Chapter 4
4
MINNIE RYAN
Minnie heard the phone ringing, but for a moment she thought it was on the television. Then she realised that Angela Lansbury wasn’t answering a call on Murder, She Wrote , so she pushed herself up out of her armchair and took a few steps to the phone next to Henry’s chair. He’d always liked to keep it by his side. That way, he could answer it quickly or take his time to make sure he got the right number if he was voting for a smashing act on Britain’s Got Talent . He liked that show. It didn’t rile him up like Panorama , or Newsnight . Henry was the sweetest man with the biggest heart, but ineffective or lying politicians delivering or defending unfair policies always set him off. ‘Clowns, every one of them,’ he’d grumble as the current affairs programmes ended. ‘That shower of idiots in the government should go invade an uninhabited island and stay there. That’s a show I would watch.’
At which point, Minnie would pause the clacking of her knitting needles and suggest they switch over to Strictly Come Dancing , or maybe a Louis Theroux documentary, then she’d pick her needles up again, click-clack her way through it, until she had a fresh batch of tiny hats for the premature baby ward at the maternity hospital. Or new woolly toppers for the post boxes in the village.
That’s what she’d been doing since 5a.m. this morning, when she’d woken up with the birds. It was one of those strange twists of life, that you didn’t need so much sleep when you got to her age. She could have done with extra hours in the day when she was a young mother, juggling four boys under five. An extra pair of hands would have been useful too. Later, she would have appreciated more time when the boys were teenagers and she was run ragged cooking and washing for them. Or when the grandchildren came along, and she found it impossible to spend enough time with them all, especially as two of her sons made their lives in Canada and one lived down in Cornwall. Four kids, and only one, Eric, had stayed and brought his family up in the city he’d grown up in. Visiting the ones that had left had made for some lovely holidays over the years, right enough. Longer days would have been lovely when she and Henry were lying on sun loungers on a beach in St Ives.
But now? Who needed more hours when – other than chatting to Henry – it was so difficult to fill the time? What should she be doing when she woke up at 5a.m., and then couldn’t fall asleep again until midnight? She must have read every large-print book in the library by now. And there wasn’t an episode of Coronation Street , The Clydeside , River City or EastEnders that hadn’t been watched at least once. In normal weeks, there were the social clubs, the coffee mornings, and her line dancing class in the town hall, but they had all stopped for the festive season. So now it was almost 10a.m. on New Year’s Eve, and she and Henry were on their third episode of Murder, She Wrote , while she put the finishing touches to the post box topper she’d go fit today, in between getting everything ready for tonight’s visit to the restaurant where they’d celebrated Hogmanay for decades.
‘I’ll get it, Henry, love,’ she said, as she picked up the phone handset and cleared her throat. ‘Hello?’ she answered, in the posh voice that was reserved for telephone communications and conversations with councils, customer service departments and cold callers.
The voice on the other end was female. Young. Maybe in her twenties, like her granddaughter, Emmy. That reminded her – she must give Emmy a call and thank her for the lovely Christmas dinner she’d brought over. Such a kind, considerate lass, that one. Eric had popped in too with that new girlfriend of his. Minnie never liked to talk badly of anyone, especially her darling boy, but she had plenty of thoughts on that whole situation and she’d shared them all with Henry. What was Eric thinking? After all those years with lovely Ailish, he just upped and went off with a woman young enough to be his daughter. A disgrace, that’s what it was. And to break Ailish’s heart like that. Minnie had been outraged because she loved Ailish like she would her own daughter. Eric had let them all down so badly. Although, the whole time she was talking to Henry about it, she knew what he was thinking. ‘They’re grown adults and it’s not our business, Minnie. Best we just stay out of it.’ Minnie had pursed her lips and knitted up a storm to take her mind off it.
The voice on the phone cut through her thoughts. ‘Mrs Ryan? Hello, this is Katie from Gino’s Trattoria. We’re just calling all our customers who’ve reserved tables tonight to confirm the booking. Can I just check that you still want us to hold your table?’
‘We’ve been coming there on Hogmanay for the last fifty years, dear. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
‘That’s great. We’ll see you tonight then,’ Katie replied, in a soft Glasgow brogue.
Minnie wasn’t sure she’d ever met this caller, but after a lifetime of being Gino’s regular customers, she considered most of the staff to be family friends.
Replacing the handset, she bustled on into the kitchen, shouting, ‘Right, Henry, I’ve told them we’ll be there, so you’d better get your glad rags ready.’
There was a tug of sadness, as she thought how this year would be so different from bygone times. That’s what happened when family traditions fell away for whatever reason. They’d always had one of the biggest tables in the restaurant, what with their four sons in the early days, and then Eric, Ailish, Emmy and all their friends as the years went on.
Gino’s restaurant had been one of the best discoveries of their lives, and one that happened purely by accident. What year would it have been? She conjured up an image of them all in her mind that first night, and tried to picture their boys and their ages. Oh yes, the old memory was still all there. She couldn’t tell you what shopping she brought home yesterday, or where she’d left her slippers last night, but she could tell you every word of her and Henry’s favourite song when they were courting, ‘Be My Baby’ by the Ronettes. It must have been about 1972, because their eldest, Charlie, would have been around eight, which would have made the twins, Robert and Roger, seven, and their youngest, Eric, would have been six. Sometimes she wondered how on earth she’d managed to have four boys by the time she’d turned twenty-one, but back in those days… well, she chuckled to herself. She’d married Henry when they were both seventeen, they didn’t have a telly or any heating in their two-bedroom tenement, and they did like a cuddle.
That night, Hogmanay, all the boys were still awake way past their bedtime, as they’d promised them that just this once they could stay up for the bells. In Scotland, they still used that phrase ‘the bells’ to describe the stroke of midnight on the 31 st of December, but back then it actually had meaning, as all the church bells would ring out and the whole city would come alive with people in the streets, cheering, dancing and celebrating the new year. Especially in their part of town. Their two-bedroom tenement was just off Ingram Street in the City Centre, not the most salubrious of areas back then, but they made the most of every opportunity to bring a bit of cheer and joy to their lives.
Minnie didn’t care that they didn’t have much. They had enough to get by, and she was grateful that Henry’s job as a junior planning officer gave them enough money to have the luxury of a separate bedroom for the boys. Most of their friends were living in a one-room-and-kitchen with one or two babies.
It must have been about ten o’clock, when they’d heard the music coming from outside. Other men might have moaned or gone to find the source to get it turned down, but not her Henry. Laughing, he’d pulled her up from their threadbare couch for a dance around the living room, shouting to the boys to join in. The tune was uproariously upbeat, but she didn’t recognise the words that she could make out, so as they’d twirled around the room, she’d guessed where it was coming from.
‘Must be from that new Italian restaurant next door,’ Henry had said, reaching the same conclusion at the same time.
Roger had stopped dancing and was looking out of the window. ‘Dad, there are people dancing outside too.’
Henry had still held her in his arms as he’d turned to see for himself that Roger was right. Outside, on the pavement below, a couple was dancing just as they were, and some of the people milling around them had stopped and were watching, clapping, joining in.
‘Shall we go down?’ Henry had asked, that familiar mischievous grin on his handsome face.
Minnie had hesitated for a second. ‘But the boys… it’s late.’
He’d squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s Hogmanay! One late night won’t do them any harm.’ Then he’d sealed the deal by adding, ‘Might make them sleep later in the morning.’
Minnie hadn’t needed any more persuading. This was the one night of the year that her own parents had let her stay up late for as long as she could remember.
They’d grabbed warm coats for the excited boys, hats, scarfs and gloves, and off they went down three flights of stairs, all of them giggling and trying to sing along with the tune. When they’d got outside, they formed a circle, holding each other’s home-knitted gloves as they spun around in time to the music, their breath making clouds in the cold air.
When the tune had finished, the couple whom they’d seen dancing from the window stopped and the man had greeted the gathering.
‘Come in, come in! The restaurant is open and a drink is on the house!’ he’d exclaimed, his accent a melodic mix of Italian and Glaswegian inflections.
A few people from the crowd took him up on the offer, a few more drifted off. Breathless from the dancing, Henry and Minnie were about to do the same and return home, when the man stopped them. ‘Ah, my neighbours! I see you and these boys every day when you’re passing. I have a son too, but he’s much younger than all your big strong lads. Come inside, meet my wife and celebrate with us.’
Henry’s delighted gaze had met hers, waiting for an agreement, which, of course, she gave with an amused roll of the eyes. ‘Go on then.’
The man had cheered, the boys joined in, and before Minnie could catch her breath, she was swept inside, to a room with whitewashed walls and wooden benches and tables on a stone floor, and the most mouth-watering, delicious aroma Minnie had ever experienced. She was surprised to see that the only people already inside were the ones who’d come from the street. The place must have been empty and that’s why this man and his wife had gone outside to dance.
Their host began passing around glasses, helped by his dancing partner, who Minnie now realised was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. They were probably around the same age, but Minnie could only dream of having those huge brown eyes and the jet black hair that went all the way down to her waist.
‘Alicia, come meet our new friends,’ he’d beckoned her, and she’d sashayed over to them carrying a tray of drinks. ‘Please, tell me your names,’ he’d asked them.
Henry was already holding out his hand. ‘I’m Henry and this is my wife, Minnie. And these are our boys, Charlie, Roger, Robert and Eric. We live on the top floor next door and it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
Their host shook his hand with glee and vigour. ‘And you, my friend. I’m Gino, and this is my beautiful Alicia. Welcome to my restaurant. I hope it will be the first of many times that you come here.’
It certainly was, Minnie mused now, as she popped a splash of milk into her tea, before stirring it. As she treated herself to the last mince pie from a box Emmy had brought over at Christmas, she felt another little tug of sentimentality.
That night. they’d all sang and danced, and they’d partied until the bells rang out at midnight and beyond. And it had been the start of something wonderful. The following summer, they’d moved out of the city centre to a suburb on the South Side. Money had been tight for a long time after that, but every year, they managed to save and scrape together enough for the whole family to go to Gino’s on Hogmanay. It had given them so many of the very best memories of their lives and it was a tradition she and Henry had carried on till this day.
Tonight, well, it would only be a table for two. But Minnie Ryan was determined to enjoy it like it would be her last.