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Liv tried ringing Eddie next. Still no answer and she began to wonder if he was mad at her for staying on in Dublin. He was so different to Pete. Last night, she’d had to convince Pete not to stay in Dublin with her. Eventually, he drove home and texted her earlier with a photograph of Ballycove church with a white dusting of snow around the steeple. Damn it anyway, Eddie never really understood what it was like; she really didn’t have a choice – well perhaps she did. She wasn’t sure she could fathom exactly why she’d stayed, except some part of her felt she needed to take care of Finn O’Connell, which of course she knew was silly. He’d be well looked after even if he turned out to be the devil incarnate.
She rolled her eyes. She should be at home getting proposed to, brewing up plans for an autumn wedding, admiring that sparkling ring on her finger. Well, she couldn’t think about that now, it would only edge her deeper into loneliness for what she was missing out on in Ballycove. Perhaps, Eddie would propose in the New Year instead – that could be every bit as romantic, she told herself. In a strange way, that felt like a lifetime away now.
5
Christmas dinner was a nightmare. Never in all her years had Liv or indeed any of her family endured a meal like it. Barbara Quirke was quite simply the limit. It started with the seating arrangements – not that there were any, beyond everyone grabbing a chair. The only exception to that being her father, who had taken his place at one end of the table, next to where Rachel had always sat. He had a slightly taller chair than the rest, which helped in making it easier for him to stand up again. Barbara, obviously sensing that he’d managed to bag the best possible spot, complained bitterly, endlessly, until he swapped with her. Her chair was too soft, too straight, too low; she was sitting in a draught; she was too close to the fire – it didn’t stop until she’d managed to discommode everyone around the table, so right up until dessert, they were still playing a form of disgruntled musical chairs.
When her father tried to make their annual toast to Rachel, Barbara had talked over him, and only Eddie could have knocked back the glass of port they always poured for her, even though he swore he hadn’t seen it. Before they’d even pulled their crackers, her mother was flushed and her father had the look of a rabbit in the headlights of an epic strain of myxomatosis.
And then there was lunch – the soup was too oniony; her potatoes were lumpy; she was quite sure that there was gluten in the ham; oh, how she missed the bread stuffing; and finally, no, she couldn’t possibly look at dessert. ‘Women of a certain age,’ she’d said, and looked pointedly at Yvonne, ‘need to have a little self-restraint or they are in danger of really letting themselves go.’
And all the while, Eddie seemed to be totally oblivious. Years of listening, or perhaps learning not to listen, had made him completely immune to his mother’s insufferable whining. He just sat there, bless him, complimenting Yvonne on the food and Mikey on the wine. Unfortunately, he’d ended up sitting next to her mother and that meant his glass was never empty and so probably without even realising it, he was steadily making his way through whichever bottle was within easy reach. He made no offer to help with clearing away dishes or refilling anyone else’s glass. Instead, he became drunker as lunch went on and by dessert he was grinning like a fool with hardly two words to say for himself, leaving the pleasantries to everyone else around him.
By the end of the main course, when he belched loudly, Liv wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle him, Barbara or her own mother for making him drunk – even if she hadn’t meant to. Measures were never Yvonne’s strong point. Somehow, Liv managed to keep calm and found herself talking too much to cover over his obvious bad manners, but inside, she was ripping. How could he not realise that he was becoming drunker with each sip of wine he was knocking back? How dare he turn up here without so much as a token for her parents and then sit there as if his place at their table was his due?
‘So, then, Eddie,’ her mother said, trying to jolly things along and take the focus away from Barbara’s complaining about the new doctor in the village. ‘I hear you’ve been really busy this year in the run-up to Christmas?’
‘Yeah, well…’ he managed before draining his wine glass.
‘I expect it sets you up for the cold month of January,’ her father chimed in, obviously delighted to be moving away from the bitching session Barbara wanted to embark on about recent changes to the village surgery.
‘Have you made anything exciting this year?’ Maya asked, when Eddie said nothing for a while. A year earlier, he’d made a pendant for a C-list celebrity who was more famous now for her plastic surgery than any other notable career credits. His mother had obviously hoped that it would catapult him into making the next crown jewels and she’d told the whole village about it. ‘Any royal engagement rings? Earrings for Michelle Obama? A toe ring for Madonna?’ She was laughing now, but that was Maya – full ofjoie de vivreafter a single glass of mulled wine.
‘No famous people this year, but he’s made some beautiful pieces,’ Liv said, thinking of the ring that was sitting out in his car waiting to be slipped onto her finger later.
‘I’m sure you have,’ her mother said warmly. ‘You really are quite brilliant.’ She fingered the tiny brooch that Liv had commissioned for her a few years earlier. It was only made from silver and synthetic diamonds, but she loved it as much as if it was a priceless gem.
‘Of course, it’s very hard to make a living at it.’ Barbara turned towards Liv’s father. ‘I mean, he’s talented and hardworking, but if people with money don’t want to buy jewels, or if they don’t know enough but to settle for something off the shelf, then…’ She’d been pouring money into her son’s business for years. It was Barbara who set Eddie up in the workshop. She’d bought and paid for it from the lump sum she’d received in her pension when she’d retired from her job a few years earlier. Although Eddie never admitted it, Liv suspected that, even now, Barbara was making regular payments into his account. A mother’s love – eh? There was no doubt, Barbara adored Eddie – so much so that Liv sometimes wondered how she’d cope when they got married and she’d have to share him with a wife.
She shrugged off the notion. She could handle Barbara Quirke. All she had to do was smile and show up occasionally and let the caustic comments wash off her back. She would learn to be a swan, perhaps, gliding effortlessly through their relationship, while paddling furiously beneath the water to keep up. ‘I always think if only he had the right contacts…’ She looked towards Liv and her nose wrinkled in automatic disdain. ‘But well, poor Liv – the only girls she knows are all nursing and, let’s face it, they can hardly afford to keep body and soul together these days, never mind know what good quality jewellery was from cheap tat.’ She delivered this gem without a qualm.
‘Some would say that having a calling to help others is a far better quality in a partner than having a calling to help yourself,’ Liv’s mother mumbled, but she kept her voice low when she caught the silent warning in Liv’s glance.
‘Oh, some of my friends have already commissioned pieces from Eddie – isn’t that right Eddie?’ Liv said. He was useless, really, up against his mother.
‘Yes, but they’ll be mainly silver, won’t they? I’m sure you’ll be lucky to get a cubic zirconia between them,’ Barbara said and looked pointedly across at Yvonne’s brooch, which she was so fond of.
‘Anyone for coffee?’ Maya asked a little too loudly to halt the conversation there. And so began the clearing away of dessert dishes and the making of coffee in the huge pot her mother took out only when they had a full house. It was a special treat – they’d bought it on a camping holiday in France years earlier – even then, it had been rustic. It was too large for one, and when it sat on the stove, brewing slowly, even Liv’s father couldn’t refuse a cup of heavy dark coffee. Liv and Maya began scraping off plates and loading them into their mother’s dishwasher while they waited for it to brew. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with that woman,’ Maya said under her breath. ‘And as for…’ She stopped. Liv already knew that Eddie would never be good enough for her in Maya’s eyes.
By five, they had exhausted all attempts at small talk. It felt as if the day never really got going, in spite of all the hard work put in, and Liv knew she wasn’t alone in breathing a sigh of relief when Barbara asked Eddie to find her coat so they could make their way home.
Eddie stumbled out of the parlour and fumbled with the coat stand. He was so drunk at this point, he could barely walk straight and hit off the walls on either side of the narrow hall. He returned to the parlour looking obscenely triumphant, his mother’s coat bundled over his arm as he narrowly avoided smashing into a standard lamp in the corner of the room.
‘Thanks for… you know…’ Eddie patted his pocket where he’d placed his gift with almost reverential care. ‘It’s great and…’ He hiccupped. ‘Sorry about…’ He looked at her with an expression that said it all.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, Mum and everything. I know she can be hard going, but really her heart is in the right place and being invited here today meant more to her than she’d ever let on.’ He smiled then and in just that moment, Liv remembered why she loved him.
‘I know; I get it. She’s her own worst enemy. It’s fine, really, Eddie. I just hope you both had a nice time.’
‘We did.’ He leant towards her so she could just about catch his familiar aftershave beneath the smell of wine and brandy. He put a hand up to her face, moving a stray strand of hair from her cheek. ‘It was just grand.’
‘Eddie,’ Barbara called from the car. ‘Are you coming? It’s freezing out here. Do you really want me to catch pneumonia on top of everything else?’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Eddie rolled his eyes and they both began to laugh, and in that moment, Liv had a feeling that the afternoon wasn’t a complete disaster.
‘We’ll make up for it,’ Liv said, putting her arms around his neck and hugging him close before he pulled away to the sounds of his mother’s calls from outside.
