Every Christmas Eve

Chapter NINETEEN

Ben

‘Five, four, three, two, one – ta-da!’

Ava and I are on our way back to Ballyheaney House, practising how we’re going to give the extra-special early Christmas present to my mum. Our two-hour round trip has been the perfect medicine to take my mind off the events of the night before.

I’m towing an enclosed trailer on the back of the car, the light fall of sleet is giving my windscreen wipers a run for their money, and we’ve the heat blasting as we face the last leg of our journey.

To fill the time, Ava is having great fun gauging her grandmother’s reaction to our very creative idea for her Christmas present.

We both know it could go either way. She’s going to either love it, or she’s going to chase us right back to County Antrim where we got it from, with an order to return it immediately.

‘Your turn, Dad,’

Ava tells me.

‘I’ve done the countdown, so I’m us and you’re Grandma. You’ve seen the present, so what do you say?’

I do my best to imitate my mother’s soft, serene voice, which rarely changes tone.

‘Oh, how did you think of something so unique, darling son and granddaughter?’

I purr as Ava goes into fits of giggles.

‘I might even shed a wee tear. It’s a work of art! I’d go so far as to say it’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had in my whole life. Even better than the red collared dress I got when I was ten years old. Have I told you about that dress, Ava? I still have it in the attic, you know. Good as new. It might fit you, you know?’

Ava throws her head back laughing. She has heard about the red collared dress every single Christmas since she was born, as have Cordelia and I. My father once joked how our mother would have got married in that dress if it had still fitted her.

I’m silently preparing myself for the worst when I reveal our Christmas surprise, if truth be told. Last night’s conversation with Lou has knocked me off my axis, but I had to tell her about Olivia. It’s as much about respect for her as it was to get it off my chest.

But that was then, this is now, and while Lou and I have the memories of Christmas Eves at Ballyheaney House and a sizzling chemistry to cling on to, a lot of our time together from now on will be like starting from scratch.

‘On an equally important note, do you have any more Christmas shopping to do?’

I ask my daughter.

‘Now that Cordelia is home, you should nab her for a quick trip into Belfast to find a few bits for your wardrobe.’

Ava drums her fingers on the car door in thought.

‘I could always wear Grandma’s red collared dress,’

she says to me, then, imitating my mother’s voice.

‘Do you have all your shopping done, Benjamin?’

‘OK, OK, drop it before we get any closer or she’ll hear you,’

I tell her with a smile.

‘Yes, I’ve all my shopping done. Well, I think so. I might like to get Lou something to thank her for all her help with the party. Any ideas?’

I know I’m being slightly optimistic when it comes to Lou wanting any sort of gift from me, but I’d rather try to show some sort of appreciation than not.

‘Flowers?’

says Ava, still in giddy mode.

‘That’s very helpful,’

I nod.

‘Now, why didn’t I think of buying flowers for someone who runs a florist’s?’

Ava hums along to the Christmas songs we’ve been playing as we arrive at Ballyheaney at last.

‘OK, run me through it all again, quickly,’

she says, glancing over to the big house across the lawns.

‘You distract Grandma in the library or the kitchen,’

I remind her.

‘I’ll pretend I’ve to show Uncle Eric a last-minute minor repair out here, and when the time is right and our gift is on full display, we’ll call her outside. Then we’ll soon see if we still have a Christmas to celebrate here or if it’s cancelled.’

Ava nods, drinking in my every word. Her love of a challenge reminds me of her sweet mother so much sometimes, especially if we can make it fun.

‘Loud and clear, boss,’

she says with a fist pump in my direction.

‘Loud and clear.’

Moments later, after Ava has gone inside the house, Uncle Eric is making his way towards me dressed for an Arctic expedition even though the winter sun has decided to make a late-afternoon appearance. I can barely see any of his face, he’s so covered up in the collar of his puffy navy coat and his grey woolly hat.

‘I told her not to make a fuss, but she wouldn’t listen,’

he says as he walks towards me.

‘Cordelia has gone out for the day, you two were off on your travels, so I told her in no uncertain terms to be cooking such a big meal, but would she listen? She’s roasting a duck as we speak, watching the clock for your return.’

I open the trailer as I listen.

‘Not to worry, we’ll be ready for some food once we make our big presentation.’

‘Don’t you want to wait for your sister, if it’s such a big deal?’

asks Uncle Eric.

The thought had crossed my mind more than once, but Cordelia seems to be on her own mission today. She isn’t answering her phone, for starters.

‘This isn’t the type of thing that can wait,’

I tell my uncle.

‘And Cordelia will be just as surprised when she sees it later as she would be if she were here now. Where is she, anyhow?’

Uncle Eric scratches his head as he tries to find a peephole in the trailer.

‘Out to lunch with Lou, last I heard,’

he says.

‘Ben, if this is a pony, you know we don’t have the manpower to look after it round here. Not to mention the finances. We’re struggling enough without another mouth to feed.’

I take a moment to let what he is telling me sink in. I’ve had my head buried in the sand for too long, yet somewhere along the way I knew this was coming. I’ve had a suspicion that something was afoot, but now isn’t the time to go into the family finances. Cordelia and I will discuss it with them after Christmas.

‘We’ll sort it, Uncle, I promise. Now, it isn’t a pony,’

I reply, my brain working overtime as I think of Lou and Cordelia off somewhere together.

‘Right, let’s get this trailer opened up. Stand back, Erico! Are you ready? Ta-da!’

He stops dead and puts both hands to his face when he sees what we have in store for my mother.

‘Oh my goodness!’

He swallows. He scratches his head again. He leans in for a closer look.

‘Is that a good “oh my goodness” or a holy shit, Ben, what have you done “oh my goodness”?’

I ask him. He rubs his chin and stares into the trailer where a large cardboard box with peepholes for air sits in its centre. A trumpet-like honk makes his eyes widen.

‘Quickly, Uncle. Have I made a giant mistake?’

‘I’ve always said your biggest mistake was letting Lou Doherty go,’

Uncle Eric says.

‘But if you can’t get her back, and if this is what I think it is, then this might be the closest thing to nostalgia I’ve seen round here in a very long time.’

We are both too busy staring inside the trailer to notice Ava behind us.

‘Where did you let Lou go to, Dad?’ she asks.

I look at Uncle Eric in surprise. He can only stammer and stutter in response.

‘Ah, we’re reminiscing about old girlfriends,’

he says.

‘It’s nothing important.’

‘And old friend, you mean,’

I correct him quickly.

‘Lou was a great friend to us all when she worked here, especially at Christmas. That’s what he means. We were talking about parties of days gone by and Uncle Eric said—’

‘Never mind, here comes Grandma now,’

says Ava, but I know I’m in for a lot more questioning later.

‘She wants to know if you’d like duck for lunch. I said I’d ask you. Obviously, she wants to ask you herself, so here goes nothing. Will she like our present or loathe it? We’re about to find out.’

Beads of sweat form along my forehead, even though it’s still freezing cold outside, despite the brief glimmers of sunshine through the clouds. I want to shake Uncle Eric, but then he didn’t know Ava was within earshot. I must also remember that at his age he’s not quite as sharp as he once was.

I look across to the house to see Mum waving and smiling as she makes her way to the courtyard where we’re standing, guarding the back of a trailer like it contains the Crown jewels.

‘Wait!’

I call to her, realising that it’s now or never. I’d planned this so differently in my head.

‘Take your time, I mean. I’ve something very special to show you.’

She slows down, which gives me time to get everything ready a lot more quickly than I’d expected to. I open the box, careful not to make any sudden movements, just as I’d been instructed.

I hear Uncle Eric gasp. Then Ava gives me a thumbs up with a reassuring smile.

‘We’ve got your Christmas present, Grandma,’

she says gently, now my mother is closer.

‘Already?’

asks Mum.

‘But it isn’t even …’

Her words trail off while we all stand back to take in the breathtaking display as the peacock finds its feet beside us. Its striking train opens like a fan, showcasing an array of rich, shimmering hues in turquoise blue, emerald green and hints of gold and purple. Each feather is adorned with an eye-like pattern, the vibrant colours swirling into delicate, mesmerising designs.

‘Meet Alexander the Great,’

I whisper to my mother, who seems lost for words.

‘Alexander the Great,’

she repeats.

‘Oh, wow! He is beautiful!’

‘We didn’t do our countdown, Dad,’

whispers Ava.

‘Five, four, three, two, one.’

‘Ta-daaa!’

we both say sheepishly.

I feel my heart beating in my chest as I await Mum’s further reaction. Five, four, three, two, one. I count it down in my head once more.

She visibly takes a deep breath, dabs away her tears and then breaks into a smile I don’t think I’ve seen the like of in many, many years.

‘Do you like him?’

I ask her.

‘We got you a peacock because we know how much you missed Cleopatra, Grandma,’

Ava tells my mother, whose look of disbelief is crowned by tears running down her face.

‘I - I absolutely love it,’

she says.

‘He’s stunning. He’s like a work of art.’

Ava clasps her hands, then gives me a high five. I see Uncle Eric puff out his chest from the corner of my eye.

‘Well now, that’s a gift to remember,’

he says, then coughs into a tissue like he always does when choked by emotion.

‘Good thinking, Ben. Good job, Ava.’

As Alexander walks on to the lawn, his glorious patterns come to life, shifting and glistening in the December sunlight.

‘You’ve got me so much more this Christmas than you’ll ever know, my darlings,’

Mum tells us.

‘I’ve been so incredibly lonely. But you’ve got me a new friend.’

I walk towards my mother and hold her close. Ava joins in too, as does Uncle Eric, and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry.

As we huddle on the courtyard in our blissful bubble, the first person I want to tell about all this is Lou.

I would love to share my happiness with her. I want to share every precious moment with her from now on.

I can only hope she feels the same.

‘You’re playing a blinder this Christmas,’

Uncle Eric tells me when we’re touching up the paintwork in the blue ballroom later that day.

‘This house hasn’t witnessed so much joy and, dare I say it, so much noise in far too long.’

‘Ah, come on, Uncle,’

I reply, hoping to get back to our usual banter before we fall into mutual praise.

‘I’ve heard you snoring. I’ve no idea how these walls are still standing after all the rattling they’ve had since you came to live here.’

He chuckles and shakes his head.

‘Stairs creaking and my snoring are a given,’

he tells me.

‘It’s the laughter I’ve missed, Ben. And I never thought I’d see the day when Cordelia’s rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” would be the sound I was waiting for, but now that she’s home, it’s like we’re complete again.’

I steal a glance over to where he stands, a few metres from me. His frail hand is trembling as he lifts the paint pot to pour a little more into his tray, and the look of concentration on his face is more intense than it used to be. I’ve deliberately given him patches to fill in at his own eye level so he doesn’t have to bend or stretch too far.

‘I’m pottering,’

he tells me as he goes at a snail’s pace.

‘Thank you for letting me potter, Ben. I know you’d be much quicker yourself.’

We’ve covered the floor in dust sheets, and the long, tall windows are bare as we wait for the return of the curtains from the cleaner’s, but there’s already a feeling of excitement in the air.

‘Promise I’ll do some of the dirty work tomorrow,’

Cordelia told me in a text message when we’d finished our meal.

‘Having a super catch-up with Lou.’

I think I may have read the last line at least ten times.

‘I would be quicker, yes,’

I reply to my uncle.

‘But then I’d have to find something else for you to do. At least I can supervise you when you’re right under my nose.’

Ava has set us up with some classical music in the background, at Uncle Eric’s request. His taste has changed immensely as the years have rolled by. Once a rocker in his day, with a lifelong passion for loud Led Zeppelin, he prefers now to be able to chat over his music choices, so we’ve settled on the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s Christmas Classics. It sets the tone of our relaxing task as we drift between conversation and long silences, both deep in thought.

Soon, the inevitable subject of my evening with Lou the night before comes up. I’m not sure I really want to talk about it, so I skirt around it before turning the conversation back to my uncle’s love life – or lack of it, after he came here on a permanent basis following my father’s death ten years ago. I wonder if he will tell me at long last about his one true love.

‘Was she someone you knew when you lived in Wicklow?’

I ask him.

‘Give me the first letter of her name at least. I have a good memory of your farm and some of your friends back then. Was it Gertrude the singer? I have a vague recollection of you dancing with her at a summer barbecue. Was it her?’

He pretends to zip his lips with his fingers, unable to hide the cheeky smile that peeks through.

‘Good guess, but Gertrude was a fleeting fling which suited both of us at the time,’

he tells me.

‘I’d two failed marriages, don’t forget, and no children, so I was very much footloose and fancy-free.’

‘You were a kind man, though,’

I remind him.

‘I learned a lot from hanging out with you when I was a wide-eyed student. Everyone told me you were a gentleman, which made me very proud.’

He pauses, frowns and tilts his head in thought.

‘Are you complimenting me, Ben?’

he asks.

‘Was that a compliment, because I think it may have been?’

‘Maybe it was,’

I confess.

‘Gosh, we’re all going soft around here. OK, back to default mode. Two divorces aren’t anything to brag about, are they?’

He guffaws at this so much that he puts his paintbrush on the tray to stop him dripping blue paint all over the place.

‘A broken heart leads to very bad judgement,’

he says, more wistfully now.

‘It’s like trying to drive a car with no oil or expecting a clock to chime when you haven’t taken the time to wind it up properly. The term “fools rush in” could have been my motto in my thirties, though I know now that I was running on empty and expecting to cross a finishing line that was so far out of reach.’

‘You’re right,’

I say, his words resonating with me so much that I don’t even have a proper comeback.

‘She is real, then? Your one true love who got away?’

He raises his eyebrows and lets out a deep sigh.

‘Oh, she’s real all right,’

he replies, staring at the wall.

‘I know where she is, but I don’t know her any more. I’ve no doubt the tides of time have changed her like they do us all. However, I hold the version of her I do know very close to my heart.’

Then he smiles as if he’s remembered something new.

I can hear that Ava and Mum have come back from their self-title.

‘winter wildlife walk’

with Roly. Mum is still on a high about her new friend Alexander, and while she’d usually prefer to curl up with a book after lunch on a winter’s day like today, instead she put on some layers and invited Ava to join her on a walk round the estate, where she undoubtedly told Ava stories of every nook and cranny they came across.

‘Do you think Lou and I have changed too much to really know each other like we used to?’

I ask Uncle Eric.

It’s a pretty loaded question which he doesn’t rush to answer. Instead, he picks up his paintbrush again and dips it into the blue paint, scraping the excess against the tray with his shaking hand.

‘Not necessarily, Ben,’

he tells me.

‘But you’ll need patience. Enjoy getting to know each other again, learn from before but don’t take anything for granted. And make a goddam effort, Ben. Don’t leave anything to assumption. If you want her, tell her so.’

Ava bursts into the room with Roly still on the lead. My mother is following close behind.

‘We saw deer footprints in the mud, Dad, and some Whooper Swans,’

she tells us.

‘We even found a cool hut that looks like it’s been there for years and years.’

‘And Roly chased a rabbit down a hole so far we didn’t think he’d make it out again,’

chirps Mum. Her mood has lifted immensely over the past few days, especially since Cordelia arrived.

But my mind is going into overdrive as I think of how I’m going to make things better between Lou and me before Christmas Eve.

Should I say something with a gift? The best Ava could suggest was flowers … which has given me an idea.

I know exactly what I’ll do. In fact, I’ll go and sort it out right now.

Uncle Eric hands Ava his paintbrush. He looks tired, though he still has one more piece of advice for me before he hands over the reins to my daughter.

‘Take it from an old fool like me,’

he says.

‘Second chances with your one true love don’t come along very often. I only wish I’d had such an opportunity when I was your age. Don’t let her go again. Fight for her.’

He shuffles out of the room, leaving me deep in thought. So much so, it takes me a few seconds to realise that Ava’s little face has dropped.

‘Your one true love?’

she says, her eyes already overflowing with tears.

‘Is that Lou?’

‘Ava, wait,’

I say quickly, but it’s much too late.

‘I’m sick of this!’

she says.

‘I thought your one true love was Mummy.’

‘Let me explain, darling.’

She puts the paintbrush down and runs upstairs before I can say anything more.