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Authors: Mary Elizabeth Coen

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Billy’s friends began arriving, among them his sister Louise and her husband, two other couples and three single men varying in ages from forty to fifty. I didn’t think any of the
men attractive, which was just as well because I would have had to compete with Ella who was charming the pants off them. “Is Ella a bit …
racy
?” Liz whispered, watching
the three men roaring with laughter for the umpteenth time at another of Ella’s jokes.

“Not in the slightest, but she has PhD in flirting. Something you and I were never very adept at,” I replied.

Billy approached with two Bellinis in hand. “We need to get a bit of atmosphere going, girls. Upstairs to the dance room!”

“Have you had a chance to chat to James, yet?” I asked Liz, in the hallway.

“Not really … He’s very camp, isn’t he?” She was obviously worried by his Hamlet costume replete with tights and pointy shoes.

“Only when he’s out enjoying himself. You’d never think he was gay if you met him in college.” As he came up the stairs, I called him over to join us. “James, Liz
is afraid her son is going to become very camp now that he’s come out of the closet.”

James laughed. “Not necessarily. There are all types of gay men just like there are all types of straight guys. They’re not all camp. In fact, they’re often very
‘manly’. And most don’t go in for cross-dressing.” My sister had lived a very cosseted life, unaware of what goes on in the wider world, but as James chatted openly to her
about gay men, she began to visibly relax.

The hall was filling as everyone drifted up from downstairs. Billy arrived at my side, collapsing on one knee, his two arms outspread in a dramatic gesture: “Kate, my dearest witch, will
you join me in leading everyone on to the dance floor, please?”

“Of course, my dear warlock,” I said, giving him my hand. As we entered the dining room, converted to look like a club with black and silver balloons, Lady Gaga’s “Poker
Face” started playing. Ella went into high performance mode, pretending to be the singer. Her youngest hanger-on looked on admiringly as she threw theatrical shapes on the dance floor. Out of
the corner of my eye, I noticed Liz had unwittingly attracted the attention of the older one and James was chatting with the third guy who was by far the best looking.

Within minutes, the dance floor was full as everyone joined us for a good old fashioned boogey. Liz bumped hips with me, like we used to do as teenagers in Wesley when up-and-coming bands played
the odd gig
.
I remembered seeing four very young men bursting with confidence and with strange names like The Edge and Bono. They weren’t bad, I’d thought, as I sat out one song
beside a stocky youth who turned to me saying: “U2 are gonna be big.” I thought his grammar was appalling as he repeated the sentence three times, until he explained the band’s
name was U2. “A mate of mine is in the band,” he enthused. “They’re gonna be big.”

Billy said something as we danced but I couldn’t hear him over the music. I moved closer for him to whisper in my ear, “You were always a great mover, Kate, but I never saw Liz let
it all hang out before.”

And why not? I thought, throwing myself more fully into the moment and dancing with wild abandon. So much, that I didn’t notice Billy had swapped over to dance with Ella, until the man
opposite me took my hand and swung me around to a Beyoncé track. He was a brilliant dancer and much to my surprise, I found myself moving easily as he twirled me around, drawing me in and
out. He tried chatting in between but as always it was difficult to compete with the noise. I had no interest in hanging around with him after the dancing in case he misunderstood my intentions, so
I was glad when James joined me during a break in the music. I sneaked a look around the room to check Liz wasn’t yet falling down but I couldn’t see any sign of her. Ella and Billy
seemed to be getting on like a house on fire as I overheard Ella mention coffee imports.

“Oh yes,” James informed me. “Billy has promised to use Ella as one of his suppliers for this shop of his.”

“Looking at the body language between the two of them, I think there could be a bit of chemistry there,” I said, observing their legs crossed towards each other and Billy’s
hand on Ella’s knee as they sat side by side.

“Nobody here that interests you?” James asked, throwing a glance at the man I’d been dancing with.

“No, he’s a nice guy but I feel all the men I meet seem to meld into one another. They’re all so eager to tell me how eligible they are. I find it boring at this stage.”
Suddenly my attention was drawn to a figure standing on a makeshift podium beside the DJ. I hadn’t previously noticed the little stage but there was no missing it now that a spotlight had
been trained on it. The DJ was handing Liz a microphone.

“Oh no! I have to stop her from making a fool of herself!” Sober, my sister would never sing karaoke – she would be furious with me in the morning for letting this happen.

“Leave her alone. You need to stop worrying about other people, Kate. It’s not good for you.” James pulled me back as Liz started singing Blondie’s seventies hit
“One way or another”. All eyes were on her as she shimmied and gyrated, all the while retaining her elegance. I used to envy her when she sang this so well as a teenager. I’d
never been a songstress. Catching my eye, she suddenly beckoned me to join her. When I shook my head, she persisted until the DJ held up a second microphone. Everyone stamped their feet and clapped
incessantly, shouting “Kate! Kate! Kate!” until I relented and joined her on the podium. At first I croaked out the words in a hoarse whisper. This was my worst nightmare, ever since a
nun had told me as a five year old never to sing in public because I was a crow. But buoyed on by the crowd’s enthusiasm, I eventually started singing along and enjoying myself. Afterwards
the DJ ran straight into “Sisters are doing it for themselves” and much to my surprise we remembered all of Annie Lennox’s dramatic hand gestures and dance moves. Towards the end,
we looked at each other and began laughing convulsively in between words. That was it. We couldn’t attempt another song, which was just as well since there was a queue waiting to take their
turn.

We had a blast, with the action carrying on until five in the morning, when we finally crawled upstairs barefoot, with pinched toes and aching pelvises, exhausted but happy. It was the first
time I had really managed to let my hair down since Trevor dumped me. It was easier to remain balanced and enjoy myself when I didn’t have to worry about a partner. If I was with a man I
would have spent most of the evening worried about him being happy. Alone, I felt carefree.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-five

F
loorboards creaked and pipes rattled in the ancient plumbing system as the house came to life the next morning. Billy was right about one
thing – period houses are like old aunties. I might add that they are like old aunties with digestive problems. The banging and clattering of the central heating sounded like a steam
locomotive gathering speed as the old pipes expanded and contracted. After waking Liz around noon, I headed down to the kitchen. Soon Billy and James descended for brunch. Ella arrived in some time
later with Liz on her heels.

“I have a splitting headache,” Liz whispered as she sat beside me. “What happened last night?”

“You had the time of your life.” I said, laughing. “Never knew you were such a party girl.”

“I’m not, Kate, and you know it. I hope I didn’t make a fool of myself?” She anxiously searched our faces.

“No, you were very sensible,” James assured her. “Apart from the strip tease to entertain the men …”


Kate, please tell me I didn’t?”

“Don’t worry, it was very tasteful and you have a great body,” Billy chimed in.

I knew by her face that she was about to burst out crying and make a run for the door so I had no choice but to tell her we were just messing. She sighed with relief. “I could kill the lot
of you for making me sweat that one.”

As everyone finished laughing, Billy placed a large flat box on the table in front of me. “Happy birthday, Kate.” He put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek.

“And I could kill you for embarrassing me by buying me a present after throwing me such a wonderful party,” I said, pulling open the purple ribbon. It was a beautiful decorative box
that could be reused for storing clothing on an open shelf. Lifting the flap-over lid, I peeked inside to see copious layers of white tissue paper. I tore open the sticky paper seal on the tissue
to reveal an envelope. I shook it and something rattled inside.

“What’s this?” I pulled out a large heavy key. “I thought keys were for twenty-first birthday parties?” Was I missing out on some joke that everyone else was in
on?

“It’s the key to your new work place,” Billy whooped.

I was still not getting the joke; I felt myself blushing.

“Kate. The job is yours. You’re my new cookery school teacher. The French woman couldn’t take it after all.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. And I hope that’s a yes this time.”

“Yes … Oh definitely, yes!” I was hugging him and jumping up and down for joy as everyone cheered. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders and my heart sung at the prospect of
coming to work in this beautiful place. It was a wish come true for me. A sign from the universe that my life was finally coming together.

 

 

It had seemed a waste, Ella, James and I driving in tandem, rather than travelling in one car. Yet we had discussed it and felt it afforded each of us a better choice of when to
depart and which route to chose. As it turned out, I stayed an extra couple of hours at Billy’s in order to see the cookery school and discuss plans. James headed straight back to Galway and
Ella was planning a circuitous route around Wicklow in the hope of finding fresh outlets to sell her coffee.

As I was passing through the picturesque village of Enniskerry on my way home, I spotted her coming out of a supermarket. A few seconds later my phone beeped. She wanted me to meet her for
coffee in a nearby café. As I parked my car, a heavy shower started up. I sprinted across the village square to Poppies café. Inside, Ella was installed at a table earnestly studying
her small red diary, pen in hand. “I’ve just been out to Avoca in Powersourt, Kate,” she said excitedly as I joined her. “And they’re willing to stock my coffee.
It’s a really important deal – they may also be willing to sell some of the costume jewellery I’ve sourced!”

“Congratulations, Ella. That’s brilliant news. I’m delighted for you.”

“Great news for you too, Kate. You must be thrilled.”

“What would you like, ladies?” asked a foreign girl with blonde hair, holding up a notepad and pencil.

Ella ordered an Americano and I ordered a soya decaf latte. “Have you gone vegetarian?” Ella asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Not really. Just a phase.” As I spoke I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head to distribute the wetness more evenly through my curls. Just as I was about to turn back to
focus on Ella, a poster on the opposite wall caught my eye. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?”

“Back in a minute,” I said, getting up from my chair to walk over to the poster. Two women nearby stared at me, then started whispering to each other. I couldn’t believe my
eyes. I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I tried to make sense of what I was looking at. The poster featured a painting by Geoff, advertising his new art exhibition “The
Goddess” to be held on the twenty-second of November in a Dun Laoghaire art gallery. The painting depicted the Goddess Hekate strolling through a forest at moonlight. It was based on the
photograph he had taken of me that day in Coole Park – though with a magnificent wolf-like husky on her lead rather than the labrador dog I’d held. The Goddess Hekate was unmistakably
me.

“What is it, Kate?” Ella had come over for a look. “Oh my God, it’s by that artist fellah, isn’t it? James told me that Lorna’s friend Jennie had been wrong
about him being the father.”

“Come on, we better sit back down. Everyone’s looking at us.” I hurried back across the room to our table.

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