Page 81 of Every Christmas Eve
‘You rascal,’ I say. ‘Our guests will be here any minute, so I reckon it’s the perfect time for a glass of champagne, though that display looks almost too good to touch.’
A pyramid of champagne flutes on the round hallway table is a striking centrepiece, but I can’t take credit for it. Olivia had the idea when she came round earlier, armed with a magnum of champagne as a contribution from the committee, though I’ve a feeling it has come from her own pocket, if truth be told.
‘I’ll wait a few more minutes, then,’ says Uncle Eric, licking his lips. ‘Whoever thought we’d see the day that witch would be back through the doors of Ballyheaney. I hope she doesn’t upset you.’
I throw my head back in laughter.
‘No, she doesn’t upset me at all any more,’ I tell him. ‘She’s a much humbler version of herself now that she’s in her forties. I haven’t told anyone yet, but this morning I agreed to take one of her gorgeous puppies after Christmas. He’s the last of the litter. I’m going to call him Jingle, as a reminder of the year we all got back together.’
Uncle Eric doesn’t know whether to look puzzled or impressed at the revelation.
‘As long as he reminds you of happy times. You always did like a festive name for the animals,’ he says, in recognitionof Little Eve. ‘Maybe one day we’ll have dogs and ponies and ducks back here at Ballyheaney.’
‘Well, Alexander the Great is a good start,’ I say. ‘A Christmas party in full swing again and a peacock strutting around the courtyard are two bold steps in the right direction.’
Ben swoops in to join our conversation, but we don’t take it too far as he’s keen to make sure we’re all in place to welcome the first of our guests, who are trickling into the car park already.
‘Mum, Uncle Eric, make sure you’re close by the front door,’ he says. ‘Cordelia! Ava!’
He calls up the stairs to where his sister and daughter seem to be taking ages to get ready. Cordelia is confident that all is under control in the kitchen, so she didn’t mind taking the time to help Ava. We’ve all been keeping a close eye on her since yesterday’s escapade, and when she asked me to stay for an early-evening Christmas movie once we were all warm and dry, I couldn’t refuse such an endearing invitation for the second time.
‘All set?’ says Ben.
‘All set,’ I reply, my very toes tingling with anticipation.
As the clock strikes two, I let the schoolchildren’s teacher know that their singing can begin, and when they strike up ‘Let it Snow’, jingling little sleigh bells in their hands, I have goosebumps.
Ben catches my eye again. We both break into a huge smile. This is it. We’ve made it happen, and it already feels even more special than we could have imagined.
I look to the left towards the staircase where Cordelia,looking a vision in a white tailored trouser suit, makes her way down the stairs holding her niece’s hand. Ava isn’t wearing the Spanish outfit she’d almost settled on, nor is she wearing the sparkly dress which is too last year.
Instead, Ava is wearing a red dress which clashes fashionably with her auburn hair and fits her like a glove. With fine black buttons up the front, a flared skirt and neat collar, she looks like she’s stepped out of a different era, with all the grace of the beautiful young lady she is becoming.
‘Surprise!’ says Cordelia when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. ‘Wearing her grandmother’s precious Christmas dress from 1960, please welcome our very own belle of the ball, Miss Ava Heaney.’
Ben bursts into applause, his face a picture of wonder while Tilda wipes tears from her eyes. Uncle Eric puts his hand on his chin, shaking his head with delight.
‘Well, I never,’ he says. ‘What a spectacular touch to an already spectacular afternoon. And it looks like our first guests have arrived.’
Ava makes a beeline for me, her face bright and cheerful. This time I don’t hesitate to give her a hug.
‘I saw the framed photos of Mum and Grandpa you arranged in the drawing room,’ she tells me, her voice full of delight. ‘When the lady from the cancer charity asked who they were as she was setting up her information, I didn’t even cry. I just told her all about them both and she was such a good listener.’
‘See?’ I say to her, squeezing her tighter. ‘You’ll neverforget your mummy. Never ever. Now, how’d your drawing-room playlist turn out?’
‘Really cool! I even included ‘Last Christmas’ for Mum, and Bing Crosby for Grandpa Jack. I’d better go put it on before Cordelia asks me to help with more kitchen duties,’ she says, a fresh sparkle in her eye and a spring in her step.
I look on in wonder from my position beside Olivia’s magnificent champagne display, watching the Heaneys greet each and every guest with laughter, handshakes, hugs and enthusiasm. Declan the delivery guy is here with his mother, who is thankfully feeling well enough to attend.
‘I’ve an extra donation for the charity,’ he tells me, holding out an envelope stuffed with cash. ‘Some of my clients around the village couldn’t get tickets as it’s sold out, so they asked me to pass these funds on instead. And there’s something in there from me and Mum too as a thank you. We couldn’t have got through her illness without the support of the community and the charity.’
I direct him to the drawing room, watching how he is so patient and attentive to his darling mother, the centre of his whole world.
‘Lou, you look delightful,’ I hear my mum say. ‘Is there anything I can help with? Is this dress OK? I wasn’t sure if it was a bit over the top, but Edward says it’s perfect.’
‘Ah, Edward!’ I say as the penny drops.
I spot Master Campbell making his way towards us through the gathering crowd.
