punching the air. ‘Fuck yeah!’
I roll my eyes at her. Stop swearing in front of the solicitor, I warn her with a glare, and then turn back to him. ‘Where in Ireland is it anyway?’
‘A town called Ballykielty.’
Bloody Ballykielty. I have no idea where that is. It’s not enough to be in a different country, but it also has to be some little town with no doubt nothing going on. It’s not like we can just up and leave everything to try and turn it around. I mean, I have a job. Well, yes, it’s a pretty shitty basic temping job, but it’s still a job.
At least I don’t have to worry about leaving a relationship. Just last week I caught my boyfriend Garry in bed with his personal trainer. Sure, he was no Brad Pitt, and he didn’t light fireworks inside my body, but I had thought he was genuine. I thought we cared about each other. Damn, I think I fell in love with the idiot. To find out it had been happening for months broke something deep inside me.
Unlike me, Ella seems ecstatic at the idea. She’s pleading at me with her big brown puppy dog eyes. She wants this. Of course she does. This fly away fairy doesn’t have anything to hold her back. She doesn’t have a job, and she’s still dossing with me, sharing my double bed in my shared crappy rented flat. I blame our hippy parents. They never gave her any structure and I’m always the one left to try and teach her about the real world.
‘Come on, Pheebs.’ She grins. ‘We could save this pub, become badass landladies and then sell it for a mint! You’ve always loved watching Homes Under the Hammer.’ She waggles her eyebrows. ‘You know you want to...’
I suppose it could be fun. A new adventure. God knows I haven’t had one in years. And really, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
‘Oh, what the hell. Where do I sign?’
Chapter Two
Monday 17th August
Two weeks later we’re packed up and are driving the short distance from Dublin airport to Ballykielty. We’ve just survived the most horrendous flight. I know it was our first time on a plane, but the pilot had to be drunk with that landing. I thought I was going to die. Mum and Dad would have a fit if they found out we flew. Bad for the environment, they’d say. Carbon footprint and all that.
The only rental car they had left at such short notice was a Kia Picanto. It’s so bloody small we barely get our luggage in. I’m used to driving an automatic so I keep stalling. My Sat Nav starts going crazy when we pull down a long country lane about an hour later.
‘Next...n-n-n-next....n-n-n-n-next...’
I hit it with the palm of my hand. Stupid thing. That’s what happens when you buy one on the cheap from a guy called Dave in the pub.
‘That thing is seriously freaking out.’ Ella giggles, her feet up on the dashboard, as relaxed as can be. I’m sure I read somewhere that if you have a crash like that you can crack your spine right in half. Not that she’d care if I told her. She’d say something like, if the universe wants that for me, then who am I to disagree?
What I should be worrying about is the potential massive mistake we’ve made by agreeing to do this. Not that I am. Of course not. Well... okay… I’m a little apprehensive. I have £15,000 saved from being a thrifty bitch all my life. We’ve decided that if really needed too we could use that to make it more sellable. But I’m hoping that the solicitor was just being a big drama queen and its actually in an acceptable condition.
I grab my phone and start tapping away, trying to bring up Google maps, but that’s on the blink too. What the hell is wrong with the signal out here? I know it’s a country lane, but we’re hardly out in the sticks. We’re only ten minutes away from the motorway.
‘What’s the name of the road again?’ I ask Ella who’s contentedly staring out of the window at the passing trees.
‘Cock Lane or something?’ she says vaguely, not even turning to look at my slightly panic stricken face.
Cock Lane? We’re moving to Cock Lane? That’s kind of hilarious in itself.
‘Right next to Loughdrum apparently.’
Loughdrum? What kind of place is that? I should have spent more time researching this. Instead