Christmas for One: No Greater Love (15 page)

Read Christmas for One: No Greater Love Online

Authors: Amanda Prowse

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Christmas for One: No Greater Love
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‘Oh! You’re Irish,’ Meg observed, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Brenda’s expression remained tight, but the chance to chat about Ireland was irresistible. ‘Yes. I came here in 1974 from Blarney, County Cork. I only intended to stay for six months and I’m still here forty years later. What a waste of a return ticket that was.’ She tutted, as though this fact still irritated her.

Meg loved her accent and lilting tone: soft New York with an Irish undercurrent that transformed ‘i’ into ‘oi’ and made her ‘t’s sound closer to ‘d’s. ‘Blarney as in the Blarney Stone?’ she asked as she took up a seat opposite Brenda.

‘That’s the one. Have you been?’ Brenda leant forward.

‘No,’ Meg confessed, ‘but I’ve heard of it.’

‘Oh.’ Brenda sounded more than a little disappointed. ‘My mammy used to say I hadn’t just kissed the thing, I’d swallowed it whole! I like to talk a lot.’ Brenda tutted again. ‘But there are worse traits, I’m sure. I had to explain about the Blarney Stone to Fl—’

‘Mom!’ Edd raised his voice, interrupting his mother mid flow. ‘We don’t need to hear tales of the Old Country.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Brenda rolled her eyes mockingly.

‘Do you ever go back?’ Meg tried to imagine living this far from Pru and Milly, her family.

Brenda sipped her tea and shook her head. ‘No, not for a long while. My life is here and Ireland is so far away – and very expensive to reach.’ She whispered the last bit as though this were a secret.

‘She doesn’t need to go back,’ Edd said. ‘There’s a steady stream of relatives that come to stay, most of whom I have never heard of until they fly in and take up residence in her spare room. I thought Blarney was a small place, but it can’t be because we’ve had at least a thousand people to visit.’ He raised his eyebrows.

Brenda’s face came alive for the first time as she bantered with her son and her voice took on a different tone altogether. ‘You’re wicked! You should be glad your cousins and sons of cousins and neighbours want to travel all the way here just to say hello.’

‘I
am
glad, Mom. I just wonder if they’d be so keen if we lived in, say, eastern Utah?’

Brenda slapped his hand and smiled, clearly delighted by his words and humour. ‘What difference does it make to you anyway, Edward Odhran Kelly? Sure you’re never home, with your swanky flat that costs you an arm and a leg and doesn’t even have a hook for you to place a wet coat on when you come in of a night! I don’t understand how something can cost so much money and have so little space and storage. You couldn’t even get a cat in that bathroom, let alone swing it!’

‘I told you, Mum, it’s all about living in the right district.’

Brenda waved her hand dismissively. She turned her attention back to Meg. ‘I don’t need to leave the state – people come to me! I’ve got seven relatives coming over for Christmas.’

‘Oh no! Remember, that subject is off-limits!’ Edd shook his head.

‘Well it might be off-limits for you, but I would like to hear your friend’s opinion on a son that can’t travel back to his mother’s home for the holidays.’ She turned to Meg and narrowed her eyes. Meg felt this was a challenge. She stared at Edd, not quite sure where to show allegiance in this mini domestic. She thought of Lucas, knowing she would want him to come home, always.

‘I came home for Thanksgiving! And I’ve told you, Mom, I am working either side of Christmas. I’ve got so many projects on that I need to use those few days off to catch up. I shall eat takeout and work in front of the television. And it’s not as if you’ll be alone. You have half of Blarney coming to sit around your table, fighting over the turkey leg!’

‘True,’ Brenda conceded. ‘I think there’s no place like home.’ This she addressed to Meg. ‘Edward’s daddy and I didn’t travel, not really.’

Meg accepted the natty little cup and saucer that was placed in front of her, smiling at the waitress, who then poured her tea and set two slices of lemon on a tiny tray and a small silver jug of milk by the side.

‘We lost him, you know. Thirteen years ago.’ Brenda sucked in her cheeks, as if the news was still shocking, raw even after all this time.

‘Edd told me.’ Meg paused. ‘I am so sorry.’ She knew from experience that condolences from strangers often sounded hollow and yet the words fell from her almost automatically.

‘He was a wonderful man, wonderful man. Edward looks just like him, which is comforting yet difficult at the same time.’ She took a deep breath.

Meg nodded, thinking again of Lucas. This she understood.

‘We were always very happy. Never had much, but we were happy. We got married on the eleventh of October 1974. I was a wee slip of a thing.’

You still are
, Meg thought.

‘And he died eleventh of September 2001. We nearly made twenty-seven years.’ She sighed and twisted the gold band that was a little loose on her finger as she stared into the distance. ‘He was missing for a long while and then they confirmed there were no more survivors, which I expected, but was still shocked. There was no body, of course, all they found was his battered signet ring, which made it harder and means that there is still a little bit of doubt as to what happened to him.’

Megan considered this, knowing that seeing Bill’s dead body had been horrific, but had nonetheless given her finality, closure. She could only begin to imagine what it must have been like for Brenda, harder to grieve, harder to say goodbye.

‘I still expect him to walk into the house of an evening. I buy his favourite food and I cook enough for two, when I do bother. It’s the little things that get me. He knew how to make me feel safe like no one else ever could.’ Brenda inhaled strongly and dug deep to find a smile. Patting the linen tablecloth, she tried to change the tone. ‘He’d be so proud of Edward, of course. He’s the first on both sides to go to college and get a degree, but he always was very clever. You could give him a box of random blocks and he’d build something nice – and now he’s an architect!’

‘Yes.’ Meg sipped her tea. ‘That’s how we met.’

‘Oh.’ Brenda smiled. ‘I must admit I was wondering what the connection was. Are you an architect too?’

‘No, I was never that clever. I work for Plum Patisserie, in London. I’m here to help get the new store opened and Edd is running the project.’

‘A baker then?’ Brenda’s words dripped with disapproval. She clearly did not see a baker being a good match for her architect son. ‘How long have you known each other?’

Meg looked at her watch. ‘Nearly forty-eight hours.’ She smiled at Edd, who nodded his confirmation.

‘Well I never. And you called me just this morning!’ Brenda couldn’t hide her astonishment as she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow at her son, who blushed. She turned to Meg, trying to figure out the significance of this pretty young woman. ‘And you live in New York now?’

‘No, London.’

‘So you are moving to New York?’ Brenda was struggling.

‘No. I’m only here until tomorrow.’ Meg drew a sharp breath at this. ‘I have to get back to my son, my little boy, Lucas. He’s four.’

‘You have a
son
? Forgive me, I didn’t know you were married.’ Her loaded statement was directed at them both. Her gaze went from Meg to Edward and back again as her lips formed a thin line.

‘I’m not.’ Meg placed her hand on her chest.
Ssssshhh…

Brenda drew back in her chair and Meg watched as the shadow of disapproval crept across the woman’s face. Her eyes were bright like chips of amber and her tongue seemed to be chafing at her teeth, desperate to launch the words that gathered in her mouth.

‘Lucas’s dad died while I was pregnant with him.’ It was Meg’s turn to look into the middle distance.

‘I see.’ Brenda’s tone softened slightly as she leant forward. ‘That must be tough. You’re so young.’

‘It is in some ways, but I have a lot of support. And, well… your normal is your normal, isn’t it? You don’t know any different, do you?’

‘I guess not.’ Brenda gave a brief smile. ‘We were lucky to get Edward; he was our little miracle. We tried for years, but the fallopian tubes were blocked.’ She pointed downwards with her forefinger, under the table to where her fallopian tubes lurked beneath the linen cloth.

Meg nodded awkwardly at the sudden detail revealed in this most fashionable of surroundings. She found it funny that the mention of money had warranted a whisper, yet Brenda was apparently happy to shout to the world about her medical condition.

‘After nearly ten years we went to one of these fertility experts, which cost us a fortune. Edward’s father said, “You’ve got one shot, if this doesn’t work we’ll be getting a puppy and saying no more about it!” Well, we got the puppy, but my treatment
did
work and we got Edward too.’

‘And that right there is the story of my mother’s fallopian tubes!’ Edd laughed into his palm, shaking his head.

‘Oh, it’s only girl talk, isn’t that right, Meg?’ Brenda let a smile briefly flit across her lips, forming an alliance of sorts. ‘Aww, he was a lovely little thing. Had a lazy eye and would widdle on the front-room rug, but he was so affectionate.’

‘Just to be clear, she’s talking about the dog, Meg, not me.’ Edd winked at her.

‘You were a special baby.’ Brenda smiled at her son. ‘And he’s a special man. Just like his daddy.’ This she directed at Meg. The tilt of her head made Meg feel she was being warned.

The next hour passed in a flash. Brenda wiped her mouth on a napkin, the only one of the trio to have indulged in a scone with jam and cream – which apparently wasn’t a patch on the ones she made at home and for a fraction of the cost. When it was time to go, she held her handbag in both hands and leant backwards, meaning there was no possibility of a hug, handshake or, God forbid, a kiss. ‘It was lovely to meet
another
of Edward’s friends.’ She nodded.

Meg stood and smiled, unsure if she was being told there were other friends just like her, so she was nothing special, or whether it was an acknowledgement that she and Edd were closer than colleagues. It was impossible to call.

She nodded. ‘I’ve really enjoyed meeting you. I wish I was here for longer, we could do it all again!’ she burbled.

‘Hmmm.’ Brenda lifted her coat from the back of the chair. ‘Edward, you need to be getting straight home. You have a busy day tomorrow, I’m sure,’ she said with a straight face as she stared at her son.

Edd waved his mother off into the cab that would take her to Grand Central Station. He turned to Meg and laughed. She followed suit. Both were embarrassed and euphoric, but for very different reasons.

‘Let’s walk for a bit!’ Meg linked her arm with Edd’s as he buttoned up his navy pea coat. ‘Your mum’s great. I really hope she didn’t hear what I said to you – that was so embarrassing.’ She hid her eyes behind her fingers.

‘Don’t worry about it, she likes you.’ He pulled her hand from her face and kept it inside his.

‘I don’t
feel
like she liked me.’

‘Aww, that’s just Mom, right? A little over-protective.’ He shrugged.

Meg made a mental note to always make Lucas’s girlfriends feel welcome and accepted.

‘Her bark is worse than her bite. She is very protective, but rest assured, she is going to like anyone that likes me.’ Edd beamed. ‘And you do like me, don’t you?’ he said as he nudged her with his elbow. It was part question, part statement.

Meg nodded, still feeling awkward, confused by the intensity of her feelings for this relative stranger. ‘She obviously misses your dad.’

Edd slowed. ‘She does. They were good together, great friends. He brought out the best in her, that’s for sure. They did everything as a couple. I think she feels cheated; he worked long hours and they always talked about what life would be like when he stopped work. They made plans to move to a condo, go fishing. It’s a shame they never got that. My dad always said he knew the first time he spoke to her that she was the girl he was going to marry. I was always kind of sceptical, I figured she was more like “the one at that moment in time” and then they just got lucky!’

‘And what do you think now?’ Meg asked.

Edd placed his arm along her shoulder and drew her against him on the busy pavement. ‘Now? I think I know exactly what he meant.’

‘You’re a charmer, Edward Odhran!’ She slipped her arm around his waist.

‘I wondered how long it would take to get to that.’ He sighed.

‘It’s the first time I’ve mentioned it!’ She laughed.

‘But not the last, am I right?’

‘Probably not.’ Meg threw her head back and chuckled as they walked into the oncoming crowds. A bubble of happiness formed in her stomach and spread to her throat.

The two stepped confidently along the streets, Meg guided by her native New Yorker. They stood on the opposite side of the road to the Apple building, admiring the vast glass box and the way part of it was visible beneath the pavement as well. The clean white logo shone brightly in the snowy darkness.

‘Taxi!’ Edd shot his arm out into the oncoming traffic.


Another
taxi?’ she asked.

‘All part of your magical mystery tour.’ He smiled, shielding her from any snow spray as the yellow Lincoln Town Car pulled in towards them.

It was a full half hour later that their cab came to a stop on Broadway in Lower Manhattan, in front of St Paul’s Chapel, Trinity Church. Edd opened the car door and helped her out on to the whitening pavement, where the snow flurries were now beginning to settle.

They stood and looked up at the impressive building. Meg ran her hands over the gilt-tipped, arrow-shaped railings that surrounded the beautiful portico and its four reddish stone columns. Light from a large arched window shone out into the darkness and spilled over a tall monument.

Edd stepped up close behind her. ‘This is a very special church.’ His voice was quiet.

Meg cast her eyes over the two ornate lamps that sat high on the wall above the doorways.

‘George Washington prayed here.’ Edd began. ‘It’s very close to Ground Zero and when the towers fell on 9/11 nearly everything around it was destroyed or damaged. But not St Paul’s. It is incredible that it survived and not only survived but stayed completely intact, didn’t even have a broken pane of glass, nothing. What do you make of that?’

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