Chapter 39
ROSIE
It was early on the morning of the wedding and Rosie and Grace were in the office, going through the list, marking off what to do and what had been done.
Grace had arranged the two fans to point straight at her.
‘I’m in a cold air vortex,’ she said, her hair streaming out behind her as though she was on a ship, ‘and it’s wonderful.
’ She turned to Rosie. ‘So, spill. What the hell is going on? I mean, Patrick? And Martin? And then that Kerry-Anne woman? And Kate? Francois was bewildered. He said, “Zat Patrick is a very bizzzy man… What ze ’ell?”’ Grace laughed.
‘Oh, it’s nothing…’
Rosie was faced with a future of much the same.
Unless she propelled and compelled herself out of her comfort zone, nothing would happen.
Except she was totally aware that she’d had a chance last night to do something and she’d bottled it.
She should at least have talked to Patrick, but she’d been so taken aback, she’d retreated again.
And yet, to see him coming towards her, that intensity in his eyes, his lips on her ear, those words…
she could barely breathe when she thought about it.
But she was stuck, afraid to leave the hotel. She was hiding away behind these walls. The rest of her life stretched yawningly ahead of her.
‘What did he say to you?’ pressed Grace. ‘It looked like he was asking you to run away with him or something.’ She laughed. She turned to Rosie, as her smile faded. ‘He didn’t? Did he? Oh my God, he did! He did ask you to run away with him! And you said? What? You said no?’
‘Of course I said no! We had a fling ten years ago and I was so young then! I don’t just run away with people because they ask me.’
‘But… you could at least contemplate it?’
‘I did! And I said no!’ Rosie’s voice had slipped up an octave and she was back to her shrill alter ego, as though she was losing control of her life, desperately trying to retain composure but the chaos kept creeping in.
‘Grace, it’s complicated,’ Rosie tried to explain.
‘What can I say? Anyway, he’s going and that’s it.
We won’t see each other again…’ She thought she had kept her voice bright and breezy, but Grace’s ears twitched.
‘You love him, don’t you?’
‘I don’t…’
‘You do.’ Grace folded her arms, looking at her. ‘Admit it.’
‘Okay, I do. But I don’t know him. I barely know him.
I knew him. But I don’t know him. Not any more.
Well, I do know him, but not in any real or meaningful way.
But actually, yes, I do know him in a real and meaningful way.
I understand him and like him and feel for him.
It’s like it’s no time since we were in love.
Nothing has changed. Nothing. And I have to say goodbye all over again.
So yes, I love him. But it’s irrelevant.
We’re not meant to be together. And I promise you, Grace, I will find someone who is available and preferably non-toxic and who lives in the vicinity.
I will go online dating or line-dancing or join hiking groups, whatever it takes.
I will find someone.’ She paused. ‘If it makes you happy.’
‘The question is, Rosie O’Malley, will it make you happy? Hmm?’
Rosie knew that she didn’t have the bandwidth or capacity to answer this. ‘Can we not talk about this ever again? Please? We have a wedding to run. Let’s get through today, and then tomorrow it will be all over and real life can resume.’
‘Really boring life can resume when you’re back in those navy skirt suits, when you’re worrying about the bills again and whether coffee has been put in the tea flask again for the Small Insurance Brokers of Ireland conference we have that day.’
‘Yes, Grace, you’ve described my life perfectly.
And you know something, it’s a nice life.
And yes it does annoy me when coffee is in the tea flask because you can’t ever go back to pure tea again, it’s forever toffee which is disgusting.
But please, let’s never speak of any of this – or him – again.
’ Now her voice was wobbling for definite and Grace, thankfully, took pity on her.
She moved one of the fans slightly so Rosie could feel the blast. They sat in silence for a moment.
‘Sorry,’ said Grace.
‘It’s all right. I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re right. I just don’t know what to do. It’s like I need to choose the known or the unknown and the unknown is terrifying.’
‘That’s the point of it, I think,’ said Grace, gently.
‘You and Francois seemed very cosy,’ said Rosie, to change the subject.
‘We were.’ Grace looked pleased with herself.
‘I am so done with Irish men. It’s Continentals from now on.
So much more sophisticated. Francois says he wouldn’t feed sliced white bread to ducks and he thinks tinned baked beans are an abomination.
’ She put on a remarkably good Francois impression and then sighed.
‘I never thought a man talking about his hatred for baked beans could be so attractive. He’s asked me out tomorrow evening, when the wedding is over.
We’re going to the wine bar in the village.
’ Grace did a little jig in her chair with happiness.
‘He’s got so many ideas for the hotel. He thinks we should be offering so much more to our guests.
Make Cliff Top a real foodie destination.
He loves it, says it’s the most beautiful hotel. You should talk to him.’
‘Maybe.’ There was too much going on. All she wanted to think about was Patrick but concentrating on him was a challenge after everything that had happened. Her head was all over the place.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Grace.
‘I don’t know… it’s just that… everything feels a bit chaotic.’
‘Are you talking about the chaos of the wedding or the chaos of your heart?’
Rosie laughed. ‘Both.’
‘Well…’ Grace smiled at her. ‘The chaos of the wedding is all manageable. And everything is going to be fine. But as for the chaos of your heart…’ She paused.
‘Go on.’
‘Well, in my experience chaos is like a wave you have to ride. You go with it. I mean, have you ever met an unhappy surfer?’
‘I actually don’t know many. The waves in Sandycove are not like those in Kilrush.’
Grace rolled her eyes. ‘Pedantry is the destroyer of all whimsical musings. But basically it is chaos where the joy is, chaos is where the fun is. You’re just going to have to embrace it. Go and have fun. See where chaos takes you.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever embrace it.’
‘But first it’s taking us to the flower arch to make sure it’s still standing. And that the altar looks perfect.’ Grace checked the time. ‘Right, it’s 9.30 a.m., we have less than five hours before the wedding. Let’s get cracking.’
As they walked down to the marquee, Grace talked excitedly about all the plans for the next weddings and how to make them bigger and better and all the new events and activities that she thought they should introduce as part of their wedding package.
‘I’m thinking honey gathering and perhaps a disco class, so everyone can learn a group dance, cocktail making, that kind of thing. Nessa had a good idea, she was saying we could buy bikes for our guests to use. Electric ones. That hill to the village is a killer.’
The marquee had been relaid with more tables and chairs and there were even more flowers and the caterers and florists were all hard at work.
‘Do you think they are all going to be too hot in the tent?’ asked Rosie.
‘We’ll open the tent flaps, have it overlooking the sea,’ said Grace, totally in charge.
‘And then for the ceremony, I think we bring iced water, with fresh mint. Your dad is picking some herbs for me now, and he said about putting fresh strawberries into the water as well. And we should provide a canopy. Could we ask someone to create something out of a parachute fabric?’ She looked at her watch.
‘Call Martin. He’s the only man for the job.
’ She gave Rosie a funny look. ‘I like Martin,’ she said.
‘He’s a catch. Good-looking, practical, dealt with Laurence really well.
Kind. Loves his mother. Saw him taking a thorn out of the paw of a kitten the other day… ’
Rosie laughed. ‘Stop it, okay?’ She phoned Martin, worried that he might be a little strange with her after last night.
‘Morning, Rosie! How’s the form?’
Good old Martin, she was relieved he wasn’t going to make it remotely awkward. ‘We’re worried that there is no shelter over the seating area outside the marquee, where we have the altar…’
‘And you need a canopy of some sort?’ He paused, as though thinking it through. ‘And I take it, it’s a rush job?’
‘By 2 p.m.?’
He laughed. ‘Leave it with me.’
She ended the call to face Grace.
‘Now, he’s a good man,’ said Grace. ‘Honestly, if only I could be so flaithiúlach with men. Good men shouldn’t be discarded so easily. I hope you don’t regret it, that’s all.’
‘Rosie! Rosie!’ The twins were running along the grass, dressed in matching shorts, T-shirts and Velcro sandals. ‘Can we go for another swim?’
‘We’ve got our togs on under our clothes,’ said Isabelle. ‘So we can be in the sea quicker than quick!’
The grass was a little sloped as it neared the cliff edge and the twins picked up speed, their tiny feet scurrying below them, shrieking, and then, to stop themselves from going completely over the edge, launched onto Rosie. They picked themselves up, admiring the set-up.
‘It’s like a church,’ breathed Isabelle, impressed.
‘It’s nicer than a church because it’s got no roof,’ said Killian.
‘And it has sweets.’ Isabelle picked up a pink net of sugared almonds. ‘Could we have one? They have lots and lots.’
‘I think they have some leftovers,’ said Grace. ‘You two can share one.’
‘We have a bucket filled with heart-shaped stones,’ said Isabelle. ‘We could put them on each seat.’
‘Some of them don’t look like hearts, though,’ admitted Killian. ‘Just funny-shaped stones.’
‘But they are heart enough,’ said Isabelle. ‘Isn’t that right, Rosie, heart enough is enough?’
Rosie smiled at her. ‘It’s enough.’
‘Dad is not allowed to leave the house,’ said Killian. ‘He’s under house arrest, he says, but Mum says he can’t leave until he paints the bathroom. But he says he doesn’t want to be trapped in a house with two children…’
‘He means us,’ explained Isabelle. ‘So he said that we could come and find you and you would mind us.’
‘Come on, let’s have our swim and then I’ll have to get back to work,’ said Rosie, before turning back to Grace. ‘By the way, I like Francois’s ideas. I’ll go and talk to him.’
‘And my wedding ideas? Can we do more? Because I can’t wait to get started!’
Rosie nodded. ‘Yes, of course… let’s do it.’ She smiled at Grace. ‘You know everyone is so talented in the team and I wish I were too.’
‘Mrs Juniper says you should never put yourself down,’ said Isabelle. ‘That means saying not nice things to yourself and I think you are talented. I mean, not the most talented one, not like Bertie or Maureen… or Granddad. He’s an actual genius. He fixed my bike. And he made a beehive, remember?’
‘And Martin Moore is talented,’ said Killian. ‘He fixed the hotel after the electricity disappeared?’
‘But you are talented,’ said Isabelle. ‘You are too, Grace, at…’ She paused.
‘At what?’ said Grace.
Isabelle was still thinking. ‘At wearing kaftans,’ she said, presently. ‘That’s your greatest talent.’
‘And making the cushions look nice,’ said Killian, smiling at Grace, as though he was giving her the biggest compliment.
‘I’m so flattered,’ said Grace, sincerely. ‘Thanks, guys.’
Rosie held the twins’ hands, half-listening to them talk and thinking about the hotel and what she had done over the last decade.
It had only been when she’d relied on other people that things had really worked: Grace joining the team to take on weddings and other events and, of course, Bertie was in charge of front of house and Teddy was, she supposed, back of house.
And now Francois with his foodie ambitions.
They were slowly making more money. Her mother’s hotel had been ahead of its time, with family-style dining, the home-from-home atmosphere, but these days it was so much about service and business and being commercially viable.
She hadn’t been the most successful hotelier ever, she wasn’t innately talented in the world of hospitality.
She had driven herself on, focused on not letting her mother down or her dream to fail.
But it hadn’t, because her mother was more than just the hotel.
She was still with them, part of them all.
She was there in Nessa and Rosie and in the faces of Killian and Isabelle.
And the hotel was in good hands, there was a brilliant team who kept it ticking away.
Perhaps it was time for a change and to face the unknown?
And perhaps it was time to find out from Lucinda why she had said what she said.