My Mother's Secret (7 page)

Steffie told her about Liam’s delivery of them.

‘That was good of Mrs Kinsella.’ Roisin moved the arrangement to a different part of the veranda and looked at it critically. ‘Better there,’ she said. ‘D’you think we should’ve invited Liam and Michelle?’

‘I asked him if he’d like to drop by later,’ said Steffie. ‘But he’s working and Michelle’s away. He owns a restaurant, by the way. Cody’s. He’s the chef.’

‘Really?’ Roisin looked surprised. ‘Mum never told me that. Hopefully he doesn’t mind that I cancelled their reservation.’

‘What reservation?’

‘They were supposed to be eating there tonight. That’s why I asked you to put out Mum’s black dress. It was what she’d planned to wear.’

‘No! Maybe she would’ve preferred a flashy meal out to a party.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Roisin. ‘Nobody would prefer dinner in a restaurant to a party.’

Steffie said nothing.

‘Where are the lanterns?’ asked Roisin.

‘Oh, sorry, I left them in the car,’ replied Steffie. ‘I’ll get them now.’

‘I got some citronella torches too,’ added Roisin. ‘To keep the midges away. Get them as well, will you?’ She handed her car keys to her sister.

Steffie left Roisin rearranging the veranda while she ferried in the torches as well as the half-dozen glass lanterns plus candles that she’d picked up from Roisin earlier in the week. Roisin had got them on one of Lidl’s discount promotions, saying that it was too good a deal to pass up and that even though Jenny and Pascal already had some lanterns themselves, a party situation needed more.

Roisin always thought of the extra touches, Steffie acknowledged as she placed them on the veranda, and then noticed that her sister had scattered red and gold foil hearts on the table. She’s good at this sort of stuff. And I shouldn’t doubt her. It’s going to be a great party. She’ll make sure that it is.

Chapter 6

Steffie and Roisin were drinking pre-party glasses of wine on the veranda when the first of the guests showed up. Roisin went to answer the door because she half expected that it would be Paul and the children, but the arrivals were her mother’s younger sister Sarah and her eldest son Carl, who was accompanied by a striking young woman that neither Roisin nor Steffie had ever seen before. Carl’s companion was wearing a very short, very low-cut yellow sundress and matching yellow high-heeled sandals. Her champagne-blond hair was arranged in a deliberately messy updo, secured by diamanté clips and topped by a pair of sunglasses with heart-shaped frames. Her wide blue eyes were accentuated by even bluer metallic eyeshadow, while her lashes were sweeping and black. Her lips were cherry red. Carl introduced her to them as Summer.

‘Summer, as in the season?’ asked Roisin after she’d greeted her aunt with a kiss and a hug, then given her cousin a peck on the cheek. He hadn’t emailed his acceptance until the last minute, adding that Bernice, his girlfriend of eight years, wouldn’t be with him owing to the fact that they were currently ‘on a break’ but giving no indication that he was ‘on a break’ with someone else. And that the someone else bore no resemblance to his former girlfriend, who outwardly at least was as staid as Summer was startling.

Summer herself giggled at Roisin’s question and confirmed that she was indeed named after the season, although she’d originally been called Sarah.

‘Like Carl’s mum,’ she added, giggling again. ‘So just as well I changed it for career purposes.’

‘And that career is?’ Steffie was finding it hard to believe that this girl was Bernice’s replacement. It was as though Carl had deliberately sought out the polar opposite of the woman he’d lived with for nearly a decade.

‘I’m a model,’ said Summer, a reply that made Roisin immediately determined to keep her well away from Daisy. ‘Thanks for inviting me,’ she added. ‘I’m really looking forward to the party.’

Roisin didn’t say that the invitation had gone to Carl and Bernice, and that it hadn’t made any mention of substitute girlfriends. Steffie, seeing that her aunt’s eyes were hard and flinty, guessed that Sarah hadn’t known there’d be a substitute either. When she’d last spoken to her a month or so earlier, Sarah had been mentally planning Carl and Bernice’s wedding.

‘What would you like to drink?’ she asked her now.

‘Gin and tonic,’ replied Sarah. ‘Make it a double.’

‘And you?’ Steffie looked at Summer.

‘A mojito would be nice.’

‘I don’t actually know how to make mojitos,’ Steffie confessed. ‘I know it’s rum and mint leaves, but …’

‘If you have the ingredients, I can do it myself.’ Summer beamed at her. ‘I’m good at mojitos. And daiquiris. Cocktails generally.’

‘Um, OK then, as you’re the expert …’ Steffie led the way into the kitchen, the other girl following her.

Meanwhile Roisin looked quizzically at her aunt and cousin.

‘I said he shouldn’t bring her,’ Sarah told her. ‘I said it was very bad manners.’

‘Oh, chill out, Mum,’ said Carl. ‘It’s a party.’

‘It’s fine, Aunt Sarah,’ said Roisin, although inside she agreed totally with her aunt. In her view Carl shouldn’t have brought anyone other than Bernice. And certainly not this … well … the girl might call herself a model, but given the way that she was bursting out of that dress, the word ‘glamour’ should clearly have been put in front of it. There was no way Summer would be gracing the catwalk, not with those boobs. Page 3 was another story altogether. However, Roisin didn’t want to start off the party by arguing with the first guests, so she simply turned to Carl and asked him what he was going to have to drink.

‘I’d love a beer,’ said Carl.

‘We have a cooler over here.’

She led him to the other end of the veranda, where she took a can of beer from the large tub of ice in the shadiest corner and handed it to him.

‘Don’t go all judgemental on me, Ro,’ he said as he pulled the tab.

‘Judgemental? Me?’

He laughed. ‘Come on. It’s written all over your face. You’re looking at Summer and you’re thinking that she’s a total ditz and you’re horrified to have her here.’

‘I’m thinking that it would’ve been nice to know in advance she was coming,’ Roisin told him.

‘Sorry about that. I didn’t know myself until yesterday.’

‘Carl!’

‘I asked her and she said yes.’

‘How long have you known her?’

‘Not long. But I’m having a good time with her. She’s fun to be with.’

‘And Bernice wasn’t?’

Carl’s eyes darkened. ‘Fun and Bernice don’t even belong in the same sentence.’

‘I know it’s none of my business—’

‘You’re right, Roisin, it’s not,’ said Carl.

‘It’s just that you and Bernice were together a long time. And we all loved her.’

‘I think the more pertinent question there is whether she and I loved each other.’

Roisin was momentarily abashed, then she looked him straight in the eye. ‘You’re supposed to be on a break,’ she reminded him. ‘That implies that you still love each other but that you’re working through some issues. I’m not entirely convinced that working through them with Miss Bubblegum there is the way forward.’

‘Fortunately it’s not up to you,’ said Carl. ‘And Summer’s a lovely girl, so don’t start dissing her in front of me.’

‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘How old is she?’

‘Twenty-two,’ said Carl.

‘Are you sure you’re not having a mid-life crisis?’

‘If I am, I’m loving it,’ said Carl and walked back to the centre of the veranda, where Davey and Camilla had just arrived.

Steffie was still in the kitchen watching Summer mix her mojito when she heard a squeal of delight from Roisin and the sound of her brother’s voice. She hurried outside and flung herself at Davey, laughing as he gave her a massive bear hug. As he introduced them to Camilla, Steffie and Roisin exchanged awed glances. She was as sophisticated as Summer was brash and as reserved as the other girl was outgoing. And although she also had blond hair in an updo, hers was sleek and smooth – and, Steffie thought, fighting back the uncharitable thought, the colour was natural. Camilla wore a figure-hugging print dress and elegant strappy sandals. She was even more staggeringly beautiful than her Facebook photos.

‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ Roisin was immediately regretting that she’d decided to wear a pair of flat sandals herself. She’d chosen them because she thought they’d be good for a day when she’d be mostly on her feet, and they were very pretty, with blue and white sequins and a large silver buckle, but they meant that Camilla was towering over her. In fact all of the women were. She was used to it with Steffie, but now Summer had returned to the veranda, mojito in hand, and was standing on the other side of her, making her feel like the short straw in a pack. Dammit, she thought. When I was a full-time working woman I didn’t dress for comfort. As soon as I get back to Dublin, I’m going shopping. Although, she conceded, it was a long time since she’d shopped for style rather than comfort.

Steffie wasn’t quite as intimidated as her sister, because even in kitten heels she was taller than Summer and able to look Camilla in the eye. But she could see that Camilla’s dress and jewellery were quietly expensive and not the cheap and cheerful stuff that she was wearing herself. (She hadn’t figured out if Summer’s sundress was designer or not. Either way, there wasn’t much of it to assess.) She shook hands with Camilla and asked her what she’d like to drink, and when Camilla said that Summer’s mojito looked nice, she turned to Carl’s girlfriend and asked her if she’d mind taking over bar duties again.

‘Love to.’ Summer caught the startled Camilla by the hand and pulled her towards the kitchen so that she could watch her drink being made.

‘There’s beer in the cooler,’ Carl told his cousin. ‘I reckon that’s more your tipple than a cocktail.’

‘Lead me to it.’ Davey ambled towards the far end of the veranda, followed by Steffie.

‘Heavens, Davey,’ she murmured as he grabbed a can. ‘You’re punching above your weight with that girl.’

‘You cheeky thing.’ He made an amused face at her. ‘She’s lucky to have me.’

‘Well, of course,’ Steffie agreed with a smile. ‘But you’ve got to admit she’s a stunner.’

This time Davey laughed. ‘She’s more than that. She’s a vice president of the company she works for, is paid way more than me and is ferociously intelligent.’

‘As well as being a babe? Then you’re definitely punching above your weight.’ Steffie laughed too.

‘Actually,’ said Davey quietly, ‘I agree with you. I have to keep pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. She’s great, she really is.’

‘You sound sort of serious there,’ said Steffie.

‘Could be.’

She opened her eyes wide. ‘Something more permanent on the cards?’

‘I’m thinking that way.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Don’t say anything!’ Davey glanced to where Roisin, Carl and Sarah were standing. ‘It’s not … I haven’t …’

‘My lips are sealed,’ she promised him. ‘But it’s very exciting, Davey.’

They both looked towards Summer and Camilla, who’d walked outside again with their drinks.

‘Before we rejoin the others,’ Davey said, ‘whose idea was it to hire the cocktail waitress?’

The doorbell was beginning to ring more regularly as the garden filled up with friends and relatives. Summer’s mojito was proving very popular and she continued to make them good-naturedly for anyone who asked.

‘We’ll run out of mint soon,’ Roisin muttered to Steffie.

‘Not before we run out of rum,’ Steffie replied.

‘I should have thought of cocktails.’ Roisin looked annoyed. ‘But I assumed everyone would be on beer or wine.’

‘Hopefully the sparkling rosé will distract them,’ said Steffie. ‘Or Summer might get fed up mixing them.’

‘Oh look! Lucinda and Alivia are here.’ Roisin was distracted by the arrival of her mother’s youngest sister and her daughter.

‘About time,’ said Steffie as she waved at them, and then added an ‘oops’ when she realised that Lucinda was wearing an almost identical floral dress to Sarah.

‘Oops indeed,’ said Alivia as she kissed Steffie in greeting. The two girls had always been friendly, although most of their contact was through social media these days, as Alivia and her mother lived in Galway. ‘Mum thinks she’s the youngest, hippest of the three of them. She’s not going to be impressed at being in the same dress as Aunt Sarah.’

‘How in God’s name did they manage that?’ Roisin muttered under her breath. ‘They live two hundred kilometres apart, for heaven’s sake.’ She was becoming increasingly irritated by things she could do nothing about. Her own flat sandals. The arrival of Summer. The popularity of the mojitos. And now her aunts’ fashion faux pas. Unforeseen events when she’d tried so hard to anticipate everything about the day. Hopefully, she thought, everything else is under control. And indeed there was nothing else to surprise or annoy her as the remainder of the guests turned up, including Mr and Mrs Kinsella (who checked to see that her flower arrangement was looking fresh and vibrant) and finally Roisin’s own family. Paul said he’d passed Jenny and Pascal on the road and he reckoned they were about twenty minutes behind them.

‘OK, everyone!’ cried Roisin. ‘They’ll be here soon.’ She told Daisy and Poppy to stand at the front window and watch out for their grandparents. They were to let her know the instant they turned into the driveway so that everyone would be ready to surprise them. The other younger children insisted on joining them, so that in the end, there was a small crowd on the lookout.

‘What about the boyfriend you’re taking it easy with?’ Roisin turned to Steffie. ‘Is he coming?’

‘Oh, he called earlier,’ Steffie replied. ‘He’s working and can’t make it.’

‘Hmm,’ said Roisin.

Steffie glanced at her, but her sister’s face was neutral. She walked into the kitchen, but Carl and Summer were in there together, foreheads touching, and she beat a hasty retreat, thinking dark thoughts about her sister, her boyfriend and her cousin in equal measure.

Then Daisy cried out that Grandad and Granny’s car was at the gate. There was a flurry of movement as everyone tried to take up position out of sight on the veranda and Roisin told them all to be very quiet and not make a sound.