‘. . . the colour of the wrapping paper is gender neutral and the chocolate is low-sugar.’
‘Mugabe!’ came a shout from behind but when Robin turned Ruby was sipping her gin and tonic and staring blankly at Ellen.
‘This is the first such treasure hunt,’ continued Ellen, megaphone firmly in place, ‘so we will need to go over the rules.’
‘We just run around and find as many eggs as we can!’ someone shouted.
‘No,’ said Ellen. ‘That’s an Easter egg hunt. This is an Easter egg treasure hunt. It’s different. There are clues.’
‘Like someone shouting hot when you’re near a hidden egg and cold when you’re not?’
‘Again,’ said Ellen, with slightly more edge, ‘that’s an Easter egg hunt. A treasure hunt has riddles, written on pieces of paper, each one leading to the next until the winner gets to the end of the clue trail where they’ll find the eggs.’
‘Will Bernie be out to explain the rules?’ called a woman from the other side of the crowd, and the road suddenly went silent.
Somewhere a spoon clattered to the ground and the sound reverberated for a good three seconds.
‘Lisa Channing,’ whispered Edie. ‘The family have been in Berlin for six months. Just back last night. They clearly haven’t been briefed.’
‘Bernie Watters-Reilly is sitting out this pre-Easter street party,’ said Ellen, her voice definitely higher now. ‘I am in charge.’
Carmel crept up beside them, waved at Edie and dutifully reciprocated Jack’s request for a high-five.
‘I see your man’s here,’ she whispered. And though Robin was doing her best not to look at Cormac, her eyes immediately flickered to where she knew he was, beside his sisters. Only this time he didn’t feel her eyes on him. He was concentrating on Ellen, who was still standing on the chair.
‘I know,’ Robin whispered back. ‘I saw him going into Martha’s earlier.’
‘Not him,’ said Carmel. ‘Your other man, the charlatan toe-rag.’ Her mother jerked her head towards the bottom of the road. ‘Eddy’s here.’
THIRTY-NINE
Edie was trying her absolute best to concentrate on everything Ellen was saying but it was hard with so much going on; both on the street – a whole set of balloons had just broken free from the streetlamp outside Rita Ann’s – and in her head.
It was difficult to be still, though she was trying, when her body was ready to burst with giddy joy.
‘Those participating in the inaugural Pine Road Easter Egg Treasure Hunt will divide themselves into teams of two,’ boomed Ellen.
Two, repeated Edie to herself. Teams of two. Right. Got it.
‘Why do you need teams for an egg hunt?’
‘It’s not an egg hunt!’ Ellen yelled, which, combined with the megaphone, created terrible reverb. ‘It’s a treasure hunt! All right? An Easter egg TREASURE hunt. It was in the booklets!’
Edie looked to the side to make sure Robin was also paying attention – she pitied the resident who had any follow-up questions – but she was gone. It was just Carmel there now.
‘The woman’s a maniac,’ said Carmel, a little too loudly for Edie’s liking. Although she had to agree. She had the utmost admiration for Ellen’s preparation skills and timekeeping, but the woman’s face was currently going from red to purple. Bernie Watters-Reilly was equally intimidating, but at least she gave the impression of being calm and collected.
Edie looked up towards Bernie’s house, where all the curtains were still pulled, and felt a deep pang of guilt. A big part of her good mood was for the same reason that another neighbour was in turmoil. Edie hadn’t been glad to hear Declan Reilly was the one responsible for the list, or that the guards had been involved, but she couldn’t help feeling relieved – and yes, okay, joyous – to learn that this was why the police had called to Bernie’s house and not because they were investigating Peter’s dog.
Edie had been having nightmares in which her husband was escorted away in handcuffs while the women on the road messaged one another about it, having set up another, secret, WhatsApp group. But she no longer had to worry. The police were not involved. The relief was immense.
There was no reason for Daniel to fear becoming a father now. The dog bite couldn’t have been that bad if they weren’t investigating. Edie hadn’t mentioned what she knew because things had been great the past few weeks. The garage was going well and Daniel was relaxed again. Even earlier today, when Shay Morrissey took one of her homemade biscuits and eyeballed her husband while declaring it ‘yum-yum num-num’, Daniel hadn’t punched him.
‘We have fifteen copies of the first clue, which means fifteen teams – of TWO PEOPLE – can take part,’ boomed Ellen. ‘The clues are all hidden in houses and gardens around Pine Road. Please be respectful in homes and do not make a mess. When you’ve read a clue, put it back where you found it so the next team can also have a chance of locating it.’
‘Hey, teammate,’ whispered Daniel, creeping up behind her and putting his arm around her waist.
‘Nope. Sorry, Daniel. This hunt isn’t for you. You have your own treasure hunt to do.’
‘Edie,’ he groaned. ‘You know I’m not good at riddles . . .’
This was true. It was why he hated Christmas crackers.
‘It’s only five clues,’ she said. ‘And they’re not difficult. You’ll be done before you know it.’
‘And who’ll do the treasure hunt with you?’
‘I’ll find a partner. It’ll be good for neighbour team building.’
He groaned. Edie smiled. Things were good.
She pulled a folded rectangle of fancy paper from her back pocket and handed it to him. ‘First clue.’
Ellen continued to call out instructions: ‘If everyone wishing to participate could come up to this space in front of me, we’ll get started.’
Daniel unfolded the note and read. ‘When you come in the door, you throw the keys here; the object is heavy, but the material is clear.’ He looked up at Edie. ‘The glass bowl on our hall table?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, trying to do that one-shoulder, nonchalant shrug Robin was so good at. ‘Go and see for yourself.’
She gave him a final kiss, on the lips, and ran off to stand in front of Ellen Russell-O’Toole and look for a treasure hunt partner. She didn’t care about winning, she really was one of those people who just liked taking part, but she did think a morning spent making her own clues might give her an edge; she was already in a rhyming, riddling state of mind.
She was one of the first to reach the marked-off area. Fiona’s twins were there, arms linked, and Fiona stood behind them, talking to Rita Ann.
‘Will we make a little team, Rita Ann?’ cooed Fiona, going to link her neighbour.
‘We will not,’ retorted the older woman, yanking her arm away. ‘Your voice goes through my head. It’s like one of those hearing tests. It’s a wonder it doesn’t set the dogs off.’
Fiona’s face dropped. Edie felt terrible. Honesty was important, but not as important as compassion.
‘I’ll be your partner, Fiona,’ she said brightly.
The woman’s face spread with relief. ‘Oh thanks, hun! That’d be great! I love a little healthy competition. I find it’s good for the complexion.’ She linked Edie. ‘Gets all those red blood cells flowing.’
Ellen climbed down from her chair and threw a bag of high-vis jackets over her arm. ‘Right. Who’s got a team?’
‘Me and Fiona!’ shouted Edie, throwing her arm in the air.
‘Yass, kween!’
‘Jesus Christ,’ muttered Rita Ann, sticking her finger in her left ear.
‘And us!’ called the twins.
‘Myself and Pat,’ said one of the less friendly neighbours who lived on the opposite side of the road to Edie.
‘Hang on, hang on.’ Ellen picked up a clipboard from the ground beside her chair and started writing down names, handing out the jackets as she went. ‘Right, who else?�
��
Little Jack ran up then, pulling a handsome man behind him.
Ellen looked the man up and down. ‘Who are you? You’re not from Elm, anyway. Oak? Chestnut?’
‘I’m Eddy,’ he said, placing a hand on Jack’s head. ‘I’m Jack’s dad.’
So that was Robin’s ex. Edie could see the attraction – your classic brooding bad boy, really – but personally, she preferred kind and loyal. She hugged herself as she looked up in the direction of their house. Daniel should be on the second clue by now, maybe even the third.
Ellen tapped her clipboard and looked from Eddy to Jack. ‘Are you a team?’
‘What do you say, Jacko? Are we doing the egg hunt?’
‘It’s not an egg—’
‘YESSSS!’ The little boy started running around his father’s legs.
Eddy gave Ellen a crooked smile. ‘I guess we’re a team then.’
I’d say everything’s crooked about you, bucko, thought Edie, rallying her loyalty in a bid to cancel out the fact that she found his smile rather charming. Lovely eyes.
‘Right,’ muttered Ellen, digging in her bag of jackets. ‘I’ve got a kid’s one in here somewhere . . .’
Martha’s family appeared then – all except Martha herself. ‘Me and Mum are a team,’ Sinead Costello informed Ellen. ‘And Orla, my dad and Ellis are another team.’
‘I like your donkey ears, hun,’ cooed Fiona.
Orla brushed her long, thin hair from her face and touched her sorry-looking animal ears. ‘These are lamb ears. They’re anatomically and seasonally correct.’
‘Are they?’ encouraged Fiona. ‘Good for you. My girls are wearing sparkly bunny ears. Willow even made a cute little tail to match.’
Orla frowned; every time she adjusted her glasses, the DIY ears drooping slightly. ‘Rabbits don’t have sparkly ears. Costumes cause a lot of miseducation. People grow up thinking all rabbits are pink and white and that quadruped mammals have prehensile, multifingered hands and feet rather than paws.’
Fiona nodded, smiling, not really listening. ‘The girls are dead cute. You’ll probably want a pair when you see them.’
Orla looked doubtful. Ellen put her fingers to her lips and whistled.
‘Can we stay on track here, please?’ She looked down at her clipboard. ‘Who’s Ellis?’
Martha’s son raised his hand. Martha’s son who was also the fella Robin was seeing. She’d heard that from Carmel, and also that it was all off between them. Which seemed a pity.
‘I go by Cormac, usually.’
‘Fascinating,’ mumbled Ellen, making notes on her list. ‘Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to be your partner, Cormac. It’s only two per team.’
‘I told you,’ grumbled Orla.
Ellen tapped her clipboard again. ‘And where is your mother? We’re in serious danger of getting behind schedule here.’
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Robert Costello and he headed off towards their house.
A few more participants came forward and Ellen started physically moving people around so they stood in clearly defined pairs.
‘Right,’ she said, ‘how many teams is that now? Six, seven – you need to find another partner, Cormac – eight, nine . . .’
Robin came flying into the circle.
‘Robin, have you got a part—’
But Robin wasn’t paying any attention to Ellen; she immediately rounded on Jack’s father.
‘Why are you here?’ she half-shouted, arms straight by her side. ‘You can’t be here. You have to go. Now.’
‘Relax, babe. I’m here to see Jack, and you. I hear you’ve been telling stories about me—’
‘I’m serious, Eddy; you can’t be here.’ Robin looked around fretfully. ‘Where’s Martha? Edie?’
‘Oh,’ said Edie. ‘Martha?’ Why was Robin looking for Martha? ‘I don’t know.’
‘Robin, if you’re not taking part in the treasure hunt, I’m afraid you need to leave the circle. We are really pushing it for time.’
Edie glanced at Daniel’s watch. They were three minutes behind schedule. She felt stressed on Ellen’s behalf.
Robin turned to Ellen, not even trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. ‘What are you saying?’ She was either very brave or foolish, or most likely just hadn’t been on Pine Road long enough. ‘Fine, yes, whatever. I’m taking part.’
‘In that case, you need a partner.’
‘Jack. I’m with Jack.’
‘No, Mammy,’ said Jack, shaking his head regretfully, ‘I’m with Daddy.’
‘Fine then, Edie. Can I be your partner, Edie?’
‘I actually already agreed to be with Fiona. Sorry, Robin, if I’d known—’ Fiona got a tighter grip on her elbow.
Orla was looking around now. ‘I’m going to get Mum and Dad!’ And she was off before Ellen could remind her how behind schedule they were. Robin watched her go and then started on her ex, more anxious this time.
‘You have to leave, Eddy. Now!’
‘I’m going nowhere, babe. I’m hanging out with Jacko, and you and me need to talk.’
‘I’m sorry now, Robin, but without a partner, you can’t be here. I’ll have to ask you to—’
‘I’ll be her partner.’
Half the circle looked over to the hipster journalist who, Carmel had informed Edie, wasn’t actually a journalist at all.
‘Who’s the fella?’ someone half-whispered.
‘It’s the new woman’s son,’ said someone else.
‘I don’t think . . .’ Robin began, but Ellen was already putting a hand on each of her shoulders and pushing her over to stand beside Cormac. She threw a fluorescent vest over Robin’s shoulder.
‘We are now ten minutes behind schedule, people!’
Eddy was eyeing up Cormac, while Jack tried to scale his back. Lucky Robin. Edie knew it wasn’t very modern feminist of her, but she quite liked the idea of two men vying for her affections.
‘We are now officially in code red of scheduling. I’m sorry, Sinead,’ said Ellen, turning to Martha’s daughter, ‘but we’re going to have to start without the rest of your family—’
‘Here comes the lamb!’ shouted someone.
‘Eddy!’ shouted Robin. ‘Just leave! Please!’
‘People! Please! We are twelve minutes behind schedule!’
Orla landed in the circle with a thud, hair tangled around the ears. Edie thought she looked more like a mouse. ‘Mum and Dad are fighting,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘I’ll be with Sinead.’
‘Are they okay?’ the hipster non-journalist asked his sister, as Robin started shouting at Eddy again. Jack was whimpering and Fiona’s twins were singing along to whatever song was playing.
‘That’s enough!’ roared Ellen, jumping up and down as her face went all grape-like again.
Everyone stopped.
Edie and Fiona exchanged a look. Edie quickly pulled on her fluorescent singlet.
‘Everyone gets the same first clue,’ said Ellen, handing out the envelopes. ‘Do not open these until I say “Go”. Each clue leads to the next, until the ninth one, which leads to the eggs. Put the clues back when you find them, and first one to the eggs wins. All right?’ Ellen took a deep breath and reached for the stopwatch around her neck. ‘Any questions?’
One of the not-so-friendly-neighbours from the other side of the road raised his hand.
‘Quick one for you, Ellen.’
She sighed. ‘Yes, Pat.’
‘I’m just wondering what exactly we need clues for in an egg hunt?’
FORTY
Martha had forgotten the serving cream.
She left the dessert on one of the pink tables and went back into her kitchen to grab the carton from the fridge. The electric whisk handles were in the dishwasher, which Robert had already turned on – maybe things weren’t just back to normal, maybe they were better; he’d never bothered with the dishwasher before – so she rooted out the hand whisk from th
e second drawer.
The cream was just starting to thicken when a deafening sound went up from outside and Martha dropped the whisk into the bowl.
‘Damn it!’
She picked up a tea towel and walked into the hallway to see what the racket was. She dabbed at her new Rixo shirt, trying to erase the extra dashes of white added by the cream. It couldn’t be a car alarm blaring: all the vehicles had been moved.
When she got to the door, the ringing stopped and she saw Ellen Russell-O’Toole standing on a chair with a megaphone in hand.
‘. . . marks the beginning of a new, more exciting, more morally upstanding chapter . . .’
Martha’s three children were in the crowd, side by side, Orla’s anatomically correct sheep ears sticking out rather than up. Robert was a little to the right, talking to another man. She smiled. They were all making friends.
Robert clapped the man on the shoulder and headed back towards their children. Martha, too, was about to go back into the kitchen when the man her husband had been talking to turned around.
The hand that was holding the tea towel shot up to her chest. She froze. He turned, making his way easily through the crowd, but she knew that face. It was him.
Out the door and on to the porch, she looked around but he’d vanished into the masses. Ellen was still yelling into her megaphone and what looked like a lamb was standing in a garden across the road. Martha was about to move out into the crowd when Rita Ann shouted at her.
‘Trish says you’re getting cream!’
Martha looked over at her neighbour.
The woman shook a plate of something at her. ‘We need some over here!’
Martha’s eyes darted back to the crowd, but she could see neither her husband nor the man.
‘Yes, I . . . it’s coming,’ she called back to Rita Ann.
Should she go out and look for them, or should she go back in? What was her best move?
‘By itself?’
Not knowing what else to do, Martha turned back into the house.
She stood at her kitchen counter and tried to get things straight. She had not imagined it. She had seen him twice now on their new road, a place he had no business being. Why didn’t he just approach her? She was the one who’d seen his face, not Robert. Why didn’t he come to Martha and tell her to keep her mouth shut? Why was he talking to Robert?
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