Never Too Late (75 page)

share because Ewan’s going to be in with me. Poor Rosie is

in bits because there’s no room for her in the annexe. Evie

can’t understand it because Vida has a lovely bedroom

with a half-tester bed in it for Rosie.’

‘Rosie probably thinks we’ll all be drinking and sitting

up till very late being wild,’ Zoe said, ‘and she’s wrong.

Phoebe will be watching old films all day, I’ll be going

round like a mad woman at the relief of missing the

testosterone-filled war zone at home, and you and Ewan will be breaking the new bed in your bedroom as you practise for the Sexual Olympics.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ retorted Cara goodhumouredly. She

was feeling so very happy. She was spending Christmas

with Ewan, her family and the girls. Vida’s idea had been a

marvellous one. The new house in Ballymoreen was finally

finished, a masterpiece of Victorian architecture and a

testament to Andrew’s ability to sweet talk the builders

into actually finishing it when they’d said they would.

The main house had five bedrooms, four reception

rooms and a huge, stone-floored kitchen where the dogs,

Gooch and Jessie, took great delight in sliding up and

down on the tiles when they were excited. One of the

stables had been converted into a self-contained apartment

with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a large kitchen-cum

sitting room with a real fireplace.

When Cara had turned down the offer of a family

Christmas at home and explained that she was going to

stay in Dublin with Phoebe for the holidays because she

was getting so much grief from her father about being

pregnant and unmarried, Vida had immediately suggested

the annexe.

‘You can be in peace there and do your own thing but

it’d be lovely to have you with us over the holiday,’ she

said hopefully. ‘Phoebe could do with a change of scene,

I’m sure, to help her get over being abandoned by that

awful boyfriend of hers. Your father would be heartbroken

if you didn’t come to us.’

Zoe, hearing about the plan, had immediately given Cara

a sad-eyed, And rex-puppy look that plainly said, ‘Please,

please, can I come too?’

It was now two days before Christmas and they were

leaving on the six o’clock bus that evening. The morning’s

shopping had yielded all sorts of Christmas gifts and plenty

of edible goodies for the holiday. But nothing was

wrapped, nobody had packed so much as a pair of knickers

and Zoe had been saying she had to drop home and grab

her stuff for at least the past hour.

‘Why don’t you wrap the presents and I’ll start packing?’

Cara suggested to Phoebe. And you go home, for God’s

sake,’ she added to Zoe, who was now reading Cara’s

horoscope, ‘it’s nearly three and we have to leave here at

half-four to get to the bus.’

‘ “Librans will be fulfilled this Yuletide,” ‘ Zoe giggled.

‘You can say that again! Ewan is very keen on fulfilling

you. “They should be aware of overindulging in rich foods

but this will be a time of rejoicing for them.”

‘Go home,’ Cara said, shooing her out into the hall. ‘I

will not be rejoicing if we miss the bus because of you, you

big eejit.’

‘Ah, sure, if we miss it, we can all drive down with Ewan

tomorrow afternoon,’ protested Zoe, who hated travelling

on buses.

‘Oh, yeah? Four suitcases, ten bags of presents, three

boxes filled with chocolates, booze and cake, and four

people are going to fit into one small sports car? Get out.

We are not missing the bus and that’s that.’

In the end, they made the bus at the very last minute

which meant the luggage compartment was almost totally

full with the other travellers’ Christmas packages and the

three of them would have to sit with boxes and bags on

their laps for the entire journey.

‘I’ll kill you, Zoe.’ muttered Cara, failing to get comfortable as the bus edged along in the horrendous Christmas

traffic, moving a foot at a time. ‘The journey is going to

take three hours at this rate and I’ll have no circulation left in my legs with this box on my lap.’

‘Ah, shut up,’ said Zoe from the seat in front, just as uncomfortable with the wine box on her lap. ‘We got here, didn’t we?’

Battling hordes of crazed Christmas shoppers desperate

to abandon cars in the already-jammed city centre car

parks, the bus crawled out of Dublin at a snail’s pace. The

Christmas spirit was noticeably absent with much bickering

about being squashed and grumbling that the heating

didn’t work.

‘I’m buying a car next year,’ Cara growled to Phoebe,

who was beside her. But Phoebe was asleep, her round face

content as she slept, hands clasped around her belly,

protecting her precious cargo. Cara smiled. Her flatmate

was being so strong about having this baby on her own. If

she could deal with that and with being dumped by Ricky,

then it was ludicrous Cara and Zoe bitching about being

stuck on a crowded bus. So they’d be squashed for a while?

Big deal.

The bus driver had had enough of his bad-tempered

passengers. He slotted a tape of Christmas carols into the

tape deck. As the sound of a children’s choir singing ‘Silent

Night’ drifted into the air, the entire bus seemed to take a

collective breath and remember the whole point of the

season. A hand holding a packet of toffees shot back from

the seat in front. ‘D’you want a sweet?’ hissed Zoe, her red

head appearing around the back.

‘Love one,’ said Cara. ‘Sorry I was so cross with you. I’m

a bad-tempered old cow sometimes.’

‘That makes two of us,’ Zoe agreed.

They chewed their toffees companionably for a while. “I

think I’ll try and doze,’ Cara said eventually, realising that

the journey would feel like forever if she couldn’t block

some of it out.

She closed her eyes but couldn’t sleep. There were so

many things to think about that she just couldn’t switch off.

Ewan, lovely Ewan, was in her head all the time. They’d

discussed moving in together and the very thought of it gave

Cara a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. Imagine waking

up with him every morning, sharing the bathroom with

him, curling up watching TV together, doing the grocery

shopping together, spending hours in bed on Saturday

mornings, reading, snoozing, making love …

The only problem was Phoebe. Cara didn’t want to

abandon her friend in her time of need. If only they could

get two flats together so that they could be just down the

hail if she needed anything. Then they could both help

looking after the baby. Cara rather liked the idea of that.

She could imagine herself and Ewan strolling along the

canal, talking baby talk and pointing out the swans and

ducks. Phoebe had already insisted that Cara should be

godmother.

‘You’ve got to be,’ she said at least once a day. ‘You’re so

good to me, coming with me to scans and stuff.’

‘Your mother would go with you if you asked her,’ Cara

said delicately, hoping to heal the rift that Phoebe’s desperately religious father had started within her family.

‘She hasn’t so far,’ Phoebe replied gloomily.

The next thing Cara knew, Zoe was shaking her awake.

‘We’re here. Get up or the bus will drive off again and God

knows where we’ll end up.’

Like the three wise men burdened with gifts, the three

of them staggered off the bus. Andrew stood waiting for

them.

‘Dad!’ Cara practically collapsed against him from the

weight she was carrying. ‘I’ve never been so pleased to see

anyone in my life.’

He hugged her back tightly. I’m so glad you’re here,

love,’ he said. ‘So glad. Christmas just wouldn’t have been

the same if you hadn’t come.’

‘Unfortunately,’ said Zoe, ‘you’ve got us pair into the

bargain.’

Andrew gave her and Phoebe hugs as well. ‘We’re

thrilled to have you all. Vida has lasagne, baked potatoes

and mulled wine waiting for you, and the dogs are hysterical

with the excitement. They know someone is coming

and every time the doorbell rings, they go insane. Gooch

has all his teddies lined up inside the back door, ready to

give them to guests as presents. Just be warned, girls:

Gooch’s teddies are all covered in drool and dog food.’

Cara beamed as she started shoving bags and boxes into

the boot of her father’s car. It was wonderful to be home.

Olivia shut the front door, dropped her briefcase and bags

on to the hall floor and levered her feet out of the spindly

stilettos she’d worn to the office party. It had still been in

full swing when she’d left, despite the fact that it had

started at lunchtime and the time was now seven o’clock.

The Wake Up Morning Show set in Studio One would

never be the same again, what with all the booze spilt on

Nancy’s precious settees and the amount of abuse the

fragile set had been given by giggling and sozzled staff

falling over things as they danced to the seventies disco

music some bright spark had put on.

‘Don’t go, Olivia,’ Kevin had wailed when she’d said

goodbye to everyone and put her plastic cup of mineral

water down on the only inch of the make-shift bar that

wasn’t already covered with wine bottles and empty cups.

A silver paper hat sat sideways on top of Kevin’s

peroxide crop and there were multi-coloured streamers

hanging around his neck. He was plastered.

He threw his arms around her. ‘Don’t go,’ he pleaded,

breathing booze fumes at her. ‘We love you, don’t we,

everyone:

Anyone who could still speak slurred, ‘Yesh.’

‘See?’ Kevin was so proud. ‘Nobody would say yesh for

Nancy’

Olivia kissed her friend and confidant on the cheek and

untangled herself ‘I have to go home, it’s a special night for

Stephen and me.’

‘Sorry. Forgot. Hope it all works out for you both.

Kissy-kissy and I’ll see you in January.’

Olivia put her winter coat in the hall cupboard and

padded quietly to the kitchen door.

Something that smelled delicious was bubbling away in

the oven. Stephen had his back to the door and was bent over

the sink. Sasha was sitting up at the table, small face solemn

as she inexpertly stuck cotton wool on to Santa’s crayoned-in

red hat. Scraps of paper, crayons, fluorescent pens and a tube

of child-friendly glue lay scattered on the table.

‘How are you getting on with Santa?’ asked Stephen,

moving away from the worktop where he was washing

peppers for the salad to go with the coq au inn he’d been

labouring over.

Neither of them had heard Olivia come into the apartment.

She watched silently, her heart bursting with happiness

at the scene in front of her.

Stephen bent over Sasha, nuzzling her hair as he

admired her handiwork.

‘That’s very good. You’re so clever,’ he said proudly.

‘It’s for you and Mummy,’ Sasha said, still concentrating

on her cotton wool.

‘Mummy loves it,’ Olivia murmured, going over to the

table. She kissed the top of Sasha’s head then turned to

Stephen. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her

full on the mouth. He tasted of garlic. He tasted wonderful.

She kissed him back, closing her eyes and giving in to

the sensation.

‘I didn’t expect you back so soon.’

‘I wanted to leave for ages, I wanted to get home to you

two. But it was so difficult. Linda’s about the only sober

person left at the party,’ Olivia explained. ‘The studio is a

disaster area and she kept wandering round, saying, “We’ll

never get this fixed!”

‘I’m delighted you’re home early,’ Stephen said, still

holding on to her.

‘Christmas starts here.’ Olivia leaned her head tiredly on

his shoulder.

‘I don’t know why we never did this before: have

Christmas at home on our own,’ Stephen sighed. ‘It’s so

relaxed here, just the three of us.’

‘And the guinea pig,’ Sasha piped up.

Her parents burst out laughing. Santa had been asked for

a guinea pig. Two were arriving the next day, complete

with a palace of a hutch and all sorts of guinea pig goodies.

‘Just the five of us for Christmas, then,’ whispered

Olivia into Stephen’s ear before nibbling it tenderly.

He held her closer to him. ‘If you keep doing that,’ he

said with a smirk, ‘there’ll be six of us next Christmas.’

She smiled contentedly. ‘That sounds wonderful.’ she

said dreamily.

Evie unearthed her handbag from behind the driver’s

seat, pulled her coat on over her old sweatshirt and

locked the door. She felt exhausted after the drive down

to Ballymoreen. It had been all endless traffic and

maddened drivers overtaking on dangerous corners.

Thanks to the traffic, it was now half-nine at night and

Evie wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed in

her own home and not have to make polite conversation

with anyone. There was no chance of that.

As soon as they’d pulled up outside Andrew and Vida’s

new home, Rosie had bounced out of the car and run