I booked him for the fourth of July. Twenty-one covers. Whole shoulder of pork, chicken, two salads, flatbreads, the lot. One thousand four hundred and sixty dollars.
The second of June. I booked a marquee. Six by nine metres, delivered and erected Friday morning, collected Monday. Six hundred and forty dollars.
Twenty folding chairs and three trestle tables. A hundred and ten.
A portable loo, because there would be thirteen extra people and a bungalow has one bathroom. A hundred and eighty.
The ninth of June. I booked Ailish Vane, who cleans for two of my bookkeeping clients, for four hours on the Monday morning. A hundred and sixty.
Two crates of beer, three bottles of prosecco, soft drinks for the children and four bags of ice, delivered. Two hundred and thirty.
And a printer’s job — twenty-one printed menu cards, on good card, folded. Sixty dollars.
Two thousand eight hundred and forty dollars, on my card, out of the account I keep for the bookkeeping money.
