Iris had spoken plainly, her messaging clear;there is a way to build a life, the three of us. I’m not going anywhere, and I understand that neither are you...
‘It is.’
‘It must feel scary.’ Iris stood. ‘I can’t imagine. But it will all work out. We were saying only earlier that when it comes to things like Christmas, we’ll organise ourselves, do whatever’s best, there’ll be a way for us to make it work. To make everything work.’
Holly stared at the girl and jutted her chin, trying in vain to stop her tears, which fell in a thin stream over her cheeks. ‘Be good to him, won’t you.’
Iris watched as Holly put her rucksack on to her shoulder and continued to look at Aiden’s face, as if unable to tear her eyes away.
‘I promise you I will.’ Iris swallowed and spoke softly, as Holly left the room.
Enya reached out and squeezed Holly Hudson’s arm as she made her way towards the front door, opening it quietly and slipping out into the warmth of the summer’s eve. Aiden almost rushed forward, as if it were a need, and took Iris into his arms.
Enya left them to it, knowing they would have a lot to unpick.
Peering out of her bedroom window, she watched Holly disappear inside her parents’ house, and knew she would never forget the quiet, controlled interaction that had occurred in her home.
There had been a shift, not only for Aiden, Holly and Iris, but for her too, a reckoning of sorts, understanding that it was time for her new chapter. She just had to find the courage to open the book.
Pickle was on the bed and looked up, indifferent, it seemed, to her presence.
Enya lay on top of the duvet and waited for sleep. Her phone buzzed, a text from Angela.
I’ve Had A Think About Our Conversation Earlier. I Revisited The Links You Sent And Would Just Like To Confirm That Both Of Those Dresses Are Absolutely Hideous. You Have No Taste. None At All. What Were You Thinking?
It made her laugh out loud, this no doubt her sassy sister’s way of saying that all was forgiven, and confirming her attendance at the wedding, should it go ahead. It was just what she needed at the end of this most extraordinary day.
Chapter Thirty-One
Enya woke on this beautiful blue-sky day and lay very still, staring at the ceiling, a little unsure of how she should be feeling on this, her son’s wedding day. Here she was, coming to terms with the fact that this was an event she had imagined since he was a child. Wondering who he would marry, where he would marry, would he marry at all? All these things were of course unknown, but one thing she would have said with certainty was that Jonathan would be by her side. Placing her hand on the cold pillow next to her, she felt his absence as keenly today as any since he had died, and yet it was without the melancholy that had dogged her since he had disappeared.
She simply wished he were here, knowing how much he would have loved it, all of it!
Witnessing the maturity with which Aiden, Holly and Iris had navigated the situation in which they found themselves had proved inspirational and helped her to see that no matter how differently things turned out from what you had planned, there was always a way to find the silver lining, to look forward. A way to make it work.
Sick of being held accountable for actions that were nothing to do with her, quizzed or confronted by everyone from her sister to her neighbours, she had taken control of how she was viewed and what she was prepared to tolerate. For too long she had been reactive, overly concerned with the little things, but not any longer.
If Jenny and Phil chose not to be part of her life, then so be it. Wishing for it and crying over it was certainly not going to change the situation; instead she would be civil, but try not to take the rejection personally, looking forward to her next chapter. Maybe she’d take Trish’s advice after all and join a club!
Handsome Car Klutz continued to lurk in her mind, prodding her sleeping desires with all kinds of fanciful thoughts that weren’t wholly unpleasant. Unsure whether it was widowhood, single life or simply her age, since losing Jonathan she had lost a fundamental part of herself. For some years now she had no longer seen herself as a sexual being, and the world, it seemed, had taken her lead. More often than not she felt invisible and, unsurprisingly, the addition of a cotton neckerchief, a fancy tasselled necklace or a good squirt of her favoured perfume didn’t seem to enhance her visibility. But Dominic had seen her, and this meant she was not invisible, not quite.
Today, however, what she needed to do was go and watch her son marry his Iris and do her best to stay out of the chaos that was the Sutherlands’ marriage.
‘You got this!’ she shouted, giving herself the pep talk, as she sat up to face the day. Of one thing she was sure: if the emotional highs and lows were standard when it came to wedding planning, then she was glad Aiden and Iris had crammed it into a month, uncertain if she had the mental reserves to withstand it a minute longer.
The pale-blue ankle-length dress she had chosen, with the help of Angela, hung pressed and ready on the wardrobe door. It was triangular in shape, with a high neck and an abundance ofbuttons. Her sister had pointed out that it made her look like a ward sister, or a matron, circa 1950. She had also added that this was a positive, as the last thing she wanted to do was look even vaguely attractive, what with Dominic being present and all. Maybe Angela had a point.
Enya hadn’t seen Dominic since he had visited her weeks ago and there had been no phone calls, no contact at all. To say she was nervous about facing him was an understatement. Her hope was that enough time had passed to cool the embers of their burning connection, and that the openly stated admission that how they felt about each other neither could nor should be allowed to grow was something they both adhered to. Plus, today was not about them, not at all. It was all about Aiden and Iris, the people she would do her very best to protect, always.
Her parents had arrived yesterday and were staying with Angela and Frank. Having spoken to them both on the phone, she was excited to see them, and hoped they would manage to keep their bickering to a minimum. Aiden had stayed at The Mount, flouting convention; he and Iris had declared they’d rather not spend a night apart and planned on watching the sunrise so as not to miss a single second of their special day. It had made her smile, the cynic in her wondering if they’d feel quite so sentimental when their adrenaline flagged and fatigue hit, which, if she had to guess, might be around dusk. Not that she was anti this at all, hoping for a reasonable end time to the festivities and already picturing the bed she had only just vacated.
Having washed her hair yesterday, it had calmed and looked as passable as her curly mop ever did. Her mascara, blush, and nude lipstick sat on the kitchen table. There was something exciting about new make-up. With a mug of tea placed by her magnifying mirror, she dotted cream on to her face and neck and took a sip ofthat delightful first morning brew, when a gentle tap saw her head turn to the front door.
Holly stood on the doorstep with a pretty arrangement of flowers in her hands. It was instantly recognisable as Jenny’s trademark style of weeping greenery, blousy-headed blooms, delicate petals, wisps of grass, and the scent! It was heavenly.
‘Oh, Holly! They’re beautiful!’ She felt her heart lift at the sight of them, so much more than a simple bunch of flowers. It was a peace offering, it was recognition of the fact that Enya’s son was getting married, it was forgiveness, and it was kind. As per her new, assertive stance and in the vein of self-preservation, Enya dared not let herself believe they were about to fall back into a close friendship, she’d make no mention of their joint business venture and she doubted there’d be any 3 a.m. calls for chocolate, but that was fine. This was a start, and today, it was enough.
‘Mum was going to bring them down, but I said I wanted to do it.’
