‘Have you a proper coat? It’s cold,’ Noel said gruffly. The silence hung between them. Bobby knew well that his being cold was not the issue. The younger Bobby would have stood his ground and resisted; the older, more mature young man that he now was let it pass.
Bobby had gone to Mass wearing an old green parka over his maroon jacket. He knew it was a compromise, but for Carrie’s sake he’d made a decision to try to get through the few days at home with as little hassle as possible. If Shauna hadn’t been going abroad in the New Year, he might not have bothered coming home this year. But it might be their last time together as a family for a while. He wanted to make the most of it.
‘Tanta Plause.’ Chloe stroked the cuddly miniature Santa at the end of her Christmas stocking and listened with delight to the musical chimes emanating from the little xylophone Shauna was playing for her. It was seven forty-five a.m., the turkey was stuffed and in the oven, Greg was asleep and Shauna was playing with her daughter and sipping a welcome cup of tea.
The aroma of roasting turkey was beginning to fill the kitchen and she inhaled it appreciatively. She wanted everyone to enjoy their Christmas dinner. The caterers that she used had delivered several dozen tasty canapés, starters, soup, pudding and a selection of desserts, but she’d prepared the potatoes and vegetables that Carrie had brought. The ham was cooked and the marrowfat peas were steeping. She and Greg had done as much preparation as they could the previous evening but had managed to get to bed before midnight so she wasn’t too exhausted.
She wouldn’t have minded some help stuffing the turkey and lifting it into the oven. It was very heavy and just about fitted, but Greg had rolled over when the alarm clock had shrilled earlier and made no offer to help. Sometimes her husband could be decidedly selfish. His family was coming as well as hers; it wouldn’t have killed him to muck in a bit more.
Once the Christmas dinner was cooked and served she was downing tools, she decided. They could all help themselves to whatever they wanted afterwards and if Della and Eddie imagined for one second that they were getting a cooked dinner on St Stephen’s Day, she wouldn’t be cooking it!
Greg could drive up to Mass in Whiteshells Bay and back, today, she decided. If he thought she was going to drive and he was going to drink he could think again. If he had helped out with the turkey she would have driven with a good heart, but he could go shag himself, she thought grumpily. Della and co. were coming and she was going to be nice and relaxed and just the slightest bit tipsy when they arrived.
11
Carrie watched with pride as Davey stood at the altar holding his staff and dressed in long red and white robes, playing his part as St Joseph with great gravitas. She saw him bend down under the small manger and whisk out the little doll wrapped in swaddling clothes, and hand it to Ciara Clarke who was playing Mary. Ciara tenderly placed the doll in the manger, smoothing its blanket as the shepherds began to crowd around.
‘And so the infant Jesus was born,’ intoned the small narrator breathlessly as the children’s choir began to sing ‘Angels We Have Heard On High’, their young, enthusiastic voices filling the church.
‘I bet you wish it was that easy,’ Bobby murmured, highly entertained. ‘Oh, look. One of the angels is having a row with another one. This is better than the Abbey.’ Two little angels were engaged in a silent struggle over ownership of a scroll that bore the legend Baby Jesus. Fraught, the junior infants teacher hastened to settle the argument.
‘It was never like this in our day. It’s great, isn’t it?’ Bobby approved as Olivia in her role as Balthazar made her dramatic entrance carrying her jewellery box, which, much to her disappointment, did not contain gold, frankincense or even myrrh.
‘Couldn’t you at least get one of them?’ she’d demanded of her mother, when she’d been given the part.
After the last carol had been sung and the crib had been visited, the family set off for the graveyard that adjoined the church grounds. It was a chilly, bracing day. Banks of gunmetal cloud lay to the east on the horizon, a portent of the bad weather that was forecast for later in the day. The sea was choppy, with big white-frosted waves rolling in to shore. Birds chirruped in the bare-branched trees. Two red-berried pyracanthas on either side of the old green iron gates blazed their glory against the surrounding stone walls. Graves were festooned with flowers and wreaths, seasonal offerings for loved ones. Here and there, in small groups or singly, people stood at the graves. Carrie had always felt sorry for her friends and neighbours who had to go and visit graves on Christmas Day. Now they were part of that sad circle and it had become one of their Christmas rituals.
‘That’s a lovely wreath,’ Carrie said appreciatively as Shauna laid the arrangement of holly, ivy, skimmia, evergreen foliage and snowberries on their mother’s grave.
‘I made it up myself. I like doing things like that rather than buying ready-made stuff. I always feel Mam would like it better. Daft, I know.’ Shauna straightened up and brushed two holly berries off her gloves.
Carrie laid her arrangement of red roses and carnations nestled in frothy wisps of gypsophila beside Shauna’s wreath. ‘I got these because I used to always buy her red roses and red carnations for her flower arrangements on Christmas Day. It was our little tradition.’
Bobby knelt down and put a lovely outdoor candle arrangement in front of the headstone. He lit it before slipping the open-topped glass cover over it to keep it from blowing out.
Noel knelt and tenderly placed his offering of yellow and pink roses from the bushes in their own garden. Gardening had been a great bond between Anna and himself and he nurtured his roses especially carefully so that he would have fresh flowers to place on his wife’s grave on Christmas Day. A tear trickled down his cheek and Carrie’s heart contracted when she saw him brush it hastily away. She placed an arm round his shoulder and stood silently beside him.
Bobby saw it too and bowed his head, struggling with the myriad emotions that consumed him. His father’s harsh words came back to haunt him. It was because of worrying about him that his mother had suffered her heart attack and died, Noel had accused cruelly. Although Bobby’s reasoning mind argued that this was nonsense there was that small, dark, fretful place in him that wondered if his father was right and it was all his fault.
‘Bim bam bom, bim bam bom.’ Chloe’s carefree song broke the sad, subdued silence around the grave. ‘Bim bam bom, bim bam bom,’ she sang gaily to the sky, her curls dancing exuberantly in the breeze.
‘What are you singing, darling? That’s a lovely song,’ Carrie exclaimed, glad of the diversion.
‘That’s “Jingle Bells” to me and you, if you listen carefully,’ Shauna explained, grinning. Davey laughed uproariously.
‘Bim bam bom!’ he echoed. ‘She’s really funny.’
‘I like that version.’ Dan chuckled, lifting Chloe in his arms and singing ‘Bim bam bom’ back at her.
‘I bet Granny would like that too,’ Olivia said thoughtfully. ‘She liked Christmas songs. She used to sing them to me when I was small.’
‘Do you remember that?’ Carrie looked at her daughter in surprise. ‘Yes, Mom,’ Olivia assured her. ‘I used to sit on her knee and she used to sing me the songs. Will I sing her a song?’
‘Yes, love, you do that,’ Noel said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Granny would love that.’
‘I’m going to sing “Little Donkey”,’ Olivia decided. ‘This is especially for you, Granny. I hope you’re having a great Christmas in heaven. Santa brought me a Barbie Bride. I just thought I’d tell you before I start,’ she said matter-of-factly as she gazed up at the sky, earnest and intent.
‘Little donkey, little donkey,
On a dusty road,
Got to keep on plodding onwards,
With your precious load.’
Her pure childish voice rang out in the cold, clear air, her breath little curlicues of frosty white.
‘Ring out those bells tonight . . .’ Bobby added his contribution.
‘Bethlehem, Bethlehem.’ Dan’s deep baritone joined in.
‘BIM BAM BOM. BIM BAM BOM.’ Chloe was not to be outsung.
Carrie and Shauna started to giggle. And soon they were all laughing, even Noel, as they stood at the grave, singing to Anna, all except Greg, who shuffled, mortified, from one leg to the other, wishing they’d hurry up and get on with it. He hated visiting graves. He thought it was morbid. His own father had died years ago and he never visited the grave. His mother and a friend had gone to Egypt for Christmas, anxious to do a past-life regression at the pyramids, so he wouldn’t be seeing her again for a while.
‘Children are great, aren’t they?’ Shauna remarked to Carrie as they walked back down the narrow path towards the iron gates. ‘I just loved the way Olivia spoke to Mam as if she was there. I love the way she sang for her with no inhibitions, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.’
‘We should learn from our kids. It would be nice to believe Mam is here in spirit. It makes it more bearable to think so, doesn’t it?’ Carrie sighed.
‘I think she is here. I feel very close to her sometimes,’ Shauna said quietly. ‘Sometimes I sit and light a candle and play soft music and just think of her and I swear I can feel her around me.’
‘That’s a nice thing to do. I must try it sometime,’ Carrie said thoughtfully.
‘I do it when Chloe’s having a nap. You could do it when the kids are at school. It’s like switching off from the world and going to a different place.’
‘I could do with switching off from the world.’ Carrie grinned. ‘Come on, let’s go back to my house and have a cup of tea and a bite to eat before you get on the road. I’ll bring Dad and Bobby to Malahide in my car and Dan can bring the kids in his after we’ve finished our visiting.’
Shauna frowned. ‘That would mean Dan couldn’t have a few drinks. I know that you’re not drinking, but I’d like Dan to be able to and he won’t be able to if he’s driving.’
‘We’re not all going to fit in one car,’ Carrie pointed out.
‘Dad and Bobby can come back with us after we’ve had a cup of tea with you,’ Shauna said firmly. ‘I’ll sit in the back with Chloe and Bobby. Dad can sit in the front. He can stay the night or go back with you if he wants to. Bobby’s staying.’ Shauna pulled her scarf tighter round her neck.
‘Thanks, Shauna, that’s a good idea. I’d say Dad will come home with us, but we’ll see how it’s going. I’d like Dan to have a couple of drinks and relax. He’s been working his ass off coming up to Christmas,’ Carrie said gratefully.
‘No problem. Try and not be too late getting over, won’t you? It would be nice if we could have some time together before the Freeloaders arrive.’
‘I’ll do my best. Dan’s parents are going to his aunt’s so they’ll be anxious to get going. We won’t have to stay as long as we usually do,’ Carrie assured her. ‘With any luck we’ll have an hour or so before Della and co. arrive.’
Della shook a travel tablet into her hand and held it out to her daughter. ‘This will make you feel better, chicken. Now when we get to Shauna’s don’t say anything about being sick. Sure you won’t?’
‘No, Mommy,’ Kathryn said wearily, swallowing the tablet down with a sip of 7-Up. The best thing about being sick was getting lemonade, she decided. 7-Up tasted lovely.
Della glanced at her watch. Just gone half ten. The tablet would work within an hour and hopefully Kathryn would sleep her way to Dublin. She knew Shauna had said to come in the afternoon, but she could take a running jump. Della had no intention of hanging around a minute longer than necessary. Once that tablet was absorbed into Kathryn’s system they were hitting the road and if Shauna didn’t like it, she could lump it.
‘You’d want to mind that chap on the bike there, Greg. He’s not very steady. I suspect that he’s drunk,’ Noel declared as Greg drove out of Whiteshells Bay and headed for the M1.
Shauna gave Bobby a dig in the ribs and grinned. Bobby elbowed back. They were sitting in the back of the car and Noel had a running commentary on everything from his front seat position. Chloe, flakers in her seat after all the excitement of being with her cousins, was fast asleep. Shauna tucked a blanket round her daughter. ‘It’s great that she’s having a nap now; she won’t be cranky at dinner,’ she remarked cheerfully. She was surprised at how stress-free she felt, but she was actually enjoying her Christmas Day so far. The dinner was under control, Chloe was in good form, and Greg hadn’t protested too much when she’d told him that he was driving to and from Whiteshells Bay. She’d very much enjoyed her two glasses of champagne at Carrie and Dan’s and it had been fun watching the kids, giddy with excitement, play with their toys as they tucked into smoked salmon and delicious home-made brown bread.
She was looking forward to spending time with Bobby. She figured he could do with some rescuing. He’d been subdued at the grave and Shauna knew instinctively that he was remembering his father’s cruel assertions about the reason for their mother’s death. He was going to stay the night in her house and Carrie was bringing their father home. Her brother would have some respite from Noel.
‘Ah what speed are you doing there, Greg? I think it’s fifty on this stretch,’ Noel interjected.
‘Don’t worry about it, Mr McCarthy,’ Greg said tightly, trying to hide his irritation.
‘You don’t want to be stopped for speeding,’ Noel warned self-righteously.
‘The crib was lovely,’ Shauna remarked diplomatically, her nice buzz of relaxation beginning to fray. She could see by the taut line of Greg’s jaw that he was getting annoyed.
‘The new committee decided on using artificial greenery. I don’t think it worked as well as when myself and Mrs Murphy were in charge of it,’ Noel said petulantly. He had always looked after the decorating of the crib but this year the responsibility had gone to Mrs Hall and Miss Carter, much to his dismay. Father Doyle had told him that after his last hospital stay, he should not be doing strenuous duties such as putting up the crib. Noel had protested, but Father Doyle had suggested giving ‘the women’ a chance to show their mettle.
They had gone way overboard in Noel’s estimation, using poinsettias along the base of the crib. He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think poinsettias were indigenous to the Holy Land, a fact he was going to research and point out at the next committee meeting. He’d mentioned it to Mrs Hall but she’d just brushed him off and told him she was in charge this year. Noel had been raging. She wasn’t even from the parish. She’d moved from Dundalk a year ago and had muscled in on the parish committee. He detested her.
‘I thought it looked good. I liked the poinsettias,’ Shauna remarked, unaware of his feelings about the showy plants.
‘Not at all realistic,’ Noel said dismissively. ‘Cactus would have been more appropriate if they wanted authenticity.’
‘Oh.’ Shauna had no answer to that.
‘Traffic is heavy enough, isn’t it?’ Bobby observed.
‘I suppose everyone is out and about visiting,’ Greg replied as he put the boot down to overtake a red van. Shauna saw her father’s gaze flicker towards the speedometer and hoped that he’d keep his mouth shut. Greg would only take so much and then he’d tell Noel to mind his own business. She didn’t want a bad atmosphere to taint the day. Fortunately Noel, apart from a deep inhalation of breath, said nothing and Greg slowed down a little as he came onto the stretch leading to the turn-off for Malahide.
It was with relief, ten minutes later, that she saw the house ahead of them. She intended plonking her father in front of the TV with a cup of tea the minute she went in. That would keep him out of harm’s way. The smell of roasting turkey that wafted out of the kitchen, filling the hallway, made them all sniff appreciatively.
‘Smells good,’ Greg approved.
‘Will you just lift it out to baste it?’
‘Sure,’ her husband agreed. ‘I’ll just put Chloe into her cot. Bobby, help yourself to a drink; you can p
our me a beer. And whatever your dad would like.’
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Dad?’ Shauna took her father’s coat.
‘Lovely, Shauna. That would go down nicely.’ Noel rubbed his hands.
‘Why don’t you come in and sit by the fire? There might be something you’d like to watch on TV.’ She led him into the lounge and switched on the TV and the coal-effect gas fire. She handed him the remote control, showed him how to use it and then went to the kitchen where Bobby was opening two bottles of beer.
‘What are you going to have?’ he asked.
‘I think I’ll have a white wine spritzer. I need to keep my wits about me for a little while longer, regretfully.’ She made a face. The doorbell rang.
‘I’ll get it,’ Greg called. It was Maria and Colin: neighbours from down the road. Five minutes later another couple called in and a jolly buzz filled the house as Greg poured drinks for them and they nibbled on the selection of canapés Shauna had ordered from the caterers. The turkey, basted and turned, was cooking satisfactorily and Shauna had time to have a quick drink before she started the rest of the dinner. She made Noel’s tea and brought it in to him. She was determined to make the effort to see that he enjoyed his day. Carrie’s kindness was something to aspire to, she thought a little guiltily, remembering how sharp she often was with him.
‘Are you all right there, Dad? Will you have another canapé?’
‘No, this is grand. I don’t want to spoil my dinner,’ Noel assured her. He was watching a service of carols and Bible readings and was quite happy as he was. Shauna, her daughterly duty done, felt free to mingle with her guests. She hoped Carrie and Dan and the kids wouldn’t be too long. If only Della and Eddie weren’t coming it would have been great. Still, they wouldn’t be here for another hour and a half or so, she comforted herself as she took a long drink of her Chardonnay spritzer.
She was in the kitchen with Bobby putting more canapés on a tray when the doorbell pealed again. ‘Great, Carrie and Dan are here,’ she said happily.
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