I’ve known Ciaran and Collette, the twins, since their birth, their father being my best friend, and I had the honour to be chosen as Ciaran’s godfather at his baptism.
Collette’s charm and out going manner was the perfect foil to Ciaran’s serious, unsmiling demeanour, while Collette was enjoying a cranberry vodka at 2:00 a.m. chatting up all within range, Ciaran, was stoically sitting quietly at a corner table waiting to drive her home.
I remember discussions around the family dinner table with Collette passionately defending the current most insane topic doing its round on social media, while Ciaran attended to his food ignoring the passionate back and forth from other family members.
Now that they were 21 year of age, neither of them academics, my best friend approached me relating that they could not find work and badly needed a job because they were eating him out of house and home.
I told him I would give them an interview, explain to them the job requirements and see if they were interested.
So I laid everything out for them, waiting on tables, clearing the tables, washing the dishes, sweeping the floor and tidying up, and they both agreed, and so they were hired, which left only a cook/chef remaining to complete my ensemble.
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