Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Donal?! W-w-what? What have you done?’
Donal looks completely different. Unrecognisable really.
‘Hi.’ He gives me a little wave. A fluttering of his long fingers. His expression confused.
‘Hi.’ Slowly, I raise my hand halfway in the air like a defeated Indian chief.
He’s dressed in a sharp, stylish, beautifully cut black suit with crisp white shirt and a black tie.
But his long red hair is no more. Now it’s cut into a tight crop.
It’s longer than a military buzzcut, but only just. I stare harder because I can’t quite believe what my eyes are showing me.
And it’s only now that I also notice that he is clean shaven.
His thick, wild beard is gone! Donal has cheekbones so high it makes him look completely different now that they are no longer hidden.
He’s unbelievably handsome. Not that he wasn’t before, I realise.
But even in the craziness of this bizarre moment, I recognise that every one of those five Beyond Looks dates that ran out on Donal would not have done so if this was his profile picture!
‘Fu—’ Belinda realises her surroundings, checks herself.
‘Hoooooold on a holy-moly-moment! Don’t tell us this is your Grace, bro?
’ She steps into view beside Donal, staring at me, aghast. Even with the horrified expression, she is a vision in her wedding gown as the crystals catch the light flooding in, and sparkle like stars.
The organist stops playing. You could hear a pin drop in the church.
‘Are you okay?’ Donal locks eyes with me. Still kind. Still caring. He is the definition of maturity, this man.
‘Eh . . . I-I’m . . .’ I clutch the pointed, carved bench-end for dear life, like it’s my lifejacket.
The gaping heads suddenly all swivel the other way, like it’s synchronised drama, as the priest now steps off the altar.
He makes his way swiftly down the aisle, his soft shoes squeaking on the parquet floor, his vestment robe billowing lowly out behind him.
We all watch him as he speaks in hushed tones into Amanda’s ear.
‘Gracie?’
I dart to look at Logan.
‘Grace?’
I dart back to Donal.
‘This is batshit,’ Belinda declares correctly.
‘Of all the gin joints in all the world . . .’ Denise says.
‘Not the time, Denise,’ Kathleen pipes in.
‘Grace, we need you to step outside a minute so we can restart the weddin’, like.’ Amanda glares at me, the priest by her side.
‘Yeah, come on, move outside,’ Denise throws at me now, unable to make eye contact with me.
‘Girl! You’re Peter R.’s Grace? Well I’ll be damned!’ Kathleen’s arms are crossed and her tone is kinder, but I’m beyond confused.
‘I’m so sorry about all this.’ Pushing myself off the pointed carved bench-end, I rush to the side door.
Without thinking I dip my index finger into the holy-water fountain and bless myself, then scurry outside into the glaring sunshine.
I’m momentarily blinded after the shadowiness of the church.
I perch my hands over my eyebrows and see I’ve been followed closely by the entire bridal party, and Logan, out the front doors.
The gravel crunches under them, like soldiers marching in battle.
Then they surround me, all standing in a circle. My stomach lurches.
‘I had no idea . . . I’m . . .’ My warbling is interrupted by the arrival of the priest.
‘Folks.’ He gives a warm, reassuring smile to me.
‘I’ll just give you five minutes to compose yourselves then we need to reconvene.
We have a christening at two o’clock. Please, be respectful of our surroundings,’ he tells us, his hands clasped together as he walks back in and shuts the church doors gently.
We all hear a low rumble of his voice inside as he assures the congregation that the wedding will re-commence shortly.
‘Can someone tell me what the effing you-know-what is going on here?’ Belinda’s voice is a raised whisper spoken through gritted teeth.
Donal steps in.
‘Everyone just calm down, okay. Wouldn’t be a Kearney wedding without a bit of drama, right? Grace –’ Donal nods at me ‘– I’m now realising, is also the designer of your incredibly beautiful wedding outfits?’ He looks at each of his four sisters.
They all nod.
All I can do is nod, too.
‘Right, got it. So, I got a shock inside because, as Belinda rightly guessed, Grace is also the woman I was telling you all about last night when I got back from that divorce party.’ Again, Donal’s face is unreadable. ‘The woman I . . . liked.’
‘Oh, fuck a duck!’ Belinda slaps her hand over her mouth, lowers her voice.
‘It’s all comin’ back to me now! You! It is YOU!
’ She jabs her long pink fingernail at me.
‘Peter R. was your date! You told us all you were using some poor guy, that there was no way he was of interest to you – not the one, I remember you said – to take to a party to get back with your ex! That was our Peter R.!’ Belinda looks raging.
‘Take it easy, there,’ Logan says to her, stepping in front of her, standing with his legs apart.
‘Get out of my way, you, with yer Gordon Ramsay head on ya!’ Belinda turns on him.
‘Yeah, yer hair looks like Gordon Ramsey shouted at it and it froze in fear!’ Denise backs her up.
‘There’s more gel in that hair than on the entire shelf in Superdrug,’ Amanda adds for good measure.
‘All right, enough. Let’s just . . .’ Donal tries, but Belinda’s on a roll.
‘You also said you might go there, maybe, if you were desperate! Cheek of ya!’ Belinda and her sisters stand shoulder to shoulder now. ‘Ya can forget that coffee and Rocky Road, hun. Shove it up your arse!’
Oh she did not just say that. I want the ground to swallow me up. ‘No I . . . I-I didn’t . . . I . . .’ I can’t string a thought together never mind a defence.
‘Peter R. really liked you. You told him you really liked him, too. Why were you lying to him? Why were you leading him on? Why would you do that to a guy as nice as him?’ Kathleen shakes her head at me, her arms crossed again, her expression puzzled and sad at the same time.
‘I didn’t know he was your Peter R.’ I’m dazed and confused and, I’m not going to lie, I’m scared.
‘Yeah. That’s me.’ Donal puts his hand up. The white of his shirt cuff peeps out, his index finger bent in the air, his link bracelet slides down his arm.
‘Come on, Gracie, this is mental. Let’s go.’ Logan tries to lead me away by my elbow, but I dig my Scholl’s into the gravel and stay put.
‘Why did you tell me your name was Donal?’ I say.
Despite this awful situation, Donal remains the personification of calm. ‘Because it is Donal,’ he says matter-of-factly with a shrug.
‘So why . . . why do they call you Peter R?’ I try to pull my arm free from Logan, but he holds on tightly.
‘None of yer business,’ Belinda tells me as I finally wriggle myself out of Logan’s elbow grasp.
‘They started it seven years ago,’ Donal says.
‘And the name just stuck.’ A higher rise of his slender shoulders in his sharp suit jacket.
‘They all went to see Peter Rabbit in The Savoy and thought Domhnall Gleeson looked like me, and so they all started called me Peter R. when they got home. It amused them. It didn’t bother me.
’ A muscle in his face twitches. ‘I was Ed S. – Ed Sheeran – for a while and . . . who was that other one?’ He clicks his fingers, turns to his sisters.
‘Damian L.,’ Denise answers a bit more meekly now.
‘Yeah, I was Damien Lewis for a bit, too. Homeland was popular with them. So, depends on what they’re watching and if the actor has red hair . . .’ Donal trails off.
‘I didn’t know . . . I . . .’ I stare at the gravel.
‘How would you?’ He shrugs. But there’s empathy there, I can hear it.
‘I can’t believe this.’
‘Bizarre, all right.’ Donal toes the gravel with his shiny dress shoe. ‘But look, sure, listen—’
I don’t let him finish. ‘Look, Belinda,’ I say, turning to her. ‘I did tell him . . . it’s not what it seems, I did tell him about Logan. I wanted someone to come to the party with me so I didn’t have to face Logan alone, but that was all before I got to know Donal . . .’
‘I can’t look at ya, hun.’ She turns away from me, so I turn back to Donal.
‘Daniella already broke his heart – he doesn’t need it broken again.’ Kathleen says.
I remember our conversation, but Donal called his ex Ella, said his sister was there when she broke up with him in Wagamama . . . Oh God, I think. I told the Kearney sisters about still being in love with my ex. What was it I had said to Belinda? ‘We never get over our first loves.’
‘Gracie, what the hell is all this? Are you coming with me or not?’ Logan pipes up again. My first love. I’m pretty mortified that he’s hearing all this.
I look at him and frown. ‘How did you find me here?’
‘I rushed over to our flat first thing. I . . . I remembered I still had my key . . . Mia was there, she said you’d just left in a taxi.
She wouldn’t tell me where . . .’ Logan pauses, takes a dramatic breath, eyeballs his attentive audience like he’s delivering a monologue on stage.
‘Then I saw the address 141 Stella Gardens scribbled on the piece of paper on the kitchen table. I ran all the way to Ringsend and a neighbour gave me the name of the church.’ He’s using the slow-speed technique, voice getting faster.
‘It took a lot to track you down, to do what I did in there! I proposed in public, for crying out loud. That took courage.’ Logan drops his head into his hands, drags his fingers through his hair.
‘Look, enough!’ He throws his hand above his head, slowly lowers it.
‘I’ve said my piece. So what’s it to be?
’ He’s also had enough, I can tell. Didn’t take long.
‘Jaysus, were ya selling tickets to that show?’ Denise says, after a long pause where we are all just staring at Logan.
Before I can say anything, Donal takes a long stride towards me. I can hardly believe how gorgeous he looks in the sharp black suit, with the tight haircut and a clean shave. Amanda reads my mind.
‘Bet ya wouldn’t need to be desperate now! He looks like Bradley bleedin’ Cooper!’
‘That’s it! Bradley C.!’ Kathleen calls out. ‘Super guy, can do one of the best cat cows I’ve ever seen on the mat.’
‘He’s not a ginge,’ Amanda says shaking her head.
Donal shrugs at his sisters. ‘Enough, girls, c’mon now. Grace, what do you want to do?’ he asks me calmly. ‘Do whatever it is you want to do. Do you want to go home with Logan?’
‘No,’ I say, my lip quivering. I pull at the string on my turquoise wraparound dress.
‘No?!’ Logan fires the word at me like a bullet leaving his mouth.
Donal ignores him. ‘Do you want me to call you a cab?’ he asks.
I stay focused on him.
‘No, I don’t,’ I tell him.
‘So you’re the same guy from Mia’s party?’ Logan looks Donal over. ‘Christ, dude, you look so fucking different cleaned up. You’re like a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy makeover.’
‘How does he know Peter R.?’ Belinda, confused, fires the question at all of us.
‘He’s the ex, Belinda! Keep up! The one she was kissing last night!’ Denise blurts out. ‘Do ya need me to draw you a bibliography?’
‘Who’d ya think he was? A member of Westlife?’ Amanda fires in.
‘I was NOT kissing Logan, Denise.’ I turn to look at the four sisters now, still gobsmacked that Donal is their brother – the kind man who gave up everything to take care of them when he was a boy. As if I didn’t have reason enough to love him already.
I feel dizzy, but I have to make this all okay. I have to make them listen.