The Hat Shop on the Corner (31 page)

‘Oh, it’s absolutely gorgeous!’ Constance smiled, angling herself to the mirror to study the hat from every side. ‘It’s exactly what I wanted for the wedding.’

Ellie was relieved that the client was so satisfied with her work.

‘Thank you so much,’ said the older woman. ‘I’ll go off and have a cup of tea to celebrate.’

‘Have one here with me instead,’ suggested Ellie. ‘I’m just about to make one anyway.’

‘Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?’

‘The kettle is always on the go in this place. It’s one of the essential tools of the millinery trade,’ she admitted. ‘I have a steamer but I still find the kettle is great for steam and heat to shape and stretch the materials, and I get to enjoy a cup of tea as well.’

‘This is lovely,’ said Constance admiringly as she added a little milk and sugar to the pretty blue china cups that Ellie had invested in. ‘You are very like your mother, but I’m sure everyone tells you that.’

‘Yes,’ grinned Ellie, who was realizing day by day how much her mother had influenced her and encouraged her in certain traditions and in ways of appreciating the finer things of life. They had never been hugely wealthy but she seemed to remember always using good china and her mother creating a world of finesse and charm around them. Madeleine Matthews had a style of her own, which shaped her designs, the business, what she wore and how she decorated their home. Everything she collected or touched seemed to radiate that sense of who she was right up to the time she died.

‘You have created a little oasis here, right in the centre of the city. Such style and tranquillity amongst the hustle and bustle.’

‘I’m glad you like it. At first I was very nervous about doing up the shop,’ Ellie admitted. ‘I suppose getting rid of some of my mother’s things was difficult. But the shop needed a fresh look, a new beginning.’

‘Well, you have succeeded wonderfully, though it must be difficult taking those first steps and moving forward,’ mused Constance. ‘I find it such a hard thing to do.’

‘Are you all right, Mrs O’Kelly?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. It’s just with Sally’s wedding – it’s all so awkward. My husband and I are getting a divorce, you know. It hasn’t been pleasant, to say the least, and the pressure of the church and the wedding – I just don’t know how I’ll cope. He even wants to bring her to the wedding.’

‘Her?’

‘His new girlfriend!’

‘Oh,’ responded Ellie, feeling immediate sympathy for the middle-aged woman with her sad eyes. ‘Well, with that outfit and the hat you will look divine, I promise.’

‘It’s just so hard being on your own,’ admitted Constance, fiddling with her spoon and cup. ‘I know it sounds stupid but this is the first time I’ve ever lived on my own. There was always Shay and the children. Of course they’re grown up now and he’s gone to live with someone else.’

‘It must be hard for you,’ said Ellie gently. ‘My mother was also alone.’

‘Was she widowed?’

‘No. My father left when I was very young, in fact I barely remember him. But she was a wonderful mother and made everything we did together fun and magic!’

‘All the lonely people,’ sighed Constance.

‘My mother was lucky. She had this shop, her business.’

‘That’s what my children tell me,’ confided Constance, ‘that I should go and do something, study, get a job. The trouble is, I don’t know what.’

‘My mother always believed that opportunity appeared when you least expected it,’ offered Ellie, clearing away the tea things.

Constance O’Kelly got out her Visa card and paid, delighted with her purchase. The young milliner placed her hat carefully in the pretty striped hatbox.

Ellie Matthews was pleased to see that she had made another customer happy. It always did her heart good to know that she was making the right hat for the right person, and that a simple thing like creating a piece of millinery could bring so much joy to both the maker and the wearer.

Constance O’Kelly slipped out into the garden in her dressing gown to enjoy the early morning peace. She sat under the lilac tree with her tea and toast, while her children slept in their beds.

Today was the big day. Sally’s wedding to Chris Donnelly, the man she loved. She couldn’t have asked for a nicer son-in-law and she knew that he would make her daughter very happy. The years had slipped by so fast since Sally was a little girl playing on the swing in the garden to her becoming a bride. Her youngest, Jack, had returned from New Zealand three days ago with a bushy blond beard, tanned and healthy, his backpack of dirty washing flung in the hall.

‘You’re all bronzed and blond and rugged,’ she said, showering him with welcome kisses and feeling the muscles on his arms and shoulders, ‘and I think you have got even taller!’

‘And look at you, Mum! You’re pretty blond and neat yourself. You look like you’ve dropped a stone or two at least!’

Constance had blushed and laughed.

‘Eating isn’t as much fun when you’re cooking for one, and I guess I walk a lot more just to get out of the house.’

‘Well, it shows. You look great.’

She didn’t look great but she supposed she looked a whole lot better than the last time he’d seen her. She had been a hollow shell then, distraught and overwhelmed by all that was happening to her, often suspecting that this, more than his father’s disloyalty, was what had driven him away to travel and work in New Zealand.

It was wonderful to have her youngest son with his laughter and good humour home again. Brendan and Miriam had also stayed the night, little Max charging round the house like a tank. She was glad of Brendan’s support and for his foresight in realizing that she would appreciate her eldest son being there now that Shay had gone. She had offered to take everyone out for supper to a restaurant but they’d refused and insisted on a barbecue on the patio with cold beers and sausages and hamburgers and chicken kebabs, baked potatoes and salad instead. Sitting there in her jeans and T-shirt, she had realized that all being together round the old garden table, surrounded by her tubs and pots of summer flowers, was the nicest possible way to celebrate Sally’s last night as her single daughter. Max had flitted round the flowers like a honey bee and collapsed exhausted after his meal, Brendan carrying him upstairs to bed in his shorts. The rest of them had sat out under the stars and chatted till long after midnight.

Constance had slept for a few hours only; the combination of emotion and nervousness about seeing Shay and Anne-Marie in the church together had woken her.

‘She is not sitting at the top table,’ Sally had promised. ‘That’s for you and Dad and Chris’s parents. Anne-Marie is seated at a table nearer the back with Leo and Grace and a few of the cousins.’

‘Didn’t your father object?’ asked Constance, curious.

‘Of course, but I told him take it or leave it. She is at the wedding, which is what he wanted. Chris and I have the final say about the tables and who sits where – even bloody Dad knows that!’

‘Good!’ she laughed.

‘I told him my two brothers were itching to walk me up the aisle,’ joked Sally. ‘Anyway Anne-Marie is sitting beside Sheila and that boyfriend of hers.’

Constance knew that Sally and Chris had done their utmost to persuade Shay to leave his girlfriend at home but her husband had dug his heels in, determined to flaunt his new relationship in front of all their family and friends. She just had to accept it and avoid contact with either of them as far as possible, which, given the day, was going to prove pretty difficult.

She pulled in a deep breath and said a silent prayer for the courage and wisdom to get through the day.

The morning passed in a whirlwind of crazy things to do. Immediately after breakfast and showers, herself and Sally and Miriam went to the hairdresser’s in Blackrock for a wash and blow dry and a manicure. Constance blinked when she saw herself in the mirror, her hair shining and glossy, clipped shorter. The beige and blond highlights had given her skin and face a new definition and softness. Sally looked stunning, her blond hair coiled loosely back with the clips that would hold her veil and headdress. Miriam, open-mouthed, was staring at her polished pink nails.

‘I haven’t seen my hands look this good since Max was born,’ she admitted wistfully.

Afterwards they collected the bridal bouquets, checking everything was right before Alice, their florist, headed up to the church to do the arrangements there.

Arriving home, they discovered that Max had emptied a box of cornflakes all over the kitchen and hall floor, unbeknown to his father and uncle, who were drinking coffee and engrossed in a rerun of
The Rockford Files
on the TV.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ apologized Miriam, scooping her son into her arms. ‘I’ll hoover it up!’

‘No,’ laughed Constance, ‘I’ll do it. You’ve got to keep those nails perfect.’

Truth to tell, it felt good to have a small child running round the house again doing mischief and messing things up a bit. Last night with all the bedrooms full she could almost feel the heartbeat of the house return, regular and strong like it used to be when she was busy raising a family. Poor house! Stuck instead with a lone, angry middle-aged woman. She cleaned up and promised herself to show Max how to make chocolate cornflake hedgehogs once he was old enough.

Everyone helped themselves to the mushroom risotto with Parmesan and salad before they all got changed for going to church. Emma and Suzie, the bridesmaids, had joined them. Constance was conscious of the minutes and seconds ticking away as Sally and the girls went upstairs to change.

‘Constance, are you all right?’ asked Miriam softly.

She nodded dumbly, trying not to show the emotional turmoil she was feeling at Shay’s absence and the stress of seeing him with another woman in the church.

‘Brendan and Jack and I are all here,’ promised her daughter-in-law. ‘Everything is going to work out fine.’

‘I know. It’s just me being foolish.’

She could hear the girls joking and laughing upstairs in the big back bedroom, sounding just like they did when they played with their Barbie dolls, or were dressing up to go to discos. Where had the time gone?

Jack was squeezing himself into his tuxedo, which made him look even more handsome now that he had agreed to trim his beard and long hair for the sake of his sister’s wedding photographs.

‘I don’t want people asking in the future, “Who is that wild man from Borneo at your wedding?” ’ teased Sally.

‘Mum, have you seen my silver cufflinks?’

‘Try the top drawer!’

Miriam and Brendan were having a bit of a struggle to get Max into his little waistcoat and trousers and bow tie.

‘It’s just like Daddy’s,’ pleaded Miriam as Max tried to turn his tie into a helicopter and flung it across the bedroom.

Constance stepped into Sally’s room, where Emma was intent on fastening the tiny buttons and hooks up the back of the bride’s fitted corset. Sally’s face was all aglow.

‘You look absolutely beautiful, pet,’ she said, hugging her daughter close. ‘The dress, your hair, make-up, everything is perfect.’

‘I kept it light and natural-looking,’ said Sylvia, the makeup girl, who had come to give them all a hand. ‘When I’m finished with the bridesmaids in a few minutes, Constance, I’ll be in to do you.’

She was about to demur, but remembered that today needed more than just her usual dash of foundation and some lipstick. Sally and the girls had insisted on the professional touch.

‘That would be lovely,’ she beamed.

Though nervous, Sally was on an excited high as she twirled round and showed off her dress and train. Marcus Foley had served her well, the design perfectly complementing her figure and long neck and cascading to the floor in a tumble of magnificent Irish lace.

‘Sally, you look so beautiful,’ Constance said, trying not to cry. ‘You are the most beautiful bride ever.’

Emma, a nurse, passed her a tissue from the box on the bedside locker, and gently rubbed her shoulder, even off-duty her caring skills evident. The girls looked wonderful in their co-ordinating deep rose and dusky pink bridesmaid dresses, the colours picked up in the simple beribboned floral sprays in their hair.

‘Everything’s going to be fine, Mum,’ smiled Sally. ‘Promise.’

Looking in the long bedroom mirror, Constance could see that Sylvia had worked a transformation, subtly highlighting and shadowing the contours of her face and finishing it off with a glow of bronzer.

‘You’re sure I’m not too old for it?’ she asked anxiously.

Her eyes looked huge and wide courtesy of eyeliner, a blend of eyeshadows, and two coats of a mascara that made her eyelashes fuller and longer than they had ever been.

‘Dad’s going to be here in the bridal car in a few minutes,’ Brendan shouted up to her.

She could feel the panic rise in her, for she had no intention of seeing her ex-husband until she got to the church. She felt good in her outfit and the colour seemed to bring out the honey tan she had developed in the garden. She slipped on her shoes and took a deep breath as she lifted the lid of the hatbox and carefully fitted the most delicious swirls of jade green and cinnamon on to her head. The hat immediately gave her height and the sense of poise and style that only wearing an individual creation could generate. She loved it. Spinning round in her new finery, she suddenly felt confident and composed. Nothing was going to spoil today.