53. Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Three
Cillian walked down the stairs, unable to keep the smile off his face.
From the kitchen came the sound of lively chatter, which to the untrained ear might have sounded like an argument.
It was the sound of his childhood, thick Dublin accents berating each other, punctuated by bursts of laughter. The sound of home.
Cillian’s mother mock-glared when he walked into the kitchen. ‘About time, too,’ she said.
‘Decided to have a lie-in, did you?’ asked his dad. ‘I mean, why not? It’s not as if there’s anything important happening today.’ He beamed.
‘Give him a break.’ Kitty handed Cillian a cup of coffee fresh from the pot. ‘It’s only just gone seven.’
‘And I’ve already showered,’ said Cillian, taking a grateful sip from the cup.
‘Well, I suppose that’s something,’ said his mum. ‘Now let me get a good look at you.’ She walked over to him, held him at arm’s length, a frown covering her face, then broke into a smile and pulled him into a hug so tight he could barely breathe. ‘Goodness me, it’s grand to have you back.’
Cillian didn’t need to ask what she meant. ‘No criticism of my appearance?’ he asked instead. ‘You’d better watch out, or people will wonder if you’re ill.’
His mother huffed and pushed him away with a slap on the arm.
‘I didn’t want to spoil the mood on your sister’s wedding day, but seeing as you asked …
You’re too thin, your hair is lank, and you’ve lost weight in all the wrong places.
What you need, my boy, is a hearty home-cooked meal, the love of a good woman, or probably both. ’
‘Thank you for the diagnosis and prescription.’ Cillian raised an eyebrow over his coffee.
‘You asked.’ His mother placed her hands on her hips. ‘And I don’t mind telling you how glad I am you came to your senses about that dreadful model. She wouldn’t have known the first thing about feeding you up.’
The brief, and doubtless premature, thought flashed through Cillian’s head to check out May’s cooking skills before introducing her to his mum.
‘Good to see you, son.’ His dad stepped forward to slap Cillian on the back. ‘Ignore your mother, although as usual, she’s right. Let’s hope you manage to fill out your suit today.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be OK.’ Cillian shook his head. ‘If I’m not, well, baggy is coming back into fashion.’
A knock on the door gave him the perfect excuse to escape the scrutiny of his parents. He rushed to answer it.
‘Hi.’ May stood on the doorstep, a large white box clasped in her arms.
‘Hi.’ Cillian swallowed hard at the sight of her with her hair and makeup done. She was a polished version of herself rather than the overly made-up women he was used to. She looked beautiful.
May frowned. ‘Why are you staring? Does my hair look stupid?’
Gently curled and framing her face, her hair looked anything but stupid. Cillian cleared his throat. Now was not the time for words to fail him. ‘No. You look amazing, May.’
‘Thank you,’ she mumbled. Her flushed cheeks added to the effect of the hair and makeup and caused her blue eyes to pop from her tanned skin. ‘I’m here with the buttonholes.’
‘Right, OK, thanks.’ Why was he so tongue-tied? He summoned his manners. ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee? My parents arrived late last night, so it’s a little chaotic. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.’
‘I can’t.’ May handed over the box. ‘I need to get back to Alice. Tell them I’m looking forward to meeting them later at the wedding.’
‘Will do,’ said Cillian, and gave an awkward nod as she turned to leave.
He carried the box into the kitchen, where his mother asked, ‘Who was that?’
‘May dropping off the buttonholes.’
‘Who’s May when she’s at home?’ asked his dad.
‘Alice’s sister,’ explained Kitty. ‘She’s been planning the wedding with Cillian.’
‘She has, has she? And is she another one of those groupies?’ His mother wrinkled her nose.
‘No.’ Kitty laughed. ‘Quite the opposite. Cillian had to work hard for once to get her to like him.’
‘Is that right?’ His mother raised an eyebrow. ‘I like the sound of May already. Is she pretty?’
‘Beautiful.’ The word shot out of Cillian’s mouth before he could consider the implications.
His mother jumped off her stool, walked closer and fixed him with a stare. ‘Beautiful, is she? And would I approve?’
‘Mam, I can call a girl beautiful without wanting to either bed her or marry her.’
‘Is that so?’ asked his mother with a smirk.
‘I can read you like a book, my boy. I’m intrigued to meet this May.
’ She clapped her hands. ‘Enough of all that. This is Kitty’s day.
You, my son, have been the centre of attention enough to last a lifetime.
’ She made shooing gestures with her hand.
‘You and Dad make yourselves scarce upstairs and start getting yourselves ready. The hair and makeup lady will be here soon, and this needs to be a boy-free zone.’ She swung to Kitty. ‘What time is little Emily arriving?’
Kitty checked her watch. ‘Any minute,’ she said. ‘She’s so excited to get her hair done, although we’ve drawn the line at makeup.’
‘Quite right, too. Now scram, you two.’ Mam made more shooing gestures. ‘I’ve got a bride to get ready.’