Coming Home for Christmas (18 page)

‘Lovely. An Irish one?’ Mrs Harney asked perkily.

Oh Lord!
thought Esther in dismay.

‘Do you know what’s gorgeous? A Bailey’s one,’ Alison said dreamily. ‘I’ll have one of those.’

‘Me too,’ said Kate.

‘You will in your hat. Now start clearing the table, girls. We all have to help out today,’ Olivia said firmly, changing the subject, much to her mother’s relief.

When the washing-up was done and the coffee made, with a hint of whiskey in Mrs Harney’s, a more generous helping in Leo’s, Michael’s and Liam’s, and Bailey’s for
Esther and her daughters, they gathered around the low coffee table in the sitting room and the playing cards came out, reminding Alison of another time and place recently when she’d played
uproarious games of cards.

She was really looking forward to seeing JJ. Looking forward to his teasing. Looking forward to being with him far more than she’d ever looked forward to being with Jonathan, she thought
in surprise. She’d hardly given her erstwhile boyfriend a thought since she’d come home. What did that say about their relationship? Not much, she conceded gloomily, wondering why
she’d settled for so little.
Never again
, she vowed silently.
New Year, new job, new outlook on life.

As she lay in bed that night, pleasantly tired after the early start and eventful day, Alison was very glad she’d stayed on for Christmas. If she’d been working, she would have flown
back to New York after her mother’s party and never had this time with her parents, sister and nieces. Her connection with her family was strong and firm again, she’d never let it slip
the way she had. Home was where the heart was, and family was more important than any job or career could ever be. Her mother had often said when they were growing up and experiencing a blip in
life that sometimes life’s hard knocks were blessings in disguise. If Alison hadn’t been made redundant, she’d never have been home for Christmas – a truly enjoyable
Christmas at that – and neither would she have met JJ. She hoped he was looking forward to seeing her as much as she was to seeing him.

What would she wear when JJ came round to pick her up? Alison wondered a few days later as she lazed in bed listening to the sea crashing against the rocks and the birds
singing in the eaves of the house. She felt pleasantly lethargic. She hadn’t stayed in bed this late, for three days in a row, ever. It was ten thirty; she’d practically have a
day’s work done in the US. She was beginning to realize just how hard she’d pushed herself. She’d worked like a Trojan. Her career had consumed her. Coming home had been the first
time in
years
that her mind and body felt totally relaxed. Perhaps it was the sea air, she thought with a smile, burrowing down into her bed, unwilling to get up just yet. This time next
week she’d be back in New York and her days of unaccustomed indolence would be well and truly over. She was going to get some sort of a job to keep her going until she got her career back on
track.

JJ had phoned the previous day to say that he’d be in Dublin to overnight with his sister before flying back to the States. He’d asked her if she was free to meet him in the
afternoon. She’d said she was, and asked where did he want to meet, and that was when he’d suggested picking her up at her parents’. It had been good to hear his voice, but they
hadn’t spoken for long because he kept drifting in and out of coverage. Alison stretched and yawned. She liked that he was picking her up and that he’d meet her parents. It seemed
appropriate somehow. They weren’t taken with Jonathan, she’d accepted that. Not that they’d said anything, but she’d known. Not that JJ was anything more than a friend,
because that was how she would be introducing him. He was a friend, a real friend. And she hoped very much that he felt the same about her.

Her chinos, she decided, that’s what she’d wear, dressed up with a black Donna Karan wrap-around top. Not too fancy, not too dressed down. Smart casual. If she went into top gear, he
might think she was making a play for him, and that was
definitely
not the case. Because of his circumstances, it would be very much up to him to make the first move. It had to be, for both
their sakes, and she was far from convinced he would ever want to change the status quo.

‘Bye, Mother, see you, Dad.’ JJ hugged his parents tightly. ‘As soon as I have the place anyway shipshape, I’ll book your tickets to come over. Should
be around May – nice time to visit.’

‘We’ll look forward to it, son. Ring us when you get to your sister’s,’ his mother instructed, linking her arm in his as she walked him to his rental car.

‘I will, I’m just going to meet a friend first. Now go in out of the cold, it’s a wild day and it looks like rain.’ He kissed her cheek, still soft and unlined despite
the fact that she was seventy-two. His father stood with his arms folded, pipe stuck between his teeth. JJ knew it was cutting him up that he was leaving. He raised his hand in farewell, and his
father did the same in return. No words were spoken.

He had a lump in his throat as he started the engine and rolled down the window, and waved until he drove around the bend in the narrow country road and he could see them no more. He hated
parting from his folks. And he knew they’d miss him.

He had one more goodbye to make before he headed for Dublin. Half a mile down the road he came to a tidy little village. It boasted a petrol pump, supermarket, pub, school and church. He parked
in the church grounds and pushed open the old wrought-iron gate that led to the small, well-kept cemetery.

JJ took a deep breath and walked along the tarmacadam path, halfway up towards the big Celtic cross at the top. He stopped at a neat, granite headstone in the shape of a scroll. His wife had
loved writing poetry, and he’d thought the headstone was apt at the time. Two large pots of pansies and polyanthus bloomed vibrantly, a colourful contrast to the white polished stones.
‘Just came to say goodbye, Anna. I love ya,’ he murmured. ‘And I hope you don’t mind, I’m going to meet a woman today that I think you might like. Hope you’re
flying high up there.’ He traced his finger across her name,
Anna Connelly
, and then he turned and walked back the way he came, a look of bleak sadness on his face.

He made good time to Dublin. Traffic was light because of the holidays, and as he crossed the Shannon at Athlone his mood lightened, as it always did as the West receded and he drove further
east. Today was different. He was making an effort to leave the past behind him and try and move on with his life. He was looking forward to seeing Alison. He liked her a lot. Liked her humour. He
could never be interested in a woman without a sense of humour, he knew that much about himself, he thought with a wry smile as the rain started to batter the window. He switched on his wipers and
turned on Leonard Cohen, singing ‘Hallelujah’ the way it should be sung.

‘So where did you meet this chap?’ Liam asked as he poured his daughter a cup of coffee after her brunch.

‘He, aah . . . I met him in my building actually.’ It wasn’t
exactly
a lie. ‘He makes the most beautiful furniture. He’s very talented with his
hands.’

‘And he’s from the West? A country boy?’ Esther cupped her hands around her coffee cup and smiled at her daughter. ‘Do you fancy him?’ she asked straight out.

‘Mam!’ Alison protested.

She’s blushing
, noted her mother.
She does
. ‘I always thought you went for city slickers. The suits,’ she said equably.

‘I
don’t
fancy him. He’s a friend. Actually, but please don’t say anything to him about it, he’s . . . er . . . his wife died in a car crash four years ago,
so honestly, it
is
just friendship, so don’t go barking up the wrong tree,’ she warned.

‘Aw God love him. I’m sorry, Alison, I didn’t realize.’ Esther could have kicked herself.

‘He comes home at Christmas to see his parents and to visit the grave. It must be hard. It’s different if you can visit a grave every week or every month, I suppose you adjust at
some level, but when you only get to visit once or twice a year it must make it all very raw. But I’m glad to be his friend, he’s a kind person.’

‘He’s lucky to have you as a friend,’ her father said kindly, giving her hand a squeeze.

‘Your Dad and I were great friends first, before we got . . . romantic . . . weren’t we, Liam? It gave us a real strong bond that’s never been broken.’ Esther kissed the
top of her husband’s head.

‘And we still are the best of friends. Friendship is a great gift to give and receive. Remember that.’ Liam smiled.

‘And are you still seeing Jonathan?’ Esther queried as she wiped the crumbs off the table.

‘Nope!’ Alison said firmly. ‘He’s in the past. I’m footloose and fancy free.’

‘There’s worse ways to be, pet,’ her mother assured her.

‘Yeah, I know that,’ Alison agreed. ‘I’ve never had a problem being on my own.’

‘Don’t we know it,’ Esther said wryly, and gave her a hug. Alison hugged her back. She knew her mother was dreading her departure back to America.

It was just after two when a black VW Golf drew up outside the house. Alison had been keeping an eye out, and she went and opened the front door so that JJ would know he was at the right
address.

‘Hey, Dunwoody.’ His face broke into a smile when he saw her, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way of his.

‘How you doin’, Connelly?’

They met halfway and hugged.

Esther, who was up in her bedroom and had seen the car pull up and heard the exchange, smiled to herself. That was more like it, she thought with satisfaction. JJ Connelly, from what she could
see, was a
real
man. Not like that yoke her daughter had been gadding around with in America. She smoothed her hair, straightened her skirt and went downstairs to meet Alison’s
friend.

‘Did you have a good trip?’ Alison asked, as she led JJ into the house.

‘Got here in good time? You forget that Christmas lasts so long here. Traffic was very light.’

‘Yeah, I know, it’s straight back to work stateside.’ Alison smiled. ‘It’s nice – I’ve really relaxed.’

‘Naps and all?’ He smiled at her, just as Esther walked down the stairs.

‘Mam, this is JJ Connelly, a friend of mine. JJ, this is my mother.’

‘Hello, Mrs Dunwoody, nice to meet you.’ He held out his hand and gave Esther a warm handshake.

‘And you too, JJ. Come in and have a cup of tea and a bite to eat. You must be hungry after the long drive,’ Esther invited.

‘Ah you’re grand; a cup of tea will be lovely,’ he said easily.

‘Come in and sit down and I’ll rustle you up a little snack,’ Esther ordered.

Alison laughed. ‘My mother’s a bossy woman. Poor JJ complains he was bossed around by his sisters.’

‘I was and how,’ he asserted as he followed them into the kitchen.

‘Are you being bossed around by these women, son?’ Liam, who had heard the exchange, held out his hand in greeting.

‘Hello, Mr Dunwoody. I guess there’s no escaping the creatures. Bossiness is in their genes.’

‘You never said a truer word. Sit down there and make yourself at home.’

‘I will so.’ JJ sat down at the table and smiled at Alison.

‘So this is home.’

‘This is home,’ she echoed.

‘I didn’t realize you were so near the sea.’

‘Why don’t you bring JJ down to the end of the garden and show him the view while I’m waiting for the kettle to boil,’ Esther suggested.

‘It’s lovely, not as wild as Connemara, but I love it, I have it on my screensaver,’ she said, glad to get him on her own for a while. She’d realized when her mother was
asking her where she’d met JJ that she hadn’t told him not to mention that she was unemployed.

‘Your folks are very welcoming,’ JJ remarked as they strolled down the garden path to the little wooden picket fence with the wooden gate that led to the top of the bank that
overlooked the sea.

‘They’re great, I love them dearly – and it’s good to have a minute on my own with you because I haven’t told them I’m unemployed or that I’ve moved. I
didn’t want to have them worrying and spoil the party and Christmas for them,’ she explained.

‘Gottcha! Just as well you flagged it up – I might have put my two big feet in it. Didn’t you tell anyone? Have you kept it bottled up the whole time?’ He frowned.

‘Naw, I was pissed one night and let it slip with Olivia.’

‘Good! You need to share things like that,’ he said sternly. ‘That’s what family are for, Miss!’

‘Well that smacks to me of kettles and pots, if you don’t mind my saying so. And who’s being bossy now?’ she said tartly.

JJ laughed. ‘I’ve had no one to practise on since you left New York, woman.’

‘Is that right?’ She grinned at him. ‘So how did Christmas go?’

‘Quiet. Spent a lot of time with the family. The bossy sisters gave me a hard time, wanted to bring me shopping for clothes and everything.’ He grimaced. ‘I . . . um . . . went
to the grave every day. It’s still strange to even say it.’

‘I’m sure that was hard,’ she said quietly.

‘Yep.’ He shrugged.

‘Is it getting any easier?’ she ventured hesitantly.

‘Grief is a strange thing,’ he sighed. ‘You’re motoring along thinking you’re on an even keel and it just smacks you in the face again and you’re right back
at square one. Sometimes when I’m having a good time like that night we played cards, I feel really guilty afterwards. Feel I’ve no business enjoying myself.’ He shoved his hands
in his jeans pockets and stared straight ahead at the pounding sea, his jaw taut. She could see the muscle at the side of his mouth jerking.

‘Ah, JJ,’ Alison exclaimed, putting a comforting hand on his back and giving it a little rub. ‘I’m sure your wife would hate you to feel like that. If it were the other
way around, would
you
want her to feel that way?’

‘Not at all, I’d want her to be happy, want her to move on, of course I would,’ he exclaimed. ‘But it’s hard.’

‘I know,’ she soothed, ‘but you must apply that to yourself, because as long as you grieve for her so desperately you keep her a prisoner too and she can’t move on. You
must let her go free to do what she has to do now.’