Chapter 33
‘Dad’s been given the all-clear to come home!’ Imogen announced. Given it was only a little after eleven o’clock in the morning, the pub wasn’t heaving, but Mr Kenny was there, and the way he shot out the door on his scooter on hearing that suggested word would soon spread with the good news.
Liam Kelly was coming home.
Hannah danced happily behind the bar while Grace beamed from ear to ear, calling back to her sister, ‘That’s brilliant, Imo!’
‘They’ll be home in an hour or so. I’ll tell Nan she’d best bring that potato-and-kale soup to a simmer,’ Imogen replied.
‘Yippee!’ Grace weakly punched the air.
‘At least we talked her into making soda bread,’ Imogen lamented. ‘Poor Daddy with the low-cholesterol margarine she’s after buying slathered on his. It’s not the same as butter.’
‘I’m looking forward to sampling some healthier options around home.’
Both sisters gave Hannah short shrift on that one.
‘If you could ask Kitty whether she could spare a bowl of soup and a slice of that bread for Emerald Bay’s most eligible bachelor, it would be much appreciated,’ Enda piped up from his usual pew at the bar.
‘I’ll see what I can do, Enda.’ Imogen disappeared to the kitchen, leaving Hannah to unload the glass washer.
Grace, meanwhile, felt rather useless from where she was sitting at the table closest to the open fireplace’s empty hearth. The crutches on loan from the hospital were within easy reach, and her leg was elevated on two chairs pushed together. She’d put an ice pack on her calf, which was still so swollen you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a leg of ham from Dermot Molloy’s Quality Meats, despite her having popped two anti-inflammatories with her breakfast. Mam had made her a temporary bed in the family room to save her from having to bum shuffle up and down the stairs, and she was rather enjoying being waited on hand and foot. Her mam, nan and sisters all insisted she was a hero for running down that track in search of a phone signal. Although she suspected the novelty of fetching and carrying for her was beginning to wear off where Shannon, Imogen and Hannah were concerned. Hannah had all but thrown the bag of cheese-and-onion crisps she’d requested half an hour ago over at her. As such, she’d decided to hold five on requesting another brew from Imogen, not wanting to push her luck.
The thing was, she wasn’t a hero. Grace hadn’t breathed a word of how she’d argued with her dad, setting events in motion. And while the vividness of that terrifying flight to the hospital where she’d pleaded for God to save her daddy had lost its sharpness, she fancied it would be a long time before the guilt lessened. It was her fault for keeping on at him. Some things weren’t for her to know, and she’d had plenty of time to think things over, concluding that it didn’t matter whether her dad had a grudge against Chris’s father. Sure, hadn’t she been starting to feel like Ross from Friends, with his ‘We were on a break’, having repeated that she and Chris were housemates only and he had a girlfriend until she was blue in the face? It was high time she listened to herself.
It was also her fault she was immobilised, not daring to move from where she’d been told to park up for the day unless nature called. Kitty Kelly was under strict instructions from Mam to ensure Grace rested her leg, and all the Kelly girls knew their nan had eyes in the back of her head, so even if she was busy in the kitchen, she’d somehow know if Grace were to flout her orders.
She turned her attention back to the open laptop resting on her lap. Dad was going to be all right; that was the main thing, and at least she’d been using her recuperation time wisely by working on the branding she’d promised the Shamrockers. The ticket sales for Emerald Grooves had been rolling in thanks to word of mouth and the power of social media. At this rate, they’d be looking at a sell-out concert, and Clara had been so excited when Grace relayed this that she’d burst into tears, which had then set Grace off. Ava’s messaging and FaceTiming had helped while away what otherwise might have been a long few days with Dad in the hospital, too. Grace was glad she hadn’t hotfooted it home, although it had taken a lot of reassuring that it wouldn’t serve any purpose, because she would be fine, and so would Dad. They’d settled on her and Shane coming back for the festival instead.
Life couldn’t be placed indefinitely on hold, Grace thought as an email from a client pinged in. She’d already had to reshuffle various meetings and couldn’t afford to let her clients down again. She needed to get on a flight back to London.
Work aside, she missed Chris, because they might just be housemates, and he may have a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean she could switch off how she felt about him. He’d been in touch seconds after she’d messaged him to tell him what had happened with her dad – or the abbreviated version of being out for a ramble when he’d collapsed. Hearing the concern in his voice had been touching, but it had only served to make her miss him more. She was desperate to see him in his boxers again each morning, bleary-eyed as he staggered for the bathroom.
Now there was a thought, and for a moment, Grace forgot the Instagram post she’d been working on for the band, drifting off into a salacious daydream whereby she was back at the flat, and she couldn’t possibly make it up the stairs without help. Enter Chris, rugged and sexy in his black T-shirt and jeans, sweeping her off her feet – literally – and into his arms to carry her up them, all the while gazing deeply into her eyes. When they reached the landing, instead of gently putting her down, he strode masterfully over to her bedroom and kicked the door open with his foot.
‘Grace!’
‘What?’ Grace snapped, annoyed given she was just about to get to the good bit, and it took a moment to focus on Hannah standing over her, hands on hips.
‘Nan wants to know if you need a fresh ice pack?’
‘No.’ She moderated her tone. ‘Would you tell her I’m grand? Thanks, Han.’
Hannah hovered. ‘What were you thinking about? You were miles away.’
‘Nothing.’
Hannah raised an eyebrow, picking Grace’s cup and saucer off the table. ‘Sorry, I don’t believe you. I think it was a certain lead singer in a band with a name not too dissimilar to our pub you were fantasising about just now.’
‘Cop yourself on, Hannah!’ Grace knew her face was flaming at being caught out. ‘Sure, I was thinking about Nan’s soup, wondering what it’ll be like.’
‘Soup, you say?’ Hannah’s eyebrow twitched.
‘Soup.’
‘What are you two on about?’ Imogen had materialised alongside Hannah.
Hannah was quick off the mark. ‘Grace here is after having a hot fantasy about a bowl of potato-and-kale soup and a certain Chris Dorrance. She’d better watch she doesn’t get burned.’
Grace was about to use a bad word when the door to the pub burst open. The three Kelly sisters turned in time to watch as a breathless Isla Mullins burst through the door, along with what looked to be the entire village of Emerald Bay.
‘Close your mouths, girls, and get blowing these up,’ Isla instructed, tossing over a packet of brightly coloured balloons. ‘Carmel, put those club sandwiches on the bar top there, and, Eileen, you’re in charge of hanging the streamers.’
‘How’s a man supposed to raise a glass to his publican’s good health if there’s no one manning the bar?’ Enda Dunne shouted over.
All thoughts of potato-and-kale soup and naughty shenanigans were banished, because there was to be a hooley to celebrate Liam Kelly’s homecoming!