Chapter 2

Perhaps Aoife only conceded to sending the letter because the likelihood of a Halloween night victory felt vanishingly small to her. The moment she read the mail, Saoirse gasped so loudly she startled herself. A bubbling laugh escaped her throat, and before she knew it, she was twirling across the room, her hair flying in wild arcs. She took the unsuspecting Aoife in her arms, grinning so hard her cheeks ached, then dropped her fiance on the edge of her bed with a breathless squeal. For a heartbeat she just sat there, staring at her beautiful bride-to-be. She whispered to the startled girl, “We’re going to Club Valhalla!”

Predictably, Aoife focused all her attention on one word in the email: “daring.” A daring costume. What did they mean by that? Their costumes until now had been very tame, but now a club of questionable reputation invited them. What would they consider “daring”? If it meant what Aoife was thinking, she was not comfortable wearing that. They discussed the level of depravity, how much skin is sexy and how much is sluttish.

They both agreed at last on the Wedding theme. Aoife was wearing a white wedding dress — from a thrift store — with red spots on virgin places. Saoirse was wearing a sheer bodice adorned with intricate black lace at strategic places and a torn long skirt halfway to her thigh. They both agreed that their partner looked ‘daring’.

It felt a bit like winning the golden ticket. They were not on their way to a chocolate factory, but towards the infamous Club Valhalla. In Spain there is a place that is called Cape Finisterre, meaning ‘the end of the world.’ If you don’t mind driving for hours on narrow, windy roads between two mountain ranges, if you don’t mind dense fog or rain showers for hours, you are welcome to Beara Peninsula in the South of Ireland. The End of the World, Irish Style.