Chapter SIX
Lou
THEN
Christmas Eve, 23 Years Ago
My parents cooed with delight as they watched me serve up canapés to delighted guests in the blue ballroom when the next Ballyheaney party came into full swing. But no matter how much I tried to put on a brave face, my stomach was in tatters after an earlier conversation with Ben as I was putting the finishing touches to the tables.
Because he was now studying in Paris, his social circle was rippling even further while I was still at school in our home village, feeling like I lived in a puddle to his grand ocean. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, hearing of his many adventures stung me much more than they should have done.
I was jealous, and I could barely hide it.
‘Let me introduce you to Lou,’
I heard him say to Shaheer, a fellow student who had travelled from Paris for Christmas with the Heaney family.
‘Lou, remember I told you about Shaheer? He’s going to be a haematologist when we grow up.’
‘If we grow up,’
said Shaheer, extending his hand to greet me.
‘We’re too busy having fun in France.’
‘It’s so nice to meet you,’
I replied, brushing my hair out of my eyes with the back of my hand.
‘Ben has told me all about you. He and I are good friends.’
‘Friends?’
said Ben. Shaheer looked out the window, suddenly distracted or pretending to be so.
‘Very good friends,’
I said, hoping that might sound better. I wasn’t intending to hurt him, but the word ‘friends’
seemed to have hit him hard.
‘Buddies,’
he said, raising an eyebrow.
‘Shaheer, let’s go grab a beer. It’s hardly too early, is it? I’ll see you later then, my friend.’
As much as I was still besotted with Ben, I wasn’t sure how else we could describe our relationship. I was hardly going to tell Shaheer that, despite our distance, Ben and I talked most days or at least texted, and when we did get the chance to meet up it was like thunder, lightning and stars colliding all at once.
Ben seemed to be trying to avoid me after this though, so as the ballroom filled up I focused on the job at hand by pouring fizzy wine into narrow flutes, carrying trays of glasses back and forth to the kitchen and making sure everyone had a drink, as per the rules set by Tilda Heaney.
She was the epitome of old Hollywood glamour, with her captivating presence and vintage style. Her husband was grumpy and aloof with most people, in comparison, while Cordelia bore no resemblance to either of them, choosing to bend every rule in the book according to Uncle Eric, who bombarded me with so much information that the Heaneys almost lost their veil of allure for me.
But Ben was definitely like something heaven-sent, a lot like his mother with his elegance and confident manner, yet he had a soft and tender side that made him even more attractive than his stunning good looks.
And now I had unintentionally offended him on the one day that meant more to us than any other.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have an extra-special treat for you today,’
said a rather tipsy Uncle Eric from the makeshift stage in the corner.
‘Please welcome, on Celtic harp, our very own Lou Doherty.’
Though I was expecting this, my heart jumped into my mouth. I took off my apron and handed it to my mother, then made my way towards Uncle Eric, whose face was red and beaming.
It was at Tilda Heaney’s request that I’d brought my harp to the party. I’d even noticed a few tears in her eyes earlier that morning as I practised on my own in the ballroom.
My legs shook like jelly as I pushed through the crowd, my head dipping down in fear of making eye contact with anyone I knew.
I wasn’t really used to performing in public, at least not out of the school assembly hall, but it was something I planned on doing more of, especially if I could make some spare cash out of it with university just around the corner.
This was not your average audience though. It was half my home village, it was the Heaneys, and mostly it was Ben Heaney, the permanent subject of my dreams.
The audience applauded as soon as I took up position, but I was still too afraid to look up, mainly in case I caught my dad crying, which was very probable. As I adjusted the microphone slightly and strummed across the strings of my harp, suddenly the room fell silent. I swallowed hard, hoping the beads of sweat that formed on my forehead weren’t visible to the naked eye.
When I dared to glance in a different direction from where my parents stood, I saw Ben giving me an enthusiastic but subtle thumbs up. Then he stretched his strong arms up to open the top part of a window, as if he’d read my mind. I smiled at him to say thank you, knowing right then I couldn’t have loved him more if I tried.
I closed my eyes, feeling the joy of my parents urging me on as I played the opening o.
‘The Holly and the Ivy’.
You could have heard a pin drop.
I allowed myself to become instantly lost in the soothing sounds as I plucked the strings, feeling at ease instantly. I sometimes believed my harp whispered back to me, and I never failed to find comfort in its company when I felt lonely or afraid. The strings were so familiar under my fingertips, and each pluck felt like a step towards a place of sheer happiness, of Christmas days gone by and of many more to come.
Even before the tune came to its gentle ending, I was greeted to the sounds of raucous applause with requests for more which made my heart skip a beat. I was suddenly aware that all eyes were on me, but instead of being afraid like I had been, it felt like I was floating. It was a strange mix of adrenaline, pride and humility knowing I’d shared something I loved so much, and that they felt it too.
I looked up to see my parents both wiping their eyes, but it was Ben’s face that stood out from them all. He was nodding, his eyes glistening, while he clapped his hands, unable to disguise our connection. Uncle Eric stood with his chest out like a proud peacock, landing a supportive hand on Ben’s shoulder.
‘Well done,’
he mouthed in my direction.
I finished with a soft, melodic version o.
‘Silent Night’, and when the whole room sang along it turned out to be one of the most moving and memorable moments of that year’s party.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the talent and beauty that is Miss Louise Doherty on harp,’
said Uncle Eric into the microphone when I was done, as a glass of whiskey in his hand threatened to spill over.
‘This year’s party is even more magical because of the touches she’s brought to it. We all love you very much, Lou.’
‘Thanks, Uncle Eric,’
I whispered when he gave me a very tight hug.
‘I hope you’re not in too much trouble with Cordelia for saying that.’
‘Ah, she knows she’s my ultimate number one behind it all,’
he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
‘You were fantastic. Well done, Lou.’
I felt tears of joy sting my eyes as I milled through the crowd of well-wishers, all gushing with hands on chests or pats on my back. What seemed like hundreds of faces blurred in front of me. I’d no idea where I was going. To my parents, probably, for reassurance and comfort as overwhelm took over from the adrenaline I felt while playing.
‘You are incredible,’
I heard a deep voice say. I stopped in my tracks and looked up into Ben’s face. Just the sound of his voice took my breath away.
‘That was more wonderful than expected, if that’s even possible.’
‘Thank you,’
I stuttered.
‘Wow, I think it’s going to take me a moment to come back to earth after that. I’ve never performed to such a big crowd before.’
‘Am I allowed to say I’m proud of you?’
he asked tentatively.
‘As your friend.’
‘You are very much allowed, thank you,’
I said with a wry smile to acknowledge his dig in my direction.
We both laughed, but then I was serious again.
‘Ben … the truth is …’
I stammered.
‘I think I’m so afraid of you—’
‘I sincerely hope you aren’t afraid of me,’
he interrupted.
‘I hadn’t finished,’
I replied, wishing I could melt the frown from his strikingly handsome face.
‘What I mean is … Ben, I’m trying to protect my own heart because I’m so afraid of it being broken. We talk and text all the time, we laugh all the time. I know I can tell you anything because I feel like you know me better than anyone else in the whole world.’
‘I think I might do,’
he agreed.
‘So why do I feel like there’s a but coming after this?’
‘But we rarely see each other, Ben, so how can we ever be anything more than friends? It’s so hard,’
I whisper.
‘and now you’re in Paris to study for four whole years, and you’ve all these new friends and soon there’ll be girlfriends too. I imagine there are already.’
He glanced around the room then took my hand, which was still clammy from playing music to what had felt like the masses.
‘Look at me, Lou,’
he said softly.
‘Just look at me for a moment.’
I did what he asked me to, feeling my knees go weak in a way I’d never believed was possible.
‘You are eighteen, I am nineteen. How about we forget about the bigger picture for a while?’
he suggested.
‘How about we enjoy every second we have today and every day until I have to go back to Paris, and after that we take everything as it comes?’
His brow furrowed at the thought of what I might say in reply, but he had no need to worry. In a very tricky situation, it was all we could do.
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’
I said, smiling.
He touched my chin.
‘Good. So what do you want right here, right now? Not later today, not tomorrow, not in ten years’
time. I mean at this very moment?’
We stood so closely our foreheads were almost meeting, and while I was very aware that we were in a crowded room, I didn’t care.
All I cared about in that moment was him.
Us.
Whatever us meant.
‘You,’
I told him, feeling my stomach flip as I said it.
‘I just want to be with you.’
His eyes lit up.
I’d never wanted to be around anyone as I did Ben Heaney, so to know he felt the same made me feel like we were standing on the edge of something very special. It both frightened and excited me in equal measure.
Maybe we didn’t need to put a label on it or make any big long-term announcements.
There was no denying it. When we were together, there was an electricity, a pull, a magic if you like, and it filled me up more than I’d even thought was possible.
From that day on, I wanted him more than ever.