Sir, – Hilary Fannin's description of her childhood family car journeys to visit two ancient aunts in Athlone, with her salute to Kinnegad en route, was a joy to read ("The unbridgeable distance to the Kinnegad of my youth", May 6th).
Apart from recalling for me what it was like being a captive backseat passenger on many similar trips, her story reminded me of a small shop in the middle of Athlone which was run by two elderly spinster sisters.
The two were almost identical, which made it difficult to be sure which of them actually served you in the dimly lit premises. Eventually, nature took its course, and one of the old ladies passed on to her reward.
Soon afterwards, a customer called in and was about to offer his condolences to the surviving sibling, when he became confused as to the identity of which sister was behind the counter.
In his embarrassment, all he could do was to blurt out, “Was it you or your sister what died ?” – Yours, etc,
KEVIN TIERNAN,
Navan,
Co Meath.