Page 40 of Every Christmas Eve
We reminisce and reflect, we laugh and we almost cry, we talk about Little Eve and the joy she brought to so many, we roll our eyes when we remember the summer of Olivia Major.
‘She was so determined to make my life a misery, and so keen to get her hands on you,’ I say, doing my best not to sound bitter, but boy, I was so mad at her. ‘Then she turned up here to the pub on that tricky Christmas Eve evening, uninvited, not long after our big decision to give each other some space. Talk about pushy!’
‘She had spaghetti arms, that’s for sure,’ Ben replies, laughing heartily. ‘I’ll never forget your face, Lou. She gotso drunk and told you to go home so she could have me all to herself.’
We’re on a roll now down memory lane, and it feels good.
‘She was on a real bunny-boiler mission, no doubt about it,’ I tell him, recalling the look on his face when the three of us sat in this very spot by the fire all those years ago.
‘I was secretly terrified of her,’ he says with a shudder. ‘Thank goodness you were graceful enough to take her home in a taxi, even if you had to listen to her attempt to sing “Last Christmas” on repeat all the way to her parents’ house.’
‘Graceful is one word, I suppose,’ I say. ‘I think you and I both needed rescuing from her antics that evening, but I wouldn’t have let her travel home alone when she’d had so much to drink. I walked her to the door and made an excuse to her worried parents that she’d had an allergic reaction to something. They called me the “Ballyheaney House hand”.’ How flattering! Did you ever hear from her since?’
He looks horrified at the very idea.
‘No – well, not in person, but she sent me scathing texts for days saying how you and I deserved each other,’ he says. ‘She claimed she was far too good for me anyhow and how you were – well, we don’t need to go there. Teenage crushes, eh … mad how they come and go.’
A weighted silence hangs in the air between us at the idea that we too were a teenage crush that simply lasted longer than average.
‘Loving someone when you’re university age isn’t exactly a teenage crush, is it?’ I suggest, feeling the words scratch my throat. ‘But maybe that’s what we were.’
He bites his lip and rubs his forehead before replying.
‘I’ve tried for a very long time to understand what we had, Lou,’ he tells me. ‘I don’t for a second believe it was a teenage crush. It was way more than that, and it lasted way longer than that. For me, anyhow.’
‘For me too,’ I whisper, as the anxious feeling in my tummy starts to settle.
We skip past the ending of our story, choosing without saying so to move on to business since time was of the essence. We discuss the party in as much detail as possible, as we have a very short time frame to make the party happen without a glitch, not to mention meeting the guests’ very high expectations. We don’t need to mention the last party in any shape or form, but we both know we don’t want any last-minute setbacks. This one is going to take all eyes on the ball. And this time, those eyes belong to me, Ben and Cordelia.
‘Fancy sharing a taxi home?’ I suggest when last orders are called at the bar. ‘My house is on the way to yours.’
‘Perfect,’ he tells me. ‘It’s been so good, hasn’t it? This. You and me making our to-do lists and planning together.’
‘It has,’ I agree with a smile.
We swap some final ideas and then we get into the taxi, which takes me to Katie’s Cottage first. My heart sings when I see him gasp at the sight of my new abode.
‘Lou Doherty, you dark horse! You bought Katie’s Cottage?’ he says in awe. ‘Wow. That was your childhood dream, Lou. I can’t – I can’t even tell you how happy I am for you.’
We sit on either side of the back seat of the car, but hereaches across and touches me for the first time, taking my hand into his for only a few seconds.
‘Dreams do come true, Ben,’ I tell him. ‘But I always did believe so.’
It was a productive evening, it was promising, and it made me feel more alive than I have done in a very long time.
‘Never mind raining cats and dogs, it’s raining monkeys and giraffes out there.’ Nana Molly shuffles into Buds and Beans the next morning sporting a new and very flashy red raincoat which clashes with her burgundy hair. ‘Oh my goodness, it’s busy, Lou. You should have called me earlier. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes browsing in the library.’
‘That sounds like heaven to me,’ I reply as I steam up another frothy coffee.
‘Oh, it was, but I can do that any time,’ she says. ‘I told you from the start I’m here when you need me.’
She hangs up her coat on the hooks by the front door and makes her way behind the coffee bar, where I’m setting up three cappuccinos and a chai tea for a brand-new set of customers who are in the area for a carol service in St Mary’s Church.
‘I’ve served Master Campbell his third cinnamon latte today – and he’s been in here every day this week, not that I’m complaining,’ I tell her. ‘He’s very welcome and a very easy customer. His face lights up when he sees you or Mum, Nana. Maybe you’re the reason he’s here.’
She tuts at my suggestion.
‘I’m sure it’s not because of me in particular. Lonelinessis an epidemic, Lou,’ she tells me. ‘It’s so tough for anyone on their own at this time of year, but especially for Master Campbell as he does have a family but they’re so far away.’
