Harrington said that we could go back to charging the guests three pence for a proper bath.
“Should ‘ve been charging ‘em two shillings before what with all the extra work we was doing,”
Martin said. “Shovelling snow and putting pans on the stove. I’m glad it’s all over.”
“Will you not miss the pretty white fields?” Annie said to him.
“I will not Annie. If I never see a white field again in my life it will be too soon!” And me and
Annie laughed because we enjoyed teasing him and we knew sure enough that Martin was fed up with the snow because he missed playing the Hurling and the Gaelic.
On the first Sunday after the thaw, I got ready to go home for the evening, my first trip home
in two months. I was excited about getting home to see my mother and father, and brothers and sisters, and also about getting out on my bicycle, which had been safe in the sheds at the back of the hotel all the while. I pushed the bike up to the Main Street and passed Martin by the front door of the hotel. He was washing the windows and the front steps and sweeping away the last of the snow and the dirt and the salt that had collected on the street. It was a soft evening with a pale light that was only just starting to fade. Miss Harrington had let me off a bit early and I was eager to get away. Missus McDermott, the proprietress, would be closing the door at eleven pm, and we had to be back on the dot or else risk being locked out for the night.
“Better get off before it gets dark!” I said, putting my foot on the pedal of the bike.
“Hey Mai!” Martin shouted, as I swung the other leg over and pushed off. I tapped my foot to
the ground and looked back. “How did you know the blizzard was coming?” he said.
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I shrugged my shoulders. “Sixth sense!” I said, smiling to myself as I rode off.