by Caragh Bell
‘Of course we will,’ she said. ‘When will it be running?’
‘In a month’s time,’ answered Val. ‘I’m really excited.’
Samantha picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. ‘I did Sive in school. I’d love to see it again.’
Val smiled. ‘Thanks, guys, I’m pretty nervous about it, to be honest.’
Lydia glanced around Colin’s flat. She strained to see one item out of place but failed. The floor shone and every visible surface gleamed. The cushions on the sofa were plump and arranged perfectly.
‘Do you have a cleaner, Col?’ Lydia enquired, knowing full well that Colin spent hours maintaining his flat. ‘It seems even more sterile than normal.’
Colin looked shocked. ‘I do not! I just like things tidy – you know that I’m a neat freak.’
‘More like OCD,’ said Samantha under her breath.
‘I heard that!’ shrieked Colin.
‘Wait until you see our new flat,’ said Lydia grinning. ‘You’ll be so impressed.’
‘Appalled, more like.’ Colin helped himself to some salad. ‘Now tuck in. The béchamel took me forever to perfect.’
The lasagne was delicious but, as Lydia was mopping up the last of the sauce on her plate with her bread, she reflected that it wasn’t as good as her mother’s recipe. No one could cook like Helen Kelly. All her life, she and her siblings had been lucky enough to eat home-cooked meals made from scratch. When her friends spoke of having Dolmio days, she had never really understood. Helen, obsessed with cookery programmes and books, had experimented with dinners throughout the years. Inspired by different cuisines, she had served them tacos and even sushi long before anyone else. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are,’ she would say when her husband refused point blank to eat carpaccio of beef. ‘It’s far from raw beef I was raised, Helen,’ he would answer in disgust. The real irony was that, despite being exposed to such culinary pioneering, Lydia herself could barely boil an egg.
‘Did everyone have enough?’ Colin put his knife and fork together on his plate.
The rest of the diners nodded.
‘I hope you saved space for dessert. I made my own personal favourite: tarte aux pommes with crème anglaise.’
‘Or apple tart with custard for us plebs,’ said Samantha, winking.
Colin ignored her. ‘Please note the uniform size of the apple segments cut meticulously by moi.’ He bowed his head. ‘And no, I’ve never been on Masterchef.’
Val raised his glass. ‘Fair play for even attempting to bake. I would have bought a Viennetta at the shop.’
Lydia giggled. ‘Me too.’
Colin placed a large tart on the table and picked up a knife. ‘Prepare to be blown away by Colin McCarthy’s pâtisserie.’
All three held out their plates.
When they had finished, Colin stacked the empty plates. The next sound they heard was water running as he filled the sink. Samantha offered to help, but he shook his head.
‘I’ll have it done in a jiffy,’ he said as he squirted Fairy liquid into the basin.
Val patted his stomach. ‘Thanks, Col, that dinner was amazing.’
Colin went bright red. ‘Cheers, I do try.’
Lydia glanced fondly at Colin who was scrubbing pots and singing along to ‘Woman in Love’. Samantha followed her gaze and giggled.
‘He’s so tuneful,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘How does he hit those high notes?’
‘God knows.’
Lydia’s phone started to ring. She fished it out of her bag and saw Helen Kelly’s number flashing on the screen. ‘I’ll take this in the hall,’ she muttered, getting to her feet and answering the call.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘I hear Colin cooked up a storm. Diana rang earlier.’
‘Yes, it was delicious.’
‘Who’s this Valentine? Is he a nice boy?’
‘Val? Yeah, he seems pretty nice. Colin seems smitten.’
‘Is that him singing in the background?’
‘Need you ask? What’s up anyway?’
‘Ollie and Sarah are coming home this weekend. Is Dominic coming down? Can you two come for a family dinner on Saturday?’
Lydia bit her lip. Ollie and Sarah: her older siblings. Chaos was the result of Kelly get-togethers. Sarah and Molly normally started fighting over stolen clothes or make-up and Ollie could be so annoying.
‘Lyd? Can you come?’ Helen Kelly had a pleading note in her voice.
‘Oh, all right, we’ll be there. Just tell Dad to stock up on booze.’
‘Great, love. I’m looking forward to it. It’s not often we’re all together.’
Lydia hung up the phone and sighed.
‘What is it with mothers and emotional blackmail?’ she asked, rejoining the group at the table.
Samantha raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s up?’
‘Family get-together next Saturday.’ Lydia examined her nails. ‘Dom really wanted to hang out in my new five-star bedroom.’
‘He’ll have a lucky escape, Lydia, if you intended to feed him!’ said Sam. ‘Take the central heating and home-cooked food if it’s offered.’
Colin nodded in agreement. ‘Think about it. Haute cuisine, nice wine and Andy to look at.’
Lydia raised her eyes to heaven. Colin had a major crush on her sister Sarah’s boyfriend, Andy. Unrequited, of course. Nevertheless, he was like a love-struck teenager at family functions.
‘Do you think old Auntie Hel could fit me in too?’ he asked hopefully.
‘No!’ Lydia shook her head vehemently. ‘You have a family of your own, you know.’
‘You have a family of your own, you know,’ mimicked Colin in a silly voice. ‘Fine, Lyd, I can take a hint.’
They took their glasses and moved into the lounge area.
‘When is our first tutorial?’ asked Lydia, stretching her legs. ‘I hope I get Brendan Cleary as my tutor. He’s so amazing.’
‘I hope I get him too,’ said Colin excitedly.
Lydia put her head in her hands. ‘Is there any escape?’
Colin, looking mock-wounded, fell back onto the couch.
‘Anyone for a top-up?’ asked Samantha, changing the subject.
‘Sam, I would love a top-up,’ said Val, smiling, and she filled his glass.
‘I think we should toast the chef,’ suggested Samantha. ‘To Colin!’
‘To Colin!’ they chorused.
‘And to the best apple pie I’ve ever had,’ added Val.
‘Tarte aux pommes!’ corrected Lydia wagging her finger. ‘Sacré bleu, Val. Get it right.’
Chapter 4
Dominic’s Mercedes pulled up outside Lydia’s house, just as she was zipping up her bag. She leaned out the window and called out to him as he got out.
‘The door’s open, Dom! Just come up!’
He arrived in her doorway looking like a magazine ad, his dark-blue jeans and purple T-shirt accentuating his lean muscular frame.
Lydia’s face broke into a broad smile. Standing on her tip-toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she murmured into his ear. He smelled of Eternity.
‘Me too, baby.’
They kissed each other furiously. Lydia ran her fingers through his thick hair, luxuriating in its softness. Gently he lowered her onto the bed and pressed his hard body against hers. Lydia felt her breath quicken.
‘What time do we have to be at yours?’ he whispered, nibbling her ear.
‘Later,’ said Lydia pulling off his T-shirt. ‘No hurry at all.’
Dominic stared kissing her throat, inhaling her sweet smell. Lydia opened his belt and awkwardly tugged at his jeans. Moving his hand up under her top, he unhooked her bra and stared down at her heaving, excited body.
‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he said gruffly, cupping her breasts with his hands. Lowering his head, he started to trail his tongue across her skin.
Lydia moaned as his t
ongue swirled around her nipple. His touch was so light it made her ache. Grasping his hair, she pulled his mouth up to her own and kissed him deeply.
She spread her legs and Dominic growled as he plunged deep inside her. Lydia gasped in pleasure. Slowly he began to move, grinding his hips against hers. She threw her head back and groaned. Grabbing the headboard, she bit her lip as her pleasure mounted.
Finally, it was over. They both lay in silence, their bodies slick with sweat.
‘Welcome home,’ grinned Lydia, kissing his forehead.
Dominic smiled. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘Lydia! What kept you?’
Seán Kelly, Lydia’s dad, was shovelling coal into the fire when they finally arrived.
‘Hi, Daddy,’ Lydia bent down and kissed the top of his head. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Ollie is in the kitchen, eating your mother out of house and home. Sarah and Andy are upstairs. Molly is on the phone for a change.’
Lydia giggled. Seán Kelly and his youngest child were constantly at loggerheads over the phone bill and her lengthy evening conversations with her best friend Adele. ‘Don’t you see that Regan one all day at school? What else have you got to talk about?’ was the usual argument. Cue Molly flouncing upstairs, banging doors.
‘Dominic!’ Seán’s face broke into a smile. ‘How’s the job going?’ He got to his feet and shook Dominic’s hand.
‘Great, I love it. I’m exhausted but it’s worth it.’
Lydia drifted off into the kitchen. Her mother was heaving a roast out of the oven, while her older brother by three years was eating a ham sandwich and reading The Examiner.
‘Hi, Mum – hey, Ollie.’
Helen Kelly wiped her brow. ‘Hello, love, great timing. Grab the colander and take up the carrots. Then pour the gravy into a jug and put the potatoes into that warm bowl.’
‘What has Ollie been doing all this time?’ asked Lydia in annoyance, observing her relaxed brother munching on his sandwich and reading about Jennifer Aniston.
‘Ollie had a long week, darling.’ Helen looked reproving. ‘He works so hard.’ She ruffled his hair.
‘Yeah, Lyd, get on with the woman’s work,’ said Ollie with his mouth full.
Lydia scowled. She was so sick of the way Ollie got away with everything.
Oliver Kelly had walked on water since the day he was born. The only son, he was adored by his doting mother. He rarely came home for weekends but, when he did, it was like Christmas. The fridge was filled with delicious food to ‘fatten him up’ and Helen smiled constantly. She hung on every word he said and he was exempt from menial household chores.
‘So, Ted, how’s single life treating you?’ Ollie asked, chewing loudly.
He had always called her Ted. It was a pet name since they were children.
Lydia feigned confusion. ‘Sorry? I don’t understand. Did anyone ever tell you not to eat with your mouth full?’ She wrinkled her nose disapprovingly.
Ollie swallowed dramatically. ‘I said, how’s life without Dom? Do you like being a single lady?’
Lydia reddened. It was as if he had a sixth sense regarding her emotional Achilles’ heel.
‘Shut your face!’ she said, lifting the tub of Bisto threateningly. ‘I am not single. Dom is in the sitting room as we speak.’
‘Now, Ollie,’ warned Helen, trying to be serious, “don’t start on Lydia. Let’s keep the peace.’
‘I didn’t say a word, Ma. She’s overreacting as usual.’
‘Piss off, Ollie!’ Lydia grabbed the gravy boat. ‘Go pick on Molly.’
He laughed. ‘No way! She’s giving you a run for your money in the bad-mood stakes. She tore the head off me there for turning off the crap she watches and putting on the rugby. Within two seconds she had MTV blaring again so I was forced to come in here and read the paper.’
‘Oh dear!’ mocked Lydia. ‘You poor thing!’ She walked into the sitting room.
Dominic was now ensconced on the sofa with Toto on his lap and a beer in his hand. A rugby match was on the television again. Lydia smiled. Molly would not be impressed when she eventually came down to the bosom of her family.
‘How’s the car going?’ Seán Kelly asked Dominic.
‘Oh fine, Seán. I don’t have the top down so much as the weather is getting too cold, but she’s going fine.’
Dominic had splurged on a second-hand silver Mercedes SLK after he graduated. It was four years old with red leather seats and a soft top. Lydia loved driving with the top down. Her big plan was to drive around Italy and France after graduation, stopping in hill-top villages and eating Mediterranean cuisine. She warned Dominic to save up his holidays so that they could take three weeks off. She hugged herself in delight at the thought of it.
Sarah Kelly walked in at that very moment.
‘Lyd!’
‘Sarah!’
They hugged each other warmly.
‘You look so tanned!’ exclaimed Lydia. ‘How was Rome?’
Sarah beamed. ‘Amazing. We stayed near the Spanish Steps. Andy spent his time eating ravioli and gelato.’ She smiled at her boyfriend fondly.
‘Hi, Lyd,’ said Andy, giving her a peck on the cheek. ‘How’s college?’
‘Same old story,’ she replied. ‘Colin is in all my classes again.’
‘How is my biggest fan?’ asked Andy, smiling.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled up outside any second,’ warned Lydia. ‘He just loves Kelly family get-togethers, especially when you’re around.’
Sarah poured herself a glass of wine. ‘Where’s Ollie? I thought he wanted to watch the rugby?’
‘Rugby?’ came a shrill voice from the hall. ‘Who put on that bloody match again?’ Molly swept into the room, phone in one hand, hairdryer in the other. ‘Ring you back later, Adele. Keep me posted on the Darren thing.’ She dropped the phone on the table and grabbed the remote. ‘Do any of you realise that the Leonardo Di Caprio True Hollywood Story is on?’
Seán Kelly put his head to one side. ‘Was he the guy who swam the Channel?’
Lydia suppressed a smile and walked back into the kitchen.
‘Dinner is ready, love,’ said her mum, carving the beef. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Absolutely. Olls, get up and help me.’
Ollie stood up and stretched. ‘Of course I will, Ted. Just give me a mo – I’m digesting my starter.’
Lydia could never understand how her brother consumed so much food and was still so skinny.
Minutes later food was being piled onto plates and there was a buzz of conversation.
‘So I’m taking Romanticism, Modernism and …’
‘We removed a gall bladder …’
‘Leonardo di Caprio is like the most gorgeous guy ever …’
‘We took the metro to the Vatican and toured the museums …’
Seán Kelly tapped his fork on his wineglass and cleared his throat. The conversation died away. All eyes turned to the top of the table.
‘We would like to make an announcement.’
‘Jesus, Mum, you’re not pregnant, are you?’ Molly looked alarmed.
Helen Kelly smiled. ‘No, pet, I’m a bit beyond that.’
Seán lifted his glass. ‘I have decided to retire.’
Lydia’s father was the principal of the local school. After nearly forty years of service he had decided to throw in the towel. Helen was eager to travel and he’d had enough of the stress and pressure.
Sarah jumped to her feet. ‘Daddy! That’s wonderful news!’ She went and threw her arms around his neck.
Shouts of congratulations followed and pats on the back. Mum disappeared into the kitchen and produced a bottle of Moët she had been chilling in the fridge. The ‘good’ champagne flutes were taken out of the glass cabinet, the cork popped and everyone toasted the happy news.
Lydia watched her father laughing and joking with Ollie. He looked years younger. She squeezed Dominic’s hand and he returned the pre
ssure.
Molly had disappeared into the kitchen, using the opportunity to ring Adele back.
Suddenly Lydia’s phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Colin, all in caps.
KARAOKE AT DOYLE’S TOMORROW NITE. IT’S BACK! SEE U THERE X
Dominic read the message too. ‘There will be no stopping him now, Lyd,’ he grinned.
Lydia rolled her eyes. The local pub near college ran a karaoke night on Sundays during the academic year. Colin was a regular fixture. He lived for the stage and Lydia had to admit that he was hugely entertaining. Occasionally she and Samantha had ended up singing ‘The Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing tunelessly into the microphone.
‘Do you have to drive back to Dublin tomorrow?’ she asked.
Dominic nodded. ‘I’ll leave at lunchtime to beat the traffic. As much as I’d love to be there for Colin’s performance, I have an early start on Monday.’ He stroked her neck.
‘He’ll drag me along, now that I have no excuse,’ Lydia groaned.
‘Go and watch him, Lyd – you’ll enjoy it.’
Lydia drained her wine. ‘I can predict it already. Britney followed by Lady Gaga.’
Dominic smiled. ‘And don’t forget Celine Dion.’
‘He’s such a cliché,’ moaned Lydia, putting her head in her hands. ‘I’ll never survive it.’
‘Lydeeeeeeaaaaa!’
Lydia pulled a pillow over her head.
‘Lydia Kelly!’
‘Go away,’ she croaked, her mouth dry and her head pounding. Why did she drink all that wine last night? Dominic groaned and rolled over, pulling her close.
‘Ignore them,’ he murmured into her hair.
‘Lydia, move it!’ Molly burst in the door of her room.
Lydia jumped. ‘Jesus, Mol, don’t you knock?’
‘Sarah and Andy are going away in half an hour. Mum wants a family breakfast.’
Dominic sat up and stretched. ‘Give us a few minutes, Molly. I’ll get her up.’
The door slammed shut.
‘Can’t move, Dom, don’t try and make me.’
‘Lyd, come on. How does a nice cool glass of water sound?’