by Anita Notaro
‘I do indeed. I’ve never seen anyone so excited.’
‘Had Alison anything to do with it?’
‘Aye, she rang me on Christmas morning and begged me to get you one. I got it cheap in the sales just in time for your visit.’
The emotion of it all finally got to me and I started to cry softly. ‘I want her with us this Christmas. I’d give anything to have her back.’
‘I know you would, love, I know.’ She held me just like my sister used to.
‘Why was my father so mean to us?’ I asked her. Being here brought back so many memories of difficult Christmases. ‘Why didn’t he just love us? We were good kids, weren’t we?’
‘Yes, you were. And I’m not going to defend him. All I know is that your mother said he was always afraid of letting anyone get too close. She managed to, just barely. And then she died, and I think he retreated further and the two of you just reminded him of her all the time . . .’
‘But was that so bad? He loved her, didn’t he?’
‘Aye, he did in his own way, but he blamed her too, for dying and leaving him to look after you both.’
‘And now it’s just me, and I have all this money – his money – and I’m going to spend every penny of it on Charlie, except I’ll give some of it to help other kids who aren’t loved,’ I said and the tears helped wash some of my bitterness away, at last.
‘You’ve come so far, love.’ My aunt tilted up my chin. ‘Out of this awful tragedy you’ve grown up.’
‘I suppose,’ I admitted, knowing it was true. I hardly recognized the old me any more. ‘I often wonder how I wasted so much time going nowhere.’ I smiled through the tears.
By ten o’clock we were all in bed. I’d given Charlie a bath and we sang his favourite song, ‘Jingle Bells’, as we splashed about covered in suds. It was the most I’d done for him in ages and I thoroughly enjoyed it and his happiness helped restore mine. I was sleeping in his room and after I’d tucked him in and helped clear up, I returned to find him thrashing about and calling out ‘Rudolph’ and ‘Prancer’ in his sleep, a mass of limbs and curls. I settled him, cleaned my teeth and lay awake listening to him snoring and wondering what the future held for both of us. My prayers that night were for a long and healthy life for the two of us in our little house in Wicklow, with regular visits from Milly.
Next morning was hectic. Charlie woke me from a dead sleep at six thirty – later than usual, according to Aunt Milly. He didn’t really understand about Santa but his face was a picture when he discovered the carrot half eaten and the juice glass empty. I saw my aunt was close to tears and I hugged her and thanked her as I too watched his eyes light up when he discovered the shiny red bus and the train set. He was happier than I’d ever have believed possible a few months ago. For some reason I thought of James and Tamsin then, and afterwards, when we went to mass in the tiny church I’d explored as a child, I lit a candle for both of them. Everyone stopped us on the way in and I was glad I’d worn my new coat and boots and some people called me Alison and didn’t notice their mistake.
‘It’s OK,’ I assured my aunt, who was worried that I’d get upset. ‘Life moves on, people forget, I know that.’
Charlie ran off to play with Thomas and the gang and Aunt Milly and I sang hymns and then went for strong tea and cake laced with porter in the convent next door with the nuns and Father Bertie. The smell of polish and soda bread remained and the women still glided around effortlessly and hadn’t aged at all, it seemed.
The day flew by and the house was filled with neighbours and friends, most of whom called to thank Aunt Milly for some small kindness – and have a proper look at me, I suspected. Chocolates and puddings were exchanged and I poured sweet sherry and bottles of frothy stout and I could see my aunt was in her element. She beamed at me and looked so proud of us both as she introduced me to the parents of Charlie’s friends. I whizzed around fetching ashtrays and adding logs to the already blazing fire and opening biscuit tins that contained slabs of richly scented cakes groaning with fruit, all to try and help the woman who had given so much to me these past few months. And everyone said it was lovely to see me after all these years and wasn’t I the lucky girl owning my own home in Dublin and having a café in cosmopolitan Wicklow. It was small town rural Ireland at its very best.
Our days were taken up with walks and visits to friends and we even springcleaned the house in December, which gave my aunt a boost. I told her more about Daniel’s cottage as we sat dozing by the fire one night. It was our first real chat because life had been so full over the days of Christmas. We were eating the last of the pudding and drinking gallons of tea. We agreed that Charlie should move as soon as the house was habitable and I knew she had very mixed feelings about him going.
‘It’s the right thing, though. I know that.’ She smiled but her lined face was sad for a split second. ‘For you both.’ She patted my knee. ‘Although there’s no hurry, you know that, love, don’t you?’
‘That’s what you always say.’ I smiled back at her. ‘Will you come and visit us often? In fact will you come and stay for a while at the beginning?’ She nodded happily and I admitted that I was a bit scared of having him, in case I did anything wrong. ‘I’m not as good as you are with children. I wasn’t even very good as one,’ I told her and meant it, but for the first time I was confident that what I lacked in practicalities I’d make up for with love.
‘You’ll be fine. I’ve watched you these last few days.’ She looked at me. ‘I think you make a great mother. He’s a lucky boy. And I’ll still be here as a fallback if you can’t cope. You know that, Lily.’
‘I know.’ But I could see she was tired. The last few months had taken their toll. ‘Maybe the three of us could go off on a week’s holiday. Get some sun on our backs.’ I wished I’d thought of it earlier: it would have made a nice surprise present for her and relieved my conscience somewhat.
‘I’d like that,’ she beamed.
All too soon it was the day before New Year’s Eve and I was on the train again, although this time much more able to handle the crowds. Charlie clung to me and I prayed that the house worked out, so that I could have him for good soon.
‘Don’t go. I want you here,’ he cried. Even my promise of a dog met with a very muted response. ‘I’m sad,’ he told me.
‘So am I, but it’s not for long, I promise.’ I kept a smile pasted firmly on my face. ‘Be good.’ I wished I hadn’t said it as soon as it was out. I was never going to use that expression again, I decided.
‘I like being bold,’ he told me. ‘Thomas says it’s more fun.’
‘Thomas is right.’ I laughed. ‘But don’t tell his mum I said so.’
Because I’d had such a lovely Christmas and was delighted to be starting the New Year working for myself and possibly even living in my own home with Charlie and a menagerie, Richard and Daisy’s wedding wasn’t the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes next morning. Still, I knew it was going to be a long day, so I threw back the duvet and dived into the shower, then went out to get my hair blow-dried. I’d bought a dress in a very posh boutique that had opened recently near the café. I wasn’t at all sure about it now.
At twelve the doorbell went and a young guy handed me a huge bouquet of white flowers.
Tamsin and I wanted to wish you and Charlie all the best for the New Year, the card said. It was signed Love, James and I felt sad for them again.
Brian Daly arrived at two and that made me a little nervous. I’d invited him in a moment of madness, mostly to save myself from having no one to talk to, but also because I stupidly hoped Richard might be a teensy bit jealous. Sally’s email put paid to that wacko theory.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Do you fancy this guy or not and if so, why the hell are you going to his wedding? Come to think of it, you haven’t mentioned him in the same way at all recently? Is his appeal beginning to wane or
are you going to be sick all over your new frock when you see him? And you’re going with Brian? Whose horrible, slimy brother is Charlie’s father? (What are you going to do about that, by the way?)
Are you hoping the groom might still be harbouring a secret desire for you? Well, I’d check first to see if someone is cattle prodding him up the aisle because otherwise I’ve got news for you. He’s getting married ’cause he wants to. Face it, babe, men like him do exactly what they want, no matter how much they pretend otherwise.
Really, I think I’ll have to go see the credit union for a loan – you need me more than you realize.
S xx
PS Is lawyer guy any way fanciable?
PPS Who the hell is this Daniel bloke you keep mentioning all of a sudden??
I had to admit it, Brian Daly looked great in a monkey suit, although his mood seemed a bit subdued. He kept glancing at me as if he wanted to say something but hadn’t the courage. Frankly, whatever it was I prayed he’d keep it to himself. I had enough to deal with today. Or maybe he just hadn’t quite got over our last meeting. I think we both knew we needed to talk about the real problem in my life – his brother – and what trouble that could cause me in the future.
‘How did it go in Cork, how’s Charlie?’ He wanted to know everything. I relaxed as much as I could and told him all the news but all I could think about was him being Charlie’s uncle.
As we arrived at the church I resolved to enjoy myself while at the same time saying a Hail Mary to St Anthony for the day to be over quickly.
Brian abandoned me almost as soon as we arrived, which annoyed me slightly. It turned out he was a great friend of Daisy’s brother and knew all the family well, so he was off kissing cousins and back-slapping rugby types, which left me with far too much time to think.
‘Lily, you look terrific.’ Richard had spotted me the moment we walked up the aisle. ‘How was your Christmas?’
‘OK, yours?’
‘Mum totally spoiled me.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘Hard to believe, eh? Me, of all people, getting married.’ He looked like a goofy twelve-year-old. ‘Can’t think how I ended up here, really.’
‘Well, it does tend to happen when you ask someone to be your wife.’ I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Sally’s email was still niggling.
‘Are you OK?’
I was a bit peeved that he thought I wouldn’t be. ‘Yes, I’m fine, looking forward to the whole day really.’
‘Richard, I need you.’ Tom, the best man, raised his eyes to heaven and smiled at me before dragging the groom away.
‘Apologies.’ Brian slipped in beside me just as the music started. ‘Small world, what?’
‘Very.’ I was glad he was here all the same. Sitting on my own had made me start to think and some of my thoughts were disconcerting. Why was I still so confused about things, I wondered? I just had to concentrate on how far I’d come since the initial dark days when I thought I’d never even survive, let alone flourish, as Milly kept reminding me.
Daisy looked amazing. There were literally gasps as she walked up the aisle, and judging by the jewellery and shoes worn by the congregation this crowd were not easily impressed.
As the ceremony started, I let my thoughts drift back to Alison and Richard and James and William Hammond and Dave. Now that I knew who Charlie’s father was I needed to let them go, although I sensed I’d stay in touch with Richard, if not Daisy.
Before I knew it the priest was asking the age-old question about anyone knowing of any impediment. ‘I’d hate this bit if I was getting married.’ Brian winked at me. ‘Just in case.’
‘Surely as a lawyer you’d have all that nasty business taken care of,’ I whispered back, laughing.
I was getting a bit bored. The priest had a monotonous voice and had taken to explaining every detail as he went along, so I began to daydream about Richard not going through with it. Or another guy – a male model – running in and yelling Daisy’s name and her charging off down the aisle with him while the congregation gasped in horror – or applauded, depending on whose side they were on. I’d seen it happen on Fair City: it made for great TV.
I think I heard the voice long after everyone else realized something was up. All I can remember is that I looked around and saw a young woman in a simple dress and jacket standing at the back of the church, clutching the hand of a young boy who was a miniature version of Richard.
44
MARIE
‘COME ON, MUM, please,’ Kirstin Madden begged. ‘It’ll be just a quiet night, honest.’
‘Really, love, I’m not up to it.’ Marie knew her daughters would be disappointed – which was the only reason she’d agreed to spend the day in town at the sales – but she’d never been much of a New Year’s Eve type even when Dave had been the life and soul of the party, and she drew the line at going to the pub this year of all years.
‘We’re not leaving you at home on your own, Mum, no way,’ Lola said for the third time.
‘Please, I’ll be fine, honestly, I told you that already. Besides, my feet are killing me after all that walking earlier.’
‘Look, tell you what,’ her younger daughter was at her most persuasive, ‘stay here for a few hours, have a bath, relax, and one of us will come back for you about ten. How’s that?’
‘No, really I—’
‘No excuses, Mum. Just so that we can ring in the New Year with you, please? As soon as it’s over we’ll walk you home and then we can go back there if we feel like it.’
‘We will feel like it,’ Kirstin said, laughing. ‘No question about it.’
‘OK, OK.’ Marie knew when she was beaten. ‘Now go, both of you, and leave me in peace for a few hours.’
‘Yes,’ they chorused and went off punching fists in the air.
When Marie arrived the place was heaving. Every table was laden with almost empty glasses and there was nearly as much booze again on the floor. A brutal Beatles tribute band was belting out the hits and everyone under sixty was giving it socks.
Marie had never been much of a drinker and even though she downed a glass of lager in double-quick time to try and get in the mood, she realized she’d never catch up with most of this lot, so she stopped trying and resolved to sit it out. The heat was intense, and the place seemed to be overflowing with scantily clad women and sweaty men.
To their credit, most of Dave’s friends dropped over and insisted on buying her a drink. For some, it was the first time they’d seen her since the funeral. She was touched by all the stories about her husband and had to stop herself from crying more than once.
This was a terrible idea, she realized after about an hour, feeling a bit panicky all of a sudden. She missed Dave, especially missed knowing he was there to take care of her, bring her home whenever she wanted, fetch her crisps without her asking and loads of silly little things, like remembering she liked a splash of lime in her lager.
‘Excuse me, I need to go to the loo,’ she said to the two men who used to know Dave at school. They seemed relieved not to have to make small talk any more.
When she got back a woman she didn’t know had squeezed herself into a corner of the banquette next to where Marie had been sitting. Her heart sank and she was more determined than ever to get home fast and into her nice comfy dressing gown.
Just as she feared, the other woman was on for a chat.
‘I’m Nuala.’ She nodded pleasantly at Marie.
‘How’re you doing?’ Marie smiled and searched for one of her daughters.
‘Me husband’s abandoned me.’
‘It happens.’ Marie couldn’t remember which drink was hers, although she knew she had several to choose from.
‘He plays darts here so he knows all the regulars. I know a fair few, mainly the younger ones. My two sons bring me out for a drink some nights. They like it here ’cause the crowd aren’t as old as our local and there’s usually a good band on.’
Marie mumbled something and hoped
one of the girls found her soon.
They chatted on for a few minutes. ‘Are they Dave Madden’s girls?’ Nuala asked, pointing in the direction of her daughters, who were falling about laughing with two guys on the dance floor. Marie was relieved to see them. She tried to catch their eye.
‘Oh yes, I think I’ll—’
‘Terrible shame, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes . . .’ Marie hoped she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself before she could escape. Her emotions were already running high since the band had played ‘Here, There And Everywhere’ a few minutes earlier. It was the first song she had danced to with Dave.
‘My son used to fancy one of them.’ Nuala smiled. ‘Can’t remember which one now. Lovely family, from what Joseph told me.’
‘Yes.’ Marie’s voice was barely a whisper. Someone shouted, ‘Thirty seconds to midnight!’ but Nuala didn’t seem to care.
‘Although he was a bit of a ladies’ man, apparently.’
Marie was half standing and just about to make her excuses.
‘What?’ She sat back down, all ready for a row. The cheek of the woman, the absolute nerve. Marie opened her mouth to let her have it. ‘Now you—’
‘Sure aren’t they all, wha’?’ She grinned. ‘My fella is always eyein’ up the young ones. Have to keep them on a tight lead, eh?’ She waved to a crowd who were signalling to her to join them. ‘Anyway, Happy New Year, love.’ She disappeared.
Although her heart was thumping with indignation, Marie knew it had been said innocently. There was no intention to upset her, she was sure of it. Under normal circumstances, Marie would have laughed and agreed with her. That woman was only saying what everyone knew, after all. Dave had always had an eye for a good-looking woman. And Marie knew that even now – with all that had happened – it wouldn’t have bothered her unduly if she hadn’t found those numbers and text messages in Dave’s phone the other day, when she’d finally plucked up the courage to start clearing away his stuff.
As she half-heartedly joined in the countdown with her daughters glued to her side, Marie made only one New Year’s resolution – to find out a bit more about her husband’s friends.