Frankie appeared just as we were coming up for air from a bear-hug.
“Wee message from Owen and Luke, ladies, which basically translates as ‘Come the feck out, our stomachs think our throats are cut,’ and that’s the censored version.”
“We’re coming now and we’re fine,” Mammy said. “Aren’t we, Ruby? Looking forward to good food, good company and no more foot-in-mouth incidents.”
“Which aren’t your fault, Mammy. Just ignore me or else kick me in future.”
“Can I have that in writing, please?” Frankie said with a grin.
“No, you feckin can’t, you tart!” I said.
“Tart?” Owen said as we reached the table. “Apple or rhubarb?”
“Or cherry?” Luke said, joining in. “We’re just fantasising about food at this stage as it feels like it might take forever to appear.”
“Oh shut up. We’re here now,” I said gruffly. “And who ever heard of a cherry tart anyway. Cherry pie maybe.”
Donal and Robbie were making eyes at each other which obviously meant that they were having a full-scale conversation about the state of my head through facial expressions and the answer was that I was wired to the moon.
“Sorry to keep you all. Mammy and I just had a few things to sort out and they’re sorted. Again . . . ahem.”
“Darryl!” five voices shouted in unison, “You can take our order now!”
Darryl appeared with a notepad and proceeded to write down everyone’s orders which were made at breakneck speed.
Gabriel was positively glowing and stared dreamily into space after Darryl had departed to deliver our requirements to the chef.
“Isn’t he just lovely?” he said. “We have so much in common.”
“He’s delightful, I’m sure,” I said as I played footsie with Luke beneath the table.
Frankie’s phone rang in her bag, just as my big toe was snaking up Luke’s calf, and made us both jump.
“Oh God, it’s Angelica! I hope nothing’s wrong!” Frankie said, looking worried. She got up. “Hello. Yes, love. Is everything okay?”
Frankie stood rooted to the spot for several seconds before her hand flew to her mouth and she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Oh no,” she exclaimed, making everyone turn round. “That’s terrible.”
Owen was on his feet demanding to know what the problem was just as I was mentally making plans to go home and forgo the trip to the art gallery.
“What’s happened? Are the children okay?” Owen demanded.
Frankie said goodbye to Angelica and hung up. “Yes, everyone’s fine. It’s nothing to do with the children. Ruby, I don’t quite know how to tell you this but there’s been a bit of an accident. There’s been a fire in town. The fire brigade are still at the scene and it’s pretty bad.”
“A fire where?” I demanded, standing up abruptly. “Please tell me that my wee house is still standing.”
“Your house is fine, Ruby, but the venue for your wedding reception isn’t. The Swiftstown Arms has been burnt to the ground.”
Gabriel looked stricken, my mother looked horrified and Luke and I simply stared at each other.
What the hell were we going to do now?
Chapter 44
“Was anyone hurt?” Mammy asked. (Oops, I suppose that should have been my first thought but I was kind of preoccupied by the fact that the room where I was planning to wine and dine my wedding guests was now fire-kindle.)
“They got everyone out in time. There was a major gas leak and an explosion, as far as Angelica heard.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face. I know I said I wasn’t a girlie-girl but even I didn’t want to end up having my wedding reception in a makeshift tent in somebody’s back garden (which was the hopeless picture in my mind as my plans had just literally gone up in smoke).
“Don’t panic. I have contacts. I’ll get something sorted,” Gabriel said quickly.
“You may have contacts, Gabriel, but we certainly don’t have the money to pay for some fancy hotel,” I said mournfully. “Who ever heard of a hotel burning to the ground just months before a wedding? It couldn’t just be a wee fire created by an electrical fault that caused a bit of smoke damage. Oh no. This had to be a big, dramatic, destroy-all-in-its-wake fire that wreaked complete havoc. Is that typical of my bad luck or what?”
“You may not have the money,” Mammy said quietly. “But I do. Or at least I know of one sure-fire way of getting it. A simple signature would be all it would take to sort this mess out.”
“A simple signature signing away what?” I squeaked. “Please tell me that you are not referring to the cottage and letting that greedy pair of feckers get their hands on it? Over my dead body. I’d rather not have a reception at all if that’s the case.”
“Rubbish,” Donal intervened. “You’ll be having a reception. We’ll sort something out. Sure if all else fails, I’m sure the Smugglers’ Inn could arrange something.”
“The Smugglers’ Inn can’t sort anything out. Have you not heard the news? Burglars destroyed the place last night. It was completely wrecked and will probably be closed for the foreseeable future for refurbishment.”
Everyone around me looked stricken.
“We hadn’t heard,” Robbie said. “I suppose we’ve been out all day.”
“Who would want to cause damage to the Smugglers’ Inn?” Donal asked. “The owners are lovely and very well liked around here.”
“I read in the paper recently about how bars are getting turned over at the end of the night and the burglars are getting away with the profits. A place like the Smugglers’ Inn would make a tidy sum and there is a recession on and people are desperate,” said Robbie.
I cleared my throat and looked towards Mammy who had paled and was staring into the distance.
“The wedding isn’t until May,” Luke said, changing the subject. “Surely the Smugglers’ Inn would be refurbished by then? It might be all right.”
“Might be? Well, that’s hardly good enough, is it? I’m not that keen on switching my wedding reception from one venue that has just burnt to the ground to another one that has to go through extensive refurbishment due to a robbery. Strangely enough, it doesn’t inspire me with confidence or conjure up any images of happy ever after.”
“You lot are all daft,” Frankie said suddenly. “You’re all blind to what’s sitting directly under your noses. We’re sitting in a perfectly good hotel at the moment. Why not have it here? Get married in Smugglers’ Bay and have the reception here. Problem solved.”
I looked at Frankie and wondered had she gone temporarily insane.
“Oh yeah, what a wonderful idea, Frankie. Why don’t we have our wedding reception, the most important event in our lives or so you keep telling me, in a hotel which is managed by somebody who can’t stand the sight of us? I’d rather not be subjected to a deliberate case of food poisoning or have Judith McQueen gob-spit in my wine, thanks, if it’s all the same to you.”
“But it would be so handy,” Mammy said. “And you’re here now and I don’t see anyone doctoring your drinks or being rude to you. She can’t turn you away. She’d probably be delighted to be making money from you.”
“Even if I was mad enough to consider it as a feasible option which I’m not, have you noticed how busy this place is? I’m sure it’s booked up well in advance and we’re getting married in eight months.”
“I’ll speak to Harry McQueen,” Donal offered. “I’m sure we could work something out. Don’t worry, Ruby, we’ll find a way to still give you and Luke the wedding reception you deserve.”
“Indeed we will,” Robbie echoed his son’s sentiments.
I forgot my troubles for a moment and looked at the sincerity that was etched on the faces of Donal and Robbie and decided that I was very lucky. But then the reality of their words sank in and I got cross again.
“I don’t want to work anything out with this lot,” I clenched my teeth and drew
my fists into white knuckled balls. “You’re not listening to me.”
Frankie came and stood beside me and rubbed my arm whilst Luke held my hand. I felt drained. What calamity was going to befall me next?
“There’s nothing we can do tonight,” Luke said just as Darryl and two other waiters appeared carrying steaming plates of food to our table. After all the complaining, nobody seemed hungry any more and my appetite had certainly wilted. I picked at my food for the next half hour and then sat subdued as the bill was paid.
“Do you still want to go to the gallery?” Luke asked gently.
“Are you shitting me? It’s the only thing keeping me sane at the minute. Of course I want to go.”
“In that case your chariot awaits and I’ll do the driving tonight so that you can relax and enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
Where was the enjoyment in knowing that your wedding day was possibly doomed, especially when after a lot of soul-searching you’d come to the conclusion that it actually was important and you did want it to mean something after all?
Chapter 45
By the time we arrived at the art gallery I was feeling marginally more relaxed. Luke had pointed out again that there was very little I could do about it and spoiling my evening by worrying wouldn’t change anything.
A lot of people seemed to be excited about the event as two traffic attendants were directing the queuing cars into a nearby car park beside the building, whilst suited waiters were giving people glasses of champagne as they entered the premises. Mammy was travelling with Donal and Robbie, and Gabriel was waiting for Darryl to finish his shift and then they were going to make their way over.
“Wow!” Frankie and I said in unison as we looked at the scene unfolding in front of us.
“Swish or what?” Frankie said with her mouth gaping. “You didn’t tell me that this was going to be such a toffee-nosed affair. I feel like a tramp now.”
Frankie, as usual, was dressed to perfection in a black halter-necked dress and black peep-toe shoes. Her hair was wound in a decorative bun and silver jewellery adorned her neck and wrist whilst long sparkly earrings dangled from her ears.
“Some tramp,” Owen said, looking at her appreciatively and letting out a long slow whistle.
“You’re slightly biased,” she said, giggling as he nuzzled her neck and whispered in her ear.
“Would you two feckin lay off and get a room!” I said.
“We have already,” Frankie said excitedly. “And it’s magnificent.”
“Yes, it’s amazing,” Owen said. “I usually couldn’t care less about what a room looks like as long as it’s clean but I have to say I was very impressed. Why didn’t you take Ruby to see it when we were still at the hotel, Frankie?”
“Oh. I never even thought,” Frankie said. “I’ll sneak you in on the way back. It’s maybe better that we didn’t go before when the lovely Judith was there. She probably would have thrown you out.”
“I’d like to see her try,” I growled. “A sumo wrestler would have difficulty in getting me to budge if I didn’t want to.”
“That’s true,” Luke said.
I looked down at my clothes and took a quick squint in the mirror at my reflection. Compared to Frankie, I was most certainly the tramp as I was dressed as usual in my comfiest black trousers, DM boots and a long purple top with a black belt. A silver necklace with a black stone (courtesy of Frankie’s massive jewellery collection) and black stud earrings were my only concession to jewellery. My hair was smoothed down in a softer style than usual and kohl eyeliner and lip-gloss had been liberally applied.
“You look lovely,” Luke said as I appraised myself.
He pulled up the handbrake after parking the car near the entrance of the car park.
I smiled and sniffed the air as we approached the gallery, carrying Luke’s photography equipment. A little cottage beside it obviously had a roaring turf fire inside, as the aroma was giving the evening a lovely heady traditional scent that reminded me of my grandmother and days gone by.
We came to the front door and Luke introduced himself to a young man with a clipboard who was ticking names off a guest sheet.
“Excellent. Caitlin O’Donnell is inside mingling and will be delighted that you’ve arrived. She doesn’t want anything formal – just a few shots of everyone who’s in attendance as well as some photos of her work. If you like art I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s a sight worth viewing.”
“You can be the judge of that, Ruby,” Luke said as we continued into the room.
“I’ll give you a fiver if I’m wrong but I think Mr Doorman is in Gabriel’s gang,” I said, looking back at the man who was still greeting everyone enthusiastically and giving directions.
“How can you tell?”
“I don’t know. Just call it a hunch,” I said. (Oh feck, maybe spending too long in Gabriel’s company had inadvertently honed my radar as well.)
As we continued to make our way through the crowd I spotted Caitlin who was talking animatedly to a group who were hanging on her every word. She looked radiant and was dressed in a pewter-coloured tulip frock with matching heels. Her blonde hair was clipped at the front whilst curls cascaded down her shoulders.
“Look, there’s Mammy and her entourage coming now. I better go and meet them and let her know that I’m okay.”
“For now,” Luke murmured.
“I bloody heard that,” I muttered.
“You were meant to,” he said. “I’ll go and mingle and take a few snap-shots of the crowd. See you later.”
After I had spoken to Mammy and spent a few moments with Donal and Robbie I wandered around, soaking in the atmosphere and studying the pictures that were framed and on display. As Caitlin had described, they were very contemporary bold prints with large swirls of colour, dramatically framed, and each with a name that seemed to bear some significance to the piece.
I had become transfixed with one which was a series of red and black imagery set in a silver background and entitled Celebration when Caitlin came to greet me. She was glowing with excitement and happiness and I wished it was me showcasing my work (although I doubted very much that the crowd who had gathered would be very interested in my crumpled doodles . . . but then there was no accounting for taste . . . maybe they would).
“Congratulations, Caitlin,” I said in thorough admiration.
“Thanks for coming, Ruby. Make sure you look round all the rooms. Each room is dedicated to a particular style of art and I know that you’ll appreciate it. The room at the very back of the gallery contains Sarah Larkin’s paintings. I agreed to let her exhibit some of her work tonight as well. I just met your mother and she was heading in that direction.”
“Is Sarah herself here?” I asked, feeling my excitement grow.
“She’s here somewhere. I’ll introduce you if I get the chance later in the evening although I haven’t managed to speak to her yet myself.”
“I look forward to it,” I said as we parted company and I took her advice and began to explore around me.
There was indeed a series of rooms just as Caitlin had explained. The main room, where the drinks were being served and everyone had congregated, was displaying the new collection but the other rooms played host to a variety of styles and moods of painting which totally enthralled me. There was a room solely dedicated to life drawings of faces and people in various poses and situations. Another room was filled with beautiful watercolours depicting neon-coloured landscapes, dramatic skylines and seaside views with cottages, starry skies and upturned boats. The next room had a Continental air to it with paintings of sidewalks, canopied cafés, street signs and showgirls with their legs in the air performing on a stage. Once I had emerged from this room I ascertained that there was only one display left to view at the end of the corridor and it must belong to the great Sarah Larkin whose ear would be bent listening to the gushing noises my mother would be undoubtedly making.
I ent
ered the room and took a deep breath. All around me was a collection of the most hauntingly beautiful paintings I had ever seen. There were colourful images of waterfalls in the summer, frozen lakes in the midst of winter with Christmas lights reflecting from the ice, messy kitchen dressers, old women sitting by fires and children running along a beach laughing with the wind in their hair. Each painting was unique and the attention to detail was amazing. I thought of Mammy’s painting and how we always said that it made you want to climb in and be part of the scene, and so it was with everything else that this artist had constructed.
I was lost in concentration when Luke came to find me and had no idea how long I had been there.
“They’re breathtaking,” I whispered reverently. “She is such a talented artist. Her work is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t wait to meet her. Luke, please don’t let me make a gobshite of myself. Don’t let me curtsey or fall at her feet or do anything daft.”
“Ruby, since when do you curtsey? Please tell me. I wasn’t aware that you knew how.”
“Well, I don’t. But I might start. She’s unbelievable.”
Luke shook his head, put his arm around me and directed me towards the door.
“Well, now’s your chance. Caitlin asked me to come and get you as she’s with Sarah at the moment and would love you to meet her.”
I steeled myself and felt strangely nervous as I wondered what she would be like. I hoped that she wasn’t going to be some cocky disappointment who was full of her own self-importance and enjoyed having her head up her arse – as had been the case with a few other artists I had met.
“Caitlin, I found her,” Luke called as Caitlin and a group of other people came into view.
“Super,” she said, looking all around and scanning the faces in the room. “Excuse me everyone but where did Sarah go? She was here a moment ago.”
A series of shrugs and pursed lips indicated that no one knew where she was.
“Her paintings are amazing. Absolutely fabulous,” I said.
Anyone for Me? Page 25