Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (34 page)

“You did the right thing,” I soothe even though a tiny part
of me knows that I will never do that to my children. I will never say that to
her though because I love her, and because I will never be a scared widowed
woman with an unruly son who was paying too much attention to any gangs in the
area as a way of seeking male approval. Ireland was a different place then and
boys like me ran in danger of disappearing and dying violently.

Then as now she surprises me though by scoffing. “I’m not
sure of that but I did the best thing, even though I thought I’d get you back
in a few months with your tail between your legs, humbled and happy to be
home.”

“What?”

She looks startled. “You knew that. I told you. I said that
I’d ring you in a few weeks and see how you felt then.”

I groan. “I thought you meant that you hoped I’d fall into
line and do as I was told.”

“No, I meant that I’d come and get you, but Bram I couldn’t
say it when you left because you’d have taken no notice of the lesson that I
was trying to teach you.” She hesitates. “Would you have come home?” she asks
in a small voice.

I grab her into a close hug smelling the scent of L’Air du
Temps by Nina Ricci which she’s worn since my dad bought her the first bottle.
“Ma, I’d have come home like a fucking shot if I’d have known that.”

She huffs out a sob and doesn’t even bother to correct my
language. “I wish that I’d known. I’d have been on the first boat over. I
thought you liked it and that having a man around the house was giving you what
you needed.”

I forbear from pointing out that would only be the case if
what I needed were slaps and punches and constant lectures over what makes a
man. I won’t say it because she doesn’t need to hear it, and I don’t need to
say it. It’s done and dusted and maybe I did learn something, even though it
was principally the opposite of everything that my uncle wanted to teach me.

As if sensing my thoughts she tilts her head back. “Maybe it
was for the best though love because if you hadn’t been there you’d never have
met the boys. You wouldn’t have all of this. You wouldn’t have Alys.”

I smile at that. I can’t help but smile when I hear her
name. It warms and strengthens me like a shot of whisky on a cold day.

She pats my face. “Ah, that’s the face I want to see on my
boy’s face on his wedding day when I’m talking about his beloved. I’m glad I
arranged all that.”

I nod for a second and then I do a double take. “What? What
did you just say?”

There’s a tap on the door and Matt sticks his head round.
He’s dressed in a suit similar to mine and his hands are full of flowers. He
looks confused for a second. “What did I say?” he asks as my mum hugs him
energetically. She loves Matt, sometimes more than me I think, and he always
stays at her house if he’s over here on business.

“Not you,” I say impatiently. “
Her
. She just said
something very interesting.”

My mother smiles impishly. “I said that I was glad that I
arranged him and Alys.”

I splutter as Matt laughs. “You did not arrange
anything
,”
I say indignantly.

She scoffs. “Bram love sometimes I think that you’re a
little beer drip short of a barrel.” Matt chokes out a large guffaw. “Of course
I arranged it. I sent her to you didn’t I?”

“Tell me more,” I say silkily, folding my arms over my chest
and settling my ass on the edge of a table.

She smiles. “Such a lovely girl. I knew as soon as I met her
that she was the one for you. The ladies of the church agreed with me too.”

I straighten. “You didn’t throw it open to public vote did
you because that’s what this sounds like?” Matt’s face is now a deep maroon
colour as he tries not to laugh.

“Not public vote,” she replies cautiously. “Just the church
ladies, and they’ve all known you since you were in nappies.” I groan and she
hastens on. “Really Bram this happens all the time in small communities -
matchmaking and setting up unions. Really I should be on television like that
Millionaire Matchmaker but a poor Irish version.”

“You’re not poor,” I mutter distractedly. “But how could you
know that I’d fall for her?”

She straightens my sleeves and taking the boutonniere from
Matt she fastens it in my lapel, stepping back for a better look before nodding
with satisfaction. “Well really dear all I had to do was get you to swear not
to touch her. If your pecker wasn’t calling the shots I knew that your heart
would fall, and look at you now.” Matt laughs loudly as she gestures
triumphantly around the small waiting room of the ancient old chapel that has
stood in the grounds of this place for hundreds of years.

When we’d talked about wedding venues we’d both known that
we wanted to do it in Ireland and this place had instantly caught our
attention. Alys loved it for the atmosphere, while I liked it mainly because it
was big enough that if I bought all the hotel rooms out for a week we could
shut the gates of the long drive and close the fucking paps out for the entire
time.

I stare at her for long enough to make her start to squirm,
and then I reach forward and draw her into a tight hug. “Love you Ma,” I
whisper.

“Love you back a hundred times more,” she whispers back, and
then as if synchronised we both reach out an arm and draw Matt into the hug
with us. We stay that way for a few minutes and then Matt stirs.

“Much as this is lovely,” he says. “I actually came in to
tell you that the bride will be here in five minutes so you might want to get
ready.” My mum is instantly in motion whirling out of the room and leaving me
to Matt. I stare after her feeling a bit like a tiny cracked piece of me has
repaired itself, and then I look up to see Matt looking at me.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

“More than ready,” I offer smiling, and then straighten my
jacket which my mum had disarranged.

“I must say that I never thought we’d be in this position
now.” I look up, a retort on my lips but he hushes me dramatically. “I just
never thought that you’d ever settle down.” He pauses. “Well until she walked
through the door and then I somehow always knew that she was it.”

I smile. “She is mate. She’s it for me. No one else, ever.”
I mean it. Those last four words are inscribed on the inside of her wedding
ring.

He carries on. “I’m honoured that you chose me to be your
best man Pip.”

I look at him steadily. “Same could be said for you Matt. I
couldn’t think of anyone else that should be where you are. You’re my brother
and you always will be.” The choice had been easy for me. Sid’s my best friend
too but it was always going to be Matt, and Alys had wanted Sid to give her away.
The pair of them are incredibly close and always ganging up on me, and the
knowledge that he will be bringing her down the aisle to me means everything.

Matt reaches out and hugs me and for a second as we cling
together memories flash through me of times spent kicking a ball around the
park, telling each other dirty jokes and bending double laughing. The way that
he used to ring up school pretending to be my uncle when in reality I was
bunking off down at the record shops. I think of his scared, defiant face when
he confessed to being gay and the utter blinding relief when he knew that it
didn’t matter to me. I remember the bruises on his face and body, and the way
that he’d slunk to my house as if he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go when
his parents kicked him out. All the years and all the memories together of
scrimping and saving and his utter belief that we’d make it all coalesce into
this one moment in a dusty waiting room that smells of incense. Tears fill my
eyes and I kiss the top of his head.

“It’s you and me Matty always. No matter what happens in the
future it’ll still always be us that will be best friends.”

He sniffs inelegantly making me laugh. “Yes best friends,”
he mutters and then we step back and slap each other’s back, too used to each
other to be embarrassed by tears.

There’s a bang on the door and Seth eases into the room with
one of Charlie’s twin girls on his hip. They’re identical but due to the
absence of any squirming to get down I’m betting that this is Cora, which makes
sense as Charlie will be keeping Maizy close to him to alleviate potential
shenanigans. “Ready ladies?” he asks in his deep voice. “Jesus, tears. What are
the two of you going to be doing next? Plaiting each other’s hair or maybe your
periods will synchronise.”

He bursts out laughing and I smile at him. “Hi Mrs M,” I
try, and once again the sucker falls for it, spinning round quickly in panic in
case his octogenarian groupie is behind him. Matt and I crack up laughing and
he sucks his teeth insultingly at us.

“You can laugh. You haven’t seen her. She’s showing more
flesh than a stripper convention. One of the old ladies just crossed herself
when she got up and showed off her leopard skin thong.”

“I feel your pain,” I say piously. “But I can no longer lead
your wild, rock star life as I am about to marry the love of my life.”

He smiles. “They’re just coming so you need to get out
there.”

“I
know
,” I say indignantly. “I wish people would
stop saying that like I’m some sort of flibbertigibbet. I’ve been trying to leave
here for ages if only people wouldn’t keep falling on me and declaring their
love for me.”

“Oh fuck off,” Matt says and Seth laughs.

I brush past them. “Laugh it up fuzz ball,” I shout.

“Don’t you dare Han Solo me. There is no way that I am
Chewbacca in this scenario,” Seth shouts after me and we all enter the chapel
laughing. Looking around I check the chapel carefully, not that anything has
changed since I last obsessively checked it an hour ago. It looks just like it
should for her. It’s a beautiful old chapel with gorgeous stone walls, high
wooden open rafters and ancient old pews lined in red velvet. At the moment
it’s lit by lazy streaks of sunlight which fall through the stained glass
windows onto the old flag stoned floor in faded streaks of blue and gold and
red.

I spot Charlie and wink at him while noting that he is
indeed seated holding Maizy carefully and tightly on his lap. It never fails to
make me laugh that the ultimate man whore hell raiser has such dainty little
daughters.

I love that all of my friends have accepted Alys so much.
They love her and she’s become part of our mad family. One of my best memories
is the day of her and Elen’s graduation ceremony. We’d pooled their allocated
seats and all managed to go. I’ve never been so proud of anyone as I watched my
girl in her sexy cap and gown walk up to get her degree. The Mexican wave that
Mick and I had initiated had caused a few laughs, but the best bit of the day
had been fucking her in a cleaner’s cupboard in her gown and mortar board. I’d
made her wear her glasses too.

I feel a touch on my shoulder and cough uncomfortably at
what I was just thinking about in church as I turn to see Father Reilly
smirking at me. Yes smirking, he does nothing but that. Alys and I had to take
a few months of instruction before he’d marry us which is common, but the boys
had all found it hilarious. Part of this process had included him hearing our
confessions. He’d stopped smirking then because I’d taken great delight in
detailing every known transgression that I could think of. It had taken hours
and he’d looked pretty shaken when he’d emerged. Although he’d got his
sangfroid back fairly quickly, crossing himself and saying insouciantly, “I’d
have asked for the Cliff Notes Bram and brought sandwiches if I’d known I was
going to be in there that long.”

The opening sound of Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D’ rings out and
all my attention is gone then, drawn straight down the aisle to the one thing
in my life that means everything to me. The most precious, the most private of
my joys in a life spent in public excesses of all kinds.

I see Daisy walking in first strewing petals about with more
enthusiasm than grace making me smile. She waltzes down the aisle dressed in
pink even down to her little pink combat boots. She’s also moving much more
quickly than they’d planned until she’s nearly running as she gets near to me.
Finally, abandoning her basket she leaps at me and gives me a massive hug
around my knees. I can hear people laughing as I pick her up, hugging her hard
before passing her into Mick’s waiting arms. She curls up contentedly on his
lap putting out a hand to touch Elen’s belly. She’s seven months pregnant with
her and Mick’s first child and wears a heavy gold band on her hand.

The bump is the reason why she isn’t walking down the aisle
like Mabe, Viv and Nell are at the moment. Alys had asked her to but she’d said
that the thought of being on her feet all that time was too tiring. So instead
she organised everything wedding related to the extent that Mick and I called
her Elenzilla, and she’s wearing a similar dress to the other women. She’ll
make toasts at the reception and otherwise fulfil her role as Matron of Honour.

I smile at the ladies as they come nearer, seeing out of the
corner of my eye how Charlie smiles at Mabe as if there’s no one else around,
and I also note how Seth’s eyes follow Viv every step of the way despite Lucy
hanging on his arm. I sigh, making a mental note to start some matchmaking of
my fucking own, but then Sid and Alys hove into view and all my attention is
instantly on her.

She rests lightly on Sid’s arm who is grinning like a maniac
and I feel my throat tighten. She is one of the most beautiful women that I
have ever known and trust me I’ve known a few, but she remains utterly
oblivious to her looks. Today however she is almost glowing like she’s bathed
in sunshine. She’s carrying a large bouquet of white peonies. Ever since she
admitted that they’re her favourite flower I always send them to her every few
days just to see her face, alight and soft and warm with love as she looks at
me.