A Posy of Promises_a heartwarming story about life and love

by Sharon Dempsey

  ‘Yes, it’s all fine. Tell her to take care and I’ll see her when she’s feeling better. Bye.’

  Ava closed her phone and frowned. That was strange. Normally Hazel was one of those people who were surgically attached to their mobile, and if you wanted to make excuses and throw someone off the scent you told them it was a bad case of the runs. No one liked to admit to having the runs, especially not someone like Hazel who would rather die than make a reference to sitting on the loo.

  Something was definitely up and she hoped that it had nothing to do with her and Ben.

  God, if Hazel had found out, she would be horrified. She would brand Ava a dirty slag who had violated her precious, innocent son. Gone would be her memories of Ben, the chip off the old man’s block, who had a series of girls traipsing in and out of Hazel’s immaculate home. Ava was mortified at the thought of Hazel and Robert discussing how she had probably led their son astray.

  She couldn’t believe how bloody stupid she had been. There was one golden rule of friendship, never sleep with your best friend’s boyfriend, ex or otherwise. But the golden rule should have had an appendage: definitely never sleep with your friend’s son, even if he is old enough to make his own choices and cute enough to be hard to resist.

  Still, no excuses. Ava had slipped up big time and she could have hurt Hazel when she was particularly vulnerable. Hazel probably couldn’t bring herself to face Ava. She would probably leave a pay cheque on the counter at the end of the week for Ava to find with a note saying, Leave the keys and don’t come back, you slag.

  It was closing time on Friday when Robert turned up, his normally ruddy complexion looking ashen and his eyes searching the stock on the shelves, doing anything to avoid looking directly at Ava.

  ‘Thought I’d drop by, see if you needed anything and check the takings,’ he said, still not looking at Ava directly.

  ‘How’s Hazel?’ Ava asked, her heart jumping in her chest, waiting for the moment Robert would hand her over wages and tell her not to come back.

  But instead of rounding on her, he slumped like a broken man, his broad shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

  ‘Oh, Ava, Hazel’s in a right state,’ he said, turning towards her for the first time and letting her see his tired and sad eyes.

  ‘Look, Robert, all I can say is I’m sorry. Really truly sorry.’ Ava took a deep breath and let the rest tumble out of her. ‘I was drunk the first time when we were in your bed. I don’t know why we ended up in your room rather than his. I can only assume his room was too messy. I like Ben, but I know I should never have allowed it to happen. It was only a couple of times, and we’re just friends now. He understood that I couldn’t risk hurting Hazel. Do you think she will ever forgive me?’

  ‘What? You and our Ben?’ he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘No offence, Ava, but I didn’t see that one coming.’ He even smiled, his mournful eyes lighting up for a few seconds.

  ‘Oh, God, isn’t that what this is all about? Hazel avoiding me, you coming in to let me go?’

  Robert’s eyes crinkled up and in spite of himself, let out a roar of laughter. Ava knew Robert’s laugh; it was full and robust, a bit like himself.

  ‘Oh, God, I needed that,’ he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘I haven’t cracked a smile in days.’

  ‘If you didn’t know about me and Ben, then what’s going on?’ Ava said, a mixture of relief and then fresh worry washing over her.

  ‘Come on, Ava, let’s go for a drink. I think we both need one.’

  They parked their bums on the wooden church pews in the Empire bar, each clutching their drink as a buttress to what was to come.

  ‘So, what’s going on? Is it the baby? God, she hasn’t had a miscarriage, has she?’ Ava asked, her eyes full of concern.

  ‘Yes, it’s the baby, but no we haven’t lost it.’ He took a gulp of his pint of Guinness then licked the creamy white foam off his top lip. ‘No, the doctors have put her on bedrest. She was bleeding a bit and having pains, so it’s just to be sure.’

  ‘Oh, Robert, I’m sorry. God, poor Hazel, she must be worried sick. No wonder she hasn’t been in work.’

  He nodded. ‘I know she has spent the whole of her pregnancy worrying about things that could go wrong, but I never really believed that anything bad would happen. She sailed through the boys’ pregnancies. There was none of this testing for everything back in those days so you were just delighted when they were born and you could count the ten fingers and toes. We never really knew much about what could go wrong then. But nowadays, they have tests for everything, and with Hazel getting on, they were treating her like it was to be expected.’

  Ava put her hand on his arm and squeezed it to let him know how deeply sorry she was. The pregnancy may have been an unexpected surprise, but Ava knew how loved and wanted the baby was. It wasn’t fair that they should have to deal with something so sad.

  ‘So, you can imagine we have been lying low, trying to get our heads around being older parents.’ He supped his pint then stroked the cool wet glass as if caressing a dutiful pet.

  ‘I understand. It would take a while to let it sink in and to accept.’

  ‘Yeah, at the beginning, Hazel did a bit of crying, but you know what, she never once thought not to have it. She just said we were lucky to be having a wee surprise baby come our way. You just have to crack on with it.’ He smiled. ‘Made me love her all the more. So, the thought of losing the baby now…’ he trailed off.

  ‘She’s a good mother and you’re a good husband and father, Robert. It’ll work out,’ said Ava, filled with admiration for the poor man who was obviously trying to hold his emotions in check and to give Hazel the support she needed.

  ‘I suppose so. What else can we do? Life just throws things at you and you either run with the ball or drop it.’

  They drank up and said their goodbyes both of them feeling emotionally rung out.

  ‘Tell Hazel that the shop is ticking over and not to worry; I have it all under control. I’m here if she needs me to talk or just be a shoulder to cry on but I understand if she needs some space at the minute,’ Ava said, giving Robert a hug.

  ‘You’re a great girl, Ava. Our Ben would have been a lucky lad to get a girl like you to stick around. Do me a favour though — don’t go confessing anything to our Hazel. She’s feeling so emotional at the minute that I wouldn’t want to try second-guess how she would react. She loves you, don’t get me wrong, but where Ben’s concerned nobody is too good or even good enough. I know I could take the ear bashing for not letting on to her that you’ve told me, but she is like a bag of cats at the minute, and I don’t want her going off in the deep end again.’ He waved goodbye and headed off home.

  Ava watched him wander off up Botanic Avenue, his head down and shoulders hunched up around his ears as if had to take on the world.

  26

  Ava watched the bubbles rise upwards in her champagne flute. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. The chocolate-covered strawberries were the perfect compliment, and while the thought of an afternoon of high tea indulgence at the Merchant hotel should have filled her with a sense of contentment, she wasn’t exactly stoked about the whole set-up.

  The big three-oh had finally arrived. Niamh had insisted in a girly tea party and had invited Hazel and Scarlett along. They all seemed to be getting on just fine, but Ava’s mind kept drifting. Thinking of Finlay and other birthdays she had spent with him. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he hadn’t called or sent a card.

  She had woken early and popped over to Moonstone Street just to check if he had posted a card there. But no, nothing. The disappointment that he hadn’t bothered to remember her on her birthday had put the dampeners on the whole day. Joseph had text and sent a selfie, pointing to a restaurant called Squid Ink.

  Joseph: Happy birthday, Squid girl! This restaurant awaits your order, should you ever take me up on the offer of a holiday.

  If it weren
’t for worrying about Maggie, Ava would have happily booked a flight. That would have been one sure way of getting over Finn.

  ‘There’s a girl on a shoot we were doing last week who had her hen week in Ibiza. She was telling me how they all went to this brilliant foam party and got off with these gorgeous fellas from Swansea,’ Niamh was saying.

  ‘What about the bride? Did she pull a fella as well?’ asked Hazel, biting into her white chocolate-covered strawberry.

  ‘She had a wee bit of a snog but nothing full on. She was getting married after all.’ Niamh laughed as she helped herself to another glass of champagne.

  ‘I don’t think Robert would have approved of me having a bit of a snog, even on my hen night,’ laughed Hazel.

  They pored over the tea menu as they sat taking in the sumptuous surroundings of the former bank’s Great Room Restaurant. They ordered the three-tiered silver stand of finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jam and a selection of cakes, pastries and sweet treats.

  ‘In LA, they hold pre-wedding showers like this only you can have Botox, chemical facial peels and collagen fillers while you eat,’ said Scarlett.

  ‘I read that there is a plastic surgeon in America who performs “female enhancement surgery” for women wishing to be virginal tight on their wedding night,’ said Niamh.

  Ava pulled a face. ‘Ew. The very thought of it is enough to put me off my strawberries.’

  27

  Later that evening, Ava and Scarlett went to visit Maggie. She was becoming more alert again and seemed to have improved. Every now and then she would lapse into talking about the old days, as if they were children sitting at Maggie’s knee. Scarlett’s presence seemed to please and confuse her all at once.

  ‘Hiya, Gran. How are you feeling today?’ asked Ava.

  ‘The clock is ticking. I can hear it, yet my hearing isn’t good. It’s strange when I know it’s standing like a sentinel out in the hallway out of sight. I see it when they wheel me out to the bathroom; it stands watching me, marking time. Funny to hear it now. It doesn’t chime, just ticks. Things come and go: memories, senses, voices. I’ve learnt not to fear them when they come or miss them when they are gone.’

  ‘It’s going to be one of those nights,’ Ava whispered to Scarlett.

  ‘Is that you, Ava? Sit a while. Stop fussing with my pillows and let me look at you. Your eyes are glistening. Your cheeks are all a glow. Like a little girl come in out of the cold, smelling of gingerbread and oranges.

  ‘Do you remember Halloween? Carving out turnips making them into lanterns, the smell of the candle flame scorching the inside of it, and the horrible smell reeking through the house. Oh, but you loved it. Scarlett sent you over that wee witch’s costume with the broom and the hat. Nobody over here had ever seen the likes of it. Of course, nowadays they all have their fancy dress outfits, but in those days, it was a real novelty. Your wee face was a picture when you looked in the mirror to see yourself all dressed up.’

  ‘I remember that outfit, Mum. I bought it in a shop on Santa Monica strip,’ Scarlett said, smiling. ‘I missed so much, Mum, didn’t I?’ She sat next to Maggie, while Ava busied herself tidying the room.

  Maggie pursed her lips together, too wise to admonish Scarlett, since she was back, Ava thought. Neither of them wanted to risk her running off again, now that they had her in their lives. Ava could hardly believe it.

  Maggie reached out and took Scarlett’s hand. ‘I can see the past so clearly, snatches of conversation run through my head like a radio play. Sometimes I can even taste things from long ago: Bird’s custard, brown lemonade, cough drops, clove rock. Silly really, how my mind can trick me.

  ‘For a second, I forget age has shackled me and I believe that I can throw my legs over the bed with the abandon of youth and run out the door. But then I feel the numbness, the aches or the sharp flinches of pain reminding me of my age like a suit of armour clinking to sound out my limitations. Not that I mind really. When you get to my age… what am I… eighty-six? I’m never sure these days. You are ready to give up all that which you thought was so important: the house kept tidy and clean, the new coat hanging in the wardrobe, the trinkets we gather over the years as if they mean something.’

  Scarlett took Maggie’s hand. ‘Mum, I’m so glad to be here with you.’

  28

  Ava was serving a regular customer when the telephone rang. Hazel took the call and when Ava had rung the order into the till and said cheerio, Hazel handed the phone to Ava. ‘It’s Niamh. She sounds a bit upset.’

  Ava took the phone out to the back kitchen, suddenly worried. ‘Hi, Niamh?’

  ‘Ava – it’s my dad, he died last night.’ She sniffed, obviously making an effort to remain calm and collected.

  ‘Oh, honey. Where are you?’

  ‘Up at my mum’s. The undertakers are here.’ She hiccupped, her voice breaking up with emotion.

  ‘Listen, sit tight. I’ll let Hazel know and try to get straight up to you.’

  ‘Thanks, Ava.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll see you in a bit.’ She hit the red end button and went out to the shop front to tell Hazel what had happened. ‘I’m going to have to head up to her house, can you manage without me?’

  ‘Sure, don’t worry. I’ll phone Erin and see if she can come in for a few hours. She can normally drop her wee boy off at her mum’s at short notice,’ Hazel said, her face full of concern for Niamh.

  The night before had been freezing cold and the gritters had been out trying to make the roads safe. Ava drove slowly up the icy Shore Road dreading reaching Mrs Lenaghan’s house. Niamh’s family were tight knit. She had three older brothers, all successful in their chosen careers and married with young families of their own.

  Throughout her friendship with Niamh, Ava had come to know and love the Lenaghan family as if it were an extension of her own. While she was used to the quiet, contemplative atmosphere of living with Maggie in Moonstone Street, she relished her times amongst the noisy, vibrant Lenaghan. They thought nothing of fighting and cursing in front of Ava, so used were they to her company it was as if she was one of their own. But despite this familiarity, and while she may have stayed at their house many times during her teenage years and gone to stay in their holiday cottage in Donegal on a few occasions, she always called them Mr and Mrs Lenaghan. Mr Lenaghan had even taken pity on Ava’s sorry attempts to learn to drive when he had discovered the instructor had more lecherous intentions in mind than watching the road ahead. The instructor’s fumbling attempts to seduce her in his Ford Fiesta while extolling Ava to keep looking ahead and read the road backfired when she rammed the car into the back of a bus.

  Mr Lenaghan, incensed when he heard about the driving instructor, had taken it upon himself to teach Ava how to drive and couldn’t have been prouder when she passed first time.

  Ava had often been a little jealous of the easy, boisterous fashion the Lenaghans lived in. Their house wasn’t small but it always felt as if it were bursting at the seams, so packed was it with cousins and all sorts of friends of Niamh’s brothers. Mrs Lenaghan was a seamstress by trade who worked from home when her family came along. She had turned her front room into a sewing room and Niamh and Ava loved going in to look at the bridesmaid dresses as they progressed from the cutting table to the tailor’s dummy standing in the front bay window and the dozens of shades of threads and fabrics she kept there. Mrs Lenaghan could rustle up a rah-rah skirt or shorten an old pair of trousers into a pair of pedal pushers in half an hour, and many a time Ava and Niamh were kitted out in clothes to make the rest of their classmates envious.

  Ava hit her indicator on before swerving into the Lenaghans’ road. She skidded slightly on part of the icy road the gritters had failed to cover. The freezing cold spell in Northern Ireland was a bit like the rain, predictable but, as usual, it had taken everyone by surprise.

  The Lenaghans had moved to North Belfast when Niamh was twelve which resulted in her having to ride two b
uses every day to be at the same grammar school as Ava. But everyone travelled to school, catchment areas being a thing associated with across the water. In Belfast, if you had to travel to attend the religious school of your persuasion then so be it.

  Their semi-detached house was situated at the bottom of Cave Hill, which dominated the skyline of North Belfast. Ava and Niamh had been forced to climb the hills on a couple of occasions by Mr Lenaghan in his determination to educate the girls about their city. He would tell them stories of how the basaltic hill, formed millions of years earlier, had been originally named Ben Madigan, and how the rock formation which appeared to look like the profile of Napoleon from afar had served as the inspiration for the novel Gulliver’s Travels.

  The country park of the surrounding area had become known as Cave Hill from the five caves which were thought to be early iron mines found on the side of the cliffs. Most of the time, Ava and Niamh had huffed and puffed their way up the grassy rock, resentful of having to spend their Saturday morning away from Rugrats, but when they reached the plateau, tired and breathless, and saw the breath-taking view over the city and the Lough their grumpiness dissipated and they fell under the spell of the Cave Hill walk. It had been years since they had done that walk but Ava still remember with crystal clarity the look of satisfaction on Mr Lenaghan’s face when Niamh’s whining had been silenced by the magnificent view.

  Ava had to park opposite the Lenaghans’ house. A black hearse was parked in their narrow driveway and many cars cluttered the normally empty road. A couple of men she didn’t recognised stood solemnly outside the house smoking and talking in hushed voices. She noticed the streetlights were glowing orange despite it being mid-morning, as if to signify that everything in the world was upside down and wrong.

  Ava nodded to them and walked through the wide-open door. She could hear Niamh speaking to her mother. ‘Mummy, come on now. You need to get dressed.’ She seemed to be trying to coax the catatonic woman to go up the stairs and put a more suitable outfit on than the haphazard one she was wearing and had obviously pulled together in haste when Mr Lenaghan had taken ill the previous night.