The Rose Garden (28 page)

Libby looked absolutely beautiful in a fitted cream lace dress, her dark hair partly up in an antique jewelled tiara. Her eyes sparkled with happiness as she and Brian made a point of talking to everyone. Trish and Larry were pleased as punch and went around introducing everyone and catching up with all the relations and the new in-laws.

‘It’s all going so well!’ Kim grinned, coming in to get some more champagne. ‘You can tell they are all really enjoying themselves.’

An hour later everyone had moved to the candlelit orangery. The combination of flowers, glass and lights with Molly’s statues, ornaments and plants had certainly created the necessary surprise
element. Father Darragh said the grace before the meal, then the dinner service began.

Once the dessert plates were served, Gina allowed herself a cup of coffee as the speeches began. She remembered her own wedding in the small hotel near where she and Paul had grown up and lived all their lives. They’d had about seventy-five people to the reception in the hotel’s bar and dining room. It was all gold and red, with big roses on the table and velvet curtains, and they’d had chicken as they couldn’t afford the beef. Paul’s brother Billy and his band had played afterwards. It had been a great night, up dancing with all their family and friends. They’d gone to Majorca on their honeymoon for two weeks and when they came home had moved into their little house on Fairdale Crescent, near both sets of families. Every wedding was special and theirs had been such a great family day.

An hour later some of the tables and chairs had been cleared away, the music had started and everyone was up and dancing. She began loading and reloading the dishwasher with glasses and plates, and stacking things into the back of her car. At midnight there would be cocktail sausages and mini quiches for those that were hungry.

‘Gina, everyone is raving about the food!’ Molly said, coming into the kitchen. ‘It’s all working so well, and Trish and Larry are over the moon.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’

‘You should be very proud of yourself!’ Molly continued. ‘This has worked better than any castle or hotel, and Libby’s having a wedding to remember!’

It was nearly 2 a.m. before Gina finally finished. Brendan and Inga and Kim were still serving drinks and collecting glasses, but things were beginning to wind down. In an hour maybe she would slip away. Her feet were killing her, but otherwise she felt ecstatic about how the day had gone. She hadn’t lost it, the ability to cater a big event and run it well!

MOLLY HAD GONE OFF TO ITALY FOR A WEEK WITH HER FRIENDS,
leaving Kim to mind Daisy. Gina called over the next afternoon to collect the remainder of her equipment, which had been left in the utility room.

‘The wedding was brilliant, Gina. Everyone was saying how well you organized it.’

‘Thanks for all your help,’ she smiled. ‘You and Molly made having it here easy.’

‘Weddings are always wonderful,’ replied Kim, ‘no matter if they are big or small, because it’s all about two people being in love and committing to each other for life.’

She wondered if she would ever find someone to love and commit to. She was seeing Luke, and even though it was early days their relationship felt right. They both just wanted to be together all the time.

‘Also, when you cater a wedding,’ Gina confided, ‘people don’t want to scrimp and scrape on the big day. So for once their hearts overrule their heads and they spend, whether it’s a family dinner for thirty people or a big bash for two hundred.’

‘Are you doing lots of weddings?’

‘Unfortunately things are pretty quiet since the café shut down,’ Gina admitted. ‘I used to get a lot of my work through our customers, but now that’s gone I desperately need to find a way to attract more business.’

‘Maybe if you had a website people could go on to that and find out about what you do,’ Kim suggested.

‘Do you think that would work?’

‘Yes, definitely. Brides spend half their time on the internet searching out venues and flowers and dresses and all kinds of things. The girls in my office used to spend hours just looking at locations and churches and invitations and menu packages!’

Before she knew it, Kim was discussing helping to create a website to promote Gina’s business.

‘I’d keep the site very simple,’ she advised, ‘with menus and photos, and information about you and what kind of events you do and how to contact you. I’m working on a website for Mossbawn, but I’ve done one for my friend Evie. You should check it out. She’s an artist. Her stuff is great, but the galleries take so much commission if you manage to sell a painting that it’s crazy! And even getting to show at a gallery is really hard. The website is getting lots of hits and already she’s sold a few more paintings and sketches and has got a few commissions. One guy in California has even bought a painting and wants another for his sister. She’s having a big exhibition in a few weeks, so the website will help promote that too.’

‘I’d love to have a website, but I’m afraid I’m not very techie,’ Gina admitted. ‘I’m far better on the cooker than the computer.’

‘That’s fine, because I could set everything up and then you can just update it. It’s very simple, or otherwise if you need me to I can do it. Do you know the lovely vintage fashion shop in Kilkenny?’

‘Yes, some of their stuff is gorgeous. I got a lovely lace blouse there last year.’

‘I sold them some of my clothes and handbags. Sylvia, the girl who owns it, wanted to put some of their stock up online to reach a much bigger customer base, so I’ve just done a website for them.’

‘By the sounds of it, a website is something I should think about … Let me talk to Paul and see what he thinks,’ agreed Gina, arranging to meet up later on in the week to have a chat about it.

Kim couldn’t believe it – she was finding herself work where she hadn’t expected to. She was also able to take some of the photographs needed for a site and knew that if there were any big techie issues, Piotr was on hand to help her sort them out.

Having Mossbawn to herself for the few days was weird, but in a nice way. She’d invited Luke over for dinner. He was always cooking them meals in his house, so it was definitely her turn.

She lit the fire in the drawing room and they would eat in the kitchen. There were candles everywhere and it looked really romantic. They saw each other all the time and the more time they spent together, the more she began to care about him. He was old-fashioned and good and kind, and had that rare gift of being happy and content. Walking down the street in the village, the kids from school and their parents would say hello to him; everyone liked Mr Ryan. The truth was, she really liked him too. Their relationship was so different from the one she had had with Gareth; she was far more relaxed and she had fun hanging out with him.

Her balsamic chicken was in the oven, and she was making a prawn pil pil for starters, as guys loved that. Earlier she had made a chocolate cake for dessert. Wine and beer were chilling in the fridge, and she ran upstairs and changed out of her usual jeans and jumper into a black dress that she hadn’t worn for ages. Her hair was longer and she had lost some weight; all that garden work and dog-walking sure beat sitting at an office desk all day! As she tipped her eyelashes with mascara, she realized that she had changed so much from what she was – obsessed with make-up and clothes and looking good and going to the right places … It all seemed so long ago.

Daisy began to bark and she tore down the stairs to let Luke in. He pulled her into his arms and as she kissed him she knew tonight would be perfect, because she was with him.

They had a drink first, curled up on the couch in the living room.

‘Let me help you,’ he offered in the kitchen when the food was ready.

‘You open the wine!’ she giggled as she carried the piping-hot prawns to the table.

‘Wow!’

She burst out laughing and as they ate the hot spicy shellfish they chatted easily. Luke always had so much to talk about.

She told him about Gina.

‘That would be great for her and for you!’ he said.

‘Well, hopefully it works out,’ she replied cautiously. ‘But I still need to get a job.’

‘Kim, I know it must be so different for you living here compared to working in the city, but you’ll get used to it – believe me, you will!’

‘I know. But Luke, I need to earn. I’m staying here with Molly at the moment, which is great, but I need to have a proper income.’

‘Maybe the website business will grow and you’ll find something else as well,’ he said encouragingly.

‘I hope so.’

‘I’d take my class of seven-year-olds in school and the farm any day over a bloody office in London!’ He took her hand, curving her fingers into his. ‘Kim, I want you to stay here. I guess I worry that if you go back to life in Dublin I’ll end up losing you.’

‘You won’t,’ she said slowly. ‘I promise you won’t.’

After they’d eaten they went back and snuggled up in front of the fire, taking turns telling each other about when they were kids.

‘I wanted to be a jockey.’

‘A jockey?’ She laughed.

‘I know – I’m far too tall! By the time I was twelve I was towering over most jockeys, so my dreams were dashed.’

‘I wanted to be a ballerina. Mum used to bring my sister Liz and me to ballet classes every week. I was obsessed with it. But then, like you, I began to grow and realized that I was never going to dance in
Swan Lake
on some big stage … so I changed to Irish dancing with loads of the girls in my class instead, which was a lot more fun.’

‘Funny how dreams change,’ he said, suddenly serious.

Kim looked at him, his grey-green eyes and long nose with the bump in it from the bang of a football. And the little scar on his chin where a horse had kicked him and his mass of thick, wavy dark hair; and she knew that he was part of her dreams. She thought about him all the time … she couldn’t help herself.

Later, lying in his arms in bed, she watched him breathe, his eyes closed, sleeping. They might only have known each other a short while, but already Kim knew that she loved Luke and wanted to be a part of his life for ever.

TO MOLLY IT FELT STRANGE GOING AWAY ON A WEEK’S HOLIDAY
without David. But Roz and her friends wouldn’t countenance her dropping out of the few days in Italy.

‘It will do you good,’ Anna assured her. When Anna had got divorced six years ago it had been a massive adjustment for her friend to make to being alone after years of marriage, but she had got used to it.

‘Dad wouldn’t want you to just sit moping around the place!’ encouraged Grace and Emma. Molly certainly wouldn’t consider herself the sitting-around-moping type, but she understood what her two daughters meant.

They were flying in to Venice, staying there for two nights, then going on to Verona and staying four nights at Lake Garda. She and David had been to Venice years before on a day trip when the children were small, but she was looking forward to having the time to explore it properly. She was sharing a room with Roz, which would be fun.

Venice was beautifully warm and sunny, and on the first day Molly and the girls joined a tour with a guide to show them around, taking in all the sights. Every step you took, you were conscious of the city’s unique history and of all those that had walked its narrow cobbled streets and bridges for centuries before.

They were staying in a small boutique hotel only a few minutes from St Mark’s Square. Dinner at night was great fun, the five of
them all choosing different items on the menu so they could taste them all, washed down with lots of lovely Chianti. Anna had turned fifty only two days before the holiday, so they got the waiters to bring her a birthday cake and wish her
Tanti Auguri.
David had treated her to a long romantic weekend in a beautiful hotel in Kerry for her fiftieth – time with her husband she would never forget.

She’d known the girls for years and though they all tried to persuade her to think about moving back to Dublin and she knew that they meant well, when she explained her plans for the cottage they were happy for her. She couldn’t imagine ever leaving a lovely place like Kilfinn and moving back to the city.

Molly loved to explore the little streets between the canals, discovering some beautiful old houses full of history, owned by generations of the same family, the fabric of each building almost a work of art. St Mark’s was busy and noisy, full of tourists with their guides, but in the dark silence of a small church on a narrow side-street she asked for the strength to learn to carry on without David. So many had mourned their dead, marking the passing of loved ones with tombs and statues and paintings, century after century, ensuring their dead would never be forgotten.

They travelled on to Verona, exploring the town where Shakespeare’s Juliet had lived, and went to a wonderful outdoor performance of
Carmen
in the ancient open-air amphitheatre. Sitting under the stars listening to such music was an incredible and emotional experience.

The next day they journeyed up to Lake Garda, where they were staying in the old town of Riva, built between the mountains and the lake. Their hotel, a former private villa, was set in lush gardens full of such colour and vigour that Molly couldn’t resist talking to the gardener and finding out about their plants and what helped make them flourish. Silvio told her about two spectacular gardens nearby.

While the others went shopping and sightseeing, she and Maeve went to Villa Ragusa, with its tiered gardens and statues of some of its former owners, and a kitchen garden full of herbs, peppers, fruit and tomatoes – all the ingredients for a perfect Italian meal. There was a rose-covered loggia and from the top of the garden a spectacular view of the lake.

‘This house has stayed in the one family for centuries,’ the pretty young guide explained. ‘In good times and of course in bad, the house and its family somehow survived. One of Mussolini’s generals wanted it for himself, but the family somehow tricked him into believing that it was unlucky and brought misfortune to those who owned it. He was a very superstitious man so he went and got a villa further down the lake, near Limone.’