Chapter TWENTY-FOUR
Christmas Eve
Shimmering baubles glisten under the chandeliers in the huge hallway, fairy lights twinkle and dance above the glow of flickering church candles on every surface, and the smell of spicy mulled wine mixed with fresh pine fills the air.
Everyone is dressed for the occasion already, except Ava, who is upstairs with Cordelia trying to choose between an outfit all the way from Madrid, or a sparkly dress she claims i.
‘a bit last year’.
I think the Spanish option might win.
I also imagine that Cordelia will be itching to get back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on her culinary delights in time for serving. My mouth waters at the thought of it all.
‘Excuse me? Over this way, please,’
I call out to the leader of the jazz band, who is heading in the wrong direction with what looks like a large trombone.
‘Yes, follow me and I’ll show you where to set up in the ballroom. Thank you so much. I can’t wait to hear your music. What a treat!’
The jazz musician and his fellow band members follow as Ben brushes past me, barely time to stop, though he touches my arm briefly before making his way to the front door to greet some of the villagers who have volunteered for car-park and waitering duties.
I shiver beneath his touch, remembering how hard it was for him to leave me last night after we’d spent a snatched couple of hours together in my cottage once Ava was tucked up in bed, fast asleep and full of excitement for everything that today will bring. We lit the fire in my bedroom for the first time, we talked through the whole event from start to finish, and we made up for our last attempt at romance by lying in each other’s arms. It was heavenly.
I tiptoe into the ballroom for a final look and my heart swells with pride. It truly is a sight to behold. The long, snow-white table is laid with fine china, while shining cutlery and crystal glasses all gleam in the soft light.
My harp sits tall and strong, waiting for me to bring it to life again, a request from Tilda I couldn’t possibly refuse and a nice way of me remembering my dad, who bought it for me all those years ago.
In the corner just like before, Jack Heaney’s stage is already filled with musical instruments and a sound system to get the party started.
I only wish Gracie was here to see it all. I wish Nana Molly was coming too, but it turns out old Edward didn’t invite her after all, and Nana laughed at the suggestion when I mentioned it, so it’s probably a good thing he didn’t.
‘Lou, he’s far too young for me,’
she said.
‘I wish you all well with the event, but I won’t be attending. I burnt my bridges with the Heaneys long ago, and I’d rather spend the afternoon in front of the telly with a sherry in peace, no harm intended.’
‘Jealous,’
whispered Mum, who to the contrary was buzzing even more than I’d anticipated. She couldn’t wait for the clock to turn two so she could show up in her new emerald-green dress and matching shoes. But I was baffled by what Nana said about burning bridges. It seems there is more to her avoidance of Ballyheaney House than she’s been letting on, but she refused to comment any further and I got tired of asking her. Maybe she’ll tell me when it’s all over.
‘Thank you, Lou,’
Tilda says, coming up behind me as I take a moment to double-check the ballroom set-up before our guests arrive.
‘I’m not sure I’ve said it to you enough, but despite whatever hiccups may have arisen over the past few days, we couldn’t have created this magic without you. The whole house is like something from a fairy tale.’
‘It really is,’
I agree.
‘It not only looks like a fairy tale, but it feels like a fairy tale too. What a team. There’s no way I can take all the credit. It’s your beautiful home, after all.’
Tilda looks around in wonder. It really is a sight to behold, from the crackling log fire in the grate to the snowflake-shaped napkin holders, which add a playful touch to the elegance. The flowers are exquisite, if I do say so myself, with the white roses looking particularly beautiful against the gold ribbon.
‘I think Jack, grumpy as he may have been, would be very proud of us today,’
says Tilda.
‘You have really made him part of it all with your finishing touches and finesse.’
My eyes fill up when she puts her arm around my shoulder, a gesture that I know is way out of her comfort zone. Tilda is a warm and loving mother and grandmother, but outside of her immediate family circle she is reserved when it comes to showing emotion.
‘Even the weather is on our side,’
I say, nodding at the long windows to acknowledge the crisp, dry afternoon we’ve been blessed with.
‘A far cry from yesterday’s torrential downpour. Yes, I agree. It sure does look like Mr Heaney might approve after all.’
Out in the hallway, Ben is organising the small group of schoolchildren, who are impeccably dressed in Christmas jumpers, ready and eager to greet our guests with Christmas carols. He looks dashing in his tuxedo, another subtle nod to his father’s absence. Despite his reluctance to embrace the party, Jack Heaney would always turn up on the day looking fresh and dapper in black and white, his dicky bow perfectly tied beneath his chin. Uncle Eric has followed suit in similar attire, and with Cordelia’s help his usually wispy white hair is slicked to the side. If I’m not mistaken, I believe he may even have allowed her to trim his bushy eyebrows.
‘There she is! My golden girl,’
Uncle Eric says to me in the hallway, looking in admiration at my black, sequinned jumpsuit and killer heels, which I know I’ll regret wearing very soon.
‘Is it too early for champagne? I feel incredibly nervous, Lou. Maybe it’s my old age but I’m shaking.’
‘Same,’
I say, linking my arm through his. I lean my head on his shoulder.
‘Uncle Eric, did you open your Christmas present early?’
I’d left him a sneaky present under the sitting-room tree which he seems to have found already.
‘I have absolutely no idea what you might be talking about, but boy, I smell good,’
he laughs.
‘You rascal,’
I say.
‘Our guests will be here any minute, so I reckon it’s the perfect time for a glass of champagne, though that display looks almost too good to touch.’
A pyramid of champagne flutes on the round hallway table is a striking centrepiece, but I can’t take credit for it. Olivia had the idea when she came round earlier, armed with a magnum of champagne as a contribution from the committee, though I’ve a feeling it has come from her own pocket, if truth be told.
‘I’ll wait a few more minutes, then,’
says Uncle Eric, licking his lips.
‘Whoever thought we’d see the day that witch would be back through the doors of Ballyheaney. I hope she doesn’t upset you.’
I throw my head back in laughter.
‘No, she doesn’t upset me at all any more,’
I tell him.
‘She’s a much humbler version of herself now that she’s in her forties. I haven’t told anyone yet, but this morning I agreed to take one of her gorgeous puppies after Christmas. He’s the last of the litter. I’m going to call him Jingle, as a reminder of the year we all got back together.’
Uncle Eric doesn’t know whether to look puzzled or impressed at the revelation.
‘As long as he reminds you of happy times. You always did like a festive name for the animals,’
he says, in recognition of Little Eve.
‘Maybe one day we’ll have dogs and ponies and ducks back here at Ballyheaney.’
‘Well, Alexander the Great is a good start,’
I say.
‘A Christmas party in full swing again and a peacock strutting around the courtyard are two bold steps in the right direction.’
Ben swoops in to join our conversation, but we don’t take it too far as he’s keen to make sure we’re all in place to welcome the first of our guests, who are trickling into the car park already.
‘Mum, Uncle Eric, make sure you’re close by the front door,’
he says.
‘Cordelia! Ava!’
He calls up the stairs to where his sister and daughter seem to be taking ages to get ready. Cordelia is confident that all is under control in the kitchen, so she didn’t mind taking the time to help Ava. We’ve all been keeping a close eye on her since yesterday’s escapade, and when she asked me to stay for an early-evening Christmas movie once we were all warm and dry, I couldn’t refuse such an endearing invitation for the second time.
‘All set?’ says Ben.
‘All set,’
I reply, my very toes tingling with anticipation.
As the clock strikes two, I let the schoolchildren’s teacher know that their singing can begin, and when they strike u.
‘Let it Snow’, jingling little sleigh bells in their hands, I have goosebumps.
Ben catches my eye again. We both break into a huge smile. This is it. We’ve made it happen, and it already feels even more special than we could have imagined.
I look to the left towards the staircase where Cordelia, looking a vision in a white tailored trouser suit, makes her way down the stairs holding her niece’s hand. Ava isn’t wearing the Spanish outfit she’d almost settled on, nor is she wearing the sparkly dress which is too last year.
Instead, Ava is wearing a red dress which clashes fashionably with her auburn hair and fits her like a glove. With fine black buttons up the front, a flared skirt and neat collar, she looks like she’s stepped out of a different era, with all the grace of the beautiful young lady she is becoming.
‘Surprise!’
says Cordelia when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.
‘Wearing her grandmother’s precious Christmas dress from 1960, please welcome our very own belle of the ball, Miss Ava Heaney.’
Ben bursts into applause, his face a picture of wonder while Tilda wipes tears from her eyes. Uncle Eric puts his hand on his chin, shaking his head with delight.
‘Well, I never,’
he says.
‘What a spectacular touch to an already spectacular afternoon. And it looks like our first guests have arrived.’
Ava makes a beeline for me, her face bright and cheerful. This time I don’t hesitate to give her a hug.
‘I saw the framed photos of Mum and Grandpa you arranged in the drawing room,’
she tells me, her voice full of delight.
‘When the lady from the cancer charity asked who they were as she was setting up her information, I didn’t even cry. I just told her all about them both and she was such a good listener.’
‘See?’
I say to her, squeezing her tighter.
‘You’ll never forget your mummy. Never ever. Now, how’d your drawing-room playlist turn out?’
‘Really cool! I even include.
‘Last Christmas’
for Mum, and Bing Crosby for Grandpa Jack. I’d better go put it on before Cordelia asks me to help with more kitchen duties,’
she says, a fresh sparkle in her eye and a spring in her step.
I look on in wonder from my position beside Olivia’s magnificent champagne display, watching the Heaneys greet each and every guest with laughter, handshakes, hugs and enthusiasm. Declan the delivery guy is here with his mother, who is thankfully feeling well enough to attend.
‘I’ve an extra donation for the charity,’
he tells me, holding out an envelope stuffed with cash.
‘Some of my clients around the village couldn’t get tickets as it’s sold out, so they asked me to pass these funds on instead. And there’s something in there from me and Mum too as a thank you. We couldn’t have got through her illness without the support of the community and the charity.’
I direct him to the drawing room, watching how he is so patient and attentive to his darling mother, the centre of his whole world.
‘Lou, you look delightful,’
I hear my mum say.
‘Is there anything I can help with? Is this dress OK? I wasn’t sure if it was a bit over the top, but Edward says it’s perfect.’
‘Ah, Edward!’
I say as the penny drops.
I spot Master Campbell making his way towards us through the gathering crowd.
‘He asked me to accompany him here today,’
says Mum.
‘and, well, I couldn’t say no. I was quite honoured, to be honest. I used to fancy him lots back in the day.’
Well, I got that one wrong entirely, I think to myself. Today is already full of surprises. We pose for photographs, I check in with Cordelia, who has everything under control, and then I scan through the guest list to see that a couple of people are still due to arrive, including a few names I don’t recognise as local. Soon it will be time for the food to be served, the jazz band will strike up, and everyone will mingle and chat over the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Everything is running like clockwork. Everything is perfect, even if a claw in my gut still grabs me every now and then when I wonder if Gracie is missing me as much as I am her.
‘When everything settles, how about you and I take a walk outside for old times’
sake?’
Ben whispers to me from behind my back.
‘I like your thinking,’
I say to him, turning to face him. I don’t think I will ever tire of seeing his face or hearing his voice, not to mention feeling his touch. We haven’t yet talked about our future, but we both know we’re going very much in the right direction.
‘Once the final guests arrive, everything should tick over nicely when the music kicks off and the food and drinks are served. Are you happy so far?’
‘I’m ecstatic so far,’
he says before sneaking a kiss on my forehead.
‘I think that must be the last few people in now. Wait a minute, is that your grandma? She looks a million dollars.’
I slowly turn around again to face the front door, my jaw dropping at the sight of Nana Molly, who follows a few people I’ve never seen before, then politely air-kisses Tilda Heaney when she steps over the threshold. She looks dazzling in a royal-blue dress and silver flat pumps. Her hair is smoother than usual, and I believe I might be able to smell her perfume from here.
‘Nana?’
I say in disbelief.
‘I thought you weren’t coming.’
Uncle Eric catches my eye as he watches her like a love-struck puppy, waiting on her attention, but she casually ignores him.
No.
Surely it can’t be.
‘I’ll admit it, I had FOMO,’
she says to me with a shrug.
‘Isn’t that what the young ones say? Fear of missing out?’
‘That’s it,’
I reply, leaning in for a hug to welcome her.
‘I’m sure you know my good friend Eric Heaney?
I lightly pinch her arm in a bid to provoke some manners towards our host, but she defiantly puts her nose in the air.
‘My one true secret love,’
says Uncle Eric.
‘Molly, my beautiful Molly. How I’ve dreamed this day would come.’
If it weren’t for the schoolchildren singin.
‘White Christmas’, you could have heard a pin drop here in the hallway of Ballyheaney House.
Nana Molly purses her lips tightly, but she can’t hold back her giddy side for long before she starts to giggle.
‘Bet you say that to all the girls, Heaney,’
she says, giving him a look from the side of her eye and a friendly swipe.
‘Now, any chance you might get me a champagne? I didn’t come here for the good of my health, you know.’
Uncle Eric dances on his toes as he leads her across to the drinks display, which is more a lopsided rectangle now than the pyramid it was before, while Ben and I shake our heads in disbelief.
‘Did you know about this?’
I ask him.
‘No,’
he says, his eyes wide.
‘Did you even have an inkling? I can’t wait to tell Cordelia!’
‘I had absolutely no clue,’
he says, distracted it seems by some new activity by the front door.
‘Oh, look. I thought your grandmother was the last to arrive going by our ticket numbers, but it appears we’ve another unexpected guest.’
‘Then we’re closing the doors,’
I say to him without looking.
‘We need to get food served before Cordelia has a fit, and rightly so. She doesn’t deserve the pressure of trying to keep her canapés warm for people who can’t be bothered to get here on time.’
Ben turns me around by the shoulders so I can see our late entry. My hands go to my mouth. My skin goes cold.
‘Sorry to gatecrash,’
I hear an all-too-familiar American accent.
‘I don’t have a ticket, but I’d really like to be here for my mom. She has no clue I’m coming, so I hope to surprise her for Christmas.’
My legs almost buckle beneath me. I stand, frozen to the spot, as I’m caught up in a true-life Christmas miracle. My eyes fill with tears of pure unfiltered joy.
‘Gracie!’
I whimper in a sound that’s somewhere between shock and joy, then the floodgates open and I race towards her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight, almost desperate hug.
‘I couldn’t do it,’
she cries into my shoulder.
‘I couldn’t stay away from you on your first Christmas back here, so Dad and I did the whole presents-and-dinner thing yesterday and I got the very last seat on a flight into Dublin this morning. Happy Christmas, Mum. It’s so good to be home.’
I hear the smooth, velvety tones of jazz music seep through the open door of the nearby ballroom. I smell the tantalising aromas waft through the air as the canapés are brought in from the kitchen under Cordelia’s careful guidance, with Olivia holding one of the trays. She isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty this time round it seems, but I’m not focused on her at all.
I’m too busy absorbing the delight on Ben’s face as he introduces himself to my precious Gracie with a warm handshake and a dimpled smile.
‘The last time I saw you, you were a tiny babe in arms,’
he says to her.
‘And you’re the image of your beautiful mother in so many ways. Aren’t you lucky.’
‘I’m told that so much these days,’
says Gracie.
‘I’m very, very lucky and I’m so glad to be here.’
Most of all, I feel like my heart might burst with the joy of every single precious moment I’m experiencing. And the party is only starting.
‘Now I know why you kept rabbiting on about Ballyheaney this and Ballyheaney that,’
Gracie whispers as I lead her into the ballroom to find Nana Molly and Mum, who are about to get the shock of their lives in the best possible way.
‘It’s because of him, isn’t it?’
I stop and look my beautiful girl, my best friend, who is now a thoughtful, sensitive and caring young lady.
‘It’s because of him,’
I tell her, tears pricking my eyes again.
‘Yes, it’s all because of him.’
As our guests sway to the music, talking and laughing with old friends and new, I see Tilda look around her with such joy and pride. Cordelia, with the bulk of her job done, nudges her mother playfully and hands her a drink. Mum and Master Campbell are locked in conversation, while over by the window I see Uncle Eric and my grandma outside, laughing merrily as he shows her the new prize peacock.
Then, when I think I can’t take any more happiness, I feel Ben’s arm drape around my waist as Ava invites Gracie on a tour of the house.
The Christmas spirit seeps into every crevice and every corner of Ballyheaney House once more. The walls are no longer silent. The rooms are no longer still.
‘I love you, Lou,’
Ben whispers, his words making my heart swell.
‘I hope you know now that you made the right decision to come back here. I know I have.’
I lean my head on his strong shoulder, wondering if life can get any better than this. Then the band strikes up a thumping version of the son.
‘Feliz Navidad’, and the whole place is rocking.
‘That song is going to haunt me forever,’
laughs Ben. Cordelia is already on the dancefloor, followed by Ava and a much more reluctant Gracie, who does her best to copy their dance moves.
‘Will we join them?’
I ask, but Ben is already leading me by the hand to where even Tilda is dancing along. I wave outside to call Uncle Eric and Nana Molly in, though I’d no need as they’re already behind us, shimmying and swaying to the music.
‘By the way, I love you too, Ben Heaney,’
I say to him when we’re strutting our stuff on the dancefloor.
‘Same time next year, then?’
‘Same time every Christmas Eve from now on,’
he says, kissing my cheek before twirling me under his arm.
‘Every Christmas Eve,’
I agree.
‘Every single one of them.’