‘I’d better get going.’ She tied her scarf around her neck and pointed towards the door.
‘Yes, of course. Go home, darling. It’s Friday evening. Kitchen’s closed and we have all had quite a night. You don’t want to stand and listen to the ramblings of an old woman.’
‘You’re not old, Gianna.’
‘Well, I feel it.’
‘If you’re sure there’s nothing else you want me to do?’ She bit her lip, knowing how very lucky she was to work here and still lit within at the glorious night that had passed, topped off by an extraordinary act of generosity, which had been the icing on the cake.
‘I’m sure.’ Gianna’s eyes crinkled in a fleeting smile. It seemed that MrKelleway’s speech had really got to her, made her think. And Daisy got it, feeling more than a little emotional herself. She knew tonight she would ask the universe to please, please not let anyone chop down one of her beloved trees and also not to let Gianna and Carlo close up the restaurant and go home to Italy. Of course, she wanted them to be happy, but for her, it would be the very worst thing.
‘How about I grab us a nice Brunello red,’ Carlo boomed, ‘and we go home, kick off our shoes, sit in the garden and open it? Just the two of us. How about that, Gianna? I will rub your feet and put a blanket over your shoulders.’
Gianna nodded. ‘Let’s do that.’
Having unshackled her bike, Daisy headed for home, happy and with a satisfied ache to her limbs that she welcomed after a hard evening’s work. Sparks of joy fizzed in her veins every time she pictured the big fat tip given to her by MrMoneybags – ‘call me Lawrence’ – nestling in her pocket.
Cycling so quickly that her turns at roundabouts and junctions were a little risky, she sped along, feeling alive! The wind hit her in the face and the onset of the evening chill made her shiver with something close to delight. She couldn’t wait to burst through the door and tell her family about her big, big tip.
With her bike safely stashed in the porch for the night, she opened the front door and walked into the quiet house.
There was no one to tell. No one was waiting for her.
Her mum was no doubt sleeping. Her dad too, and Jake was of course ensconced behind his bedroom door. Her immediate feeling was one of sadness. The house was too quiet; loneliness prodded her in the ribs and whispered in her ear. She leaned on the wall and listened very carefully, able to make out the faint sound of music and she was sure she heard laughter. Standing in the silent gloom,she wondered again what it might feel like to live in the house next door where laughter and love was their glue and they had so much money they could fling a tip like that at their scrawny waitress. Their scrawny waitress with overly large knees.
Standing on the first stair, the letter from the council caught her eye, now propped up on the hallstand opposite – a relic from her gran. She could see that it had been opened and her heart beat quickly. It felt a little as if things were unravelling. First, one of her beloved oaks could be lost and now Gianna and Carlo too ... She closed her eyes and felt her way up the stairs, thinking that if she could block out the thoughts, they might not trouble her.
CHAPTER FIVE
JULIEKELLEWAY
It was a relief for Julie to be outside in the mild June night air. The menopause, sitting like a growling shadow in the background, had begun to play havoc with her internal thermometer. She closed her eyes, letting the subtle breeze lift her hair and cool her brow. Pinching her loose floral blouse at the front, she wafted it back and forth to send shivers of cold air over her body. It had been quite a night. But no less than she had expected: a little boisterous, a little loud, a little too much consumed by them all. Standard, really, for any Kelleway celebration, where it seemed that if it wasn’t done to excess it could hardly be considered a celebration.
‘Come on, you.’ She spoke softly to Cassian as she gathered her Mulberry handbag to her chest, still after seven years of ownership loving the feel of it against her skin. Its delicate ivory tone perfect for all seasons and the brass logo plate still gave her a shudder of delight when she ran her thumb over it. It had been a present for her birthday – a total surprise – and she smiled now to think of that glorious day when Lawrence had presented her with the fancy parcel, tied with a wide ribbon.
‘What is it?’ She’d held her breath, excited.
‘Something beautiful for my beautiful wife ...’ His words only cementing the perfect point in their wonderful life.
A quick shake of her head shifted the memory, which right now was almost too painful to consider.
It’s okay, Jules, keep it together, keep smiling, keep walking, it’s all going to be okay ...She did this, repeated small reminders, keeping her interior monologue as supportive and positive as possible. It helped.
She placed her hand on her son’s shoulder, knowing how he hated the spectacle of walking along with his family en masse. And she understood, a little. Like any bauble-decked herd, as they left the restaurant, they took up a lot of space and made more noise than was comfortable: a fanfare, an exhibition. She was aware of the stares of passers-by and the glimpses from drivers making their way up the high street as they clogged the pavement. It certainly wasn’t her way, the showiness of it.
Jake’s younger sister – what was her name? Darcy? – the little waitress seemed nice enough, but looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The girl’s expression had kind of summed up how Julie had felt in those early days when newly hitched and still figuring out how to be a Kelleway. It had been an exhausting time, trying to make Winnie like her, wanting Bernie to befriend her but not so much that it might irritate Winnie. Wanting to look at ease and not entirely thrown by the opulence of their get-togethers, whilst almost paralysed with anxiety about doing or saying the wrong thing.
It was another world! The sheer abundance of ... everything, and the way the family interacted; the constant planning for the next event, the next holiday, the next anniversary, the swapping of dates, the high jinks, the brunches, the lunches, the restaurant dates, the big, big cakes for each and every celebration for everything from birthdays to driving tests. The giving of gifts, the receiving of gifts,the wrapping of gifts, the gift lists shared on WhatsApp, and the expectancy and pressure to keep up and under no circumstances could they ever, ever be late. There was not a reason or excuse in the land that could justify tardiness. Even if Winnie smiled and batted away a late arrival as if it were of no consequence, her eyes always told a very different tale. Julie had quickly learned that there was no event considered too small to celebrate with the opening of a bottle of fizz, a slack handful of crisps in a crystal bowl and the gathering in the family home that held them all fast like a magnet.
It was all so very different from her own quiet upbringing on the other side of town. There had been a lot to take in. But she was more than used to it now, a little less fearful of it – the overly loud laughter, the ribbing, the same jokes told in any number of variants, yes, she got it: Georgie was a little podgy, Lawrence was good-looking, Domino quiet, Cassian a good boy ... Sometimes, watching everyone play their part, she wanted to scream! It wasn’t always easy, toeing the line, remembering who she was talking to and what inside knowledge she had. Cleo, for example, was her friend and Julie knew that in Winnie and Bernie’s view, she had ‘settled’ when she’d married Georgie.
And then there was her husband, Lawrence: the golden boy, who wrapped his barbed comments in jest and threw them at anyone close enough for them to land. She saw through this, of course, his affability, his easy-going nature, witness as she was to his bouts of anger and introspection, his manic planning, his wild and elaborate schemes that could become his sole occupation until another took its place. Yes, she saw through him, all right. Not that it would ever be the case for Winnie or Bernie, who literally thought the sun shined out of his bum hole.
She ran her hand over Cassian’s back, understanding that loving that much made it easy to be blind. She hoped, however, that she was more realistic when it came to lovinghercomplex son.Cassian seemed, at the moment, to keep more in than he let out. She wished he’d open up to her more, but also wanted to respect his privacy and his boundaries. The truth was that after leaving Melbourne, it felt a little like the trust they’d shared had been eroded. Not that she blamed him; it wasn’t as if life was easy for any of them. Her own mother reminded her that her brother had been the same, and that eighteen was an awkward age – technically an adult, but really still no more than a child, filled with teenage angst, stumbling and flailing in the unfamiliar wilderness between boy and man. She hoped he knew that when he stumbled and if he fell, she would catch him. Always.
‘See you back at ours!’ Winnie shouted to no one in particular as she climbed into Georgie’s saloon.
Julie felt her gut bunch at the volume of her mother-in-law’s holler. Maybe she wasn’t as used to it as she’d thought, even after nearly two decades tethered to this family.
