‘We’ve had worse.’ She smiled at him. ‘Don’t worry.’
He turned to Sandra, who was sitting on the deckchair, Isabelle and Killian on either side of her.
‘We’re looking after our guest,’ said Isabelle. ‘Would you like a drink of water?’
Sandra nodded, still a little shaken, and Killian ran off to bring her one back.
Patrick kneeled down beside her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Her voice was almost breaking. ‘I am so sorry. I’ve been so stupid.’
The rest of the wedding guests had resumed their talking, the diversion over. Patrick’s hands were trembling. He had a choice, either face what he had been running away from or keep running – and yet he knew that, if he chose the latter, he’d have to keep running forever.
33
ROSIE
Isabelle and Killian were collected by a still furious-looking Nessa, who muttered something about her head going to explode and that her marriage was being held together by a very thin thread indeed. ‘I won’t be able to go on that yoga retreat if he doesn’t shape the feck up,’ she said, darkly, as the twins ran on ahead. ‘I might have to resort to something very drastic indeed.’
‘Did you talk to him?’ asked Rosie.
‘He’s too nauseous to have a proper conversation. I made him a cup of coffee and I left him sipping it, feeling sorry for himself,’ went on Nessa. ‘He says he is going to try to talk to his dad and ask to be given more responsibility. And if that doesn’t happen, then he said he will look for a new job.’ She sighed. ‘The problem is, he’s an all-or-nothing kind of person. No work, so he fills it with socialising. He just needs to switch it all around. But I tell you, if he doesn’t, then I won’t be sticking around. He can go and socialise on his own. I think the problem is, growing up, life was all about socialising. That’s what the golf club was, round of golf and drinks back at the bar. The whole family lived like that. No one quite knows what real work looks like. But he’s got ideas for the golf club, ways to make it more family-friendly, to bring in pitch and putt and all that, but he’s feeling a little disempowered.’ Nessa was emotional as she spoke. ‘Do you ever get that feeling like all your emotion is tightly packed away and, any moment, you’re just going explode?’ she said. ‘No, you wouldn’t, being so controlled and all that. If he doesn’t stop this immature and embarrassing behaviour, then it will be…’ She made a slashing motion across her neck.
Rosie knew exactly how she felt, all that energy, the adrenaline, the excitement was barely contained within her, but Nessa had no idea about Rosie’s inner life. But why would she? The sad thing was, nothing was actually happening. She was excited over nothing. She thought of Patrick and how he’d looked after that interaction with his father, his trembling hand, his slightly flushed appearance. It all made sense, now. Brian Power was the kind of man who worried more about what strangers thought of him than what his closest family members thought. Rosie thought of her sweet dad and her lovely mum and knew how lucky she had been.
‘How are you bearing up?’ asked Nessa. ‘Look, if you need a hand with anything, let me know. I can help out. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Thanks, Ness.’
Nessa shrugged. ‘All for a good cause. My sister not having a nervous breakdown. And anyway, I love Cliff Top as much as you. Now, just call me if you need me, okay? But let me bring the twins home and try to get them into their pyjamas and wind them down. Who knows, they might actually sleep tonight.’ She then hugged Rosie. ‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ she said. ‘I’d like to have a wedding exactly like this one. Maybe you’ll organise my second one!’ She laughed at Rosie’s shocked face. ‘I’m joking!’ she said, turning to go. ‘Or am I?’ And she was still laughing as she walked away.
* * *
‘Well, that was a tremendous success,’ said Bertie, as he and Teddy carried all the garden furniture back into the garage. ‘Wasn’t it, Teddy?’
Teddy nodded. ‘I would definitely think so.’ He looked at Rosie. ‘I’ve spoken to François and he says he’s up to his elbows in seafood. I left him boiling the lobster and crab and he had enlisted some poor unsuspecting apprentice with shucking the oysters. I tried his soda bread. Remarkably good. Almost as good as your mother’s.’ He paused. ‘Everything all right what that one guest?’ He meant Patrick’s father.
‘Just a little too much to drink,’ she said.
‘Weddings are by their nature slightly uncontrollable affairs,’ said Bertie. ‘From my time at the Shelbourne, oh, we had the most wonderful events, but there was always someone who overdid the old vino. But that’s hospitality, you have to be on your toes.’
‘What about Laurence?’ asked Rosie. ‘Do you think I should say something?’
‘I’ve chatted to our bride and groom,’ said Grace. ‘And they are enjoying him, apparently. He’s become part of the party… they say there’s no harm in him, and he’s a bit of fun.’
‘I don’t think Nessa feels like that,’ said Rosie. She looked over at Teddy, who had just finished placing the last box on the shelf. He smiled at her. Teddy wasn’t one of life’s worriers, he always said that, when anything went awry, it was ‘all part of the great university of life’. The exception was the death of his wife, but even then he seemed to instinctively know how to help himself heal and gather himself, by retreating into the garden, and spending time with his two daughters.
‘I’m heading down to check on the marquee,’ said Grace. ‘Apparently the floor is laid and they’ve started on the chairs now. Coming?’
‘I just have a few tasks in the garden,’ said Teddy.
‘I’ll check on the guests in the lounge,’ said Bertie. ‘Make sure everyone has everything they need.’ He gave Rosie a glance and, when she caught his eye, he nodded, his eyebrows slightly raised. ‘As long as you, Rosie, have everything you need?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled at him. ‘It’s going really well.’
‘As long as you are happy with everything,’ he said again.
‘It’s not about my happiness,’ she began, trying to laugh. ‘It’s about the bride and groom’s.’
