It Started With Paris

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It Started With Paris Page 44

by Cathy Kelly


  ‘You could get a dog,’ her mother said eagerly.

  Leila shook her head. ‘My hours aren’t fair on a dog,’ she said. ‘I had to jump through hoops as it was. Although we might get one …’

  Her mother smiled.

  ‘I love the way you say we,’ she said.

  ‘You like this we?’ Leila said, smiling.

  ‘Yes, I approve of this we and I can’t wait to meet him.’

  ‘You approve without even meeting him?’

  Her mother reached out her swollen hands for her daughter’s.

  ‘I can tell how he makes you feel: happy about yourself, lovey. That’s the sort of man I wanted you to have. Plus, he loves Pixie, doesn’t he? You have to adore a man who likes dogs.’

  Ruby came into the shop with Vonnie to pick up the cake for the Desmond/Rhattigan wedding.

  She’d only been there once before, with Shelby, Dad and Shane, so it felt different and somewhat special to be there with Vonnie on their own for work.

  She felt so clear-headed these days, partly due to the wonderful new food plan she and Mum were on. Who knew she’d ever see her mother making vegetable soups?

  But the clear-headedness was also due to the psychologist she was seeing once a week.

  Mum drove her most days, but sometimes Dad did, and she liked getting into the car afterwards feeling as if she’d downloaded all the difficult things in her head.

  She’d told Mum she’d quite like to train as a psychologist when she was older.

  ‘You have plenty of material for a home case study here,’ Mum had said, laughing.

  ‘We’re not so crazy,’ Ruby had said easily. ‘We just hit a blip, and now—’

  ‘We’re on our way to being blip-free,’ finished her mother.

  ‘Delivering the cake is one of the most exciting parts of the whole business,’ Vonnie explained now, unlocking the door into the kitchen.

  Ruby wandered round looking at various drawings and photos of cakes, marvelling that this spotlessly clean and almost sterile place was a working kitchen.

  ‘Wow, what’s this one?’ she asked, peering closely at a sketch of a cake that looked like a cathedral complete with ancient clock and gargoyles.

  ‘Two architects requested this one,’ said Vonnie, standing behind her to look at it. ‘They love Gothic buildings and we modelled it on several cathedrals. It’s a little crazy, for sure, and is going to take some work, but Lorraine loves doing it. I’m beginning to think she’s wasted on flowers. The fun she had with those gargoyles!’

  Right on time, Freddie and Dennis, who helped move cakes, arrived for work.

  ‘If you two can deliver the Ryan/Fitzgerald cake to this address,’ said Vonnie, handing out papers, ‘and then the Vinci/Keyser one to the Central Hotel, we’re in business. Ruby and I will deliver the Desmond/Rhattigan one because there are going to be marquee people there who can help us set it up.’

  She turned to Ruby. ‘The cakes are heavy, so we need assistance sometimes,’ she explained.

  By half eight, they were in the van heading in the direction of the vast and elegant Vineyard Manor.

  ‘Fabulous place,’ Vonnie said as they drove in, admiring the beautiful gardens and a lawn where a huge marquee was set up.

  ‘Poppy Lane is nicer,’ said Ruby suddenly. ‘It’s got heart. This place hasn’t.’

  Vonnie felt her eyes prickle with tears. ‘That’s a lovely thing to say, Ruby,’ she said.

  ‘It’s true,’ Ruby replied, reaching out and putting one small, cool hand over her stepmother’s slender one as it rested on the gearstick.

  ‘It will be better if we can do up your room, though,’ Vonnie added. ‘I know you didn’t mean it about keeping that antique wallpaper, because it didn’t matter to you at the time. Please can we rip it down? It breaks my heart to see it. You deserve something lovely.’

  ‘Butterflies,’ said Ruby. ‘I’d love wallpaper with butterflies on it.’

  Vonnie thought of a chrysalis breaking open to reveal something truly lovely – the way their family had had to crack open in order to be truly whole.

  ‘Butterflies it is,’ she said.

  Fiona stood patiently while Susie hooked up her dress.

  ‘Done?’ she asked.

  Susie clicked the final hook in place.

  ‘Done,’ she said. ‘No danger of you falling out of it now.’

  ‘Who’d be looking even if I did?’ said Fiona, with a hint of gloom.

  Katy, her hair in rollers, her lovely face made up, and dressed in a soft fleecy dressing gown, gave her a cheeky pinch as she walked past.

  ‘My wedding will be full of handsome men, you minx,’ she said. ‘Loads of lovely men.’

  ‘Really?’ said Susie.

  ‘Oh, I have a special one in mind for you,’ Katy told Susie. ‘He’s a friend of Michael’s and he’s lovely. Decent, kind—’

  ‘Probably gay but hasn’t come out, lives with his mother and has his sock drawer colour-coded,’ said Fiona.

  Katy delivered another pinch.

  ‘Ouch. I’ll be the same colour as the dress if you keep this up,’ protested Fiona. ‘I’m just warning her.’

  ‘He’s not gay. He’s been living in Australia for a while and he’s back now,’ Katy said. ‘I’m going to introduce you to him, Susie. You’ll love him. I told him all about you.’

  ‘He’ll run when he hears I’m a mum,’ Susie said.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Katy said triumphantly. ‘He has a son from a previous relationship. Ha!’

  ‘Oh,’ said Susie, pleased.

  ‘Does anyone else want more coffee?’ asked Leila. ‘I’m a bit tired.’

  Susie smiled at her but said nothing.

  Birdie came into the room with Morag, carrying a tray of tea, coffee and sandwiches. Jack, who now adored Morag, followed bearing a tin of small cakes.

  ‘The yellow ones are the nicest,’ he said to his aunt, proffering the tin.

  ‘Should I buy yellow ones like this when you come to stay with me in Dublin?’ Leila asked him.

  ‘Yellow and purple,’ he said, adding conspiratorially: ‘But don’t tell anyone that I like purple ones, OK? It’s not a boy colour.’

  ‘Secret,’ agreed Leila, deciding that she’d mention that there was no such things as boy or girl colours when she had the chance.

  ‘I’ve got the camera,’ said Morag. ‘On the bed, the lot of you, so I can get a photo.’

  They all sat beside each other, with Jack perching half on his mother and half on his aunt, an arm round each one.

  ‘Say cheese,’ said Morag, and Leila, Susie, Katy, Fiona, Jack and Birdie all said cheese.

  The speeches were almost Grace’s undoing. She’d been fine for so much of it. She’d cried of course when Michael and Katy had walked into the marquee to a round of applause; she’d never seen either of them look so gloriously happy. There was no fear for the future for this marriage, no threat of splits or divorces down the road.

  They knew each other so well. Michael, as the son of divorced parents, was not precisely anti-divorce, but he believed marriage was for life. He’d told her that once.

  ‘Mum, I’m not trying to upset you or anything; it’s just that I do want to stay married to Katy for ever. Do you think that’s possible?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ his mother had said fondly. ‘You know each other so well, you’re older than Dad and I were when we got married. Things are different now and you’ve seen where we went wrong. It’s not easy, of course, but I think you’ll manage it.’

  All this flooded into her head now as she watched them, and she had to reach again for the quite sodden hanky in her handbag. Sensibly, she had an entire packet of paper handkerchiefs, but she was beginning to think she’d get through them all.

  The wedding breakfast had been glorious, fun, joyous. People were enjoying themselves, the music was low and beautiful, the marquee exquisitely decorated and the scent of flowers rising up into the ai
r mingled with the perfume of the ladies.

  Many times Grace had looked across at Stephen and caught his eye, and he’d smiled back at her, an incredulous smile that seemed to say, Look – look what we’ve done. We’ve created this amazing young man and he’s getting married today.

  I know, she wanted to beam back.

  And then came the speeches.

  Robbie, Michael’s best man, had judged his speech to perfection. There had been no below-the-belt references or embarrassing revelations. No jokes about bridesmaids or how everyone thought Katy was a fine thing. Instead he had spoken with huge fondness of his great pal, he’d told funny stories that reflected well on Michael, and he’d praised Katy and said she was perfect for Michael.

  ‘She’s also the only person who can get him up in the morning – I should know, I’ve been on holidays with him.’

  He had concluded by praising the bridesmaids, the food, the bride and groom’s parents, everyone he could think of.

  But it had been Michael’s speech that had her fumbling in her bag for her tissues yet again.

  At first he had followed the traditional route, thanking all around and name-checking everyone.

  ‘Everyone who knows us said they could tell we were going to be married from the first day we met,’ he said, looking around at the sea of smiling faces urging him on. ‘They thought we were boring, to be honest.’ His face took on a look of surprise, as if astonished at such a notion. ‘While everyone else was talking about going to parties and meeting complete strangers and having fabulous relationships, there we were, always the two of us together. Well, it might have looked boring – but it wasn’t.’

  He glanced down at Katy, his gaze shot through with so much love that Grace had to hold her breath to stop herself crying. This was her son; this decent, strong, loving, wonderful man was her son. How proud she felt.

  ‘But I knew that what we had was better than what any of them had,’ Michael went on. ‘I had the most wonderful woman in the world, and I knew this from when I was exactly sixteen and three-quarters. That was the day you agreed to go out with me – though your father wasn’t keen, it has to be said.’

  Howard looked delighted at this proof that he had been doing his fatherly duty.

  ‘I’ve never wanted another woman since. There’s never been anyone else for me – how could there be, compared to Katy? She’s beautiful on the outside but she’s even more beautiful on the inside, and that’s what I fell in love with. This woman, who could be strong and feisty, no doubt about it, but loving and kind and good. And she loved me.’

  Grace could barely hear. She felt so emotional, so happy for her darling son. She prayed he’d never know any pain in his life. If only Fiona could find such happiness too.

  She tuned in again.

  ‘That’s what I could never quite understand, that she loved me. And as the years went by, I knew I was the luckiest man in the world. But earlier this year, when we went to Paris, I was still nervous.’

  A few of his friends let out roars and ‘Ah now, c’mon, Michael’ noises.

  ‘No, really,’ he said. ‘I was nervous. I had the ring. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to bring her to the top of the Eiffel Tower and ask her if she would marry me. I wanted it to be memorable. But there was a moment of fear that she might say no.

  ‘I sort of wanted to ask my dad about it, because that’s where he and my mother had got engaged.’

  Grace bit her lip and squeezed her nails into her hand. The tears were going to run down her face now, there was no doubt about it.

  ‘My parents got engaged on the Eiffel Tower. And I want to pay tribute to my mum and dad here, because it’s the example they gave me – the strength of their love, the way they loved us even when they weren’t together any more – that made me what I am today. I saw what family and love meant. Life never stopped them being friends or putting us first or being the most amazing parents ever. Maybe it’s the Eiffel Tower effect.’

  The tears were rolling down Grace’s face now; she couldn’t look at Stephen, she couldn’t look anywhere.

  Robbie leaned over and squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Grace muttered, ‘I’m fine.’

  But she wasn’t. So few people knew about the Eiffel Tower. She and Stephen had had no money in those days, and the flights had nearly bankrupted them. She’d had absolutely no idea of what was going to happen. She could see it all now: the crowds pushing forward, and Stephen, taller and stronger, protecting her against the people in the lift, muttering how they were all intent on being first to see everything.

  ‘And that’s why I wanted to bring Katy there. Because I want her to have love all her life and to have the best of me, and that love is entwined with the Eiffel Tower. She is my heart, my true love, and as all of you know, she’s carrying our little baby right now, which makes me the happiest man on the planet.’

  Grace knew her make-up must be running desperately and she probably looked like some deranged panda with mascara circles down her face, but she didn’t care. She dared a glance over at Stephen, and he was looking at her with something close to anguish.

  Are you all right? his eyes were saying, because Grace could read his face like a book after so many years. She nodded and managed to smile, and turned back to look at her beautiful son.

  She knew it was a tribute to his darling Katy, but her heart felt swollen with love at how much of a tribute it was to her and Stephen too.

  There had been pain and sacrifice, years when Grace had felt alone, but it was worth it to know that Michael had always felt loved the way she had wanted him to.

  When Katy stood and kissed her new husband, everyone cheered and Robbie gave Grace a huge hug.

  ‘Don’t fall over on me now, Mrs R,’ he teased. ‘I’ve got to keep you standing till our dance.’

  ‘I won’t,’ said Grace. ‘I’m just so moved.’

  ‘Ah, weddings,’ Robbie said. ‘Tear-jerkers every time.’

  Dolores loved Devlin.

  She watched Leila dancing with him, saw the way he looked at her as if she were something precious.

  Jack sat on his granny’s lap, shattered and ready to go home soon. Meanwhile, his mother was dancing with a very nice man who apparently also had a little boy who was also into Ben 10. Dolores watched them both.

  ‘That’s it,’ she said happily to a sleepy Jack. ‘The Martin girls will have their rainbow, darling, I promise you. About time too! They deserve it.’

  Howard was a little tipsy. He never really got drunk; he liked to remain in control.

  ‘Control,’ he would inform Birdie in his booming voice, ‘is vitally important in a captain of industry.’

  Birdie waited for him to say it now. They were standing side by side as the lights of the car carrying Katy and Michael faded into the distance. All the twinkling fairy lights in the trees seemed to gild the place so that it really did resemble something out of Disneyland. Disneyland crossed with Alice in Wonderland. The organiser had done a marvellous job, Birdie had to admit. It had been so beautiful – beautiful and precious.

  ‘Back to normality now,’ said Howard, sighing. ‘Oh well, I’m going to go in and have a proper drink.’

  ‘Howard,’ Birdie said, ‘there’s something I need to mention to you.’

  ‘Can’t it wait until morning? I’m exhausted. All this organising and—’

  ‘I know,’ she interrupted him.

  Howard looked surprised. Birdie did not do interrupting.

  ‘I know about you and Nadine. I’m not upset. Well, I was in the beginning, but actually you’ve done me a favour. She’s done me a favour. I’d never have had the courage to leave, or rather to ask you to leave, without Nadine – so do send a kiss from me or something. I’m sure that shouldn’t be too hard.’

  Howard was watching her in utter amazement. His mouth was slack.

  ‘Na-Nadine … what are you talking about?’ he said, some of his old bluster returning.

 
‘I’m talking about your girlfriend, the woman who’s been choosing your clothes for the last few years, the woman you bought the car for, the mews house, the jewels. The house sounds particularly lovely – I did toy with the idea of driving to Dublin to have a look at it, but you know that’s not my sort of thing,’ Birdie said earnestly. ‘I’m not a fighter, not an arguer. I’m a gentle sort of person and I don’t want our divorce to change that. I want to remain me, without any nastiness or viciousness, so let’s try to be kind to each other. The lawyer says I should really clean you out, but that’s not me either, is it?’

  Howard’s face was even slacker.

  ‘Nadine? You’re imagining it, you’re mad. She’s just a friend. I sometimes stay in Dublin near her. Who’s been telling you this?’

  ‘Nobody told me anything, Howard,’ Birdie said. ‘I figured it out. Your American phone. Goodness, Howard, stop denying it. Let’s have a bit of dignity and separate like intelligent adults. You and I aren’t suited. You’re not what I want and I’m certainly not what you want.’

  ‘Who said you’re not what I want?’ demanded Howard, sweat glistening on his brow.

  He tried to pull her away into the house, where there was no chance of anyone overhearing. Gently, Birdie disentangled herself.

  ‘Howard, don’t try and deny this. I know the truth and it’s over. I’ve known for quite some time. I put off saying anything because I didn’t want to ruin Katy and Michael’s day – so let’s not mention this to them if they phone us from the honeymoon. We can tell them when they come back, when they’re full of the excitement of the pregnancy and the honeymoon and being married. I don’t think they’ll be that surprised, to be honest. I’m pretty sure Michael has some idea, and Katy would have found out eventually.’

  ‘Michael knows?’ shrieked Howard.

  ‘He will soon enough, but I reckon he’s had his suspicions. I’ve told Grace, by the way. I needed to confide in someone, and she’s such a good person to talk to about these matters. Look, let’s not argue. I got Morag to make up the bed in the spare room, the one closest to your mother. If you wake up early, you can go in and chat to her. I think we should sell Vineyard Manor. I’d quite like somewhere smaller myself, and of course I’ll be taking Thumper.’

 

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