He was in a right pickle now. Suzy had a new suitor and he was stuck with Alexandra. His whole life had gone belly-up. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
‘Of course I’m going to London for Christmas, Chris. I always do. I need a break. I’m damned if I’m going to stay here in Dublin and have little ninnies pointing their fingers at me as if I was some horned Jezebel or something.’ Alexandra lay sprawled on the sofa sipping gin.
‘But what about me?’ Chris demanded. ‘I don’t want to stay here by myself.’
‘Darling, we all have our problems, you’ll just have to cope.’
‘But how the hell can you afford to go to London? You haven’t got a job.’
‘Thanks to your spiteful cow of a wife. Look, Chris, I’m not staying here. I’ve had enough of Dublin and its petty busybody gossips to last me a lifetime. I’m going to London for Christmas. It’s arranged. And then I’m going to come back and get a job. By God, I’ll show those bastards that I’m the best in the business. So for once, my egotistical darling, this is not about your feelings and needs, it’s about mine and if you don’t like it, tough!’ Alexandra glared at him.
‘You call me egotistical. You could give master classes. Women! You’re all the bloody same,’ Chris snarled as he slammed the door after him and went to bed.
Alexandra watched him go. She was really getting fed up with him. Why she’d ever been mad enough to start a fling with him, she’d never understand. If only she didn’t need his rent money. God, she was really looking forward to London. She’d decided to stick to her original plans even though it would eat into her nest-egg. She couldn’t face the idea of having all the movers and shakers around town knowing that she’d been given the boot from Stuart and Stuart’s. If only she could get a backer to set her up in her own company. But who?
Maybe she’d find someone in London. She was going to go to as many smart parties as she possibly could while she was there. Fortunately her friends were well connected. It was too good a chance to miss. Chris could go stuff himself. He wasn’t being a bit supportive. She should have known better than to expect anything more of him. Suzy was welcome to him. Alexandra had other concerns. She had her future to worry about.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Welcome back, Sheila. We certainly weren’t expecting to see you at the meeting tonight. Are you sure you’re up to it?’ Bridget Curran greeted Sheila warmly.
‘I’ve been away too long, Bridget. I feel very bad about it. But I’m back now, thank God.’ Sheila took her place at the top of the table. In the president’s chair.
‘You gave us an awful fright,’ Molly Ryan remarked.
‘I gave myself an awful fright,’ Sheila retorted crisply. It was nice to be back in her rightful position. Just as it had been very nice last night to sleep in her own comfortable bed with Mick’s arm around her. There really was no place like home.
She noted that Bonnie Daly looked quite miffed to see her. It gave her immense satisfaction to be back in control of the guild. Madam Bonnie could take a back seat again.
‘And how are the ribs and the wrist and the bruises?’ Bridget inquired kindly.
‘Well, as you can see, my wrist is still bandaged for support, you know. The ribs are healing slowly but surely. I stayed with Emma and Vincent for a few days to recuperate. They all wanted me to stay with them of course. I’ve been blessed with good children, but with Ellen and Miriam tied up with the café, I decided to go to Vincent and Emma. And I was treated like a queen.’ This was said loudly enough for Bonnie to hear. Bonnie’s children were not the support they should be to her in her old age.
‘Was Tilly telling you that some of us thought it might be a good idea to have our guild lunch in Ellen’s café this year, rather than in the Glenree Arms?’ said Bridget. ‘It would be a nice gesture of goodwill.’
‘It’s very kind of you. I know they’re run off their feet.’ Sheila wasn’t going to have the guild thinking that Ellen was on her bended knees waiting for their custom. ‘We can certainly discuss it at the meeting and if it’s a majority decision I can ask Ellen to book us in.’
‘I don’t think it’s actually on the agenda for discussion tonight. Just let me check,’ Bonnie piped up sweetly. As secretary, she controlled the agenda. She scanned her notepad. ‘No, no, we have five items for discussion. The Christmas lunch isn’t one of them.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Bonnie! If we don’t decide where to go tonight it will be too late. And when, may I ask, have we ever put it officially on the agenda? Stop your nonsense,’ Bridget said briskly.
‘Well now, Bridget, I don’t care for your tone. We have to keep some control over what’s discussed or, as you well know, we’d get nothing done. And if you don’t like the way I’m running the meetings, you go for secretary next year,’ Bonnie bristled.
Sheila’s lips thinned. Who did Bonnie Daly think she was, to be talking about running the meetings? As secretary, she was answerable to the president, Sheila. It was the president who ran the whole organisation. Responsibility for running the guild rested on her capable shoulders and no one else’s, for this term.
‘I think, Madam Secretary, I’ll call this meeting to order. Time is getting on. We’ll discuss the matter of our Christmas lunch after all official business has been discussed. If you’d kindly say the opening prayer and read out last week’s minutes.’ Sheila gave Bonnie her sweetest smile.
Bonnie, raging, smiled back, equally insincerely. ‘Certainly, Madam President. Our prayers for your full recovery must have been granted. Obviously Saint Peter felt heaven wasn’t ready for you yet. He blessed us with your presence instead.’
‘Indeed he did, Bonnie. What a kind thing to say.’ Sheila pretended that the sly and very sarcastic dig had gone completely over her head. ‘Now let’s get down to business or, as you’d say yourself, we’ll get nothing done.’
That will teach you to try and get the better of me, she thought grimly as Bonnie, utterly discomfited, stood up and called on the Lord to bless the Women’s Guild of Glenree.
‘Ellen, you know full well I’d be very happy to come over to you for Christmas. But you know your mother. She’s funny about these things,’ Mick explained.
Ellen polished the candlestick she was holding with extra vigour. She’d slipped over after work to clean the silver and the brasses and to dust the ornaments that lay in the big glass-fronted unit in Sheila’s parlour. Miriam was minding Stephanie for her. She hadn’t realised that her mother had gone to a meeting.
‘But sure, Ellen, I can look after everything here. Don’t you worry. I know you’d like to spend Christmas in your own place,’ Mick added kindly.
‘Dad! I’m not leaving you to cook a Christmas dinner on your own. Stephanie and I’ll come over on Christmas Eve and stay until the day after Stephen’s Day.’
‘I’d be lost without you, Ellen.’ Mick smiled at her.
‘And I’d be lost without you.’ She patted her father companionably on the arm. ‘I was surprised Mam went off to the meeting. I didn’t think she’d be up to it.’
‘I’m delighted she went.’ Mick puffed contentedly on his pipe. ‘If your mother didn’t go to her meetings then I’d be worried. Seemingly Bonnie was getting notions above her station. Your mother’ll be nipping that firmly in the bud.’
Ellen grinned. ‘I’d say it will be a lively meeting. There’ll be skin and hair flying – in the nicest possible way of course. Mother, being president, will win hands down.’
‘Oh, Bonnie won’t go down without a fight. I’ll be getting an earful tonight no doubt.’ Mick chuckled. ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll stick the kettle on and we’ll have a nice cup of tea for ourselves.’
‘Good thinking,’ Ellen approved as she gave the candlestick a final rub. If there was one thing she hated, it was doing the brasses and silverware. But her mother wasn’t able to manage and Ellen knew she liked to give the house a thorough cleaning before Christmas. She’d do the net curt
ains for her tomorrow, and that would be that much done.
She was tired though. When she was finished in Sheila’s she had a pile of table napkins to iron at home and a batch of stuffing to prepare for the stuffed rashers, one of the most popular dishes on their menu. Her own flat would have to do with a lick and a polish for Christmas, she thought ruefully. Still, she was looking forward to the weekend. Doug was bringing a Christmas tree and she and Stephanie were going to help decorate it. Stephanie was bursting with anticipation.
The days were really flying. Running a deli was hard work. But very satisfying. She and Miriam and Denise got on extremely well. They were a good team.
An hour later, the glass doors of the china cabinet sparkled, displaying an array of gleaming silver, brasses and china. Even Sheila wouldn’t be able to find fault with them.
Ellen took the net curtains down from the windows and folded them neatly. She could wash them first thing in the morning, before The Deli opened, and pop over with them in the afternoon. She went from room to room collecting the curtains. Fortunately Sheila, being the extremely efficient housewife that she was, had a small stitch of different-coloured thread sewn on to the top corner of each curtain, so there’d be no mix-up. She must do the same with her own sometime, Ellen decided.
‘Right, Dad! I’m off. What time are you collecting Mam?’
‘I’ll give her another half-hour. You know the way they all like to chat after the business is over.’ Mick lifted his head from the basin of cranberries he was preparing. Sheila liked to make her own cranberry sauce for Christmas. Because of her wrist, he’d decided to get them ready as a little surprise for her.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’ Ellen gave him a kiss. Sometimes she wondered if Sheila realised how lucky she was to have a husband like Mick. Out of the blue, Chris came to mind. Was he up to his eyes in Christmas preparations at home with his children? She couldn’t quite imagine him decorating a Christmas tree or hanging up chains and balloons. When they’d been together he rarely spoke about his children. Sometimes she sensed that it wouldn’t have mattered to him at all if he’d never had any. One thing was for sure, he’d never be caught dead at a kitchen sink preparing cranberries to help his wife.
But Doug would. She smiled to herself. There were a lot of similarities between Doug and Mick. It was funny, she’d never realised that until now. ‘See ya, Dad.’
She looked at her father, standing in his slippers, his pipe sticking out of the corner of his old cardigan pocket as he topped and tailed the cranberries, and felt a huge rush of affection for him. His quiet, unwavering support had been the one constant in her life. God had blessed her with the father she’d been given. She sent up a little prayer of thanks and entreaty that he’d have many happy fruitful years ahead of him. If anything ever happened to Mick, she’d be lost.
Katherine neatly wrapped shiny Santa paper around the box containing Stephanie’s tea set. She took a strip of sellotape and sealed the sharply pointed ends. Katherine took pride in wrapping her parcels. Untidy wrapping was anathema to her. Her presents were noted for crisp expensive wrapping-paper and starched ribbons. Not for her the wafer-thin paper sold in sheets by the street sellers.
She surveyed the large colourful parcel with pleasure. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she’d done the right thing, buying her newly acquired granddaughter a Christmas present. Stephanie’s father might have disowned her, her grandmother wouldn’t.
She hoped that Ellen wouldn’t mind. She would perfectly understand if the younger woman wanted to keep her distance. But somehow, after that brief but highly charged meeting at the christening, Katherine felt at ease with Ellen. She didn’t think her gesture would be rejected. She lifted up the phone and dialled Emma’s number.
‘Hello?’ Her niece’s pert tones made Katherine smile. Emma was such a consequence.
‘Emma,’ she said briskly. ‘Aunt Katherine. I need Ellen Munroe’s telephone number. I have a Christmas present for Stephanie. I’d like to make the arrangements to give it to her.’
‘Oh!’ Katherine heard the surprise in Emma’s voice. Let Emma and anyone else be surprised, shocked or dismayed, if they cared to. This was something she had to do.
‘Just a minute, Aunt Katherine.’ Katherine could hear the flicking of pages. Emma called out the number. Katherine took it down in her elegant neat script.
‘Thank you, dear. I hope you’re all keeping well. No doubt we’ll see you over the Christmas with the children. I’ll be having a family get-together as usual. I’ll be in touch to make arrangements.’
‘Right. Thanks. Thanks very much, Aunt Katherine.’ Emma was polite. Katherine smiled wryly as she hung up. That had certainly taken the wind out of her niece’s sails. But she didn’t care any more. She’d spent far too long hiding behind a façade. From now on she was going to do what felt right for her and if people didn’t like it that was their problem. Katherine squared her shoulders. It was a good feeling to think that she was coming to a stage in her life when she didn’t care what people thought. She’d lived under that cloud for so long, burying all her resentment and anger at Jeffrey’s womanising. Holding her head up among friends and acquaintances, pretending to the world that everything was all right. Denying her true feelings. She might have protected Jeffrey and the family name but she’d been very cruel to herself, she thought fiercely.
No more. Her feelings were as important as anyone else’s. It had been a long hard lesson. But she was learning. And somehow she knew that her little grandchild was going to be very important to her. They would teach each other.
‘Hello?’ Ellen tried to stifle a yawn. It was after ten. She’d already spoken to Doug. She wondered who this could be.
‘Ellen. It’s Katherine Wallace. I hope you don’t think I’m taking a liberty. I phoned Emma for your number. My dear, I bought a little gift for Stephanie for Christmas. I was hoping you might come over for tea some afternoon over Christmas. Of course if you would prefer not to, I quite understand.’
‘Oh!’ Ellen’s eyes widened.
‘Well, maybe you might prefer to keep your distance.’ Katherine sounded surprisingly disappointed.
‘Not at all, Mrs Wallace. It’s very kind of you. I know Stephanie would be delighted.’
‘Would she?’ The older woman sounded as though she was smiling. Ellen’s heart softened. Poor Katherine. She’d had her troubles too. It was Ellen’s impression from their brief encounter that she was quite lonely, despite the busy social life she led. It was thoughtful of her to buy a present for Stephanie. She wasn’t going to deprive Chris’s mother of the pleasure of giving a present.
‘She’s actually making a card for you in school at the moment. They’re all doing them for their parents and grandparents.’
‘How lovely.’ Katherine sounded genuinely pleased. ‘Well, instead of posting it, get her to hand-deliver it. Shall I phone next week to make arrangements?’
‘That would be really nice, Mrs Wallace. If you’re sure you want to.’
‘I am, dear. Very sure. What’s her favourite food?’
Ellen laughed. ‘Sausage and chips.’
‘Sausage and chips it is, then. I’d rather fancy them myself. It’s a long time since I cooked chips. I’ll look forward to it. I’d like to give you my number.’
‘I have a pen.’ Ellen took the number down.
‘Thank you, Ellen. You’re very kind.’
‘You’re welcome, Mrs Wallace,’ Ellen said warmly. ‘Take care.’ She replaced the receiver, smiling. What a nice thing to happen! Stephanie would be thrilled. She’d gone to a lot of trouble making her Christmas cards and she’d confided that the one she was making for ‘the new nannie’ had to be extra-special because it was the first card she’d ever done for her. She was one up on Rebecca and Connie because they only had one nana and now she had two.
Katherine had seemed to genuinely want to have her and Stephanie visit. Ellen didn’t mind. Having met her at the christeni
ng, Ellen was not in awe of her. Ironic though it was, they had much in common. It would be good for Stephanie to have some contact with her father’s side of the family. It might help to lessen the sense of abandonment she’d feel when she was older. When she realised that her father had let her down.
Perhaps she might have some contact with Chris, through Katherine. If that was what she wanted. Ellen picked up the iron and pressed it against a creased napkin. Who would have thought that Chris’s mother would want to stay in contact? What would Chris think of that? Ellen wondered curiously. Or would he ever know?
‘You’ve invited them to visit? And Ellen agreed to come?’ Chris was stunned. He’d called in to his mother’s to explain that Suzy was taking the children away for Christmas, so if she wanted to see them, she’d need to arrange it soon. He’d idly picked up a large parcel that was lying on the sofa and seen that it was addressed to Stephanie. Then Katherine had dropped her bombshell. She’d invited Ellen and Stephanie to tea.
‘She was rather sweet about it, actually, Christopher,’ Katherine remarked as she snipped the end of a length of ribbon.
‘But why on earth do you want to bring them here?’ Chris muttered.
Katherine fixed her son with a piercing stare. ‘The child is my granddaughter. I want to get to know her. I won’t turn my back on her, like you did.’
‘You should let sleeping dogs lie,’ he argued.
‘I did that for far too long, Christopher. And it made me a very unhappy woman,’ his mother retorted. ‘This time I’m doing what I want to do. I think Stephanie and I will both benefit from getting to know each other.’
‘Don’t you think it might be awkward for me?’ Chris was most perturbed to think that his feelings hadn’t even been considered.
‘I might have had second thoughts if you were still with Suzy. And I would have been more concerned about her feelings than yours, quite frankly. But the truth is, I don’t care any more if it’s awkward for you. You have to handle that. And besides it’s not as though I’m inviting you to tea. It’s just Stephanie, Ellen and myself. So really I can’t see why you’re making all this fuss.’
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