“Prosecco time!” Angelo declared, raising up the bottle.
“I don’t mean to be a party-pooper,” said Poppy, “but don’t you have to be at the airport, Helen?”
“I do, which reminds me, how do I look?” She stood up and smoothed down her black silk dress. “I want sexy, without tarty. I want ‘I’d love to rip your clothes off but you could still bring me home to meet your mother’ – how’d I do?” She did a little twirl.
“Helen, you look amazing, you’ve no idea – now go!”
Christmas Eve and Dublin airport was eerily quiet. Most people were already with their families, with the people they loved.
The last few flights were landing. Helen looked at the arrivals board and searched for London Heathrow. The magic words “just arrived” blinked up.
A giant snowman lit up the arrivals area and automatically sang ‘Merry Christmas’, as people walked by. It distracted her for a few moments – she took her eye off the arrivals door.
“Hey.” The man’s voice came from behind her.
She swung around. “Hey, yourself.”
Jack Taylor stood before her, as he’d done over a year ago at this very airport.
But this time was different. Without hesitation, he pulled her to him and he kissed her.
“I was worried your flight would get snowbound or something.” Helen felt childlike giggles bubbling up inside of her.
“There’s barely an inch on the ground,” Jack laughed, his arms still around her.
“You’re in Ireland now – that’s enough to halt the country – get used to it!” She touched his face.
“Trust me, I intend to.” He kissed her again.
This time the kiss lingered.
After a moment they pulled away slightly and looked into each other’s eyes. They didn’t speak. Jack kissed Helen again.
And again.
And again.
Chapter 71
“Exactly how many are coming to your midnight party, Helen?” Jack asked as he threw an extra log on the fire in Helen’s living room before going back into the kitchen.
“Just family really. It’s something we did when I was a kid – start Christmas after Midnight Mass with a slap-up Irish breakfast. I thought it’d be nice to rekindle the tradition.” Helen smiled as she kissed him on the forehead. She wanted to be alone with Jack, but they could wait a few days longer.
“It looks like you’re feeding an army.” Jack scooped up a handful of peanuts from a bowl Helen had set out “in case people needed a few nibbles first”.
Angelo rang the doorbell with the tip of his Roman nose. He tried to balance a pile of sparkling wrapped presents under his chin. Two gift bags swung from each of his hands.
Helen opened the door.
“Let me help you, Angelo. That’s what we call a lazy man’s load!” She reached out to help him.
“It’s okay – piano, piano!” He concentrated, as though he was walking a tightrope.
“Piano piano?” Helen asked.
Poppy and Lily were just behind him. They carried casserole dishes.
“‘It means ‘slowly, slowly’. Is Daniel here?” Lily looked around.
“He’s in the kitchen – reckons students should be in charge of cocktails – he’s mixing them now,” Helen told her.
Lily checked her make-up in a mirror and tossed her hair. “Score,” she said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
Helen pressed play on Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas”. Lily reappeared and rapidly pressed eject. Replacing Bing with Slade, who Lily reckoned were goodies albeit they were oldies. She promptly disappeared again once the music was sorted, to rejoin Daniel.
“So, have you something to say, Helen?” Poppy asked when they’d a moment alone while Angelo and Jack finished setting the table.
“Such as?” Helen feigned innocence.
“Such as, ‘Thank you, Poppy, for giving the Universe a helping hand and ringing the amazing Jack Taylor on my behalf’.” Poppy raised her chin – she loved it when she was right.
“Thank you, Cupid, for completely ignoring my wishes, and ringing Jack behind my back.” Helen saluted her.
“He’d already given that Amy the boot – she sounds like the female version of Rob if you ask me. Hey – there’s a match made in hell – we should introduce them!”
“I think we’re busy enough with Samara, we don’t need to add a dating agency to the mix.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Remember Keith, the geography professor we met in Vietnam? I contacted him some time after the accident to explain why I hadn’t called?”
Helen nodded.
“Well, he emailed me a few days ago. He’s getting married on New Year’s Eve to a girl he met at a beer stall in Hanoi!”
“No way! Is she a local?”
“That’s the gas part of it. She’s a maths lecturer from Coventry. He goes all the way to Asia and meets his future wife who happens to live less than a hundred miles from his home town!”
“You love happy endings, don’t you, Pops?”
The doorbell rang again, “Lord, it’s like Heuston Station here tonight,” Helen said, slightly flustered.
“I’ll get it. And by the way, yes, I do love a happy ending – doesn’t everyone?” Poppy grinned.
Helen took her father’s urn and placed it on the table, knife and fork either side. Lily thought it gross but Daniel declared it was cool. Helen asked him what he meant by “cool” and to her amazement it meant cool. A total miracle – teen language she understood! Lily was also quick to come around when Daniel pointed out you don’t get to sit next to the ashes of a War Hero every day, so it was actually rather cool in a morbid sort of way, which made it all the better.
“Will everyone sit down, it’s getting cold!” Helen shouted. “Cyril, will you pour the drinks?”
“Certainly, dear, but I thought I was needed in the kitchen?” Cyril cocked his thumb to the closed door. He looked unsure where to put himself. “I don’t have to sit next to the urn, do I, Helen? It’s just I reckon I’m close enough to being in one myself – I don’t want to tempt fate by sitting next to one.” He smiled weakly.
“Stop talking nonsense. Sit where you’re comfortable – just don’t forget to mix the drinks!” Helen said, winking at him. “Mum, are you coming in or what?”
“Keep your hair on, love, you’ll wake the Baby Jesus himself with all that shouting.” Mary Devine pushed through the kitchen door, with the aid of her grandson.
“Don’t be playing the invalid card with me! Get in here, we’re all waiting.” Helen put a hand on her hip, but the curve of her smile gave her true feelings away.
“Will you stop fussing? Honest to God, wait until my legs are back to full strength, young lady, I’ll kick your backside!” Mary took her place at the top of the table. “Now, I’d like to say Grace.”
Lily and Daniel rolled their eyes, and Poppy gave them a look that said: Don’t you dare.
“The fact that I’m here at all is a miracle, the fact that we’re all here together is a blessing. I got a second chance – now I get to know my grandson and watch my virtual granddaughter grow into a beautiful woman – especially now we can see her pretty face and those dreadful black clothes are gone. And Poppy – my virtual daughter – if it wasn’t for you, these two might never have known what they nearly walked away from.” Mary raised her glass.
Helen and Jack smiled at each other.
“Cyril, to you, my love, for showing me that it’s never too late to find love. To my beautiful Helen, who is terribly bossy, but she never once gave up on me. Thanks to you they didn’t pull the plug on me.” Mary blessed herself again.
“Welcome, Jack, thank you for spending Thanksgiving with your own family, so you could come to us, your new Irish family, for Christmas. Angelo, thank you too, for being the wonderful man you are and it’s great to know we’ve a decent cup of coffee to look forward to after the feast – salute!”
A cheer
went up.
“One last thing,” Mary continued.
A collective groan went around the table.
“Thank you, God, the Universe, spirit, for the abundant gifts you’ve bestowed upon us, Amen. Let’s eat!”
Lily wiped away a tear. She and her mum really did have family after all.
Later Helen sat with Mary and JD by the fire, while the others cleared the table and washed the dishes. Helen rubbed the dog’s head, which lay in her lap.
“You know, I’ve just realised something Mum. JD, Jack Daniels, he’s named after the two men in my life. The men I love. What are the chances of that?” JD looked up at Helen and licked her hand. “Thanks be to God I didn’t call you Diet Coke, hey, JD!”
Mary smiled at her. “I’ve made a decision, Helen, if you’re comfortable with it. I’d like to scatter your dad’s ashes. It’s time. He’ll always be alive in our hearts, let’s let his ashes go free.”
“Are you sure, Mum, is that what you want?”
“It is. I’ll keep a few and you can mix them with mine when I’m gone. But life is for living and your father wouldn’t want to be cooped up in a jar. What was I thinking! Let him fly on the wind, as he always dreamed.”
Mary Devine was back.
Two days after Christmas, Helen and Jack set off for Wicklow. They were alone. It was to mark the first proper night of their new life together.
“It’s really beautiful around here,” Jack said, taking in the scenery around him.
Helen had butterflies in her stomach. So much had happened, she’d come so far. Now, a man whom she’d met by coincidence on the other side of the world was moving his life to Ireland, to be with her. She pulled the car into the driveway of Powerscourt. The white wedding-cake building gleamed majestically in the winter sun.
“This looks amazing. I thought you weren’t into decadence any more, preferred the simple things in life,” Jack teased.
“This is simple,” Helen grinned. “Simply divine, that is.”
The lobby was adorned with crystal and brass. Bird of Paradise flowers stood tall in vases set upon marble-topped tables. In the centre hung a prism-catching chandelier, shaped like a hot air balloon.
Helen signed the register as Jack looked around, soaking it all in. He nudged Helen.
“Is that the guy from TV? The one you’re always raving about?”
“Chef Ramsay, sir.” The front-desk manager smiled. “He’s in-house tonight, cooking for his only Irish restaurant – here at the hotel – you’re in for a treat. Have a wonderful stay in Powerscourt.” He handed them the key-card.
“Helen, what are the chances of that! Gordon Ramsay, cooking, the night we check in. It’s destiny!” Jack grinned.
They got into the lift. Helen hadn’t said anything.
“Hold that, would you?” Gordon Ramsay bounced towards the lift door.
“Hello,” he smiled at Helen and Jack.
“Hello,” Helen said, looking at the floor numbers flash as the lift ascended.
Jack started to say something, but Helen elbowed him.
A ping, the door slid open, Gordon Ramsay got out. The doors closed behind him.
“Why didn’t you talk to him? I wanted to get an autograph for you – ask him what he’d recommend on tonight’s menu.” Jack looked puzzled – would he ever understand women? Andromeda, Jack.
Helen looked at him, holding his gaze. She subtly licked her lips. “It’s not food I want, Jack.”
Jack realised, no matter where she had come from one thing was for sure. The best thing in his life was – Simply Devine.
THE END.
The Lingerie Designer Page 39