Lucinda was also bustling around, as though she owned the hotel. She didn’t normally make an appearance, but, like Laurence, seemed to think that she too was included in the wedding party.
‘Oh, Rosie!’ Lucinda was beckoning her over from her seat beside a couple. ‘Come and meet Sandra, my old pal from Doobs! This is Rosie, my eldest niece, and let me introduce you to my old friend, Sandra. And this is her partner, Brian. A farmer, apparently.’ She pulled a face at Rosie as though she was surprised that he was actually clean and wasn’t wearing wellingtons.
The man stood and grabbed Rosie’s hand. ‘Brian Power. Grand set-up you have here.’
‘Thank you.’ So this was Patrick’s father. She’d always wondered about him.
Rosie tried to remember everything Patrick had ever told her about his father. They hadn’t been close, she knew that. A dairy farmer. But cold, distant. He was smiling at her, a handsome man, shorter than his two boys, but he had an energy and charisma, as he made direct eye contact with her. She turned to the woman and shook her hand. ‘Well, you’re both very welcome.’
‘I was saying to Sandra,’ said Brian, ‘about Seán and Evelyn…’
‘Niamh,’ corrected Sandra.
‘I can’t ever remember her name,’ said Brian, not looking at Sandra but straight at Rosie. ‘Anyway, they chose a little slice of paradise to be getting married here. Obviously, being from Cork, we don’t see anything outside of the “Real Republic”…’ – he laughed, winking at Lucinda – ‘…as being better. But if we have to be in Dublin, then this isn’t a bad place at all, at all, at all.’ He was clutching her hand in both of his: warm, eye contact, a charming smile. And yet… he was trying too hard. It wasn’t genuine. He wanted to charm, desperately.
Lucinda smiled at him. ‘Yes, it was my sister’s hotel. She loved it so much. And Rosie and her sister Vanessa are the reason why I left Dubai because their dear mother, my dearest sister Sarah, so tragically passed away. I came to be a mother in spirit to these nearly orphaned girls. I know there were such scurrilous rumours – which had absolutely no basis whatsoever in reality – flying around… something about me and Legs O’Toole – so-called because he only had one leg. Anyway, so there was this rumour I had broken up his marriage to dear old Primrose – do you remember any of this, Sandra?’
Sandra had a glazed look on her face, as if she wasn’t sure where she was or even who she was talking to. Rosie was listening to Lucinda with a rising sensation of fury. Lucinda was so full of nonsense. She hadn’t come back to be a ‘mother in spirit’, in fact, Rosie believed the Legs O’Toole story. Lucinda was probably run out of town by Primrose.
‘Anyway, the truth was, I came back to Ireland to take over the guardianship of my nieces, after the passing of my dear sister, Sarah. And at first we were all grief-stricken, were we not, Rosie? But we pulled through. Somehow the hotel kept going. Teddy, my dear but…’ – she lowered her voice – ‘rather hapless brother-in law, is not a natural hotelier. But Sarah had employed the services of a competent housekeeper called Maureen, who has, it has to be said, a sharp tongue on her. But between her and Teddy, they kept the hotel in some kind of order before Rosie completed her degree in hotelology.’
‘Dad isn’t hapless,’ said Rosie firmly, trying to contain her fury. ‘Not remotely.’
‘Oh, hapless is a term of affection,’ went on Lucinda, gaily. ‘It means he’s just not a go-getter. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Sandra? There are alpha males who go round shouting. And Teddy just isn’t like that. Sarah and I went for very different men. I have a soft spot for the alpha males and dear Sarah liked the hapless ones.’
Rosie burned, inwardly, with indignation. Lucinda was infuriating. Rosie felt increasingly irritated by Lucinda’s high-handed approach and insults.
‘Well, if there’s anything you need,’ said Rosie, ‘please don’t hesitate to ask. Your rooms are comfortable?’
‘Like sleeping on a cloud,’ said Brian. ‘Last time I had such a good night’s sleep was just after Cork won the All-Ireland. Third in a row. I tell you now, the whole county slept well that night.’
Sandra looked away as though she’d long tired of this constant jocularity.
‘Ah, there are the boys now,’ said Brian, looking over Rosie’s shoulder to the doorway, where Patrick and Seán and Niamh were walking in together. ‘Boys, boys!’ he called them over.
Patrick and Seán both had the same grim expression on their faces, as though they were trying to smile. Only Niamh looked genuine.
‘Morning, everyone,’ she said. ‘Hopefully no rain today. I’m really looking forward to the garden picnic. And then the rehearsal dinner tonight. And then tomorrow’s our big day…’ She smiled at Seán.
As Rosie passed them, she and Patrick made eye contact.
‘Oh, Rosie…’ Lucinda was following her out. ‘Rosie, dear, you’re looking a little flushed. Do you need to apply some make-up? And why are you in such casual clothes? You look like you’re going to the beach. What would Sarah say?’
If Rosie was flushed before, she felt utterly volcanic suddenly. ‘I think Mum would have liked what I am wearing…’
Lucinda interrupted her. ‘It’s not professional. Now, as someone who worked as a corporate PA…’
Rosie held up her hand, managing to smile, knowing they were in the breakfast room. ‘Thank you for the sartorial advice. But the days of wearing suits are over. It’s business casual, actually.’ In her head, she knew she would never wear anything navy ever again. All her suits were going straight to the charity shop. It was as though she hadn’t been herself in her old work unform, like she’d been playing the role of hotel manager or hiding. ‘But it’s not necessary.’
She managed to smile again, before turning on her flat shoes, and left the room, her mind now full of Lucinda, of something which had niggled away at her for years, and of Patrick’s comment about her aunt loving to meddle. Rosie had brought Patrick to Cliff Top and when she had left him and Lucinda alone, there was a strange or rather strained atmosphere between them, and even though she’d asked Patrick if everything was okay, he had insisted that there was. But it was straight after the visit that he had begun to distance himself. She’d put it down to nerves about travelling and perhaps him worrying about the news of his new investment and also having to say goodbye. Now she wondered if Lucinda had said something to him. She had told Rosie he wasn’t the one for her. Perhaps she’d said something similar to Patrick? But surely, he wouldn’t have listened to Lucinda. But what if he had?
A swim, she thought. She needed to cool down and swim.
28
PATRICK
‘Patrick!’ Kate was standing up at her table. ‘Over here! I have a table.’ She was patting the seat next to her. ‘I need to ask your opinion on something.’
