‘Liam, let yourself out, and when you leave just pull the front door behind you,’ she said, as if she was talking to Oisin O’Brien, one of the troublesome kids in her class.
Out on the doorstep tears pricked her eyes. She hadn’t been with a guy for years, and then it had to go and be Liam Flynn. He’d said she was lovely. That it had been lovely. What did it mean?
At lunchtime she texted him, saying: ‘Thanks. Jess.’
She checked and rechecked her messages but there was nothing in reply. At home that evening she searched the bedroom and the kitchen and the sitting room to see if he had left a note.
Nothing. She sat down and, pretending to watch the TV, tried to make sense of what had happened. OK, she had drunk far too much and ended up with a man she fancied. He had drunk far too much and ended up with her!
Amy phoned her, all excited, thanking her for coming along. ‘It was a great night!’ She laughed. ‘Dan got pretty bombed, so I took him home and put him to bed.’
‘I went home a while after you,’ Jess said, trying to downplay what had happened.
‘I believe Liam was pretty bad, and ended up in some girl’s bed. He’s such a scuzz bag,’ confided Amy. ‘Imagine: he’d only broken up with Hazel a few days before, you know, but that didn’t stop him!’
Jess, mortified, took a sharp intake of breath.
Feck Liam Flynn! Feck him! she thought. He might be Dan’s best friend but Amy was right: he was an utter scuzz bag.
Chapter Fifteen
Amy watched drowsily from the bed as Dan in his Santa boxers surfed on their bedroom carpet, testing out his Christmas present. She’d known that he’d love the Dakota surfboard, and felt the warm glow of satisfaction that comes from buying the perfect present. Dan, in turn, had bought her the most divine pair of black leather boots, a new Synan O’Mahoney dress and an iPod loaded with some of her favourite songs. Her old one had fallen down the loo in Café en Seine about two weeks ago when she was out having drinks with her office crew. Listening to the familiar tone of Glen Hansard singing ‘Revelate’ put a smile on her face as she looked at Dan’s tall lean body and happy face and knew that he was perfect. They were perfect together, and this time next year they would be married and Christmas would be even better.
‘Amy, surf’s up!’ yelled Dan, flinging himself on to the bed and on top of her as they collapsed together, laughing.
‘Amy, do you want to shower first?’ he offered. ‘I’m going to watch The Snowman.’
‘Sure,’ she smiled, ‘but we’d better get a move on or we’ll be late.’
It was such a temptation on Christmas Day to stay snuggled in bed or on a couch together, watching TV all day long, but she was due at her parents’ in less than an hour. Dan would drop her off and come in and have a quick drink and say hello to her immediate family and her gran and her uncle and aunt and cousins before disappearing to his folks. Tomorrow she would call over to see his parents and have dinner there. It was a pain having to be in separate houses, but they were both trying to keep their families happy; which meant, bizarrely, they couldn’t be together. Next Christmas, when they were married, Dan would come to the O’Connors and then the following one she would go to the Quinns. It was already sorted.
Splashing on some of the new Jo Malone scent that Norah had given her for Christmas, Amy pulled on her beautiful new boots. She finished dressing and checked her make-up as Dan sang ‘Walking in the Air’ in the bathroom. Amy loved the red fitted dress that she had found in a small boutique in Belfast a few weeks ago, when she had gone north to do a bit of Christmas shopping. She pulled a soft black cashmere shrug over it. Then, after checking that she had all the presents for everyone, she grabbed her weekend bag, and she and Dan left the apartment.
‘Happy Christmas!’ greeted her mum when they arrived. She hugged them. ‘You both look wonderful!’
The house was like a furnace, with a huge fire blazing, and Amy slipped her presents under the Christmas tree. It was massive as usual, taking up about a quarter of the space in their living room. The air was filled with the delicious smell of roasting turkey, and she realized that she was actually starving. Her dad pressed a drink into Dan’s hands despite his protests, as Amy, boiling, slipped off her woollen shrug. Gran was already on the sherry, and Fran and Tom were enjoying a glass of Buck’s Fizz.
‘I’ll have one of those, too, please, Dad,’ smiled Amy.
‘I’m not cooking.’ Fran laughed. ‘Katie and Brian want to show off their new house and kitchen, and have invited us all there. So no bloody stuffing the turkey or washing a ton of spuds this year! It’s my first Christmas off in twenty-five years and I plan to enjoy it.’
Ronan was sitting at his laptop Skyping Krista, who had returned to Krakow to see her family. He was going over to join her for New Year.
‘He’s got it bad,’ whispered Ciara, who looked amazing in a figure hugging black leather skirt and a black top, her green eyes sparkling as she showed Amy the incredible silver and emerald-colour earrings that Santa had left for her.
Amy’s Uncle Tim and Aunt Linda and their four children had arrived only a few minutes ahead of herself and Dan, and Linda wanted to know all about their wedding plans.
‘Hey, I’d better go,’ apologized Dan. ‘We eat a bit earlier at our place, and you know what Mum’s like.’
Amy knew well that Carmel Quinn would freak out if Dan delayed them sitting down. Taking another glass of champagne, she suspected it would be hours before the O’Connors sat down, as her mum was leaving the turkey to its own devices in a slow oven. She was deep in conversation with Fran. Meanwhile, Amy’s dad and Tom Brennan were debating the merits of wind power versus sea power with Uncle Tim.
‘Say goodbye to my gran before you leave,’ Amy whispered to Dan.
Sheila Hennessy, wearing a bright red Christmas cardigan and new white blouse, began to tell Dan all about when she was a child on the farm in Longford where she grew up, and how they got ready for Christmas.
‘We started fattening the pig in March . . .’
‘Sheila, I have to go,’ Dan pleaded, as Amy stepped in to rescue him.
‘She tells us all the details about fattening the pig and the turkey and the goose every Christmas.’ Amy laughed as they said their goodbyes at the front door. ‘Is it any wonder that Ciara has turned vegetarian!’
‘Next year it will be different,’ he promised, giving her a kiss. ‘We’ll be married.’
Chapter Sixteen
Jess Kilroy’s New Year’s resolution was to get fit and healthy and be happy. She had exactly twenty-two weeks to go before she was a bridesmaid at Amy’s wedding, and she had set herself a realistic weight-loss goal and was determined to reach her target.
Amy had asked her to come looking for her wedding dress, and Jess knew that once Amy found her own outfit her attention would immediately turn to getting the bridesmaids’ dresses, something she was dreading.
Christmas had been lovely, but a calorie disaster! Why her family had each given her a large chocolate selection box was beyond her! Grainne Kilroy, her mother, was far too good a cook, and got insulted if you refused second helpings of anything at her table. She had slaved for weeks making Christmas puddings, pies and a cake, and Jess found it hard to resist the traditional treats. Then there was the constant round of drinks parties and family meals, and there was only so much Ballygowan water a person could drink without spending much of the night in the bathroom.
Her sister Deirdre had announced she was pregnant again, which had thrown her other sister, Ava, into hysterics on Christmas Day as she and her husband Finn had been trying to have a baby for years and were going to have another round of IVF. Jess’s dad had sloped over to the neighbours to get away from it all.
She had bumped into Liam Flynn with a crowd out in Kehoe’s pub on South Anne Street on Christmas Eve. He’d been drinking in the pub since lunchtime and had been polite, kissing her and wishing her Merry Christmas, chatting to her for a few min
utes before rejoining his friends. He made no mention of seeing her again or asking her out. She hadn’t meant to spy on him, but later on could see him engrossed in chatting up a small blonde who was all over him.
Feck him! she thought angrily.
Amy and Dan and the crowd were going away for the New Year to Donegal.
‘Go on, Jess, come away, too,’ begged Amy. ‘It’s all organized and we’ve booked three cottages in Bundoran, and there’s plenty of space. It’ll be fun, a great laugh, and you know nearly everyone going.’
Liam Flynn was going, and although Jess was sorely tempted to take Amy up on her offer the thought of the sheer hell and embarrassment of spending a few days around him was too much. Anyhow, New Year was usually totally overrated, and she decided to forsake driving to Donegal, and opted to ring in the New Year babysitting for her sister Deirdre instead.
At midnight, sitting alone in her sister’s house in Castleknock watching TV with a glass of wine, a single packet of Tayto, and two-year-old Adam asleep on her lap, she hoped that this year would be a very good one!
Chapter Seventeen
Amy stood on the beach watching Dan and Liam and Bren and Dan’s best surfing buddy, Conor, out on their boards. Dan was testing out his new surfboard with a triumphant hundred-and-fifty-metre ride on the reef break. The winds were gusting, and the waves high, and running so fast that the excitement was electric. Amy fought to catch her breath as she jumped up and down in her wetsuit cheering and filming Dan with her mini-cam. She had been out in the surf a few times herself, letting the waves catch her as she fought to keep her balance and not panic. She’d had a few spills but had got back up again. Now she was tired and ready to chill out in front of the big fire they had lit in the cottage overlooking the beach.
The weather was bloody freezing, and they must have been mad to have decided to come to Bundoran for New Year, where the chill winds of winter blew in from the Atlantic and gusted along the coast.
Tara and Aisling were messing about with a board, neither of them managing to stay up for more than a few seconds. The rest of the crowd had already legged it to McDaniel’s, the local pub, and were nursing pints and hot ports there. Feeling her teeth start to chatter, Amy began to walk back to the car, Tara and Aisling running to join her.
‘We’re fffrrreeezzzinng!’ they both said, wrapping themselves in towels before stripping out of their suits and tugging on fleeces and jeans and big woollen socks.
‘Attractive!’ Aisling laughed, pulling on a wool hat, too.
‘Let’s go back to the house and warm up,’ suggested Amy. ‘We can heat up some soup in the microwave and there’s soda bread there, too. The lads will give us a shout when they are ready for home.’
The small holiday cottage was warm, and they sat down in front of the fire. From the window they could just about see where the guys were, and Amy put on the soup for them and threw a few more logs on the fire.
‘God, I’m so glad I came,’ Tara said. ‘It beats me sitting at home while Johnny goes to Edinburgh with his friends. I’d probably just have gone out tonight to some club and had a crap time.’
‘I wish that Jess had come,’ said Aisling. ‘I thought that she was all up for it, and then she just goes and stays at home.’
‘I don’t know what’s happening with her,’ worried Amy. ‘She’s been acting funny since before Christmas. I’ll phone her later.’
Amy, to her surprise, was really enjoying the break from Dublin. They had driven up to Donegal yesterday, a massive drive, but Dan and the guys had still insisted on getting out on their boards when they arrived, even though it was late and the light was fading. They had cooked a huge pot of chicken curry afterwards, and sat in, drinking and chatting and playing music all night. It had been great, and everyone had got up mid-morning to go to the beach or up by the cliffs.
Amy took a second bowl of the warming vegetable soup, all the time keeping an eye on the water and waves.
Tonight they had booked a big table for fourteen in Farraige, the restaurant at the edge of the town. Drinks in McDaniel’s first, then New Year’s Eve dinner in the restaurant, which had got a great write-up in the Good Food Guide. She couldn’t wait.
The meal had been superb and Farraige had certainly proved that it deserved its reputation.
‘If this place was in Dublin we’d be there every weekend,’ said Jeremy, heartbroken that his new favourite restaurant was so far away. The table was littered with wine glasses and beer bottles as they began the big countdown to midnight, Amy clutching Dan’s hand in hers.
At twelve o’clock the place went crazy, with everyone shouting and singing and wishing each other: ‘Happy New Year! Happy New Year.’
‘This is going to be our year,’ Dan promised, kissing Amy. ‘We’ve the wedding, and then I think we should think about buying a house.’
Amy, a little bit tipsy, threw her arms around him. The wedding! A house! It was going be a great year.
Jamie grabbed her to hug her, and Liam kissed her, and Aisling hugged her tight, all tearful at the thought that Amy wouldn’t be single much longer.
It was 3 a.m. before they finally left the restaurant, Amy and Dan excited at all that the future held for them.
The next day they straggled to the beach. It was wet, but that didn’t deter the diehards, and Amy watched snug in her rain gear as Dan and Liam and most of the lads enjoyed themselves. Kim White, Conor’s girlfriend, fearlessly took in a huge run on her board despite the conditions, to cheers from everyone. The rest of the time was spent in McDaniel’s, where they stayed eating and drinking for the rest of the night.
As they packed up the next morning and prepared to leave the cottage, Amy realized that she hadn’t once opened the laptop she had brought with her. She had been full of good intentions to go through some wedding things, but just hadn’t bothered. She had so much to do. The wedding was only five months away, and her first priority was to get her wedding dress. She’d looked in a few places, but now it was time to make a decision.
‘It’s beautiful here,’ said Dan, wistfully taking a last glance around at the magnificent scenery as he packed their boards on the roof rack. ‘I’m going to miss this.’
‘Me too,’ said Amy, giving him a hug and realizing that she genuinely meant it, and had enjoyed the break far more than she had expected.
The two of them were silent as they started the car and headed for home.
Chapter Eighteen
Ever since she was a little girl Amy O’Connor had had a vision in her head of the kind of dress she wanted to wear on her wedding day as she floated up the aisle on her dad’s arm and glided back down on her husband’s. She wanted a dress that would make her feel very special, and that was classic and pretty and feminine. A wedding dress that she would be proud to be photographed in and to be reminded of every day of her life, as she looked at the photo in a silver frame and her wedding album.
As a teenager she had covered reams of notebooks and drawing pads with silly sketches and doodles of ‘the dress’, but now that the time had actually come to buy it she was nervous and in a quandary. What if she got it wrong! Picked the wrong one!
‘That’s not going to happen,’ reassured Jess. ‘My sister Ava said she knew the minute she pulled on her dress in the fitting room that it was the right one. She said it was like magic, and that she didn’t even want to take it off or give it to the lady in the shop to have it altered and taken up, because she loved it so much.’
Amy had spent the past few weeks browsing the internet, looking at magazines, and scanning rails of dresses as she refined the search for the perfect wedding dress to a handful of bridal shops.
Her mum, and Jess, and a reluctant Ciara, had been roped in to join the search for the perfect wedding dress, and Amy had made appointments in four places.
‘You have to make an appointment to go and spend a fortune on a dress! It’s mad,’ said Ciara. ‘Bloody mad!’
Amy had to agree. She had alwa
ys stupidly imagined that you could just walk into a bridal shop, try on a dress, fall in love with it and buy it there and then. She had never imagined that viewing dresses at these shops was by appointment only, and that even if you were having an early summer wedding many of them put you on a waiting list for a few weeks before they’d even see you. Anyhow, she had finally managed to get appointments that Saturday with four bridal specialists.
‘We’re going to four shops!’ protested Ciara. ‘What a waste of a Saturday!’
‘Ciara!’ warned their mother. ‘Choosing her wedding dress is very important for your sister. Honestly, you and Amy will always remember this day in the future.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ Ciara grimaced. ‘I could be asleep in bed or studying for my exams.’
‘The exams can wait this once,’ Helen O’Connor said. ‘They’re not for another few months, and if you are that concerned you can study tonight, instead of going out.’
‘Thanks, sis!’
‘Well, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Jess laughed.
They started off in the inner sanctum of the most expensive store in Dublin, Brown Thomas, looking at the American designer Vera Wang’s selection of wedding gowns. They cost a fortune, but certainly had the ‘wow’ factor – and of course the ‘wow’ price. Amy picked out three she really liked and, at the insistence of the ultra chic ‘wedding advisor’, two more designs.
‘Everything will be made to your exact measurements, so don’t worry if a dress is too small or large or too long,’ the sales lady soothed.
Amy loved the traditional full Vera Wang design, and felt like she was stepping out of a film set as she spun around to show the others outside the fitting room.
Mother of the Bride Page 8