by Anita Notaro
‘OK, OK, I get the picture.’ I tried to laugh away my worries. ‘You’re right, of course. I’ll come down. It makes sense, I don’t know what I was thinking. Blame it on lack of sleep. I’m worse than any new mother,’ I told her. ‘I’ll take the early afternoon train on Christmas Eve.’
‘That’s a good idea, I don’t want you to drive. We can pick you up.’
‘No worries, I’ll take a taxi.’
‘I wouldn’t hear of it.’ She was all business. ‘And Lily . . .’ She paused.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m very proud of you, you know that, don’t you?’
I felt tears at the back of my eyes. ‘Yes,’ I muttered.
‘You’re a remarkable young woman and you’ve been magnificent since . . . the accident.’
‘Thanks.’ I got rid of her before I bawled.
Brian Daly offered to drive me to Cork but I refused. I was afraid I’d say something nasty about his brother. The truth was I still couldn’t get my head around the Kevin Daly scenario. The more I thought about it, the more unreal it seemed. Alison loved men and enjoyed their company but I just couldn’t imagine her and him together. And worrying about what it might mean for me and Charlie was driving me nuts.
Eventually I decided I had to tell someone. I needed a dose of reality. Orla wasn’t the right one: we were living in each other’s pockets as it was; besides, I still didn’t feel right talking to her about Kevin after what I’d done, so I emailed Sally in Sydney, who soon put me straight.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
What the hell do you mean, creepy Kevin might be Charlie’s father? Who is this bloke? All I can remember is that you stole him off Orla (only joking!) Do I need to come home? (Actually I can’t cause I’m broke, but I am saving. I thought I was making the journey to see your new business venture, now it might be to sort you and all these men out – I’d like that, come to think of it.)
Love,
S xx
PS Does Orla know? Can I tell her? I’m a bit jealous of you two sharing all this. No I’m not, I’m just a bit drunk. Hic. PPS Was the sex magic with creepy Kev?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Just a quickie – I’m exhausted. I’ll phone you later in the week but pleeeease don’t mention Kevin and me to Orla – I feel guilty enough already.
L xx
PS Did I tell you about Daniel? He’s cool but I don’t really know him. Anyway, I’ve just discovered he has a ‘friend’ coming home for Christmas and staying with him. Why are all the nice men taken??
PPS Richard’s getting married on New Year’s Eve, but I’ve finally grown up where he’s concerned. (I think!)
We had several telephone conversations after that where she was drunk and I was drunk with tiredness, but talking to her really helped.
Daniel’s friend arriving put paid to our meetings and I missed him. I guess I’d got used to him being around for a beer or a walk or just to chat to over a coffee in the mornings. He was the only uncomplicated person in my life at the moment and he seemed never to judge me, or anyone else for that matter.
He’d been in great form when he appeared in the café for lunch with Zanna earlier in the week.
‘I thought you told me her name was Lucy?’ I asked, confused.
‘No, Lucy was my fiancée,’ he said. ‘Keep up.’
‘I’m too tired.’
‘It’ll all be worth it when you see your profits.’ He grinned and took the tray over to where his friend was waiting. They looked very easy together. I knew I was jealous and I’d say I wasn’t the only one. Daniel got noticed everywhere he went and I was willing to bet that lots of mothers of fine strapping Wicklow lassies were disappointed when Zanna appeared on the scene. All that land helped, of course. He was seen as quite a catch round these parts.
I was still worried about James. I’d never met a man like James in my life. I thought they only existed in films. Which was why I felt terribly guilty about him and Tamsin. I should have said no the minute she suggested adopting Charlie but I’d been so traumatized that I wasn’t thinking straight, and then seeing them together had been pretty stressful too. I’d phoned James a couple of times since, just to make sure they were coping. He was incredibly kind and assured me they were.
Richard phoned on the morning of Christmas Eve.
‘Are you OK?’
‘So tired I nearly fell asleep on top of the treacle tarts this morning. You?’
‘Messy that, very nasty. Yep, I’m wrecked, too. If one more customer complains I’ll throw them out.’ He laughed. ‘Is it me or is everyone grumpy this year?’
‘It’s not you,’ I told him.
‘Will you come out with me for a drink before the wedding?’
‘Another stag, you mean?’
‘No, just you and me.’
I was getting tired of this. It was a conversation we’d been having on and off since a date had been set for the wedding. He was always hinting at things between us, yet he never came straight out and said anything. Not that I wanted him to. I’d begun to understand him in the last while. Richard was a classic case of wanting to have your cake and eat it. I’d actually begun to feel a teensy bit sorry for Daisy – not easy. She was a cool customer, very aloof, hard to warm to.
‘Richard Kearney, you’re getting married in a week’s time. Don’t you think you should be concentrating on your wife-to-be?’
‘She’s gone off and left me,’ he whined, sounding like a spoilt nine-year-old.
I laughed at him and I could tell he was miffed.
Daniel put his head into the café early on Christmas Eve.
‘Hi there!’ He looked so alive, he must have been out in the fresh air for hours. No wonder oxygen facials were the latest beauty must-have. ‘Got any breakfast for a starving man?’
‘You smell of heather.’ I sniffed in his general direction. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Out walking the course. We’ve major work starting in the New Year so I’m trying to get on top of it. As it is, Zanna’s keeping me up half the night, so I’m a bit of a zombie most days.’
‘Where is she today?’ This Zanna was beginning to get on my wick.
‘Gone into Waterford with my mother to do some last-minute shopping. Speaking of which, I’m heading to Dublin to do some myself. Do you need a lift to catch the Cork train, by any chance?’
‘Really?’ I could hardly believe my luck. ‘It’s such a pain to have to go to Dublin in order to get to Cork, but there you go. If you could drop me anywhere near Hueston Station it would be brilliant.’
‘No worries, I’m going out to Chapelizod to collect some stuff for my mum, so it’s not out of my way at all. What time?’
‘I’d need to be there any time around two, so I suppose we’d need to leave here around twelve thirty in case the traffic is mad. Does that suit?’
‘Yep, I told my guy I’d ring him once I got to Dublin. Otherwise, my time’s my own. The shops in Dublin never close apparently.’ He winked. ‘How Ireland’s changed.’
‘Daniel Williams, I think I want to have your babies.’ The lack of sleep was making me say weird things. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m hallucinating,’ I told him honestly. ‘It’s just that I’ve got so many packages I’d need a truck anyway, so your big jeep thing would be fantastic. Aunt Milly’s been giving me chores to do all week. I had to bribe a customer to go to Smyths Toys in Dublin yesterday for me.’
‘Can I do anything else?’ He really was a dote.
‘A lift to the train would make my year,’ I told him.
I fussed about for the rest of the morning and Daniel appeared bang on twelve thirty. Orla, Naomi and Violet whooshed me out the door and promised to lock up later and leave the place tidy. We were closing shortly anyway. We’d had a little present-giving session earlier and I’d handed them all their bonuses – presents really;
we’d only been open a few weeks. It gave me such a thrill to be able to do it. I hoped Ali was up there somewhere looking down at me and feeling proud.
‘So, how’s it all going?’ I asked Daniel as soon as we’d set off up the N11. ‘Between you and Zanna, I mean?’ I still wasn’t convinced they were just friends.
‘Great, yeah, she’s a gas ticket.’ He laughed, giving nothing away. ‘I don’t think she knows quite what to make of this country, though – not to mention my mother, who’s treating her like royalty. So how about you?’ he asked. ‘I feel as if we haven’t talked in ages. Are you OK?’
‘Wrecked,’ I told him truthfully, ‘but I can’t wait to see Charlie again. I really miss him.’
‘Missing’s good,’ he said softly and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
‘Yeah, it is,’ I told him, dying to feel those chubby little arms around me again. ‘So, what are you doing tonight? Will Christmas Eve in Wicklow town be a riot?’
‘I’m meeting a couple of mates. And then I promised I’d bring Zanna over to Redcross, where they have some traditional music. Tourists, you know.’ He shook his head. ‘How about you?’
‘Reading a bedtime story to a three-year-old, I imagine, and having a sherry with Aunt Milly.’ I grinned. ‘And I can’t think of anything nicer.’
‘You’re a right raver.’ He winked at me and my stomach lurched. Get a grip, I told myself. You’ve definitely been working too hard.
‘By the way, I think I may have a house for you,’ he said casually.
‘What?’ This time my heart did a major somersault and it was nothing to do with chemistry. ‘Tell me quick. We’re getting near to Dublin.’
‘We have a house – it’s nothing special, mind you – on the edge of our land. We’ve had a tenant living in it for the last ten years but he died suddenly. Heart attack, fifty-nine.’ He shook his head. ‘Tragedy.’
‘And . . .?’ I hoped I didn’t sound too grabbing. It was awful that the poor man had died but my own heart wasn’t doing so well since he’d mentioned a house. I needed to know more, and fast. This could be the answer to all my prayers.
‘And . . . my mother and I were talking about it last night. She thinks we should sell it.’
‘Oh my God. Where is it?’
‘Just outside Brittas Bay – on the coast road to Arklow. But,’ he held up his hand, ‘don’t get too excited until you’ve seen it. It’s a very basic, modern-ish bungalow. No redeeming features. It’s definitely not the cute little cottage you were looking for.’
‘What’s the view like?’
‘I think you might like the view.’ He grinned at me.
‘How much?’ I was trying to get to the catch, because there simply had to be one. This was too good to be true. I’d become a slave to myhome.ie since he’d told me about it, as well as all of the property supplements – but each time I’d enquired about a house the guide price had been a joke, even though interest rates were rising across Europe and the boom was over, according to the economists. I’d seen no evidence of a slump or even a levelling-off of prices in Wicklow, especially. All I’d heard were stories of sellers shouting ‘sucker’ as they shot off to the bank with a wodge of money in their fists.
‘We haven’t put a figure on it yet.’ Daniel must have noticed my look of dread. ‘But don’t worry,’ he said quickly. ‘We won’t fall out over it.’
I sat in silence for a few moments as I tried to take in the fact that my search just might be over. ‘Oh my God,’ I said when eventually I couldn’t contain myself any longer. We’d arrived at the station and I hopped out and ran round to his side and practically dragged him out by the scruff of the neck to give him a hug. ‘Can I tell my aunt? And Charlie?’ I asked as I danced him round in the freezing cold.
‘I guess so.’
‘Thank you.’ I was suffocating him, I could tell. He slowly unwound my arms from around his neck. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ I kissed him then, full on the lips, without thinking about it at all. ‘You have just given me the best present ever, Daniel Williams. I am so glad you came into my life.’
‘Come on, there’s your train.’ He laughed as we ran to the platform.
‘Maybe Ali sent you,’ I told him as we clattered along with bags and boxes weighing us down. ‘Maybe it was meant to be.’
‘You were managing fine on your own,’ he smiled as I boarded. ‘Happy Christmas, Lily,’ he yelled as I hung out the window and blew kisses at him.
‘I love you.’ I grinned but the wind carried it away, which was just as well because I was feeling slightly delirious when I said it.
When I finally lost sight of him he was still laughing as he waved me off.
43
LILY
EACH TIME I saw him it seemed he took another bit of my heart and tore it. This evening a head of corkscrew curls that had grown out of nowhere hurled itself at me and I found myself staring into Ali’s eyes. He’d changed so much.
‘Mammy, mammy, mammy.’ His screams brought smiles to many of the weary travellers as they rushed past and almost smothered us both.
‘Who’re you?’ I asked him.
‘Charlie,’ he grinned.
‘You’re not Charlie,’ I said.
‘I am,’ he roared.
‘Aunt Milly, where’s Charlie?’ I looked everywhere but at him while I blinked a few times and swallowed hard.
‘Here, I’m here.’ He was wrapped around my legs.
‘You’re not my Charlie.’ I looked down at him. ‘My Charlie is small and has short hair.’
‘I am,’ he screamed. ‘It’s me, Charlie.’
‘Are you sure? Let me look at you again.’ I bent down. ‘Well, so it is, you are my Charlie after all.’ He almost knocked me over with his hug.
‘Have you got my present?’ he wanted to know then, wriggling out of my arms as quickly as he’d come in.
‘You’ll just have to wait and see,’ I told him and stood up.
‘Hi, love, you must be exhausted.’ Aunt Milly gave me a bear hug. ‘Let me take your bags.’
‘Thanks, that would be great.’ I grinned. ‘After all, they’re mostly yours anyway.’
‘Sorry about all that.’ She laughed. ‘I’ll explain later.’
‘Carry me, Lily.’ Charlie didn’t want to be left out.
‘You’re too big to carry,’ I told him. ‘Hold my hand instead.’
‘OK,’ he accepted. ‘I’m big,’ he told my aunt importantly.
He talked all the way home, and once we got to the house I was able to have a good look at him.
‘You’re so grown up,’ I told him.
‘I’m a big boy,’ he said proudly.
‘Such a big boy.’ I kissed him and laughed again at all his curls.
‘You and me and Mammy.’ He pointed as he took my hand and brought me to the mantelpiece where a picture of Alison and me with Charlie as a baby stood, both of us relaxed and smiling.
‘Where did you get this?’ I looked at it and then at my aunt. ‘It wasn’t here any other time I’ve been.’
‘Alison sent it to me. I kept it . . . upstairs, in case it would upset you. But he keeps bringing it everywhere with him so I’ve lost track of it.’ She smiled at Charlie. ‘It’s his favourite.’
‘Well, we’ll have to get a new one of the two of us with Aunt Milly. Would you like that?’
‘No,’ he said adamantly.
‘But we can still keep this one, of course.’ I’d noticed his face had clouded over.
‘That’s grand.’ He sounded just like my aunt as he toddled off, leaving us in stitches.
‘The old range is hanging in there.’ I was still smiling as I warmed myself up against it.
‘Still going strong, thank God. Dinner’s in the bottom.’ Aunt Milly was all business. ‘Now, you sit down and I’ll dish it up. Homemade beef and vegetable pie OK?’
‘With your own pastry?’
She nodded.
‘And
fluffy mash?’ I teased. She’d been trying to persuade me to put it on the menu in Wicklow.
‘If this doesn’t convince you nothing will.’ She had the table set and the fire stacked up. ‘Would you like a glass of wine, love? I got some in specially.’
‘Gosh, that’s posh, but no thanks, I’d be asleep in my dinner,’ I told her. ‘But definitely tomorrow.’
‘Lily, come to the tree.’ Charlie was back and had me by the hand again. I let him lead me into the front room. Memories of me and Alison playing in this very room, breaking ornaments and trying to glue them back together, hiding from the adults, eating biscuits when we weren’t supposed to, all came tumbling back again, only this time they seemed sharper than ever.
‘Lily, please don’t cry. It’s OK.’ Ali dried my eyes with the corner of her skirt.
‘I want a bike. You said it would happen if I was good and I’ve been very good. Why is Santa so mean?’ I wailed.
‘Santa might have left it in Aunt Milly’s. We’ll ring her later and check, OK? Now, say nothing to Father for the moment. We don’t want to spoil the day, do we?’
‘I suppose.’
‘And you know Aunt Milly will have lots of surprises under the tree for us anyway, so be a good girl now.’
‘I can’t wait to go to Milly’s house. It’s always warm and it smells of sausages and gravy.’
‘This is mine.’ Charlie rattling a big box, just as I used to do, brought me back.
‘From who?’ I asked. ‘Santa hasn’t come yet.’
‘Tonight.’ He ran over and stared at the chimney. ‘Hi, Santa,’ he yelled and ran away again. ‘This is from Thomas.’ He pointed to the box.
‘Who’s Thomas?’ I asked him.
‘Thomas and Molly and Jack and Anna,’ he counted on one hand. ‘Three.’
‘Four, actually. Are they your friends?’
‘Bestest friends.’ He was off again, back to the kitchen this time. ‘Santa’s my friend too,’ he told me over his shoulder.
‘You’re a clever boy, having Santa as your friend.’ I laughed at his cheek.
‘I was just thinking about the year you bought me a bike, remember?’ I asked my aunt later.