Cathy Kelly 3-book Bundle (92 page)

Ingrid walked through the store, breathing in the smells and seeing the sights that made it so magical. It was Halloween and, in honour of the day, orange and black decorations covered the store, with bats and witches whirling up above, and pumpkins sitting on many counters. Star would laugh when she saw it all, Ingrid knew.

Halloween was really Oíche Samhain, according to Star, a pre-Christian harvest festival where the veil between the worlds lifted and spirits could roam as they pleased. Star often talked to her about the pre-Christian traditions and Ingrid found it fascinating. She’d told Star she ought to write a book about what she knew.

‘What I know has to be passed down person to person,’ Star said, and Ingrid had grown quiet.

She felt sad that Star had no beloved daughter to follow her, although Natalie Flynn went to see her a lot, and seemed to be like a daughter to her. But perhaps the magic only came from a true genetic link.

Star had known Natalie’s mother and she’d kept a lot of her things: books, clothes, jewellery. Natalie seemed to love going there and listening to stories about her mother. Molly had visited Star, too, with Natalie.

‘You won’t tell her, will you?’ Ingrid had said on the phone when Molly mentioned she was visiting Star’s house with her friend.

‘Of course not,’ Star had said. ‘That’s yours to tell, if you wish to.’

Ingrid had no desire to. It was the last issue she’d worried over: whether to tell Molly or Ethan, who’d returned from his travels now, about what had really gone on in their father’s last few months. She’d finally come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t help them in any way to know about it. Why tarnish their image of David? It might be harder for them to forgive him than it had been for her. And she had forgiven him.

The peace she’d felt at Star’s house had stayed with her. She didn’t feel rage or anger, just a sadness that he’d died without him ever telling her. Love wasn’t the clichéd never having to say you were sorry: it was compromise and moving on. She understood that now.

It was hard to believe that it was over six months since David had died. In one way, it seemed longer. Yet in another, he felt only a heartbeat away.

She’d said so to Marcella on the phone that morning.

‘He would be so proud of what you’ve managed to do,’ Marcella said.

‘I hope so,’ Ingrid said. ‘Now, you. How’s Italy?’

Marcella and Lorcan were on honeymoon in Italy after a small registry office wedding. The speed with which they’d gone from getting back together to getting married had stunned everyone, but Lorcan was firm that he wanted to be married.

Ingrid thought he was gorgeous and exactly the sort of strong character that a woman like Marcella really needed.

‘Fabulous. I want to move here, but Lorcan says their plumbing is totally different, so it’s a no-go.’

‘Are you ready?’ said a voice behind Ingrid now.

It was Star, carrying a folded-up tapestry with her.

‘I’m ready,’ said Ingrid, hugging her. ‘Is this it?’

‘Yes.’

The two women took the escalator together up to the café where Ingrid had arranged to talk to the entire staff of Kenny’s at ten past six, when the store was closed. It was six now, just enough time to look at the tapestry.

Molly, Ethan and Natalie were already in the café, sitting at a table having lattes.

Star laid the precious tapestry out on the table beside them.

Ingrid had commissioned it: a picture of the front of the store with David just visible as a figure leaning out of his office window. Made in the warm golds and ochres of the shop front, it was a beautiful work of art.

‘Fantastic,’ said Molly admiringly.

‘It’s beautiful, Star,’ said Ingrid. ‘You are a genius.’

Charlie, walking by with Shotsy, who was carrying their tray of coffee for her and tea for Charlie, stopped to admire it too.

‘How fabulous,’ she cried. ‘I love it.’

Star smiled at her. ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re Charlotte, Kitty Nelson’s daughter.’

Star had never seen Charlotte up close, although she’d recognised her with Kitty at David’s funeral.

Charlie knew she had assumed the usual slightly wary look she did when people mentioned Kitty to her. But she shook it off. Things were different now. She wasn’t Number Two Daughter any more–not in Kitty’s mind and, more importantly, not in Charlie’s mind. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m Charlie Fallon.’

‘Star Bluestone,’ said Star, and grasped Charlie’s outstretched hand.

Visions of sadness swept by in a rush to be replaced by such love, love for a tall man and love for a skinny teenager. And in the background, in Charlie’s arms, was a baby girl with a shock of bright auburn hair.

Her eyes instinctively went down to Charlie’s flat stomach. Charlie saw it happen and paled, shaking her head to show that nobody knew. Nobody except Brendan, Mikey and the doctor so far.

Star leaned forwards to whisper. ‘Congratulations, my dear Charlie,’ she said. ‘True motherhood is a great gift. One of the best of all. You have that gift in abundance, lucky you. Not everyone,’ she paused meaningfully, ‘has it. I haven’t met your mother for years,’ she added. ‘Give her my best.’

Charlie felt as if she was sleepwalking as she followed Shotsy to a spare table. The woman had seen everything in an instant. And then the glimmer of a smile began on her face. She’d said Charlie had the gift of true motherhood. She did. Charlie knew that she did. And she appreciated that gift above all others.

‘You’re not going all healthy on me, are you?’ asked Shotsy, putting Charlie’s tea in front of her. ‘Drinking tea instead of coffee?’

‘If I tell you this, you’re not to tell anyone, OK?’ began Charlie.

As the café filled up, Star stood beside Natalie.

‘Do you want to come to me for dinner later?’ she asked.

‘No, I’m meeting Rory, he’s coming to pick me up,’ Natalie said, and she glowed. ‘We’re going out with Anna and Dennis to the pasta place down the road.’

‘What about Lizzie?’ asked Star, who remembered Natalie telling her about her childhood friend.

She knew how distressed Natalie had felt over Lizzie’s obvious drinking problem–Des had been anxious that when Natalie heard about her mother’s alcoholism she’d have been devastated. But Natalie had handled it well. ‘Mum recovered,’ she said. ‘That took huge courage.’

‘Rory and I were at a party with her and the gang a week ago,’ Natalie said.

Lizzie had got terribly drunk at the party, and the next day, Natalie had gone round to Steve and Lizzie’s house, sat down on an armchair–with Lizzie lying, groaning with a hangover on the couch–and said: ‘Lizzie, you’re my dear friend and it breaks my heart to see you like this. You must be going through absolute hell, thinking nobody knows about your drinking and hating yourself.’

Lizzie had gone white and Steve was bent over with his head in his hands.

‘She won’t listen to me,’ he said.

Lizzie had said nothing but just sobbed.

‘I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, Lizzie, but I think you need help.’ She got up and put all the alcoholism and rehab literature she’d collected on the coffee table in front of Lizzie. ‘I’m going now, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’ve got a story about someone really special who was just like you, and recovered. My Mum. I’m so proud of her and what she did; she showed you can leave rock bottom and find happiness.’ She bent down, kissed Lizzie and left.

Star beamed as Natalie told her the story. ‘You sound just like your mother, there,’ she said proudly. ‘Talking of which, I found this. It was on the floor of the attic. I didn’t open it.’

‘This’ was a dusty, yellowed notebook with an elastic band holding it shut. She handed it to Natalie who took it reverently.

Natalie: advice!
was written on the outside.

Natalie stroked the notebook as if it was the Rosetta Stone.

‘I just have to look at this,’ she said to everyone, and rushed off to find a quiet place. Ingrid was about to speak, but Natalie needed to know what her mother had to say to her.

‘It’s been a tough six months for us all,’ Ingrid said, looking down at the sea of faces watching her. ‘We all miss David so very much.’

Beside her, Ethan snuffled and Ingrid saw Molly put a
discreet arm around him. He was like his father, she thought fondly, hated anyone seeing him get upset. ‘And we would miss Kenny’s if anything happened to it.’

The mood of the crowd changed subtly and Ingrid could sense the tension.

‘But we’re not selling. I’ve brought you all here tonight to tell you that Kenny’s is here to stay. We have a new investor.’

At this, Eric Johannsen emerged from behind her, looking every inch the urbane financier. ‘Let me introduce you to Eric Johannsen, who is now a shareholder in the company and promises that Kenny’s, far from being sold, will be the one doing the buying out of other stores!’

The crowd roared. Ingrid had seen the crowd dynamic in action before. It was like a wave, a wave that lifted the mood until everyone was shouting with delight.

‘Your store, your jobs are safe,’ Ingrid said, when the sound died down. ‘I’ll let Eric talk to you for a moment.’

She moved aside and while Eric spoke briefly about the great plans for Kenny’s, she went to stand behind Molly and Ethan to kiss both their heads.

‘David would be proud,’ whispered Star.

‘I think he would,’ Ingrid murmured, smiling.

She looked at the store, her store, and felt huge pride in it. Thanks to her, this place was still going, would still be a haven for both the customers and the people who worked there. David had created a big family and he’d left it to her to take care of, and that, she could do.

In a small office on the fifth floor, Natalie found peace. She slammed the door shut, sank on to a chair and carefully opened the notebook.

Darling Natalie,

I’m not here for you and that’s the worst thing ever. I would give up years of my life to be there for
you, but I don’t have any to give. It’s scary the things you don’t have any choice about. You get to pick hair colour or where your flat is and pointless things you think are important, and you have no choice in how long you live with your beloved baby and husband.

I haven’t always got it right. Understatement! Star will tell you, if she’s still doing magic for beginners when you’re old enough to come looking for me. But I screwed it up plenty. So don’t do what I did, right? She’ll tell you. Your dad doesn’t really know it all because it might have broken his heart more than all this is currently breaking his heart.

OK, tears there. I’m sad, but I am coping. I am saying this more for you than for me, actually. Star helped. She did this thing where she held me and I felt peace. I know I’m dying, but I felt this amazing sense of calm. It was like this love rushing all over me, making me think there was love waiting for me. I’m not scared of dying. Really not scared. And, Natalie, I have been scared in my life, believe me! It’s going to be OK. The only scary bit is leaving you. I don’t know how I’m going to do that. They’ll have to pry you out of my arms when I’m gone. You are why I want to stay forever. You, darling, you.

But I won’t be alone when I go, I’ll be with my own mum.

Hell, tears again. I grew up without a mother and it was the last thing I wanted for you. The difference is, you got a great Dad. That’s all I’ll say.

If I was there, I’d be teaching you some of the stuff I learned along the way. Not that I learned it quickly–Jesus, no. Nobody learned as slow as me. I mean, lettuce learns quicker. But when I’ve learned it, it stays learned. Just as well, ’cos if you had to learn
all I have twice, you’d be dead…well, that’s happening anyway.

I wish I could write it all down beautifully but I have to do it my way, the Dara way. so this is it, condensed:

* Be true to yourself. Sounds mad, doesn’t it? I mean, what’s true? But you’ll know when you get there, trust me on this.

* Trust your instincts. I didn’t trust any part of me, so I discounted my instincts too. But when I thought about it, nine times out of ten, my original instinct had been right. I just hadn’t paid attention to it.

* Be kind to yourself. Love yourself. Nobody else is going to be able to if you don’t first. It’s a hard lesson, that one, but important. If you love yourself, you won’t let anyone hurt you. Sounds so obvious, but you’d be amazed how long it took me to get that.

You’re probably OK. Honestly. Despite your eyebrows/short legs…(put in whatever’s appropriate here). Because you will have something that gives you great mental anguish about not being right and occasionally it will give your anxiety something to hold tightly on to–that if it wasn’t for the eyebrows/short legs/whatever, everything would be great. They have nothing to do with it all whatsoever. People need something to worry about, like the 1950s needed Communism and then it was the Permissive Society. And one day, you will look back at an old photo of you and wonder why you worried about your eyebrows when you had so much going for you…When you do the looking back at the old photo, by the
way, you’ll probably be dying and the great truth of life will be hitting you over the head like a sledgehammer that says the young and living don’t appreciate it and that only the old and about-to-die do. I’m trying to-by-pass all that for you.

* Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.

* Only one person can change your life, and that’s you. Don’t wait for anyone else to do it, Prince Charming or otherwise. Be your own prince.

* Fight for who you are. It takes a long time to find who you are, but when you do, take care of that person. She’s one of the most precious friends you’ll ever have.

* Learn how to tell men you like them but aren’t interested sexually. So important this one.

* Be kind to other women. It really works–most of the time. And even on those days when it doesn’t, it’ll make you feel better inside. And on the outside, actually! Because spite carves out things in your soul and it carves out things on your face too, the sort of lines that dermatologists say are from the sun or smoking, and are really from spite.

* When you’re annoyed, don’t speak from that place inside yourself that nurtures all past hurts. That will just make it all worse. Speak out of love and a desire to make things better.

* Learn how to say no. Practise. Say it at least once every day and, you know what? You’ll get better at it.

* Sometimes, you can’t fix it. Other people, for example: you can’t fix them. You just have to decide whether it’s worth hanging around until they fix
themselves–or, if it’s worth hanging around even though they may never decide to fix themselves. Your choice over the hanging around, but when it comes to the fixing, you have no power. There’s times when you just have to let go. Letting go works for a lot of life, actually.

* What doesn’t destroy you makes you stronger. I just hope you don’t have to go through that process in the first place. But if you do, it’s true. Trust me.

* Life seems so long when you’re in the middle of it, but when you know it’s going to end soon, you realise how little time we have on earth. Don’t waste it. Live for now. Not for tomorrow or yesterday. Now. You don’t know what will happen tomorrow, and yesterday is gone, so all you have is this moment. Enjoy it.

* Make your choices matter. Do what makes you happy. Tell the people you love that you love them. Forget about waiting for a rainy day.
Do it now.

* Get down on your knees every day and say thank you. Even if you don’t feel grateful all the time, practise it, and one day you will appreciate all the good things. And that’s one of the greatest gifts of all.

* It’s never too late to stop and change the way you’re going. Never. I did and look what I got–you and your Dad.

Talking of your Dad, when you find a love like that and it’s a once in a lifetime love, hold on to him.

I’m crying now, Natalie, I better stop. Star wants me downstairs because you need me. Did I tell you that? You’re downstairs with her and I’m upstairs trying not to cry writing this. I can’t write it with your dad or he just breaks down. He’s a wonderful Dad, but
I guess you know that. I hope I finish this later but in case I don’t get to it, I love you, Natalie. Always have, always will.

Mum