Chapter 24
Annie
Hola! From Ibiza! Having a muy bien tiempo! Just in the airport, waiting for flight home! Ciao!
Catherine
Wonderful! Glad to hear it all went well!
Annie
Just having a cheeky Prosecco now… don’t want to come home!
Catherine
I’ve just been in your house and put fresh milk in your fridge! See you soon xx
Shazza was already in the kitchen of Roz’s house the following day when Kitty arrived for Sunday lunch, armed with a bottle of champagne and a box of posh chocolates. Shazza held a large glass of red wine in her hand and was sitting by the Stanley range. ‘So, I said to him, Roz…’ she was saying, just as Kitty entered the kitchen, as though she and Roz were best friends rather than only meeting that day, ‘that no one was going to treat me like that ever again and it was about time I found my pride…’
‘Quite right too,’ said Roz.
‘And so I have entered a virtual nunnery…’ Shazza looked up and smiled when she saw Kitty. ‘Roz and I are just getting acquainted.’
Roz moved towards Kitty, her arms wide. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How lovely to see you again…’ She kissed Kitty and then took the champagne and chocolates. ‘This is too much,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s too gorgeous of you!’
Shazza stood up and hugged Kitty. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked before turning to Roz. ‘Your son is a bad influence… led us astray last night…’
Roz smiled. ‘Now, if it was Rory, I might believe you, but Tom isn’t the type…’ There was a sound of someone coming through the back door. ‘Ah, here he is now.’
Tom ducked his head under the low lintel and smiled when he saw Kitty. ‘Sleep okay?’
She nodded. ‘You?’
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Which I don’t normally…’ He glanced at his mother and she gave him a quick smile in return, as though sleep and the pursuit of sleep was a topic of conversation which they had regularly.
It was a large Victorian house, on the end of a terrace on Harbour Road, and it had a relaxed, lived-in feel, the edges softened by Virginia creeper outside, the paint on the door a little scuffed, the carpets worn, but it was warm and comfortable, the mantelpiece above the Aga had a collection of jugs and bowls and a photograph of three smiling boys, all sitting in a tree. There was Rory, the smallest, on the lowest branch. The biggest, with a huge smile on his freckled face, was Tom, and then in the middle, a tall teenager, handsome and blessed with youth, his whole life ahead of him, was Paddy.
‘Well, isn’t this nice,’ Roz said, ‘it’s lovely to have young people around. When my boys were growing up there were always kids running in and out, playing football, asking for juice or snacks, or when they were teenagers, all in the den watching some film… do you remember, Tom?’
He nodded and then turned to Shazza and Kitty. ‘Mum loves children…’
‘And adults,’ she said. ‘Nice children always turn into nice adults…’
Rory and Tara arrived next and Tara shook Roz’s hand. ‘So kind of you to invite me,’ she said, pleased. ‘I don’t normally get invited anywhere on a Sunday.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ said Roz. ‘Lovely to meet Rory and Tom’s new friends.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’ Tara went on. ‘Peeling, chopping, table laying?’
Roz beamed at her. ‘Nothing. Sit down and tell us all about football and how everything is going. My oldest son, Paddy, I’m sure the boys have told you, well, he was a great footballer. Always practising. Wanted to play for Manchester United…’
‘City,’ said Rory.
‘Same thing,’ said Roz.
‘Paddy would be appalled,’ said Rory. ‘Thank goodness he’s not here to hear it.’
Roz laughed, as Rory stood behind her and put his arms around her shoulders.
‘He wouldn’t be impressed at all.’
She shook her head. ‘I know,’ she said, as Rory released her and sat on the edge of one of the old wooden kitchen chairs. ‘Paddy took football very seriously.’
‘As these lads don’t,’ said Tara. ‘I think they think they are there to have fun. They are leading the two girls astray… or maybe it’s the other way round?’ She turned to Kitty and Shazza. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘It’s them leading us astray, definitely,’ said Shazza. ‘All we want to do is play football, isn’t that right, Kitty?’
Kitty laughed. ‘Absolutely.’
‘And I have no idea why I have a raging hangover, or nausea or incredible tiredness. And a bruised arse. What happened? It’s like I fell over or something! But this wine, Roz, is helping magnificently.’
‘Good to know, Shazza,’ said Roz. ‘You help yourself to more and, Tom, make sure Tara has a glass as well.’
‘Have you started without me?’ said a voice and Kitty turned to see Edith coming through the back door. ‘Hope you have opened the C?tes du Rh?ne I gave you last time?’ She stood for a moment, taking everyone in. ‘Ah! It’s the five-a-siders! How lovely… Oh, Tara… she’s Sally-Anne’s god-daughter, did you know, Rosamund? She’s always running or kicking something… and Shazza, from the Newsletter, and Kitty, who was volunteered rather than volunteering… and how was the bread from yesterday? Good, yes?’ She held Kitty’s hand, beaming at her. ‘It makes marvellous sandwiches…’ went on Edith. ‘My favourite is a ham and Dijon, with some cornichons, and my secret ingredient, Cashel Blue. Divine.’
They all sat around the table, Kitty in between Rory and Edith. There was roast chicken and roast potatoes, stuffing, carrots, gravy, apple crumble and ice cream for dessert.
There was a tap of a wine glass as Roz stood up. ‘Just a quick toast to absent loved ones… if anyone here has lost anyone, then now is our chance to remember them… they are here in spirit at least… to loved ones!’
‘To loved ones…’ everyone echoed.
‘Your father was a footballer, was he not?’ said Edith, turning to Kitty.
‘I think so,’ said Kitty, eating her apple crumble which was still warm and spiced with cinnamon.
‘A very talented player, I hear,’ said Edith.
‘Was he?’
‘Yes,’ Edith went on. ‘I was talking to the chairperson of the Sandycove Seafarers and she was saying that she remembers him scoring a winning goal. It was the last time our club made it into the Dublin final thingamajigs. Or whatever they were called. Anyway, it was a big moment. And then, sadly, he was injured.’
‘I don’t know much about it…’ admitted Kitty.
‘Don’t you? Perhaps he doesn’t like to talk about it?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Kitty, but she was thinking she hadn’t let him talk about it and perhaps she should have listened more, and been more forgiving about his faults. She had enough of her own.
After they’d eaten, Kitty was drying the dishes, handing them to Tom, who was then putting them back into the cupboard.
‘My mother is a little obsessed with trying to create a happy home,’ he said. ‘I hope you don’t mind being forced to hang out with us.’
‘I loved it,’ she said. ‘Your mother is lovely.’
‘She’s always been used to cooking vast quantities,’ said Tom. ‘Three boys, we all ate a lot… and I think it’s nice for her to have people around. So thank you.’
‘Any time…’
‘Is that a promise?’
Perhaps it was the way he looked at her for a moment, but Kitty felt herself blushing for some reason.
‘I’ve been meaning to say that your dad was Paddy’s coach,’ went on Tom. ‘Paddy loved football… that’s why Rory and I joined the five-a-side, trying to carry on something for him. We’re not good at it, not like Paddy was. He was brilliant. He spent his whole childhood with a ball in his hand. At dinner, it would be on the chair beside him, he would sleep with it. He wouldn’t walk to school, but he would dribble a ball the whole way.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘We’d all get so annoyed with him. Would you ever put that ball down? But what I’d give to hear him kicking it against the back wall, over and over…’ He gave a small laugh. ‘Sorry to go on… but it was just that I wanted to tell you how good your dad was to Paddy. We lost our dad when we were really young and football was always a real solace to Paddy and later, when he was struggling with his mental health, as long as he was down here, on the pitch, he was okay… football kept him going longer than if he hadn’t had it.’
Kitty nodded. ‘That’s good to know…’ She felt something akin to pride, thinking of her dad. She’d never been proud of him before, she realised, and it was nice to know that he’d been a source of good in someone’s life.
‘And your dad was always so nice to Paddy, even when he was finding it hard to play. A couple of times when he couldn’t get out of bed, your dad came and talked to him… I think he’d been through a few dark days himself…’ He was looking at Kitty, his head slightly on one side. He pressed his lips together. ‘Anyway, enough about all that, I just wanted to say he was so good to Paddy.’
Kitty nodded, a little overwhelmed to speak for a moment. It was so wonderful to know how instrumental Billy had been in someone’s life, to have cared for Paddy, to have been good to him made her feel proud of Billy, a pride she had never allowed herself to feel before.
‘I’m so glad,’ she managed. ‘I’m so pleased…’ She felt a lump in her throat. Life, she thought, only had meaning if you were surrounded by the right people and she was sure, for the first time in her life, that she had exactly that.
Later, Kitty and Shazza said their goodbyes and walked back to the village together. The days were becoming longer, there was warmth in the air, the trees a shimmer of green leaves. There was a lightness and freshness to the world. Fun was something you had to make yourself, Kitty thought. You didn’t just wait for it to happen to you, you actively had to hunt it down or seek it out or magic it up. And when you realised that, fun and adventure and all those wonderful things that you find in the cracks and crevasses of life, in all the spaces beside the building blocks of just staying alive and sane, there was fun to be had. Kitty could almost feel herself lifting skyward, as though being tied to a bunch of helium balloons.