Chapter 24
24
MINNIE
Minnie leaned in to get a better look at her reflection in the mirror as she applied her lipstick, ignoring the twinge in her hip from this morning’s fall. She always wore bright red lippy on New Year’s Eve and Henry had always loved it. ‘Here comes Ruby Lips,’ he’d say as she came down the stairs. And it didn’t matter if she was twenty-five or seventy-five, he’d add, ‘The most beautiful girl that there ever was,’ and then he’d pull her close and they’d slow dance for a moment whether there was music on or not.
He was quiet tonight though, ever since she’d come off the phone to Emmy.
‘I know what you’re thinking there, Henry Ryan. I shouldn’t have lied to the lass about staying home tonight. But you know fine well that if I was honest about where I was going, well, it would have caused all sorts of issues. And, let’s face it, you’re not exactly squeaky clean in all this. You were party to the lie we told them last year too, when you and I were sneaking into Gino’s but didn’t want to tell them about it.’
Minnie had felt terrible about that, they both did, but they were caught between a rock and a hard place.
The year before that, two years ago now, they’d been having a wonderful time as usual at Gino’s. Eric and Ailish were there as always, and Emmy too. Of course, poor Alicia had already passed, and you could see the heartache on Gino’s face, but, goodness, he made an effort to cover it up, putting all his energy into being the host that made sure everyone had a fabulous night. Dario was there too, such a lovely man, who made her heart stop when he looked at her because his eyes were the same gorgeous almond shape as his mother’s.
Who else was there? She tried to think. Carlo! Yes, the youngest son was over at the bar, keeping the drinks flowing. And Gwen and Rhonda were providing endless entertainment as usual too. It was before Gwen got sick, and they had no idea what was to come for the poor soul. You just never knew the minute. Anyway, it was all going smashing right up until the early hours of the morning. All the happy new year kisses had been exchanged, there had been much jubilation, a smashing singalong, and then some slower music had come on for another round of dancing. Minnie hadn’t even noticed that Eric had disappeared, because she was too busy having a wee sway with Henry to something by that lovely Celine Dion, if she remembered correctly. Next thing, well, all hell broke loose. Ailish rushed back from the loos, grabbed her things, and she was off, Emmy chasing after her. Turned out poor Emmy had caught Eric with his… Minnie hated the word mistress, but that was the truth of it. Ailish had seen them too and that had set it all off.
Shocking didn’t even begin to cover it. Minnie had been devastated and crushed that a son of hers had acted that way. Henry had been furious. Livid. In fact, she wasn’t sure Henry’s relationship with Eric had ever recovered.
Not surprising then that she’d felt uncomfortable telling the family that they were going back to Gino’s last year, but as Henry said, there was no point in them losing a tradition they’d shared with friends for fifty years, over an act of stupidity by a son who’d been brought up to know better. Emmy was working anyway, Eric was away with that floozy of his, and Ailish didn’t have the appetite for going out. He’d broken her heart, so he had, and the lass didn’t deserve it after being a devoted wife to him for all those years. So yes, last year they’d lied about going to Gino’s because they didn’t want to hurt anyone by admitting they were returning to the scene of the crime. They’d said they were staying home, having a quiet night, but, in truth, they’d eaten delicious food, sang their hearts out and danced until they were breathless, putting another memory in the vault of their lives together. And Minnie would always be glad of it.
Make-up done, she picked up her brush, and styled her hair into the same look she’d worn on special occasions for most of her life: a middle parting, her hair swept back into a low, twisted bun at the back, like a ballet dancer. A chignon, it was called. Alicia had taught her how to do it when they were just young mums, and Minnie had always felt it was so sophisticated, even when they didn’t have a bean to their names.
A blast of Elnett hairspray kept it in place, and then she picked up the atomiser from the dressing table and added some scent to her wrists. Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew. Henry’s favourite.
As he often did, Henry left her to get ready. Her burgundy silk dress was already hanging on the front of the wardrobe, so she swapped it for her robe, glad that it covered her newly skint knees, then, wincing just a little with her aches and pains, slipped her feet into her low-heeled, silver shoes that were smart enough for a party but comfortable enough for a dance. She never did see the point of those towering heels the young ones wore – one wrong move and you could break an ankle in them.
As she came down the stairs, she heard ‘Moon River’ playing and there Henry was, waiting for her, handsome as ever. ‘Here comes Ruby Lips,’ he whispered. ‘The most beautiful girl there ever was.’
When she reached him, she felt his arms go around her and they swayed to the music, and Minnie knew, as she always did, that this was the most perfect moment of her year. She savoured it for as long as she could, before the beeping horn of the taxi outside interrupted them.
‘Come on, love, time to go,’ she murmured to him, then chided herself for the tears that were making her eyes glisten.
Henry noticed them too. ‘Hey, hey,’ he soothed her, stroking her cheek. ‘This is our happy night, ma darling. Another year. More memories to make.’
‘More memories to make,’ she repeated softly, before slowly pulling her hand away, their fingers sliding apart until only the tips were touching, then letting go.
The taxi beeped its horn again, but she still took her time, careful not to unsteady herself. After her fall this morning, and then that faint this afternoon, she didn’t want to add a ‘third time unlucky’ to the day.
In the living room, she picked up the box that she’d collected from the jeweller’s shop that morning, a gift for their oldest friend and for the man that her husband loved like a brother.
The front door creaked as it opened and closed, and then Minnie walked slowly, carefully down the path, Henry right beside her. The taxi driver spotted her, and jumped out of the car with an apologetic shrug. ‘Sorry about beeping the horn there like that – it’s double time tonight and I’m just trying to get as many fares in as possible so I can get home for the bells.’
‘No apologies needed, son. I’d be doing exactly the same thing if I were you and so would my husband. Nothing would ever make him miss midnight with his family.’
The driver opened the door and offered an arm for her to hold on to while she climbed in, happy to have redeemed himself for his impatience.
She gave him the address for Gino’s and they pulled off.
‘I take music requests if you have one, missus. This app on my phone has got just about every song you could think of.’
As always, Henry had quietened down, happy for her to chatter away, but she didn’t have to ask what he’d want to hear.
There was only one song on her mind too.
‘Can you play “Moon River”? It’s an oldie, a bit like myself.’
She got the fright of her life, when he suddenly shouted, ‘Siri, play “Moon River”’ in an American accent.
He caught her eye in the rear-view mirror.
‘It disnae do great with the Scottish accent. Best shout at it as if I’m born and bred in America. Works a treat.’
And it did. The opening bars of ‘Moon River’ began to play and Minnie and Henry smiled all the way out of the street.
From the South Side to the city centre, every time a song finished, Minnie told the driver the name of another old favourite and the next thing it was playing for them. Magical things, those Siri machines. She decided she was going to get Emmy to set one up for her in the house.
By the time she saw the twinkling lights outside Gino’s restaurant, she already had her money out and an extra tip for adding a delightful trip to their night.
For the second time, the driver jumped out and held the door open, and Minnie took her time, stepping out carefully to ensure she didn’t have a repeat of the gymnastics from this morning. ‘Hold on to me, Henry,’ she said, quietly. ‘I can’t be getting this far and then not make it.’
The taxi drove off, the driver grateful for his tip, and Minnie paused on the pavement for a moment to glance up at the third floor of the building next door – her and Henry’s first ever flat. The place where she’d given birth to all her boys, and where she’d loved the man who’d made her happy her whole life.
‘There it is, Henry,’ she told him. ‘It’ll always be ours.’
The spell was broken by the opening of Gino’s front door, as two giggling ladies, maybe in their thirties, came out, as friendly and carefree as could be.
‘Are you waiting to go in?’ one asked her cheerily, holding the door open.
‘I am indeed, dear,’ she replied, stepping forward, and even before she crossed the threshold, Minnie could smell the familiar, delectable aromas of the food inside. This was the best tonic she could have for her throbbing bones, and the excitement of it washed all her aches away.
‘Thank you so much,’ Minnie said as she passed them. ‘And Happy New Year to you when it comes.’
‘You too! Have a lovely night.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we will,’ Minnie told her with a grateful smile.
Inside, at the greeting stand, a young woman she didn’t recognise, met her with a beaming smile. ‘Good evening, and welcome to Gino’s. My name is Katie. Can I just check if you have a reservation?’
‘I do, dear. Minnie Ryan is my name.’
On the clipboard in front of her, the girl made a tick with her pen.
‘I have you right here, Mrs Ryan. Table for two.’
Minnie took a breath, her smile tainted with every sadness that had come her way since she had last stepped into this restaurant a year ago.
In her mind, she saw Henry take a step back, and then blow her a kiss goodbye.
‘Ah, no, dear. I’ll only be needing a table for one. I’m afraid my husband passed away at the beginning of the year.’