Chapter 34
‘Hello there, Bronagh. Long time no see,’ Maureen chuckled, breezing through the guesthouse door.
She was full of the joys that morning despite the dreary day outside.
A new baby would do that to you. She set the bulging bag of clothes down on the sofa.
Bronagh had left it in Rosi's car the previous day.
Having had the chance to look through the garments earlier that morning—and being thoroughly impressed with them—it seemed only right that she return them to their owner in person.
That was when she realised Bronagh was on the phone.
Mouthing, Sorry, she mimed zipping her lips shut and settled onto the sofa to wait.
Her thoughts drifted back over the morning.
It had begun when she'd opened her eyes and nudged Donal awake, needing him to reassure her that she hadn't dreamt the arrival of baby Luke.
He'd sleepily confirmed she hadn't, whereupon she'd bounced out of bed and marched off to the kitchen with a spring in her step usually reserved for mornings when Donal had given her the glad eye.
Even Pooh had been in good form. His usual morning modus operandi was to cower as she opened the French doors and ordered him outside to do his business.
He wasn't fond of the cooler starts to the day and especially disliked damp grass.
This morning, however, he'd bounded outside, cocking his leg here, there and everywhere with joyous abandon before doing several laps of the garden.
Only then had he pranced back inside for breakfast.
She'd made pancakes for Noah and decided that, seeing as they were celebrating, she and Donal could partake too.
‘We look forward to seeing you on the twenty-fifth, Ms Clements. Thank you. Bye now.’ Bronagh hung up and peered over the top of the desk. ‘Hello there, Nana.’
‘Hello yourself.’
Maureen stood and Bronagh came around from behind the reception desk to greet her with a hug.
‘Yesterday was one out of the box, eh?’ Bronagh remarked. ‘I'm still pinching myself.’
‘I know what you mean. When I woke up this morning, I had to check with Donal whether I'd dreamt it all.’
‘Have you been in to see Rosi and babby Luke this morning?’
‘No. We're giving them a bit of space this morning. Although I've spoken to Rosi. Luke's feeding well and they had a good night. Shay went in first thing and rang to say that once the doctor has seen them, probably sometime in the early afternoon, they can come home.’
‘Ah, she'll be looking forward to getting back to her own bed.’
Maureen nodded. ‘Donal, Noah and I have already been round and given their place a tidy up.’ She shook her head ruefully at the memory of the washing piles.
‘We've put a casserole in the fridge for them to heat up for dinner too.
We thought we'd leave them to settle in today. Noah will go home later.’ She smiled.
‘And he's delighted, of course, to have the day off school. I dare say his fill-in teacher, Mrs Talley, is too. Noah says she smells of onions.’
Bronagh tutted. ‘They don't know they're born, the children of today.
Sure, we had to put up with a lot worse than smelling of onions.
I remember a nun who was a divil with the ruler.
She was forever slapping it down on the desk if you looked as though you weren't paying attention. Woe betide you if your fingers happened to get in the way. One girl—Miriam, I think her name was—got such a fright one day while doodling in her maths book that she wet her knickers.’
‘You're not wrong. Still, we let him lie in this morning. The little love was worn out after all the excitement.’
‘Ah, bless him.’
Maureen glanced at her watch. ‘I dare say he and Donal are eating an ice cream on the seafront about now.’
‘They're game. It's freezing out there today.’
‘Noah says it's never too cold for ice cream. I gave them both the hard word about not sharing any with Pooh. He's not good on anything creamy.’ Maureen's expression darkened at the memory of Rosemary accusing her of feeding Pooh a cream bun. That she had was neither here nor there.
‘Fair play. I'm not too good on creamy things myself.’
‘Now tell me, Bronagh. Have you had any news yourself?’
Bronagh's eyes twinkled. ‘I have.’
‘They accepted!’ Maureen did a little jig on the spot.
‘They did.’ Bronagh filled her in on the moving date.
‘Sure, that’s not far away and you with a wedding to organise as well. You’re to let Donal and me know what we can do to help.’
‘I will. Thanks, Mo. It’s going to be busy all right, but babby Luke wasn’t the only miracle yesterday.
Would you believe Mam agreed to come with us?
She’s always wanted a conservatory, apparently.
And I’ve decided that, as far as the wedding’s concerned, I’ll take it on the chin and leave Hilary to it—but with one condition. ’
‘And what’s that?’
Maureen was disappointed to hear Bronagh was giving in where her sister was concerned, but at the same time she could see why.
A wedding was only one day, whereas Bronagh and Leonard had the rest of their lives ahead of them.
It would be easier in the long run if they could keep the peace with the family.
‘I tossed and turned thinking about it last night and it occurred to me there’s no rule saying I’m only allowed one matron of honour. So I’d like you and Lenny’s sister, Joan, to pair up with Hilary. Although technically Joan’s a maid of honour.’
For a moment, Maureen was speechless.
‘And the girls are to be bridesmaids, along with my niece Erin.’
‘Bronagh, I’d be delighted to be one of your matrons of honour.
Delighted.’ Maureen did another little jig before quickly crossing her legs.
It didn't pay to do too much jigging. ‘And I promise to do my utmost to keep Hilary in line. The girls will be thrilled when you tell them you want them in your bridal party.’
‘How could I not have you all? You’re my family too.’
‘Don’t be making me cry now.’
‘Well, I’ve something that’ll dry those tears up quick smart.
Will you come with me this Saturday? I’ll ask Joan too.
Hilary’s coming to stay for the night and she’s on a mission to get everything organised for the wedding.
I know it’s a big ask with you having your hands full as a new nana, but, Mo, I need the moral support and time’s marching on.
I need to find my wedding dress and you, Hilary and Joan will need matching outfits too.
You could help me choose something you think the girls might like for bridesmaids, then I can run it past them and see what they think.
Please, Mo. That sister of mine is a force of nature and I’ll end up marrying Lenny in a sensible cream wool suit if she has her way. ’
‘We can’t have that! We want sparkly sequins. Count me in.’
Bronagh flashed her a grateful smile, but it quickly faded. ‘There’s something else I’ve not told anyone, Mo. Well, that’s not quite true. Mam and Hilary know.’
Maureen took Bronagh’s hands. ‘You can tell me anything. I’ve three daughters. There’s nothing left in this world that could shock me.’
Bronagh swallowed hard before blurting it out.
‘I’ve been telling porkies about the wedding.
Even to Lenny.’ She searched Maureen’s face for any sign of shock, but finding none, continued.
‘I’ve only got the church booked. Time’s just run away with me and, the more the days have ticked by, the more I’ve procrastinated.
It’s not that I don’t want Lenny and me to have a wonderful wedding, it’s just the spectre of Hilary has made me drag my heels.
Between you and me, I’ve even contemplated hopping on a plane with Lenny to Las Vegas and being done with it. ’
‘Each to their own, but weddings are about friends and family as much as they’re about the bride and groom, Bronagh.’
‘I know that, but now I’ve dug myself into a bit of a hole. I don’t know where I’m going to find a reception venue at such short notice and I’ve a horrible feeling Hilary will take charge and book some draughty old hall where we all mill around drinking tea and awkwardly eating sausage rolls.’
Maureen was quick off the mark. ‘No, she won’t. Because I know exactly where you’ll be having your reception.’
‘You do? Where? Tell me, because I haven’t a clue.’
‘Here, of course. Haven’t we a grand dining room downstairs? Quinn could cater, and Mrs Flaherty, Mrs Baicu and Freya will all help. We could dress the room up beautifully for you.’
Hope flared inside Bronagh before immediately fizzling. It was too much.
Before she could protest, Maureen jumped in. ‘It’s not up for discussion, Bronagh. We’d be honoured to host your reception here. It feels right, don’t you think?’
It did. More right than anywhere else she could imagine. She and Lenny had met here, and now they would celebrate their marriage in the very guesthouse where so much of their story had unfolded.
‘I don’t know how to thank you, Mo.’
‘Don’t thank me. It’ll be our pleasure.’
‘I hope that’s not the royal "we" you’re using.’
‘You know yourself the others will be delighted to help. They love you as much as I do.’
There was a little dabbing of eyes before Bronagh, blinking furiously and feeling more than a little overwhelmed, looked towards the sofa. ‘Is that what I think it is?’
‘You left it in Rosi’s car yesterday.’
‘Did you get a chance to look through it?’
‘I did, and I love every piece. What’s the guest’s name?’
‘Patricia Harte.’
‘That’s me.’
Both women turned to find Patricia, a vision in mustard yellow, standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Maureen stepped forward, her hand already outstretched. ‘What good timing. I’m Maureen O’Mara, Patricia. It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘And you, Maureen,’ Patricia replied, returning the warm handshake while her eyes darted nervously from the bag to Bronagh.
‘Bronagh brought some of your creations for me to look through yesterday when we all trooped off to view a house she was interested in. Only we never got the chance because my daughter went into what’s called a precipitous labour in the bathroom.
She gave birth to a babby boy called Luke in there.
They’re both doing well, and Bronagh and Lenny have gone and bought the place, by the way. Just in case you were wondering.’
Patricia stared at the pair of them. ‘My goodness, that sounded like a particularly gripping episode of Fair City.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Maureen said.
‘You’re not wrong there,’ Bronagh agreed.
‘Congratulations on your new home, Bronagh, and your new grandchild, Maureen. Where is it you’ve bought?’ Patricia asked.
‘Ranelagh.’
‘My stomping ground.’
‘Yes indeed. Sixteen Cullingford Drive.’
‘You’ve never!’
‘We have. Why?’
‘We’re number twenty-four.’
‘Never!’
‘We are.’
Patricia fidgeted excitedly. ‘Listen, wouldn’t it be grand if we got my mam and your mam together? That way your mam would know someone nearby before you move in. Given their situations, I think they’d have plenty to talk about.’ She hesitated. ‘Sorry, I just assumed she’d be moving in with you.’
‘You assumed right. Thank goodness.’ Bronagh smiled. ‘And that’s a grand idea, so it is.’
‘Leave it with me then.’
The two women smiled at one another, both pleased with the unexpected turn things had taken.
Then Patricia remembered Maureen. ‘And your daughter—and little Luke, was it? You said they’re both well?’
‘They’re grand, thank you. It’s funny how things worked out because our Rosi was determined to have a home birth. I was dead against it at first and then, as it happened, I wound up helping deliver Luke in Bronagh’s new home.’
Patricia laughed.
‘You couldn’t write it. Could you?’ Bronagh smiled.
‘Anyway, the reason I dropped by this morning was to return your gorgeous pieces Patricia. I’m very glad I caught you because it means I can tell you in person just how talented you are. I’m certain there’d be a bespoke market for them. I’d love a coat like the red one in there.’
‘So would I,’ Bronagh agreed.
She and Maureen exchanged a look, both instantly recalling the christening when they’d turned up wearing exactly the same outfit.
Then Maureen’s face lit up. ‘That’s it! That’s your marketing angle right there, Patricia. Every piece is unique because, even if someone wants something similar—like that gorgeous red coat—you can personalise it with little touches that make it completely their own.’
Patricia smiled wistfully. ‘It’s a grand idea, Maureen, but I wouldn’t know where to begin when it came to getting the word out about my creations.’
Maureen beamed. ‘But I would.’