She had notions!

Chele Crawley

Life was exceptionally ordinary in my little rural town

You went to school and maybe college before settling down.

Farmed the land, fenced fields, felled trees and fixed cars,

There was always so much to be done before you hit the bars.

A quiet pint of an evening, a table quiz, or a game of cards with friends.

The city lights didn’t illuminate out our way, we were immune from its latest trends.

We had no need for great fortune. No desire for fame.

Just honest toil awaited us – it knew us by name.

We had no grand ambitions, no lofty quest

Just quiet lives is all and that suited us best.

But Mary Delahunty with her vivid power suit and patent stilettos

Would stride into McManuses like a yacht club member in the midst of a ghetto

She’d march ahead, her voice like thunderclap

And order a negroni and a bruskie, sending the barman into a right old flap

‘A beer,’ she’d clarify, rolling her eyes.

The barman would have a bewildering look that he just couldn’t disguise

‘And it’s a gin with a dash of vermouth and Campari,’ she would add

Pointing to a tumbler on the draining board, ignoring an almighty snigger from the lads.

The men by her side would be dressed like one of those legal types you’d see on the telly

Three-piece suit, a long coat, and a briefcase – no sign of any fattening on his belly.

She’d flash a shiny plastic card and the barman would always shake his head.

Cash only my love – have you forgotten that there’s no vat in this shed.

Our lads would give a chuckle from behind her back

Mary may be brimming with ideas but they’d have none of that yak.

‘A gin and tonic is the best I can do,’ the barman would admit,

before slapping down a handful of coins at the pair of misfits.

She got an MBA from the London Business School.

Worked for Goldman and Sachs on a salary that would make some drool.

‘I’m in the market for a house with a pool. London has those you know.’

We would nod our heads, wishing she and her walking briefcase friend would just go.

‘We vacationed in Marbella in the summer and are jetting off to St Barts for Christmas.’

We would feign fake smiles at her like those places actually meant anything to us.

Her father built slatted sheds and her mother sold Tupperware from catalogues

But Mary Delahunty had notions of grandeur and made it known to us backwater dogs

‘There’s nowhere decent in town to get a good coffee,’ she complained all the time.

As though not knowing the difference between an Americano and espresso was a crime.

‘I’ll have to wait to get back to London for a decent brew and by that time I’ll need a shrink.’

‘I see a therapist for my head, my marriage and back.’

‘You should try therapy darling. It will make up for all the things you lack.’

Of course, we didn’t think we were lacking anything in our quiet little ways.

Yes. She had notions! Being a yuppie is how she spent her days.

We got a shock when the announcer called out her name on the radio.

It was sudden, freak and fatal – hit by a fallen scaffold outside the Pilates studio.

Yes. She had notions.

Rest in peace Mary Delahunty.

Chele Crawley, is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am and on Wednesdays at 7.30pm in the Annebrook House Hotel, Mullingar.

Aspiring and fun writers welcome.