Page 62 of Every Christmas Eve
Ben still has my heart. There’s no question of that. He believes we still ‘fit’.
I so want to believe him.
With only three days until the party, I really hope I can.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ben
‘Five, four, three, two, one – ta-da!’
Ava and I are on our way back to Ballyheaney House, practising how we’re going to give the extra-special early Christmas present to my mum. Our two-hour round trip has been the perfect medicine to take my mind off the events of the night before.
I’m towing an enclosed trailer on the back of the car, the light fall of sleet is giving my windscreen wipers a run for their money, and we’ve the heat blasting as we face the last leg of our journey.
To fill the time, Ava is having great fun gauging her grandmother’s reaction to our very creative idea for her Christmas present.
We both know it could go either way. She’s going to either love it, or she’s going to chase us right back to County Antrim where we got it from, with an order to return it immediately.
‘Your turn, Dad,’ Ava tells me. ‘I’ve done the countdown, so I’m us and you’re Grandma. You’ve seen the present, so what do you say?’
I do my best to imitate my mother’s soft, serene voice, which rarely changes tone.
‘Oh, how did you think of something so unique, darling son and granddaughter?’ I purr as Ava goes into fits of giggles. ‘I might even shed a wee tear. It’s a work of art! I’d go so far as to say it’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had in my whole life. Even better than the red collared dress I got when I was ten years old. Have I told you about that dress, Ava? I still have it in the attic, you know. Good as new. It might fit you, you know?’
Ava throws her head back laughing. She has heard about the red collared dress every single Christmas since she was born, as have Cordelia and I. My father once joked how our mother would have got married in that dress if it had still fitted her.
I’m silently preparing myself for the worst when I reveal our Christmas surprise, if truth be told. Last night’s conversation with Lou has knocked me off my axis, but I had to tell her about Olivia. It’s as much about respect for her as it was to get it off my chest.
But that was then, this is now, and while Lou and I have the memories of Christmas Eves at Ballyheaney House and a sizzling chemistry to cling on to, a lot of our time together from now on will be like starting from scratch.
‘On an equally important note, do you have any more Christmas shopping to do?’ I ask my daughter. ‘Now that Cordelia is home, you should nab her for a quick trip into Belfast to find a few bits for your wardrobe.’
Ava drums her fingers on the car door in thought.
‘I could always wear Grandma’s red collared dress,’ she says to me, then, imitating my mother’s voice, ‘Do you have all your shopping done, Benjamin?’
‘OK, OK, drop it before we get any closer or she’ll hear you,’ I tell her with a smile. ‘Yes, I’ve all my shopping done. Well, I think so. I might like to get Lou something to thank her for all her help with the party. Any ideas?’
I know I’m being slightly optimistic when it comes to Lou wanting any sort of gift from me, but I’d rather try to show some sort of appreciation than not.
‘Flowers?’ says Ava, still in giddy mode.
‘That’s very helpful,’ I nod. ‘Now, why didn’t I think of buying flowers for someone who runs a florist’s?’
Ava hums along to the Christmas songs we’ve been playing as we arrive at Ballyheaney at last.
‘OK, run me through it all again, quickly,’ she says, glancing over to the big house across the lawns.
‘You distract Grandma in the library or the kitchen,’ I remind her. ‘I’ll pretend I’ve to show Uncle Eric a last-minute minor repair out here, and when the time is right and our gift is on full display, we’ll call her outside. Then we’ll soon see if we still have a Christmas to celebrate here or if it’s cancelled.’
Ava nods, drinking in my every word. Her love of a challenge reminds me of her sweet mother so much sometimes, especially if we can make it fun.
‘Loud and clear, boss,’ she says with a fist pump in my direction. ‘Loud and clear.’
Moments later, after Ava has gone inside the house, Uncle Eric is making his way towards me dressed for an Arcticexpedition even though the winter sun has decided to make a late-afternoon appearance. I can barely see any of his face, he’s so covered up in the collar of his puffy navy coat and his grey woolly hat.
‘I told her not to make a fuss, but she wouldn’t listen,’ he says as he walks towards me. ‘Cordelia has gone out for the day, you two were off on your travels, so I told her in no uncertain terms to be cooking such a big meal, but would she listen? She’s roasting a duck as we speak, watching the clock for your return.’
