‘No need for you to be stressed today, though.’
‘Not at all.’
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘It’s just that given that the weather is bad, I think we should set off earlier than we originally planned,’ she told him.
He groaned and released her from his arms. ‘I don’t want to be faffing around in that draughty old castle for ages.’
‘You won’t be,’ she promised. ‘We’ll get there half an hour or so before the ceremony, no more than that.’
‘Aren’t we going to Gran and Gramps’ first?’ asked Daisy.
‘No,’ said Roisin as she put the plates on the table. ‘We’re going to go straight to the castle. Which won’t be a bit draughty.’ She shot an exasperated look at Paul.
‘It’s very exciting, isn’t it?’ Poppy rubbed her hands together. ‘This will be my first wedding. It’s good practice for me.’
‘Practice?’ Paul looked at his daughter enquiringly.
‘For my own,’ said Poppy. ‘I need to check out dresses and stuff.’
‘I thought you didn’t like dresses.’
‘Oh Dad. You’re so lame. Of course I do.’
‘Right.’ Paul scratched his head, then turned his attention to his breakfast. The female mind continued to mystify him. Up until the end of the summer Poppy had been a complete tomboy who only wore dresses when she was forced into them by Roisin. Now she was planning her wedding. And, he suddenly realised, she’d become a lot more girlie over the last few weeks. She didn’t slide down the banisters any more. He recalled her having an argument with Daisy over nail varnish. Thank God for Dougie, he said to himself. Otherwise I’d be completely outnumbered by the female psyche.
‘Tamarin will be here shortly to do our hair,’ Roisin told the girls. ‘So as soon as you’ve finished your brekkie, hop upstairs and have your showers. You can use my special shampoo if you like.’
‘That’s very nice of you, Mum,’ said Daisy. ‘But I have the one Summer gave me.’
‘So you do,’ said Roisin.
‘I’ll use your shampoo, Mum,’ said Poppy.
‘Me too.’ Dougie spoke through a mouthful of fried egg.
Roisin’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Despite Paul’s assertion that there was no need for her to be stressed, she was tense anyway. But that was because today’s events were completely outside her control. The wedding invitation, while not unexpected, had come much sooner than she’d imagined. And when she’d asked if there was anything she could do to ensure that the day went as smoothly as possible, she’d been told that this was one day on which she would simply be a guest. That she was to enjoy herself without worrying. That everything was already in hand.
Maybe it was, she conceded as she rinsed plates under the tap before stacking them in the dishwasher. But it felt weird not to have any input into something as momentous as this when all her life she’d been the one in charge.
‘All you have to do is see that we’re suited and booted and ready to go at the right time.’ Paul put milk and butter in the fridge beside her. ‘Enjoy being one of the crowd for a change.’
‘How did you know what I was thinking?’ she asked.
‘We’ve been married fifteen years,’ he reminded her as he closed the fridge door. ‘And guess what – given that we can’t count Pascal and Jenny as a married couple, we’re the ones who’ve been married the longest in the family. We’re the ones with the most experience of marriage!’
She turned to look at him. ‘I’ve never thought about that before.’
‘I think about it a lot,’ he said.
‘You do?’
‘Yes. And you know what I think?’
‘What?’
‘That I was lucky the day I married you.’
‘Paul.’ She felt a lump in her throat. ‘That’s so … so …’
‘Unlike me?’
‘That too,’ she said. ‘But romantic is what I was going to say.’
‘I can manage romance from time to time,’ he whispered, and kissed her.
‘Oh, gross.’ Daisy got up from the table, followed by her brother and sister. But Roisin didn’t notice. She was caught up in the fact that she’d been lucky in love. Lucky with her choice of husband. And even though she sometimes felt that marriage was a damn sight harder than she’d ever thought it could be, she knew that she’d always love Paul. He was her soulmate. It was funny that it had taken today to remind her of that.
Chapter 36
Camilla laughed with delight when she saw the snow. Because Denmark was surrounded by sea, the snowfall there wasn’t usually as heavy as in other Nordic countries, and she always felt childishly excited by it. But, like everyone else, she was hoping that it wouldn’t come down any heavier and disrupt people’s travel plans. She and Davey had arrived the day before and driven down in crisp bright sunshine. Bright sunshine would probably be better than snow, she conceded, but it would be magical if it started to fall properly after everybody had arrived. She’d visited the castle when she and Davey had returned to Ireland a month after his parents’ party and she’d been enchanted by it, remarking that it was an ideal wedding location. Davey had looked enquiringly at her and they’d taken photos so that they could think about it when they got back to Denmark.
‘What’s so funny?’ Davey walked into the bedroom and she told him about the snow.
‘It’s more like sleet,’ he said. ‘Fortunately. Can you imagine if people were snowed in and couldn’t get here? After everything?’
Camilla told him about her desire for it to snow when they were all in the castle.
‘And then everyone would definitely get stuck here. We’re crap at snow,’ said Davey.
‘Would that be such a bad thing?’ she asked. ‘If we got stuck?’
‘Are you kidding me? After the last time?’
‘Maybe some things that were problems then could be resolved today.’
‘Ever the optimist.’
‘I can’t believe that Steffie and your parents haven’t spoken since,’ said Camilla.
‘According to Mum, they’ve exchanged the occasional email and text,’ Davey said. ‘But Steffie hasn’t been to Aranbeg and they haven’t come up to Dublin. Which is tough on Mum, because she used to meet Steffie whenever she came to town to do some shopping. Apparently Steffie doesn’t want to see her, and she doesn’t want to turn up uninvited for fear of making things worse.’
‘They will move on,’ said Camilla confidently.
‘I hope so. But it seems the Sheehans aren’t as good as your family in the moving-on department,’ Davey said.
‘You care about them a lot, don’t you?’
Davey shrugged. ‘This thing with Steffie is a complete disaster. I feel sorry for her but I feel just as sorry for Mum.’
‘Steffie hasn’t done anything about tracing her father, though, has she?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Then she should get over it.’ Camilla’s voice was firm. ‘There is no point in revelling in misery.’
‘And that’s why I love you, Camilla Rasmussen,’ said Davey as he pulled her into his arms. ‘You get to the nub of things every single time.’
Camilla smiled but she didn’t reply. She was too busy kissing him.
Sarah had called Lucinda to ask her what she was wearing to the wedding. When Lucinda replied that she hadn’t yet decided, Sarah sent her a photo of the suit she’d bought – a biscuit-coloured skirt and jacket trimmed with dark brown fur – and told her to steer well clear of anything even remotely similar. Lucinda sent back a smiley face in return and, a week or so later, a picture of the blue velvet dress she was going to wear. Sarah was congratulating herself on her own choice today as she watched the snow spiral dizzily from the sky. A winter wedding was a nice idea, she thought, but it was a bit of a fashion nightmare. There were plenty of stunning cocktail dresses in the shops to cater for the Christmas party season, but none of them were really wed
ding material, what with their low-cut necklines and thigh-high splits, which didn’t work for someone her age. Especially when she had to take into account the time they’d be spending in that freezing wreck of a castle. Jenny had assured her that the conservation committee allowed portable heaters, and that it would be plenty warm enough, but she’d said that before temperatures had plunged to their current below-zero levels. Sarah was thankful that the ceremony wouldn’t take too long.
She was standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, admiring her reflection, when the doorbell rang. She hurried down the stairs to open it. Colette was standing on the step, melting snowflakes glittering on the collar of her white coat.
‘Come in, come in,’ said Sarah. ‘I was just about to put the kettle on. Would you like something?’
‘Coffee would be nice,’ said Colette as she removed the coat and hung it over the banister.
‘Oh Colette!’ Sarah stared at her daughter. ‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I mean it,’ said Sarah. ‘Your hair. That dress. And you look so … so fit all of a sudden.’
‘I’m going to the gym,’ said Colette. ‘It’s paying off.’
‘It’s not the gym,’ said Sarah. ‘It’s you. You’re glowing.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Is it a man? Are you engaged again?’
Colette laughed. ‘I do manage to live my life without getting engaged every few months,’ she said. ‘So no, it’s not that. It’s just …’ She hesitated, uncertain how to continue.
‘Now that I think about it, you’ve been a lot brighter in yourself for a while now,’ said Sarah. ‘Ever since Jenny and Pascal’s party, in fact.’
‘It was a bit of a catalyst for me,’ agreed Colette.
‘You were brilliant that day,’ Sarah said. ‘But I never expected you to blossom like this. It’s definitely not a man?’
‘Not everything has to be about men!’ Colette was both amused and exasperated by her mother’s comments. But she appreciated the compliments Sarah was paying her. She knew that she looked good. Her hair was now a burnished copper, the closest to her natural colour it had been in years, and she’d had it cut into a shoulder-length bob that emphasised her heart-shaped face. She’d given up on the rockabilly fashion too and had chosen a more elegant style for today – a well-fitted purple dress that suited her colouring. But it wasn’t her changed appearance that was the most important thing for Colette. It was the sense of peace and purpose she’d found in herself. Since the night of driving around with Davey Sheehan, and the announcement of his engagement to Camilla Rasmussen, she’d stopped thinking about him whenever she was alone. She’d stopped wondering, stopped imagining, stopped caring. She’d worried a little that it would suddenly start to matter again, but so far it hadn’t. She was, of course, slightly concerned about today and how she’d react to seeing him and Camilla together. But she was pretty hopeful that it wouldn’t affect her, that he was part of her past and she’d continue moving on. She was banking on it. It would be awful to relapse into the unhappy person she’d been for so many years. Not when everything was going so well for her.
She’d been promoted at work. Her immediate boss had been astonished by the change in her, and how she’d become so much easier to work with. Her changed attitude had meant a change in the way the team worked too, and productivity had increased. When Colette had approached Mike and told him that she was applying for a more senior position, he’d been happy to recommend her. And the feedback had been that she’d done an excellent interview. In the past, she’d been let down by her combative attitude.
Colette felt that she was in a good place. And she was more content with her life than she ever remembered.
‘Have you been talking to Steffie?’ asked Sarah as she handed her daughter a mug of coffee.
Colette shook her head. ‘Not recently.’
‘I wonder how she’s feeling.’ Sarah sat at the table with a coffee of her own.
‘I’m sure she’s fine.’
‘But she and Jenny still haven’t resolved their differences.’
‘It’s more than just differences,’ Colette pointed out. ‘It’s a kind of fundamental thing for Steffie.’
‘If I could get over everything your aunt did to me—’
‘Mum! It’s totally different.’
‘Hmm.’
‘It is,’ repeated Colette. ‘And I really don’t want to hear you yakking on all day about how she ruined your life. It was bad enough back in August.’
‘I don’t yak.’
Colette grinned. ‘No?’
‘Well, maybe a little,’ admitted Sarah.
‘And you’re not to get upset with Aunt Lucinda either,’ said Colette.
‘Why on earth would I be upset with Lucinda?’ Sarah’s voice was one of injured innocence.
‘Bringing a boyfriend?’
‘That doesn’t upset me.’
‘Doesn’t it?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘I’m happy for her.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ Sarah drained her cup. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s stop with the gas-bagging and hit the road. We can’t be late. Especially if it starts to snow.’
‘We won’t be,’ promised Colette. ‘And you already know that I’m an expert at driving in crappy weather.’
Chapter 37
In the end, Steffie travelled to Wexford with Roisin and her family. Paul had phoned her when the snow flurries began to get heavier, saying that it was ridiculous that she should travel on her own when there was plenty of room in their SUV. Which would certainly be a safer and more comfortable drive than the Citroën if the weather worsened.
‘Just because I went off the road in the rain doesn’t mean I’ll do it again,’ Steffie protested.
‘It’s not because of that,’ Paul told her. ‘It makes sense for you to come with us. And Roisin would feel happier.’
Because that way she knows I’ll definitely be there, thought Steffie. She didn’t say that out loud.
‘Besides,’ Paul added, ‘it’s more fun for us all to travel together.’
Which it sort of was, Steffie agreed, as she sat in the back of the car with her nieces and nephew. She was stunned at how grown-up Daisy looked in her chocolate-coloured dress covered by a lace skirt decorated with tiny sequinned stars. Her hair was messily arranged on her head and held in place by gold clips, and if Steffie hadn’t known better, she’d have thought her niece was at least sixteen. It was a shock to realise that the little girl she’d babysat, who’d wrapped her arms around her in delight when she’d arrived at the house, who’d confided her secret dreams (of being an acrobat, a tennis star, a surfer, a hairdresser, a model), would soon be making real decisions about her life. And that although people like Steffie would be a part of it, she wouldn’t be regarded as the fount of all wisdom that Daisy had believed she was before. It must be hard, Steffie thought, for Roisin to watch her daughter grow up and grow away, even though she’d surely be proud of her too. And she wondered if that was how Jenny had felt as her three children had grown. If she had looked at Steffie and been awed by her and scared for her in equal measure, as Steffie now was for Daisy.
She breathed deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. She was anxious about seeing her parents for the first time since the end of the summer. Although part of the reason for not seeing her mother was the anger that still bubbled within her over the secrets that Jenny had kept, another part of it had been the fact that she’d been extremely busy. The busyness had been down to the sudden explosion of work that had come her way a couple of days after the disappointment of not getting the rebranding contract. Sometimes, even looking at her healthier bank balance and knowing how much work she was doing, she still couldn’t quite believe her luck.
She’d been sitting at the kitchen table a week after the party, unable to even feign interest in anything, when her friend Juliette had dropped by to talk about the second illustrated book
. Steffie had all but forgotten about it (truthfully she hadn’t been entirely convinced it was going to happen), but Juliette showed her the contract, bubbling with excitement and saying that the publishers could do way more with the story of the princess in the lake than she’d been able to do by herself. Steffie’s headache had disappeared and she’d been infected by her friend’s enthusiasm, so that they spent a happy couple of hours talking about the story and discussing ideas for illustrations. By the time Juliette left, Steffie had become fired up with creative thoughts, not only about the book, but also about a couple of the smaller projects she was supposed to be working on but for which she simply hadn’t been able to find inspiration. She was totally caught up in a stationery design when her phone rang. She picked it up without even noticing who was calling.
‘Hi, Steffie, Gerald Morton again,’ said the voice at the other end.
‘Hello, Gerald.’ He’d rejected her branding project, so she wondered what he could possibly have to say to her now.
‘Sorry I didn’t get to speak to you before,’ he said. ‘I hate leaving messages that sound like bad news.’
‘I was disappointed not to get the contract,’ she admitted.
‘That’s what I’m calling about now,’ said Gerald. ‘The company we’re going with has a strong message for us and we think it suits our ethos most closely. But as I said in my message, we really liked your work. And we have something else in mind that we’d like you to be involved in. It’s an internal development plan. We think you’d be the ideal person to help with some of the material.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes,’ said Gerald. ‘So I was wondering if you’d like to drop by our offices this week and we can discuss it.’
She told herself that it was more than likely a minor project and not to get too excited. But Gerald’s company was a pres-tigious one, and even something small for them would be fantastic to have on her resumé. Trying not to sound too eager, she suggested the following morning for their meeting. He told her that suited him perfectly. When she ended the call, she realised that she was literally shaking with anticipation.
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