Heart and Soul (53 page)

“We never did this before,” Ciara said anxiously.

“No, that's not true, but it's still very nice. What time's Barbara coming?”

“She's downstairs having coffee with Mam. She's looking terrific.”

“Is she dressed?”

“Yeah, she's all glammed up. She says you're to take your time. Have a shower and she'll come up and help you then.”

“If I eat much more of this, she'll have to sew me into my dress.”

“That's what your friend did to her apparently. David. He sewed her into her dress. She was telling Mam.”

Fiona shook her head. Her sisters were both daft. They never got the right end of any stick in their lives.

There was a crowd outside the church when Fiona and her father arrived. Father Flynn had encouraged everyone to come and cheer on the wedding. There were even photographers and journalists asking where the bride and groom were from. They were disappointed to find out that they were both Dubliners. They were hoping this would be more exotic, maybe even a celebrity wedding.

•   •   •   

“Thanks, Dad, for everything,” Fiona said at the church door.

“I can't tell you how happy your mother and I are today. Like when we think …” he stopped.

“Let's not think about things like that, Dad. Not today,” Fiona said.

“How did you get to be so bloody serene all of a sudden?” Barbara hissed at her.

“How
did you
get into that dress?” Fiona hissed back.

“David sewed me into it this morning. He's a peach, David. Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“I did tell you.” Fiona was stung. “That's why I got you to give him a room.”

“Girls!” Fiona's father was very firm. “Enough of this. The music is playing. We have to walk the walk.”

And as the sun shone through the windows of what had once been a biscuit factory, Fiona heard the music begin. If her life had depended on it, she could not have identified what they were playing, even though she had chosen it herself. She saw everyone in the church stand up and they got a nod from Father Brian at the altar.

They were off.

At the altar, Declan turned around. Walking slowly toward him was the most beautiful girl in the world. She looked dazzling in her Indian silk dress, she carried yellow and white roses in a bouquet. The dress was plain and classic, letting the fabric speak: it was like some designer creation, yet Declan knew it had been made by Ania, with advice from her mother.

The church was crowded, but Fiona never once looked around her to take in the surroundings: she walked on toward him, her face one big radiant smile. She was going to be his wife in a few moments from now.

Declan closed his eyes for two seconds at the wonder of it all.

Hilary didn't care who saw her crying; she didn't even bother to wipe her face.

Clara felt a tear coming out of the corner of her eye, and to her astonishment Frank Ennis passed her a tissue.

There might have been fifty such scenes in the congregation— but Declan and Fiona saw none of them.

Nothing could take their eyes away from each other.

Father Flynn had asked only one favor, that the speeches be kept brief. He had been told by a very wise person that there was one rule to remember: you can never be too short or too flattering. He told this to Fionas father, who might easily have been long-winded. He also mentioned it to Johnny, who as best man would certainly have felt it necessary to make some risqué jokes—but one look at Father Flynn's face made him lose the original script.

The photographer, Mouth Mangan, was as good as his word and remarkably speedy. There was no endless hanging about. Father Flynn took his business card in case they should need his services again.

The hall was a delight. The huge buffet tables were so welcoming, and a legion of Simon's and Maud's friends were doing what was called work experience: passing drinks around and helping people to fill their plates.

Everywhere Fiona and Declan looked they saw friends and well-wishers. Fiona felt bathed in such happiness she could even be nice to Rosemary Walsh.

“Thank you again for the really wonderful picnic basket,” she said. “It was
such
a generous gift.”

“Good, good. You wrote a very nice letter. One does try. It's such an
odd
thing to want. Bobby and I thought the only thing to do was to try and get you a top-class one.”

“And you did, Mrs. Walsh. It's quite splendid. Can I introduce you to anyone? My mother? Declan's mother?”

“I don't think so, dear. Who is that lady with the lined face and the colored skirt? The one who looks like a Gypsy.”

“That's Vonni. She came from Greece specially.”

“And
is
she a Gypsy?”

“No, not at all. She runs a craft shop there.”

“And is she Greek?”

“Irish.”

“Heavens! She does look interesting.”

“I'll bring her over to meet you,” Fiona said and made her way over to Vonni's side. She clutched Vonni's arm and whispered, “Only one really poisonous person here and she said she'd like to meet you. She was the one who behaved so badly to Ania. Remember, I told you?”

“Lead me to her,” Vonni said, with a gleam in her eye.

“Gently, Vonni,” Fiona warned.

“Like silk,” Vonni promised.

Everyone said the speeches were a delight: short and warm. What more could you want?

The food was delicious and Fiona had asked for three cheers for the caterers whose first official function this was. Only the cake and the dancing remained.

Vonni had love-bombed Rosemary Walsh almost out of her wheelchair with her praise and delight for the new Irish, and how they had arrived just when the Celts needed them. Rosemary had never met such a forceful argument and found herself stammering agreement.

Linda and Nick told their mothers that they didn't want to upstage Fiona's day, but they thought they might well get married in this church and have the reception in this hall.

“You're getting
married
?” Hilary and Clara spoke in unison, their mouths round in shock and pleasure.

They had hoped and plotted that the two young people would get together, but actually getting married? It was beyond their wildest dreams.

Ania kept an eye on the wheelchairs so that she could give any assistance if it was needed.

“Ania?”

“Yes, Mrs. Walsh?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

“It's a bit awkward.”

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, Mrs. Walsh? I can take you there easily.” Ania was ready to be helpful as usual.

“No, no, nothing like that. It's about what I said to you and to Carl. I am
so
sorry.”

“But that's all a long time ago. It's long ago. Forgotten now.”

“Carl hasn't forgotten. His face is cold and hard. He is my only child. If you and he were to marry, you would be my only daughter-in-law and your children my only grandchildren. I can't bear to think that I have lost all this with my stupid remarks.”

“No, no, believe me, Mrs. Walsh.”

“Could you call me Rosemary?”

“No, that would be difficult. Look—Carl must take his own time to make his peace. Me? I have made my peace with you. I love your son. I hope to make him happy, but I don't want to do anything to force his hand. Is that the expression?”

“That's the expression, Ania. You are very bright. I am just a blind person.”

“You are a person who needs some wedding cake. I will go and get you some,” said Ania.

Rosemary watched her in her elegant dress go across the room talking to this person and that. She realized that only a few weeks ago she herself was doing that at her ruby wedding party.

And look at her now.

Tom and Cathy Feather came just as the cake was being sliced to see how their protégés had fared. It all seemed to have been a glorious success. They had followed all their training too about leftovers. These had been sealed in plastic bags and put into the freezer.

The dancing had started. The bride and groom began to dance to the music of “True Love.” Then the parents and their spouses. The best man went over to ask the maid of honor, but she was already dancing with David, so Johnny asked Fiona's sister Ciara instead. Then Declan's uncle asked Hilary to dance. Carl and Ania followed them to the dance floor. Linda and Nick danced close together, planning their own wedding. And Tim and Lidia joined them. They had their plans too. They were going to buy and renovate a house out on the coast. Bobby reached over and took Rosemary's hand.

“That's what I have for you, Rosemary. ‘Love forever true.’ That's the way it feels to me,” he said.

“Thank you, dear Bobby,” she said.

It had been a long time since she had called him “dear Bobby”

Clara looked up as Frank Ennis approached her. He looked very well, almost roguish, in his outfit.

“You promised me a dance,” he said.

“And I'm delighted you remembered.”

“You're the most stylish woman in the room,” he said as they danced together.

He was lighter and less blundering than she might have expected.

“Thank you. You look pretty racy yourself. What about the lady you're meant to be escorting?”

“She's having an affair with a bottle of wine,” Frank said.

“Right, no guilt then.” Clara smiled at him.

“Are you properly divorced and everything?” he asked as they negotiated a corner.

“Yes, I will be shortly,” she said.

“Good,” he said.

“What has this got to do with the hospital board?”

“Nothing. It's me. I won't see you at work anymore and I want to see you socially.”

“Why won't you see me at work anymore?”

“Your year is up next month,” Frank Ennis said.

“Oh, balls, Frank, I'm not leaving. There's far too much to do. Far too many battles to be fought and won. You know that. I know that.”

And he said nothing. Just put his arms around her more closely as the whole heart clinic and their friends and relations danced to the music of “Hey Jude.”