Chapter TWENTY-ONE
Lou
NOW
Two Days to Christmas Eve
‘So, that’s five bouquets, three holly centrepieces and the last of the wreaths all packed into the van for today’s deliveries,’
Mum says, dabbing her forehead with her apron.
‘Then, tomorrow, the Ballyheaney House flowers need to be delivered by noon, ahead of the big day on Wednesday, but aside from all of that I think we’ve everything under control before we close for Christmas. Well done, Lou!’
Nana Molly is chatting to a customer at a table; Declan the delivery guy is milling around, telling anyone who will listen about his mother’s untimely hospital visit; and as the Christmas buzz builds around the village, I only wish I could shake myself into feeling it as much as I should be.
‘You’re amazing, Mum. Well done to you too,’
I say to her.
‘Sorry, I’m not myself at the moment, but everything you and Nana do for me here is very much appreciated.’
‘We already know that, honey,’
she says.
‘Any more word from Gracie?’
I shake my head.
‘She’s gone quiet, bless her,’
I reply.
‘We’ve arranged a video call on Christmas Day to open presents together. Thank goodness for technology is all I can say.’
I stifle a yawn, which makes my eyes glisten. As a headache brews, I’m reminded of how the events of the weekend have taken their toll in more ways than one. As well as the head-spinning reconnection with Ben, our heated row over that silly Olivia Major, Gracie’s decision to stay with her dad for Christmas, and yesterday’s boozy lunch with Cordelia, I’ve been unable to think straight.
‘You’re exhausted, Lou,’
Mum tells me while folding a stack of fresh tea towels. She’s had her hair done again in time for the festivities and looks as fresh and radiant as ever.
‘It’s not like you to be so quiet or defeated, even if Gracie’s Christmas plans are a disappointment. Is there anything else I can do to help ease the pressure?’
I let out a long sigh, the type reserved for only someone who I can be fully honest with.
‘I’ll be fine, I’m just licking my wounds,’
I tell her.
‘Ah, I was so looking forward to having her here with us all on Christmas Day. On top of that, I was so glad of the rush and excitement of helping organise the big Ballyheaney House party, but now I’m feeling like it’s not my place to be there after all.’
‘Now that’s very hard to believe,’
says Mum.
‘You were once part of the furniture up there, especially at this time of year. What’s happened? Is it anything to do with Ben Heaney?’
I turn my back to her, pretending to be busy at the sink while I do my best to stay in control. My nose tingles, my throat tightens, and a loud involuntary sniffle gives the game away.
‘It’s everything, Mum. It’s Ben, it’s me, it’s the fear of being hurt again, it’s love and regret and a whole lot of other things,’
I say, feeling her gentle arm around my waist. She leans her head on my right shoulder.
‘I broke his heart once before – badly, Mum. Worse than I thought I did, but I was an absolute wreck too. I know I ran away from it all and I didn’t tell you about Ben, but you were already struggling with me packing up and leaving for New York. I’m so sorry.’
Mum sits me down on a little stool out of sight of customers, tells Nana Molly that she is in charge out front, and gets me a strong cup of sweet tea as I tell her about my afternoon with Cordelia and then, more importantly, the truth about Ben.
‘So, I dropped out of uni in April, Gracie was born in August and we moved to New York in October,’
I remind her.
‘Ben and I had been messaging a little. He’d heard I’d had my baby and wanted to see how I was feeling. Then he booked a flight from Paris and landed literally at our doorstep out of the blue.’
‘Jeez, that was a big gesture,’
she says, all ears.
‘A very big gesture,’
I agree with her.
‘It almost put me and him over the edge. I think it made everything harder, which was not his intention. But it did.’
Mum does her best to be a neutral, understanding ear, but I know this is a huge bolt out of the blue. As I tell her more about Ben’s eleventh-hour visit when my bags were packed for New York in the hallway, I see tears fill her eyes.
‘What did he suggest to you?’
she asks me.
‘Does anyone else know about this?’
‘No one else has ever known,’
I tell her.
‘You had taken the baby out for a walk, John was saying his goodbyes in Belfast to all his mates, and I was having a quiet moment to myself before I left Bellaghy for a place I’d only ever holidayed in. I was terrified, Mum, but I was excited too. John’s job offer was a huge opportunity. They’d lined us up with an apartment and a car as part of his deal, so it was an offer we couldn’t refuse. Then there was a knock at the door, and it was Ben.’
Mum stares into space for a moment while I gather my thoughts.
‘He asked you to stay, didn’t he?’
she says, her voice cracking.
‘And you said no.’
I bite my lip. I look her in the eye.
‘He said he’d look after me and Gracie if I’d stay,’
I whisper.
Mum sits back on the stool and leans against the wall as it all sinks in. Then, as if it were a magic potion, she sits up straight and comes slightly towards me with new vigour.
‘I suspect you two still adore each other,’
she tells me.
‘I do too,’
I say, briefly closing my eyes.
‘That will never change.’
‘So please don’t hurt each other again,’
she says.
‘I think both of you have been through enough heartache already.’
I take a deep breath.
‘Which is why I’ve made a very difficult decision,’
I say to her.
‘Ben has lost his wife, he deserves only the very best for himself and Ava from now on, so I’m stepping back for both of our sakes. I’ve really enjoyed helping out this far, but I’m not going to the party on Christmas Eve after all.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,’
she tells me.
‘I was trying to say you should both learn from the past, that’s all.’
But I’ve already made up my mind. There’s too much hurt. Too much water under the bridge. Too many skeletons in the cupboard, cobwebbed and dusty after so many years.
‘I think it’s best for all if I stay away to save any more old wounds from opening. I’ve done as much as I can to help, and I loved every minute of it.’
Mum’s face is a mixture of confusion and pity, though I know we can’t chat for much longer. Things are heating up out front, and it won’t be long before Nana Molly needs help.
Now that I’ve stopped talking, I realise Mum has been holding my hand the whole time.
‘And when he begged you to stay, did you even contemplate saying yes to him?’
she asks me.
I nod as tears flow down my face.
‘Of course I did, Mum, but I was so torn. I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t so I told him again and again that although I’d always love him I couldn’t do it to John,’
I explain.
‘I can only imagine how difficult that was for both of you,’
she says.
‘No matter what way you turned, someone was going to be badly hurt.’
‘I did love John, and we had Gracie, Mum,’
I explain.
‘She was only a few months old and she deserved to be with her mum and dad. John and I had a life planned. Ben had his final year to complete, so how could he give up all that to look after me and someone else’s baby? It would never have worked out.’
‘But it might now,’
she says.
‘Don’t you think so?’
I shake my head.
‘He has Ava to focus on,’
I remind her.
‘His little girl has to come first. There are too many factors, too much potential for another mess, so I’m calling it quits from now on.’
Mum’s face is crestfallen. She looks almost as gutted as I feel inside.
‘Well, if you’ve made up your mind then I’m not even going to try and convince you to go to the party,’
she says.
‘But life has a funny way of coming full circle, Lou. I’ve always told you that if something is meant to be, it will find a way. If the time is right, you and Ben will find your way.’
I swallow hard. We both smile.
‘We’ll see,’
I tell her.
‘Thanks for listening, Mum. And I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you more back then. I knew you were already heartbroken over me and Gracie leaving. You didn’t need to know that I was heartbroken in many other ways too.’
Nana Molly’s shrill splurge of expletives makes us jump to attention after our hushed heart-to-heart.
‘What’s going on in here?’
she says, holding a huge bouquet I don’t recognise as one of our own.
‘Is this a private party or can any of us join?’
I feel a brief rush of excitement when I remember how Master Campbell is planning to ask Nana Molly to go with him to the Ballyheaney House party. I hope she says yes, even if she claims to have some sort of ill will against the whole thing.
‘The strangest thing just happened,’
Nana says, full of drama, just how she likes it.
‘These flowers were delivered for you, Lou. I mean, who would be so cheeky as to deliver flowers to a florist in her own shop? There’s a note too. Open it. The suspense is killing me.’
For me? Surely there must be a mistake.
I take the bouquet from Nana Molly, pausing to smell the deep red roses, so velvety and classic. Whoever ordered these has expensive taste. Nestled among them are creamy-white ranunculus and delicate paperwhites, with sprigs of evergreen scattered through.
‘How about we leave her to it?’
whispers Mum to Nana.
‘I think I hear some customers.’
‘Oh, all righty then,’
Nana grunts, before she reluctantly follows Mum out to the shop floor.
My heart is going ten to the dozen as I open the small envelope that bears my name. It’s addressed to me via Buds and Beans, which gets me all of a fluster. Who would do such a thing? But when I take out the fine, crisp white paper, I recognise the handwriting straight away.
Dear Lou,
This is a gesture to the woman who deserves flowers as much as the hundreds of people she makes happy with her deliveries and poems every day.
You have never once given me ‘the ick’
– I hope you know that. Well, apart from that one time when … I’m joking.
You see, Lou, there are a thousand things I’ve always loved about you – but it’s the little, quirky ones that still sneak up and make me smile the most.
I love how you always talked to plants and flowers like they were old friends, or how you’d hum Sinatra while you were driving, even if it was through a thunderstorm, or how you danced in the kitchen at Ballyheaney with your socks on, sliding into my arms like it was a place just for you. Because it was.
I love how every year you’d make some crazy changes to our party plans, convincing us all it would work. You were always right. And that laugh – God, Lou, how I love to hear you laugh – sharp and sudden when we had a fit of the giggles, like it surprised even you.
These pieces of you and so many more are etched into me. They’ve kept me company all these years.
Now that I’ve found you again, I don’t want just memories.
I want to laugh with you again and again. I want more chaos in the kitchen, your voice in my silence, and your hand in mine for as long as time will give us.
We have changed so much, but we still have so much more to discover together.
Let’s not waste another year apart. We always said we’d get there when the time was right.
I believe our time is right now, Lou.
And true love is forever, not just for Christmas.
I still love you.
Ben
PS: Do you still bite your nails when you’re nervous? Or forget to use your wing mirrors when reversing a car?
Please come to the party x
I can barely breathe. How did he even think of sending me a note with flowers, like I did with the young couple, Beth and Danny? I lift the letter to my face, close my eyes and I can smell his aftershave. I can see him putting pen to paper. I can imagine him thinking.
And I love that he did it all for me.
Nana comes back for a nosey, but I can’t bring myself to tell her about any of this yet. I need to process it all in my own mind. I want to savour this moment. I want to read over his words again and again.
But I’ll have to do all of that later, because duty calls, it seems.
‘That cute puppy lady is back, so the customers are going gaga again,’
says Nana, taking the bouquet from my arms.
‘And that Mrs Quinn from the committee is here asking for you, Lou. She’s younger than I thought, I must admit, and Master Campbell looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust over something he won’t tell me about. On top of all that, I’ve made a complete balls-up of one of those fancy lattes, and your mum is up to her ears in dishes. I need you to come to the rescue.’
Despite the romantic bubble I’m now in, I’ve a business to run, so I pat down my apron, fix my eyes with a touch up of make-up and a signatory sweep of lipstick, then make my way out to my shop floor.
I scout quickly around, wondering has Mrs Quinn given up waiting on me, but then I spot Beth with the cute sausage dog, Crumb. She’s with another lady down by the vintage train set at the back of the floristry, deep in discussion as they admire my window display and what’s left of the eclectic mix of ornamentals and gifts scattered around the shop.
She waves, so I wave back, doing my best not to drool over the puppy. The woman with her wears an expensive camel-coloured coat with flattering fitted black trousers. Her hair bounces on her shoulders as she turns around to the sound of Nana Molly’s voice.
‘Mrs Quinn, you were looking for my granddaughter?’
Nana Molly says.
‘This is Lou. Mrs Quinn is Beth’s aunt, can you believe it? She’s from the committee. You know, the one who wrote to Tilda Heaney …’
My grandmother’s words trail off as the woman walks towards me, her hand outstretched to greet me, but I’m frozen to the spot.
‘Lou, it’s been years!’
she says.
‘And I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I’ve a lot of explaining to do. And apologising for some of my youthful decisions. I was a bitch back then. Can you please forgive me?’
I curse myself for giving in to her limp handshake, but I’m too stunned to do anything else right now. She smells of Chanel, her complexion is flawless, and her eyebrows are heightened by what looks like a recent dose of Botox.
Mrs Quinn isn’t a fuddy-duddy little old lady with too much time on her hands, like I imagined her to be.
Mrs Quinn is my age or thereabouts. She is rich, she is glamorous, and she has a striking look with a voice that ties my stomach into knots in the same way it always used to.
Mrs Quinn is my nemesis. She is Olivia Major.