"I suppose that's why he saw the angels, due to the drink." Kit said.
"God knows what he'll see after the Emu Burgundy." her father said ruefully. "I've had to tell him that's the last of the stock, that you can't get it any more."
"That's a lie." said Emmet.
"I know it is, son, but it's tell a lie or have the poor fellow lying on the road, roaring up to the skies."
"Sister Madeline says that we're all a bit mad; it's what makes us different from other people." Kit said.
"Sister Madeline is a saint." Mother said. "Did you go to see her yet, Rita, about the other thing?"
"I will, Mrs McMahon, I will." Rita said, and put the big dish of macaroni cheese on the table.
Even though they ate in the kitchen Mother always insisted that everything was elegantly served. They had coloured place mats instead of a table cloth, and there was a big raffia mat for the casserole dish. It was decorated with sprigs of parsley, one of Mother's touches for making food look nice.
"Wouldn't it all taste the same no matter the way it looked, Mam?" Rita used to say at one time.
"Let's have it looking nice anyway." Mother would say gently, and now it was second nature for Rita to cut tomatoes into triangles and slice hard-boiled eggs thinly.
Even though the Kellys ate in a separate dining room, Kit knew that their meals were not served gracoiusly as they were in her home. It was another thing that made her feel her mother was special.
Rita was made part of the family, unlike the Kellys' maid.
Emmet loved Rita, and was always very curious about her comings and goings. "What other thing?" Emmet asked. "Helping me with reading." Rita spoke out clearly before Emmet could be asked not to be nosy. "I never learned it properly at school, you see. I wasn't there often enough."
"Where were you ?" Emmet was envious. It was so wonderful to be able to say casually that you skiped school.