Chapter 48
Granny Annie spent the rest of the afternoon in Nell’s boutique buying something she deemed appropriate to the occasion – a black silk jumpsuit and a gold clutch bag.
‘Too much?’ she asked, when she, Johnny and I met on the landing outside our rooms.
‘Never too much,’ said Johnny. ‘In fact, your earrings are too small. Go and change them for your diamond hoops.’
Granny Annie disappeared back into her room.
‘You’re the opposite,’ I said to Johnny. ‘You’re underdressed.’
Johnny was wearing long board shorts, his old Beastie Boys T-shirt and a baseball cap. ‘I’m on vacay. I’m totally appropriate. You on the other hand…’ He appraised me. ‘You look like a different woman.’
‘In what way?’ I braced myself for brotherly honesty.
‘In a very good way. Last time I saw you in Boston, your hair was straighter than me in high school. And the make-up was excessive, your clothes made you look like you hadn’t read Vogue in twenty years, and your shoes were instruments of torture.’
‘Uh, it’s called business attire. Or haven’t you heard of such a thing?’
‘All I’m saying is that you look fabulous.
’ He was smiling at me and held open his arms. ‘Come here, come to your little brother Johnny who loves you very much. I think I might be having the best holiday of my life, with my two favourite gals. The regatta was mind-blowing and I love everyone. Matty and Eddie are coming to California to meet Mike and Miss Daisy and we’re going to take them to see the Lakers.
And of course I love all the ladies. And the soda bread and Irish butter. I’m in love with Sandycove.’
‘Me too. I don’t know how I’m going to go back.’
‘You’ll find a way. I know you will. But what about Henry?’
‘What about him? There’s nothing to say.’
‘He’s a tall, handsome Irish man. His accent makes my insides melt.
Honestly, if he lit up when I was around, I’d marry him myself.
And his dog is adorable. I am trying to work out how I could marry him off to Miss Daisy.
Could they have a long-distance marriage? Or am I as marriage-obsessed as Mom?’
I felt myself blushing. ‘Of course Patch and Miss Daisy couldn’t get married. Don’t be ridiculous!’ I paused. ‘They have two completely different star signs. Patch is a Libra, Miss Daisy is Capricorn. It would be a disaster.’
Johnny laughed. ‘You’re right. But what about you and Henry? Do the stars align?’
‘We live on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean. I mean, he’s just a really great guy, he likes everyone.’
‘But why did Lucy say he lights up when you’re around?’
‘I don’t know. Just forget about it.’ But I felt my heart was lifting. I wouldn’t forget Henry when I was back in Boston, that handsome Irish man who helped me have one of the best vacations of my life.
My phone beeped with a text from Milhouse. And then another and another. He was on a roll.
Kerrie-Ann? WTF?
Kerree-Anne. Call me.
What do you want from me? Okay, forget changing your name. That’s off the table. And I want to live with you. And I promise I will be a good husband. AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.
Kerry-An? Please? Call me back. AM I BLOCKED? BECAUSE IF I AM, THAT’S GRADE-A PSYCHO BEHAVIOUR.
Please call me. No prenup. Will that do?
Johnny read the texts over my shoulder. ‘He’s making himself irresistible, he really is. I mean, what a prince.’
‘He still wears navy blazers with gold buttons, though.’
‘In that case, forget him! What a deal-breaker.’ He paused. ‘I like a man who wears a sweater knitted by his grandmother. That’s a real man.’
‘Yeah…’ I smiled at him. I had to agree.
Behind us, Granny Annie was coming out of her bedroom. ‘All ready, you two.’ She held out her hands and we took one each and went down the stairs and out onto the sunny Sandycove street.
The Harbour Bar was hopping in the sunny evening, bunting from the regatta hung low over the area at the front.
Mrs DeCourcey was in her wheelchair surrounded by a big group of people, including Eddie and Matty, Mary and Betty, as they all clutched a glass of what looked like champagne.
The barbecue had been fired up by the bar staff, and the smell of sausages lingered in the air.
One of the staff was walking around with a large silver platter of smoked salmon on brown bread.
Johnny actually shrieked, and reached out to take four slices, cramming them into his mouth.
‘Why,’ he said, his mouth full, ‘is this so much better than the smoked salmon I’ve ever had before? ’
‘It’s Irish, that’s why,’ said Granny Annie. ‘We do the best cheese, butter, fish, bread and tea. Oh, and whiskey.’
‘Someone has fully embraced her roots,’ said Johnny, chewing on another two smoked salmons. ‘After all these years, she’s now more Irish than the Irish.’
‘I AM Irish!’ declared Granny Annie. ‘Honestly, wherever did you get the impression I wasn’t?’ But she was looking over at someone. Having removed her Chanel shades, she was smiling across at Eddie.
‘There she is,’ he called over to her. ‘The most beautiful woman in Sandycove.’
Granny Annie laughed. ‘Honestly, you’re incorrigible. As well as being incorrect.’
‘We don’t mind,’ called over Mary. ‘We don’t need Eddie to compliment us. We are perfectly content to live without platitudes from Eddie Dunne. We’ll let him off.’
Eddie came over and took Granny Annie’s hand. ‘You are,’ he said, kissing it. ‘You look beautiful. This… this…’ He gestured to her jumpsuit. ‘Romper. I like it. Like an air force pilot.’
Granny Annie laughed. ‘And that, Eddie, was exactly the look I was going for.’
I couldn’t see Henry or Lucy, but Johnny and I stood for a moment, talking.
‘I don’t know how I can leave. The thought of leaving everyone behind is horrible. I want to stay.’
‘Stay? Really?’
‘But my foundation. My company. I need to run it.’
‘Remote working, K? Ever heard of it? I think what you do is not only transferable and scalable. It might be good for you not to rush back to Boston.’
‘But visas?’
‘Irish grandmother. Just apply for an Irish passport.’
I nodded, thinking it all through.
‘And how are you about Caitlin?’ he went on. ‘Has being away helped you to process any of it?’
I nodded. ‘I really feel as though I have said goodbye to her properly. I’ve done a lot of talking to her in my head.’
‘That’s good,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘Talking to yourself may be the first sign of madness, but at least you’re talking.’
And then I saw Henry and Patch, and it was as though my insides collapsed, again that swell of imminent heartache, and also just joy in seeing them again.
How could I be feeling like this about someone who was exactly the opposite to anything I thought I wanted and needed in my life, someone who worked in a boatyard and lived in this small community on the coast of Ireland?
And yet… there was something about him that I knew was good for me.
And I thought that perhaps I was good for him.
Lucy had said that he lit up when I was around, and that was how I was feeling right now, all lit up.
I didn’t want to leave. There had to be a way.
Was it feasible? Could I stay in Sandycove?
What would my life look like? Could I balance my work over there with my work over here?
And how would I make money? My work with the knitters had been a passion project, not about money.
Passion was something I hadn’t felt for years.
Caitlin was right, as she always was: when you found it, don’t let it go.
Just then, Granny Annie was tapping her glass.
‘Good evening, everyone! Can everyone hear me?’ She beamed at us all. Eddie stood on one side of her, holding her gold bag; Mary was on the other side, shushing anyone who was still talking.
Everyone in the group moved closer to hear.
Mrs DeCourcey had balanced a glass of champagne on the cup holder of her wheelchair.
For someone who had been a near-recluse for so long, it was remarkable to see her, surrounded by members of the knitting circle, people who had once been friends with Lolly.
Granny Annie began to speak. ‘I have to say, I dreaded for far too long coming back to Sandycove, fearing all the memories and everything that happened would be too much to take. But it’s been very healing to be among my friends again, sharing stories, hearing what you’ve been up to, our highs and lows.
And particularly seeing Lolly’s mother. Mrs DeCourcey, I know Lolly is still with us in our hearts.
None of us have ever forgotten her. She was the type of person you couldn’t forget.
Vivacious, funny, beautiful, kind. My best friend.
’ She smiled, her eyes glittered with tears.
‘But good news. Eddie has been liaising with the church and he has just heard that we can hold a proper funeral for Lolly. A celebration of her far-too-short life. And, of course, we will organise a headstone. Mrs DeCourcey, we need to decide what we should have engraved.’
Mrs DeCourcey nodded. ‘Perhaps Shakespeare. If the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restor’d and sorrows end.’
Granny Annie smiled. ‘That sounds exactly right. And this evening, we’re also celebrating another event, because it’s Mrs DeCourcey’s ninety-seventh birthday tomorrow.’
Everyone began clapping and cheering, and then Eddie shouted for silence.
‘By the way, a big thank you to Mrs DeCourcey for hosting the knitting circle in her house. It’s a perfect solution.
Me and Matty will come in tomorrow morning and do what needs to be done.
’ He looked over at Mrs DeCourcey. ‘Thank you.’
‘It will be nice to have some life in the place,’ said Mrs DeCourcey. ‘I’m very happy about it.’ And then she found me in the crowd and nodded.
Someone sidled into the group. Finnuala. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she said.
‘How’s Sheila?’ someone asked.
Finnuala nodded. ‘She’s awake. And asking for ye all. I told her Adam was on his way from Abbydabby and, would you know, he walked in the door that moment, with flowers and Needle and Stitch magazine and photos of the grandchildren.’ Finnuala was smiling now, her eyes filled with tears of relief.
But I wasn’t listening any longer, because Henry, with Patch, had joined me and Johnny.
‘Ah, Henry,’ said Johnny. ‘I need to talk to you about a little bit of matchmaking…’
‘Oh yes?’ Henry glanced at me.
‘Yes, your Patch, with my Miss Daisy. Only he’s Libra, apparently. And Miss Daisy is Capricorn. Or is it Scorpio? Do you think they’d get on?’
‘What kind of dog is Miss Daisy?’
‘We have no idea. She’s small, kind of scary-looking, her fur is unmanageable, and she’s got teeth which stick out of her lips, so she frightens all the neighbourhood children away.
But she’s lonely. She has me and Mike, of course.
But she needs love. Do you think Patch might be up for being her pen pal? ’
‘Definitely.’ Henry was laughing. ‘He can dictate his letters and I’ll send them on.’
‘Actually,’ went on Johnny, ‘I have something of a bone to pick with you. My sister. She left Boston looking not unlike Miss Daisy. Kinda scary-looking, hair a mess, like a deranged business executive on the verge of a nervous breakdown…’
‘I wasn’t!’ I insisted, but he just carried on.
‘She’s gone native.’ He winked at me. ‘And now look at her. Radiant. Beautiful. What have you done to her?’
‘I don’t know what we did to her,’ said Henry, looking at me carefully… and perhaps even approvingly. He was smiling. ‘She does look beautiful. She really does.’
Johnny winked at me again and gazed at me fondly, which he never, ever did under normal circumstances. ‘Honestly, I’d forgotten what her smile looked like. She’s almost like a real person again.’