. Delaney fussed around him for a few moments, checking the garments, and then pronounced himself satisfied.
    They paid and returned to the car to begin their drive back to Mountpenny House.
    â€œGood can come from bad,” said Betty. “If we hadn’t lost your suitcase, then we wouldn’t have met all those delightful people.”
    â€œCousins too,” said Fatty.
    â€œPossibly,” said Betty.
    Then a thought occurred to Fatty.
    â€œWhat about the quilt