The Rose Garden

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘Good morning, Molly, ’tis a fierce cold day!’

  She nodded to Dan White, the eighty-nine-year-old former postman, who was visiting his wife Lily’s grave. He came religiously every day.

  Molly turned up to the section where David was buried.

  She stood in the silence, listening to the wind and her own breathing, reading the writing on his headstone, leaving a bunch of bright winter pansies and some heather beside it.

  Beloved. Beloved – her beloved …

  Dan was right: it was cold – bloody freezing. She pulled her quilted North Face jacket tighter around her. She had a ham baking in the oven and when she got home would make some brown bread to serve with smoked salmon when everyone arrived back from the church.

  Despite the cold it was peaceful here, in this place where her beloved, her David lay.

  Chapter 47

  MOLLY HAD PLANNED TO DO A BIT OF TIDYING UP IN THE GARDEN, but it had started to rain earlier and it had got heavier and heavier. Giving up the notion, she was engrossed reading A History of Rose Growing when Trish’s car pulled up outside.

  ‘Come inside out of the wet!’ she urged, opening the back door. ‘I’ve just made a pot of coffee. Is there some problem about the planning for the cottage? I’ve had Paul Sullivan working on repairing the roof all week and I thought that everything had got the go-ahead.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with the cottage, Molly,’ Trish said, sitting down.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘No, I’m not … I’m stressed out about Libby’s wedding!’

  Organizing a wedding was a bit of a marathon for everyone involved, but usually Trish was pretty calm and collected about things.

  ‘How are the plans coming?’ she ventured.

  ‘They’re not – that’s just it. Libby and Brian had put a deposit down on Foyle Castle in Tipperary, but they’ve just been told that the company that owns it has gone bankrupt and it’s had to close down. They have the church booked, the dress, everything practically done for their wedding, but now – nowhere to have a wedding!’

  ‘Oh my God! Trish, I’m so sorry!’

  ‘Larry’s going crazy and Brian’s parents … We are all so upset.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Molly asked, appalled by their predicament.

  ‘That’s the reason I’m here, Molly. I want to ask you something. If the answer is no, that’s absolutely fine – I’ll totally understand, but I promised Libby that I would at least ask you.’

  Molly was intrigued.

  ‘When we were here at Grace’s twenty-first, Cara and I were just saying that this house was the perfect place for a big party or a wedding – and the thing is that we really need to find somewhere urgently … so we were wondering about here …’

  ‘Have Libby’s wedding here?’ she gasped.

  ‘Yes. I know it might sound a bit crazy, but it could work! Drinks and dancing in the orangery and eating in the dining room, like we all did at the party … It was such an amazing night!’

  ‘But you’d never fit everyone …’

  ‘Libby can scale things down – she’ll have to.’

  ‘Haven’t you tried the hotels in Kilkenny or the golf club? Or that new wedding barn place in Waterford?’

  ‘Molly – I wouldn’t ask you, but we’ve tried absolutely everywhere and everyone is totally booked out for at least a year.’

  Molly didn’t know what to say.

  ‘We’d have it at home, but our own house is too small,’ she sighed. ‘The thing is that you are selling Mossbawn – which I know is awful for you, but maybe we could rent the house out for the day exactly the same as we were going to do with the castle?’

  ‘But Mossbawn is just a house. There are no big kitchens or proper bedrooms or facilities.’

  ‘It’s a lovely old country house and it was perfect for Grace’s twenty-first party. The food was amazing and with a big crowd it all worked so well,’ Trish reminded her. ‘We’ve been at so many lovely parties and dinners here over the years. For a wedding we can hire a caterer and people can stay in the hotel up the road or in some of the local B and Bs.’

  Molly was totally flummoxed. This was certainly not what she had expected.

  ‘Libby has always loved this house, and it’s only a few minutes from home. Please, Molly, will you think about it? Please?’

  Molly took a slow sip of coffee. She’d known Libby since she was a little girl; her brother Rory had started school the same day as Emma. Trish’s kids and hers had played here together over the years and visited frequently.

  ‘I don’t want to pressure you, Molly, but please will you have a proper think about it? For all you know, the new owners could turn it into a hotel or a restaurant!’

  ‘I will,’ she promised as they said goodbye.

  Molly was sitting in the kitchen, her mind racing, when Kim came in. She told her about her conversation with Trish.

  ‘I’m in a quandary – I don’t know what to say to her,’ she sighed.

  Kim curled up on the couch in the kitchen, her feet tucked under her.

  ‘Maybe it could work, Auntie Molly, honestly. Nobody wants to get married in the big function room of a hotel any more – they want something different, like that castle Libby had booked. I’ve been to a few weddings in country houses. Okay, some have been very fancy with golf clubs and spas and bars and restaurants, but my friend Thea got married in a lovely old house in Wicklow last year. They had to hire chairs and tables and plates and glasses and cutlery and lights and everything, but it was a really fun wedding. If I ever get married that’s the kind of wedding I’d want – somewhere like here, with the garden and the orangery and the patio terrace.’

  ‘So you think I should say yes?’

  ‘I think you should talk to Grace and Emma first and see how they feel about it.’

  Kim offered to make them both some dinner while Molly went and made some phone calls.

  Grace had no problem about having the wedding in the house, while Emma worried about what would happen if something went wrong. What if they wrecked the place or there was an accident?

  ‘They are our friends!’ Molly laughed. ‘I’m sure they would take care of everything.’

  Still, what Emma had said did make her think, and if she was to let Libby have her wedding here maybe there should be some kind of extra insurance.

  ‘Well?’ asked Kim as she passed her a plate of risotto.

  ‘The girls are okay about it, but Emma suggested I take out extra insurance. She’s always so sensible, like her dad! Also, I don’t really want Trish and Libby employing any other caterer except Gina. She did Grace’s party and the funeral, and she’s used to the way this kitchen and the house work. And besides, I can trust her to run things well.’

  ‘Well, maybe you should talk to Gina before you give them your answer,’ Kim said, passing her some Parmesan cheese.

  ‘I’ll phone her after dinner,’ she promised. ‘But otherwise it’s fine.’

  Molly was very glad to have Kim around; she was so easy to talk to and great company. She made living in the house bearable and had even become a bit of a gardener too. They often spent hours talking about the house and the garden, watching programmes about old houses and history on TV. Fascinated by the history of Mossbawn, Kim was enjoying designing its website.

  Molly had been telling Bernadette Armstrong about what her niece was doing and they’d asked her to help them create a website for the Kilfinn Inn. Hopefully some more work would turn up for her, as her temping job with Dr Jim had come to an end – though she still worked in the surgery two days a week as Frances had decided it was high time she took things a little bit easier. Dr Jim had asked Kim to put up a very basic website for the surgery and had already implemented some of the changes she had introduced to the practice.

  Molly knew that her niece loved village life, but couldn’t help but worry secretly about her, at twenty-nine, shutting herself away from all her friends and living
down here in the countryside.

  Chapter 48

  GINA HAD BEEN RUN OFF HER FEET ALL WEEK. THANK HEAVEN SHE had Inga to give her a hand.

  It was as if everyone in Kilfinn and the district wanted to come in and say goodbye to Cassidy’s Café. She’d had to take lunch bookings and for the past three days had actually done two sittings, as if it was a fancy restaurant she was running. The Bridge Club, the Book Club, the Anglers, the Kilfinn Walkers Group – even the Kilfinn Traders Group had booked two tables.

  ‘Everyone come here, it’s so busy … why are you closing down?’ puzzled Inga as she carried more plates and bowls into the kitchen and reset the dishwasher again.

  ‘People just want to say goodbye,’ Gina tried to explain. ‘It’s the end of an era.’

  The café had never looked so good, all decorated for Christmas with tea lights on every table, and she had pushed herself on the menu, offering a choice of three different mains. The café was full of chat and people leaving in cards and flowers for her and Norah. She was overwhelmed with their kindness and support, and filled with a huge sense of regret that she’d been unable to save the café.

  Bernadette Armstrong had called in last week to say that she was free to take any kitchen equipment or china or cutlery she needed.

  ‘What do I want with mixing bowls and food processors, or that hulking big cooker and water heater?’ she said, urging Gina to take them. ‘You might use them in your business, Gina; otherwise they’ll end up in a skip.’

  Gina had talked to Paul, who had agreed they could store the stuff in their large garage.

  ‘Maybe you’ll be able to use it,’ he said encouragingly.

  The last few times Gina had called to see Norah in the nursing home she could tell that, even though she was heartbroken about the café, she’d begun to accept that she would never work there again and would remain living and being cared for at Beech Hill.

  ‘Would you like to come for a coffee and see the place, Norah, before it closes?’ she asked gently. ‘Everyone has been asking for you.’

  ‘I’d like to see it,’ she nodded. So Gina had discussed it with the matron and Dr Jim and it was arranged that Norah would come and say a last farewell on Christmas Eve. Word must have got out, because Gina couldn’t budge a soul from the place as they sat lingering over coffees and cakes and the mince pies that she passed around freely. Every table was full as Margaret Mullen, one of the staff nurses, pulled up at the front door in her car with Norah.

  Norah had had her hair washed and set so it was like a fluffy white halo around her head, and she was wearing a new, soft-pink cardigan and her trademark grey skirt. With assistance from the nurse and Kim O’Reilly, who was having lunch with her aunt and cousins, Norah Cassidy was almost lifted into the window seat, where she could hold court and say hello to everyone.

  Gina was kept busy, but she could see that Norah was relishing all the attention. She had devoted her life to this place and was an important part of Kilfinn’s community and history. Father Darragh, the jovial parish priest, had come along and was giving her a big hug.

  ‘Isn’t it grand to see you sitting where you should be, Norah, letting the young ones wait on you for a change?’

  Norah held his hand.

  ‘What are we all going to do without her?’ he lamented. ‘There will never be the like of Norah’s apple tart or scones seen again in the village.’

  The older woman’s eyes were shining as everyone agreed. Gina escaped to the kitchen where she could control her own emotions.

  As it began to get dark outside, the lights flickering on in the street, Margaret decided it was time to bring Norah back to the nursing home as she was beginning to tire. Everyone stood up, clapping and cheering as she was helped out to the car. It was only when she had left that Gina realized that Norah hadn’t once asked about the upstairs flat where she had lived all her life.

  All the shops were shutting up, closing for the holidays. Gina packed everything away and gave Inga a box full of cakes and biscuits, ham and pudding to take home to her family for Christmas.

  She was doing a last check when Paul and the boys arrived.

  ‘We said we’d come down to see how you are getting on,’ said Paul, slipping his arms around her in the empty café.

  ‘Just about to lock up,’ she said, ‘now all the customers are finally gone.’

  ‘We could see from outside how busy it was!’ said Conor.

  ‘Mammy, it was even busier than when we had lunch yesterday!’ added Aidan.

  ‘Lads, help your mam with those boxes!’ ordered Paul. ‘Put them out in the car for her.’

  ‘I can’t believe that it’s finally closing,’ Gina said, suddenly overwhelmed and tearful as she began to switch off the lights for the last time.

  ‘It’s time to come home, Gina love,’ Paul said, taking her hand. ‘It seems to me that you’ve been cooking for the whole of Kilfinn and most of the district. You are coming home now, putting your feet up at the fire and resting. The boys and I are making curry for dinner tonight and tomorrow the men in the family are tackling the turkey!’

  ‘The turkey!’ Gina laughed.

  ‘Aye – the turkey!’

  ‘Dad says it’s just like cooking a big chicken,’ said Aidan knowledgeably.

  ‘And I’m making the stuffing!’ insisted Conor.

  Gina yawned. She was tired, exhausted, but she was so glad that she had managed to get Norah to come along to say goodbye to her café. For no matter how much she had planned and hoped that she would take it over, she’d accepted today that it would always be Norah’s café.

  Chapter 49

  KIM HAD REALLY ENJOYED SPENDING CHRISTMAS IN THE COUNTRY, as Liz and Joe were heading to Belfast to see his family, and her dad and Carole were going to the Canaries for some winter sunshine. Spending Christmas at Mossbawn had made a huge change from the constant rounds of drinking and parties and long lunches back in Dublin, and those crazy days when she had gone mad spending on extravagant gifts and costly clothes and outfits to wear over the festive season. She certainly didn’t miss having her credit card and wallet taking a huge hammering as in other years.

  Everything here was so relaxed and there had been plenty to do with her cousins and Molly. On Christmas Eve they’d walked to midnight mass in the village and joined in the singing with the Kilfinn choir. On Christmas Day they’d gone to her uncle’s grave and then for drinks at Cara and Tim’s before coming home to relax and sit around the table eating Christmas dinner. She had talked to her dad in Gran Canaria and her brother Mike in Canada, and Liz had phoned her on Christmas night. Kim gathered the kids had Joe’s mum, dad and family run ragged.

  ‘His mum had to go to bed for a rest after we’d eaten,’ whispered Liz, ‘and Ava knocked a jug of cream all over the kitchen floor, and his uncle Harry nearly broke his neck when he came in the kitchen to get another mince pie.’

  Kim had to stop herself laughing. They were a handful, as she could testify having spent Christmas dinner with them the past three years!

  Evie and Alex had phoned her, wondering how she was surviving.

  ‘It’s been lovely, really lovely, here in Kilfinn,’ she enthused. ‘I’ve had a great Christmas.’

  ‘Kim, tell me you’re not staying in the country for New Year!’ teased Alex.

  ‘You have to come to Dublin for New Year!’ insisted Evie. ‘Everyone is meeting up and going to the Chatham for dinner, then we’ll all go on to Everleigh, that new nightclub. I’ve booked a seat for you. The dinner is only sixty-five euro each and it’s going to be a brilliant night.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can go.’ Kim hesitated.

  She’d spent so many New Years in the city in various nightclubs, pretending to enjoy the night, surrounded by strangers, and then with Gareth, frantically pretending despite the crowds and exorbitant costs that they were having one of the best nights ever.

  She had always found it a bit of a let-down and really had no intention of
putting herself through another evening of that again.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve already organized to do something else,’ she lied. ‘But I hope you all have a great night and I’ll see you soon.’

  Putting down the phone, she could see Grace watching her.

  ‘So you’re staying in Kilfinn for New Year?’

  ‘Yeah, looks like it.’

  ‘We usually go to the Kilfinn Inn. Nearly the whole village is there. It’s a bit of a mad night, with music and dancing. I know Emma’s going to Roundstone with Jake, but it will still be fun.’

  ‘Sounds perfect.’

  ‘Great!’ said Grace.

  Despite their efforts to persuade her, Molly had refused to join them.

  ‘I’d far prefer to sit here and enjoy my wine and watch Jools’ Annual Hootenanny on the TV,’ she insisted. ‘I’m not in the form for a packed noisy pub.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Kim, worried. ‘I could stay with you.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Molly ordered. ‘I’m perfectly fine here on my own. You lot go off and enjoy yourselves seeing in the New Year!’

  Walking down to the main street with her cousin, she could hear the music and there already was a huge crowd gathered outside the village pub.

  ‘Hey, Grace, how are you?’ called a tall blonde girl.

  ‘Fine, Melissa! How are you and Ritchie doing?’

  ‘We’re just home for the week to see the folks, then we are heading over to London for the weekend. One of Ritchie’s friends is getting married!’

  Grace introduced them and Kim soon found herself chatting to a huge group of her friends.

  ‘This is my cousin, Kim. She’s staying with us for the moment.’

  ‘You used to stay at Mossbawn when you were younger!’ exclaimed Roisin, a small, skinny girl with glasses. ‘I remember we went fishing in your aunt and uncle’s boat on the river and you caught a fish and you got such a shock when you held it that you nearly fell overboard.’