Authors: Patricia Scanlan
It was a nicely laid out site, set out in tree- and shrub-lined enclaves. Each separate area had five mobiles in it, giving a sense of intimacy and privacy. It was much nicer than having rows of
mobile homes facing each other. The trees and shrubs were mature and the owners kept their patches neat and tidy, with flowers and shrubs and hanging baskets bringing colour and variety. A small
wooden chalet housed the office at the entrance to the site and there was a small pool and playground area on a grassy flat piece of ground directly opposite the entrance, which was electronically
gated.
Needless to say, the children were ecstatic at their mother’s business venture. To have access to a swimming pool and playground was beyond imagining, despite the fact that they had miles
of fine white sandy beach and the sea on their doorstep.
She’d got into a routine once she’d taken over from Rita and Billy. After she’d dropped the children to school, she went straight to the site and opened up the office. There
she dealt with whatever queries or requirements her clients might have, mostly giving out tokens for the laundry room or putting petrol in the lawnmowers that the owners borrowed to cut the grass
on their patches. She took bookings from people wishing to rent out the mobiles during the summer months. Most, as far as she could see, were customers who came year after year. Compared to the
larger sites along the coast that offered restaurant, shop and child entertainment facilities, her site was very small and quiet, but many people liked that aspect of it and she had no intention of
expanding it.
Saturday was her busiest day, when one set of customers departed the rented mobiles at eleven and they had to be spotless and ready for occupation by two in the afternoon. Until the past couple
of weeks she’d managed by herself, as usually only two or three of the vans were rented. But now, at the beginning of June, when they were getting very busy, she’d taken on two women
recommended by Rita to clean out the mobiles. It was a relief to have them on board. It freed her up to spend a little more time with the children, not that they felt neglected. They’d been
having too much fun. If one of her mobiles was unoccupied, Carrie cooked their dinners there and used it as a base, much to their delight. Otherwise they stayed in the chalet.
Noel too had been roped in. He’d spent the month of May painting the verandas that surrounded the rented mobile homes. Neat and particular, he’d made a great job of it and Carrie had
insisted on his taking some payment for his work. He’d also planted up the pots and beds at the entrance to the site and they were now a riot of colour and scent. He’d enjoyed that.
Carrie had seen several of the private clients stop and talk to him, gardening obviously being a common interest, and she stopped feeling guilty about using him, realizing that he was enjoying
meeting new people as well as spending time with her and the children. It was fun sitting together eating round the small table in the dining part of a mobile, and all the better when Dan was
there. There was an air of gaiety and holiday that caravans always engendered. Hannah always got excited when Carrie said, ‘Come on, let’s go to the park.’
The children had been sworn to secrecy about telling Shauna and Chloe but she knew Olivia and Davey were bursting with pride about their new business. Chloe had enjoyed showing off in Abu Dhabi;
the shoe would be on the other foot for the summer. Carrie grinned, amused as always by their small displays of one-upmanship.
Even though it was tiring, she was exhilarated and determined to make a go of it. Their income from the site would be a little more than what it had been when they were just taking rent, even
after her loan repayments and workers’ wages.
That
was extremely satisfying. She could bring the family on a holiday or buy the new bunks with the desks underneath them that Olivia
and Davey were longing for without having to dip into the household budget, and once the loan was paid off on the six mobiles it would mean a much bigger profit. It was certainly better than
drifting aimlessly towards middle age, she thought with a rueful smile as she pressed the small pad on her keyring and the wrought iron gates that guarded the entrance to Seafield glided slowly
open.
‘Can we go for a swim, Mom?’ Olivia and Davey chorused.
‘As soon as Hannah’s gone for her nap. How many times do I have to tell you not to say it in front of her?’ she chided, pulling up outside the office.
‘Swim. Swim,’ Hannah said eagerly.
‘I’ll murder the pair of you,’ she said crossly. ‘Later, Hannah. It’s time for your nap.’
‘No nap, Mammy.’
‘Yes nap,’ Carrie reiterated as they piled out of the car. Olivia and Davey made for the group of children already playing in the playground and Hannah started howling.
‘You’re tired, pet. Come on in with Mammy and have a bottle and when you get up I’ll bring you for a swim. OK?’ She scooped her wailing daughter up in her arms and walked
into the office.
‘Hi, Carrie. Mrs Dempsey’s van has a leak so I’ve called the plumber and there’s a load of messages on the answering machine about bookings,’ Kenny Walsh, the young
man she’d hired to work part time with her, informed her briskly. ‘Both lawnmowers are out, and I’ve done the litter and clean-up round and bagged up the rubbish. I’m going
to mop out the laundry room now before I go on my lunch. Frances and Orla are cleaning out numbers two and six.’
‘Thanks, Kenny. You’re doing a great job.’ Carrie smiled at him, standing lanky and tall in his royal blue overalls.
‘That’s me, Kenny the Great,’ he grinned, tugging gently at one of Hannah’s russet curls. ‘Don’t cry, Hannah. I’ll give you a push on the swing after
your nap,’ he promised.
‘Swing, swing.’ Hannah struggled to get out of her mother’s arms.
‘After your nap,’ Carrie said firmly.
The phone rang. ‘Let the machine take it. I’ll deal with it when I’ve got her down,’ Carrie said, knowing she had a window of about an hour to deal with her phone
enquiries once Hannah went asleep. Getting her to go asleep was the challenge.
She led her into the small back room that housed a large squashy sofa, a TV, a table and chairs and a small kitchen unit containing a sink, a microwave and a kettle. This was where they based
themselves if one of the mobiles wasn’t available. Carrie heated a bottle for Hannah in the microwave and led her over to the sofa. ‘Lie down now, darling.’ She whooshed the
toddler onto the cushions, tucked a pillow under her head and covered her with her favourite blanket. Hannah was whacked, tired out after her early start, and only managed to finish half her bottle
before her eyelids drooped and she was asleep.
‘Great!’ Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t be so bad when her daughter was older. Now she had to try to organize herself around her needs. She left the door open
and went to the small office at the front and began the task of sorting her mail and phone calls. Outside, through the open window, she could hear Davey’s loud guffaws. Carrie smiled and bent
her head to her work. Dan was bringing them lunch in an hour or so. She wanted to be on top of things by then so that she was calm and in control and he could see that the business was running
smoothly.
‘Carrie, quick. Mr Feeney fell off his veranda and he’s unconscious. Ring the ambulance.’ Kenny raced into the office.
‘Oh, Lord! OK.’ Carrie picked up the phone and dialled 999 and gave out the information. ‘Davey, come in and keep an eye on Hannah for me,’ she yelled to her son who was
shooting hoops.
‘Aw, Mom!’ he protested.
‘Don’t argue. It’s an emergency. Quick!’
‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded truculently when he got to the office.
‘I’ve to go to Mr Feeney’s mobile. He fell. Stay here.’
Carrie ran after Kenny, heart thumping. Maybe the poor man had had a heart attack. She hoped he wasn’t dead. His wife was cradling his head in her lap and other neighbours were helping to
keep her calm. ‘Are you all right, Mr Feeney?’ Carrie knelt beside him. He looked pasty and grey but at least he was conscious again.
‘Did a damn fool thing, tripped over my watering can and fell down the steps. I think I’ve broken my arm.’
‘I’ve phoned for the ambulance; it’s on its way. Oh, Kenny, would you go up and open the gates so they won’t be delayed getting in?’
‘Sure.’ Kenny took to his heels and Mrs Feeney had to laugh.
‘I don’t think it will be here that quick even though it’s not that far up the road.’
It took the ambulance fifteen minutes, and another ten before Mr Feeney was assessed and given first aid before being lifted into the back of it. Much to the gathered children’s
disappointment it did not speed off with lights flashing and alarms wailing, but Carrie was relieved that her client hadn’t had a heart attack, and that his condition wasn’t too serious
as far as they knew.
‘I missed it all,’ sulked Davey when she finally got back to the office.
‘Don’t be like that, Davey, it wasn’t a nice thing to happen to poor Mr Feeney, and I needed your help. Don’t make me feel bad for asking for it,’ Carrie told him
sternly.
‘Sorry, Mam,’ he apologized immediately. She loved her son’s good nature and her hug was tight as they made up. She’d lost half an hour of her precious window, but Hannah
was still sleeping so she settled down at her desk.
‘Carrie, I was wondering about changing our mobile. We’ve bought a new one with central heating. Maher’s in Dunboyne sold it to us. A lovely model called the Leven. It’s
got a bedroom with a bay window and en suite and integrated fridge freezer. It’s the business.’ Frank Coyle, a tall, broad man in his fifties, strolled into the office and sat down.
‘Could you sort out a day with them when we could take delivery? Here’s the number and here’s the brochure. Isn’t she a beauty?’
‘Sure, Frank,’ she said cheerfully, taking the brochure from him and studying it. His new mobile was a fine model; she just wished he hadn’t come in right at this minute to
tell her about it.
‘I’ll be needing a new veranda to go round it. Will you organize the carpenter?’ Frank continued.
‘Sure. I’ll look after it, Frank.’
‘Poor Des Feeney. That was a stroke of bad luck. If he’s in plaster he’s really stuck,’ Frank continued chattily. The phone rang.
‘Excuse me, Frank.’ She smiled politely.
‘I’ll let you get on with it.’ He uncoiled himself from the chair.
‘Seafield Park, can I help you?’ She waved at Frank and turned her attention to her caller.
‘Hello, my name’s Lorna Rooney. I was staying in one of your mobiles until this morning.’ An elderly voice came down the line.
‘Yes, Mrs Rooney, I remember. How are you? What’s the problem?’ Carrie continued opening her post, mostly bills unfortunately.
‘I think I left my reading glasses in the main bedroom. Could you check for me? I’m terrible for putting them down and forgetting them,’ the old lady quavered.
‘Certainly, I’ll do that. It will take a few minutes but I’ll get back to you,’ Carrie assured her and put the phone down. She looked out the window to see if she could
catch sight of Olivia. Her daughter was coming out of the changing room, ready to go for her swim. Davey was already swimming up and down. He was a good swimmer. Carrie’s rule with Olivia and
Davey was that they could only swim if there were other parents at the pool.
‘Olivia?’ she called through the window. Olivia trotted over.
‘Yes, Mam?’ She jigged up and down impatiently.
‘I need you to do something for me, pet. Run down to Frances in number two and ask her if there was a pair of glasses left in the bedroom.’
‘Aw, Mammy, I’m going swimming.’ Olivia scowled.
‘For goodness’ sake, Olivia, it’s only a small thing I’m asking you to do. Now would you hurry on,’ she exclaimed exasperatedly. Olivia stomped off in high
dudgeon.
That pair were going to get a severe talking to, she decided crossly as the door opened again and a child came in looking for a washing machine token for his mother. Maybe Dan was right, she
reflected ruefully. Had she taken on more than she could chew? She didn’t feel half as good about her new business as she had earlier. Tension enveloped her as the flashing light on the so
far unattended answering machine reminded her of something else not dealt with.
She pressed the button and the first call resounded tinnily around the office. Someone was looking to book a mobile for the middle of July. She took down the dates and flicked through the diary.
One available. Excellent. She’d ring back and confirm.
The next caller was a wrong number.
The next, another caller wanting to book for two weeks in August. She knew straight away that they were out of luck. August was fully booked. So far so good. She felt her tension lift a little.
She was getting through her work at last. Another twenty minutes of peace and quiet and she’d have the guts of it sorted.
‘Mammy, I’s awake.’ Hannah trotted out from the back room all red-cheeked and tousled-haired. ‘I’s hungry.’
‘Perfect timing then.’ Dan strode into the office carrying two baskets and overheard his younger daughter’s last remark. ‘Lunch as instructed,’ he declared
breezily. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Great,’ she fibbed, cursing his punctuality.
Olivia barged in with the missing glasses and dumped them on Carrie’s desk. ‘Now I’m going swimming,’ she announced defiantly. ‘And I don’t want to be
disturbed.’ She marched out without a backward glance.
‘What was all that about?’ Dan asked, highly entertained.
‘An attitude problem that’s going to be sorted.’ Carrie frowned.
‘Tell me about it over lunch. I’m off for the afternoon.’ Her husband’s eyes glinted with amusement.
‘Well, I’m not,’ she retorted and burst out laughing.
‘Is there anything I can do for you before I go fishing, or reading, or golfing?’ he teased, still grinning.
‘Ah let’s sit down and have our lunch while the other two are swimming and I’ll tell you all the goings on,’ she suggested.
‘I’ll set it out and call you when it’s ready. You look a bit fraught,’ Dan offered. Carrie reached up and gave him a kiss. She might be busy, and harassed, and wondering
if she’d made a big mistake, but one thing was for sure, she had the best husband in the world.