Page 72 of Every Christmas Eve
None of us answers because none of us knows the answer, though we’re probably all thinking the very same.
‘The whole place is already a sodding mess outside,’Uncle Eric moans to me. I do believe it’s the first time he has said anything to me directly since I told him Lou wouldn’t be helping us out any further. I wonder if she received my flowers yesterday. I’ve heard nothing from her as yet. ‘We’ll have a hundred dripping umbrellas in the hallway and muddy feet throughout the whole house. This is a disaster.’
Ava looks like she might cry. Mum looks like she’s frozen to the spot. I’m the picture of misery for so many reasons that I’ve almost lost count, from Ava’s upset to being separated again from Lou after everything was going so well.
Maybe we should have stayed in Dublin for Christmas after all.
‘All right, team. Get it all out of your system once and for all,’ says Cordelia, clapping her hands together.
‘Eh?’ says Uncle Eric.
‘All of your moans, groans and worries,’ she continues. ‘Spit them all out now because in thirty seconds we’re shifting this negative energy and getting back to what we do best round here.’
‘What’s that?’ asks Uncle Eric.
‘Very funny,’ she replies. ‘You know what I’m talking about. Shake off all those worries once and for all because tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, we are going to rock everyone’s socks off with the best party this village has ever seen, rain or no rain.’
I like her thinking. I’m not usually a defeatist, but I have felt the mood slipping as the afternoon rolls in and the rain dances against the windowpanes.
‘Remember the year we’d the crisp, fresh snow andsunshine,’ Mum recalls with a smile. ‘That was such a wonderful party.’
‘Or when it snowed so heavily one time, we had to clear the laneways with a snowplough,’ Uncle Eric chuckles. ‘We thought it would stop our guests, but no. Instead, it added to the fun and the atmosphere was the best I’d ever known.’
I put my hand on Ava’s shoulder. She doesn’t move away like I expected she might, which both surprises and delights me. I haven’t been able to reach her properly since Uncle Eric’s outburst in this very room the evening before last.
‘That’s the spirit,’ says Cordelia. ‘We can’t control the weather, but we can take care of everything else, so let’s go, family. Let’s get this show on the road.’
Thank heavens for my sister.
Her upbeat vibe and uplifting energy is instantly contagious, and I feel my spirits rise a little as she clicks her fingers and sways to imaginary music. She takes Ava by both hands and swirls her around.
‘OK, so it’s time to check our to-do list,’ I say, doing my best to match my sister’s evergreen glow. ‘Let’s go over it so we know exactly what needs doing before we open the doors on the big day.’
I fetch a clipboard from the table, waiting for the inevitable groan from the others. We always joked how the person with the clipboard was the person wanting to be in charge, so I lovingly pass it to my sister with a smile.
‘Ava, you’re with me in the kitchen,’ says Cordelia, running her eye down what’s left to do today. ‘Are you good atdecorating pastries? I know that’s a silly question. Of course you are.’
‘I can try,’ my daughter answers quietly.
‘She is perfect for that job,’ says Mum. ‘What do you need me to do, then?’
Cordelia paces around the ballroom where chairs are stacked in corners and Dad’s makeshift stage leans against the wall.
‘Mum, we’ll need you to keep an eye out for a delivery of leaflets and goody bags from the Daffodil charity,’ says Cordelia, full of business.
‘Uncle, we’ll get cracking on these tables and chairs,’ I say to Uncle Eric, doing my best not to think too much about how Lou would be taking over if she were here, dressing the tables to perfection like only she could. ‘And we need to set the stage up too for the jazz band. If it crackles with thunder outside while we’re doing so, then Dad is definitely sending us a sign. Though he did love jazz music.’
Uncle Eric rolls up his sleeves and chuckles. Joking aside, I do think my father would have more than mixed feelings about throwing the Christmas Eve party again, but despite his griping year after year, he always managed to enjoy it when it was in full swing.
Overall, he was often overwhelmed when it came to the upkeep of Ballyheaney House, having watched his own father and grandfather develop it over the years into what it is today. Dad believed each generation had a responsibility to pass on the house in a better condition than they found it, and I promised him that Cordelia and I would do just that.
We haven’t quite figured out how yet, we haven’t discussed where we’ll find the money, but there’s so much potential.
Cordelia and Ava head off to the kitchen to decorate pastries, while Mum goes to the drawing room to relax and keep watch for the arrival of the charity leaflets and gifts. As I watch Ava set off to help her aunt, my heart bursts with pride.
‘You know I feel your mum so close to us every day, Ava,’ I told her last night at bedtime, but she barely lifted her eyes from her iPad. ‘She’s never far away. I can still hear her voice in my head, I can still see her beautiful face, and sometimes when I walk into our bedroom, I even think I can smell her perfume.’
It was the truth. As much as I feel my father’s presence here at Ballyheaney House, I often find Stephanie when I need her most.
