The Matchmaker (41 page)

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let me get you something a bit stronger.’

Sarah was off sitting on her own with Angus, their heads bent close together, engrossed in talking. Anna was still bouncing with Evie, skirt flying in the air, and Maggie was laughing her head off with Gerry and Helen and Oscar, knocking back another glass of wine.

‘I’ve a lovely burgundy,’ Mark offered, leading her over towards the park bench.

The wine was smooth and rich and reminded her of France.

‘Did you eat?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Come on then,’ she ordered, grabbing him a plate. ‘Before everything is gone.’

They went back up to the barbecue line, where Dylan and his friends were asking for more burgers.

‘This is your fifth!’ reminded his father, Hugh, scooping a quarter-pounder on to his paper plate.

The chicken was all gone so Mark had a piece of steak and a burger and some blackened-looking sausages, topping up with potato and a spoon or two of salad. He was wearing jeans and a fitted pale blue shirt, his body long and lean, his skin tanned as he led her back towards the bench.

‘Want one of these sausages?’ he offered.

She dipped a piece of sausage in his ketchup, her hand brushing against his; he caught it.

Every touch of his skin ignited her need for him and, embarrassed, she took a sip of her wine. This was a neighbourhood barbecue for heaven’s sake!

‘Come on and I’ll introduce you to some people,’ she said once he’d finished eating.

He was charming and polite and fielded question after question about renovating the house as she introduced him to Gerry and Helen, Jim and Sheila Flannery, and Oscar and Regina.

‘When are you moving into that old house?’ asked Regina, craning her wizened face upwards, straightforward as usual, her piercing eyes running up and down as she assessed him.

‘I hope to move in very soon,’ he shouted, raising his voice so that the old lady could hear him. ‘Very soon.’

‘A bit of new blood will be good for the place.’ She nodded, patting his hand. Grace glanced at him, relieved that Regina liked him.

Music began to fill the air and a few people got up to dance.

‘Grace, can we dance?’ he asked, ‘Please?’

She loved dancing with him and gave in as he pulled her along by the hand. They joined the group of couples and fathers and mothers and kids on the makeshift dance area. Anna, who was dancing with Rob, raised her eyebrows when she saw them. They danced to the Beatles and Abba, Thin Lizzy and the Boomtown Rats, and as the music slowed, Mark pulled her into his arms as the voice of the man – Van Morrison – drifted over the park. She could feel his heart beating through his shirt, his skin warm against hers as he held her.

‘Grace, can we go? I want to show you something,’ he said softly, taking her by the hand. It was getting late and the neighbours were beginning to disperse, the barbecues growing cold.

They said their goodnights and slipped away on their own, Mark leading her out of the park and across the street to number 29.

A flickering trail of tea-light candles lit up the path and steps that led up to the front door.

‘It’s finally finished,’ he whispered, as he pulled the key from his pocket. Grace hesitated on the step for a minute, nervous, not sure she wanted to see the massive changes that he had wrought on the O’Connors’ old house. But then Mark put his arms around her and ushered her inside, turning on the light and closing the front door.

‘Oh, Mark!’ She gasped, taking in the utter transformation all around her. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

She walked with him through the hall and drawing room and dining room. It was exactly the way she had imagined; it was almost word for word the way she had described it to Mark months ago. She looked around the old hallway with its classic banisters and balustrade restored, the original oak floorboards polished and sealed and the walls and traditional dado rail painted in Farrow and Ball’s muted buttermilk, an original Waterford glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He took her hand in his as they walked from room to room.

The living room bore little trace of the O’Connors except for the polished white marble fireplace. The walls were painted a rich gold, an expensive hand-woven carpet graced the central square over the perfect revealed floorboards. A large cream-and-gold-patterned sofa stood in front of the fireplace and an antique server in the bay window.

The dining room echoed the same colours but a polished mahogany table and chairs and a simple sideboard gave the room a warm feel. The back of the house contained the massive kitchen with its bright glass and wood extension leading out to the back garden. The units were hand-painted in ivory white and it was the most perfect kitchen she had ever seen, a designer’s dream! There was a huge island, expensive German appliances and, sitting prettily in the middle, a huge family table that reminded her of the one they had at home.

Upstairs he showed her the room where Josh would sleep when he visited, and the fancy bathroom with the double shower and mini Jacuzzi, and the uncluttered guest room, and the room for a small child with its line of red kites and blue clouds dancing around the edge of the walls. She could hardly breathe as he led her to the main bedroom.

‘Our room,’ he said. White roses and candles everywhere! It held a massive bed that was like a floating island in the room, the mushroom and cream and white colour scheme making it restful and warm as Grace caught their reflections in the mirrored glass of the dressing area with its his-and-her rails and luxurious en-suite.

‘Mark, it’s perfect! Absolutely perfect! Everything is just right,’ she said, overawed by how much effort and energy and love he had put into this beautiful old house.

Taking her hand again, he led her back downstairs and out into the newly landscaped garden, to show her the modern lighting and more candles in white glass holders hanging from the branches and nestling between the planted beds of shrubs and lavender and herbs. Grace was glad to see the old apple trees still standing near the back wall. Detta’s bird house was freshly painted and hanging from a branch.

There, standing in the moonlight, Mark had taken her hand and told her how much he loved her and never wanted to lose her.

‘Grace, marry me, please?’ he’d asked, his eyes filled with emotion. ‘Live in this house with me, be my wife!’

She touched his face and kissed him and told him yes.

The ring he gave her was white gold with a single perfect diamond and Mark slipped it on to her finger as easily as if it had always meant to be there.

Maggie Ryan gave thanks for the perfect clear September day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky for Orla and Liam’s wedding. All their prayers and novenas had been answered.

A quick call to her sister Kitty had confirmed the utter bedlam in the Hennessys’ household as Harry bellowed in the background looking for his gold cufflinks and bow-tie. Here all was calm as she slipped on the lovely terracotta silk dress she’d bought, until Evie ran in to show off her pale pink layered dress, her dark hair laced with baby roses, and Sarah chased in after her trying to fasten the clips to hold them steady.

‘Evie, you have to be good today, no running in the church or Aunt Kitty and Orla will be mad at you.’ She raised her eyebrows at Maggie. ‘Honestly, Mum, she’s so over-excited!’

Sarah had invested in a funky Karen Millen dress which made her look absolutely stunning and she twirled around the bedroom showing it off.

‘Mum, we’d better hurry as Angus doesn’t want to get stuck in the heavy traffic and have us all late.’ Sarah and Angus were giving her a lift to the church.

The crowds had begun to arrive at the little Blue Church in Kilternan and Maggie hugged her nephews and their families. Kitty was glowing, her hair immaculately blow-dried, wearing the lovely jade ensemble with a simple swirl of a cream silk headpiece in her hair – the perfect mother-of-the-bride outfit.

‘Kitty, you look absolutely wonderful,’ Maggie complimented her, passing her sister a tissue as the tears had already started.

The church pews began to fill up and Maggie said hello to cousins and relations as Myles Sweeney, looking rather dashing in his dress suit, met her near the church door. She knew that he was nervous meeting all her family and relations today but Kitty had insisted that the wedding was the perfect way to break the ice and introduce him to everyone.

Grace and Mark came in and joined them. They were a handsome couple totally devoted to each other, Grace, excited eyes shining, clasping his hand in hers. Maggie still couldn’t believe that they were engaged with only eight months to their own wedding which was to be held in Donnybrook Church and then in the private club which Mark belonged to on St Stephen’s Green.

A Ryan family wedding! Soon Maggie would be the one searching the shops for the perfect outfit for Grace’s big day. She liked Mark, had so from the beginning, and as she had suspected he was a perfect match for Grace. He had swept her daughter off her feet and made her so happy. She’d always known Grace was the marrying type. Across from them Liam and his brothers were nervously joking on the other side of the church, his parents nodding ‘hello’ in her direction.

Sarah was in her element organizing Evie and the other little girl Amy, trying to ensure they didn’t spill all their rose petals from the dainty baskets before the bride arrived. Angus proudly floated around with his fancy digital camera, taking photos of them.

The music was just starting as Anna and Rob pushed in beside them too. Another wedding, she smiled. Not till after their child was born. Anna’s pregnancy had been such a surprise and she was so excited, planning for the baby with Rob O’Neill who was himself delighted with the news of her pregnancy and his impending fatherhood. A simple ceremony in Roundstone with close family and friends to witness their marriage was what they both wanted.

They all stood up as the singer began. Evie and Amy and the two bridesmaids, Sheena and Melanie, who’d been in school with Orla, led the procession, all dressed in their floaty pink frocks. Maggie tried to keep a straight face as Evie tossed the rose petals along the red carpet. Harry looked very handsome in his suit and was trying to contain his emotion as he escorted Orla up the aisle.

Her niece looked absolutely lovely in a classic off-the-shoulder fitted cream dress, her light brown hair framing her face with a dainty tiara of pearls, and carrying a circular bouquet of cream roses. She was a beautiful bride and when Harry passed her over to Liam, it was clear that the young man was totally smitten with the apparition before him.

The ceremony was beautiful. Kitty brought up the gifts to the altar with Liam’s mother and Conor, Gavin and Sheena and a few of the friends did the readings and prayers. As the marriage ceremony ended and the priest gave the final blessing, Orla and Liam began to walk down the aisle and everyone cheered for the happy couple.

The hotel in Kildare had rolled out the red carpet for Liam, Orla and their guests and Maggie really enjoyed the family celebration. The meal was perfect; Myles enjoyed the roast beef and all the trimmings. Harry was finally able to relax when he had got through his famous father-of-the-bride speech and joined them all for a few drinks in the bar before the dancing started. Kitty was over the moon that there had been no disasters and that everything had gone so smoothly. She hugged Grace, admiring her ring and telling Mark McGuinness that he was lucky to have found himself such a good wife. Maggie blinked away a tear, thinking of having the two of them so close by, another family growing up in a big house overlooking Pleasant Square. Anna and Rob were a perfect match too, and she had never seen her middle daughter happier in her life. Pregnancy suited her and she was glowing, swimming every day in Roundstone and walking miles along the beach with the dog. She watched as Angus cradled Sarah in his arms on the dance floor, his thin face animated as they talked and laughed and planned for the future . . . perhaps the happiest of them all.

Myles coughed to gain her attention and asked her to dance. They made their way on to the crowded dance floor where he took her hand in his, leading her in time to the music. He was a good man and since they’d met there had been dinners and concerts and a wonderful dinner party at Fran’s and a Sunday lunch at his son’s house when she had met his crew. Hesitant, Myles had shown her the brochure for a wonderful tour of ‘The Gardens of France’ next spring, taking in the gardens at Versailles, Monet’s garden in Giverny, a sculpture garden, the lavender fields of Provence and staying in a host of magnificent French chateaux. Leo had hated gardens and gardening, but Myles loved them. It sounded wonderful, something they would both enjoy, and throwing all caution to the winds Maggie had signed up with Myles to go on the seven-day trip. Life and the passage of time had taught her at least one thing: there are far too many lonely people in the world, and when a man who is loving, kind and good comes along and takes your hand perhaps the only thing to do is follow!

‘Matchmaking’ has always been a great Irish tradition from the ‘bachelor festivals’ in Lisdoonvara to the late great John B. Keane’s observations on ‘Matchmaking’.

But matchmaking is no longer just the preserve of love hungry farmers and parish spinsters but the love hungry twenty and thirty year olds of the cities – Dublin, Cork, Galway – looking for the perfect partner to settle down with!

Watching my own three daughters and their friends, the girls of today, who have it all, careers, money, travel and property and yet so often let romance pass them, the idea for ‘The Matchmaker’ came!

As girls wait for a ‘Mr Darcy’ to come along and sweep them off their feet, they often forget the lovely men around them! What is a good mother supposed to do?

Matchmake!!!

This is a book about love and romance definitely but is also about mothers and daughters, loneliness and friendships and the search to find the person that makes us happy.

Marita Conlon-McKenna is one of Ireland’s favourite authors and a regular number one bestseller. She is the winner of the prestigious International Reading Association award and is a regular contributor to Radio and TV. She lives in Blackrock, Dublin with her husband and family.