Mother of the Bride (10 page)

He was a good dancer, with a great sense of rhythm, and she found she enjoyed dancing with him as they moved together to the soul set the DJ was playing. Tara gave her a wink, and Jess blushed as she felt Liam's arms pull her even closer. The music slowed. This was heaven. An hour later they had sought refuge on a long brown leather couch, Jess dizzy as Liam caressed and kissed her. Amy and
Dan seemed to have disappeared, and Jeremy confirmed that they had got a taxi home about fifteen minutes earlier.

‘I'll bring you home,' offered Liam, as his lips reached for hers again.

Twenty minutes later, they too were in a taxi, and Jess found herself inviting him into her little cottage near the canal.

‘Hey, nice place,' he said, pulling her on to the couch after they'd opened some chilled Coronas she had in the fridge and she had flicked on the gas fire.

In a haze Jess felt Liam's hand run up under her top. His fingers lifted her bra and cupped her breasts, and she moaned as he began to touch her nipples. She didn't want this to stop, and eagerly helped to tug off his shirt. She kissed him, starting at the top and working her way down to where he wanted. The two of them laughed and touched and kissed as they made love frantically in front of the fire. The next time was slower and was in Jess's bed, with her purring with satisfaction as Liam pulled her on top of him.

She woke at 4 a.m., confused, and thought that she was dreaming or hallucinating. Seeing Liam's long, unshaven, handsome face asleep on the pillow beside her, his body against hers, she didn't know whether to pray for this male apparition to go away or for it to stay.

At eight o'clock she realized that she had definitely not been dreaming, as Liam Flynn lay stretched out beside her, snoring heavily. She felt rough, and longed to hide under the duvet and stay there for the day. To wake her bedmate up and get him to repeat last night's performance, this time with the sun streaming in the bedroom window and the gentle sound of the canal outside and the two of them cold sober.

But she had fecking work! Twenty-seven kids were waiting for her. Bernadette Carroll, the school principal, would have her guts for garters if she pulled a sickie and didn't show up. A temporary
teacher would have to be assigned to her class, and the department informed. It was all so complicated compared to people who worked in offices and could pull sickies all over the place. She'd never be in on time with the traffic and everything. She'd phone Bernadette to say she wasn't feeling her best but would struggle in anyway – it was near enough to the truth, and she got out of bed and searched for her phone.

‘Get up! Get up!' she yelled at Liam, as she pulled on her clothes after a scalding hot shower, and clipped her hair up. ‘I have to go to work.'

Liam worked as an accountant in the same big firm on Harcourt Street as Dan. They were in different departments, and Liam had told her that he specialized in funds, whatever that involved.

‘Hey, Jess.' He yawned, patting the bed beside him.

‘Liam, I have to go to work,' she shouted. ‘You have to get up!'

‘Nah.' He groaned. ‘Come on, Jess. You're lovely. It was lovely.'

‘Are you listening, Liam? I have to go,' she said, grabbing her handbag and her jacket and car keys.

He sat up, all rumpled and unshaven; his eyes were bleary and dazed as he looked at her. ‘You're going?'

‘Sorry, but I have to,' she said, wishing that she was an uncaring self-centred wagon like Cathy Ryan, the fourth-class teacher, who was rumoured to have been so badly hungover last Friday in school that she had fallen asleep at her desk.

‘I have a class and I have to be there.'

He scratched his chin. God, he looked rough! Handsome still, but certainly rough! She gave him the opportunity to say something, anything, about the situation they were in. Instead he grabbed the quilt and rolled over on his side as she stood watching him.

‘Liam, let yourself out, and when you leave just pull the front door behind you,' she said, as if she was talking to Oisin O'Brien, one of the troublesome kids in her class.

Out on the doorstep tears pricked her eyes. She hadn't been with a guy for years, and then it had to go and be Liam Flynn. He'd said she was lovely. That it had been lovely. What did it mean?

At lunchtime she texted him, saying: ‘
Thanks. Jess
.'

She checked and rechecked her messages but there was nothing in reply. At home that evening she searched the bedroom and the kitchen and the sitting room to see if he had left a note.

Nothing. She sat down and, pretending to watch the TV, tried to make sense of what had happened. OK, she had drunk far too much and ended up with a man she fancied. He had drunk far too much and ended up with her!

Amy phoned her, all excited, thanking her for coming along. ‘It was a great night!' She laughed. ‘Dan got pretty bombed, so I took him home and put him to bed.'

‘I went home a while after you,' Jess said, trying to downplay what had happened.

‘I believe Liam was pretty bad, and ended up in some girl's bed. He's such a scuzz bag,' confided Amy. ‘Imagine: he'd only broken up with Hazel a few days before, you know, but that didn't stop him!'

Jess, mortified, took a sharp intake of breath.

Feck Liam Flynn! Feck him! she thought. He might be Dan's best friend but Amy was right: he was an utter scuzz bag.

Amy watched drowsily from the bed as Dan in his Santa boxers surfed on their bedroom carpet, testing out his Christmas present. She'd known that he'd love the Dakota surfboard, and felt the warm glow of satisfaction that comes from buying the perfect present. Dan, in turn, had bought her the most divine pair of black leather boots, a new Synan O'Mahoney dress and an iPod loaded with some of her favourite songs. Her old one had fallen down the loo in Café en Seine about two weeks ago when she was out having drinks with her office crew. Listening to the familiar tone of Glen Hansard singing ‘Revelate' put a smile on her face as she looked at Dan's tall lean body and happy face and knew that he was perfect. They were perfect together, and this time next year they would be married and Christmas would be even better.

‘Amy, surf's up!' yelled Dan, flinging himself on to the bed and on top of her as they collapsed together, laughing.

‘Amy, do you want to shower first?' he offered. ‘I'm going to watch
The Snowman
.'

‘Sure,' she smiled, ‘but we'd better get a move on or we'll be late.'

It was such a temptation on Christmas Day to stay snuggled in bed
or on a couch together, watching TV all day long, but she was due at her parents' in less than an hour. Dan would drop her off and come in and have a quick drink and say hello to her immediate family and her gran and her uncle and aunt and cousins before disappearing to his folks. Tomorrow she would call over to see his parents and have dinner there. It was a pain having to be in separate houses, but they were both trying to keep their families happy; which meant, bizarrely, they couldn't be together. Next Christmas, when they were married, Dan would come to the O'Connors and then the following one she would go to the Quinns. It was already sorted.

Splashing on some of the new Jo Malone scent that Norah had given her for Christmas, Amy pulled on her beautiful new boots. She finished dressing and checked her make-up as Dan sang ‘Walking in the Air' in the bathroom. Amy loved the red fitted dress that she had found in a small boutique in Belfast a few weeks ago, when she had gone north to do a bit of Christmas shopping. She pulled a soft black cashmere shrug over it. Then, after checking that she had all the presents for everyone, she grabbed her weekend bag, and she and Dan left the apartment.

‘Happy Christmas!' greeted her mum when they arrived. She hugged them. ‘You both look wonderful!'

The house was like a furnace, with a huge fire blazing, and Amy slipped her presents under the Christmas tree. It was massive as usual, taking up about a quarter of the space in their living room. The air was filled with the delicious smell of roasting turkey, and she realized that she was actually starving. Her dad pressed a drink into Dan's hands despite his protests, as Amy, boiling, slipped off her woollen shrug. Gran was already on the sherry, and Fran and Tom were enjoying a glass of Buck's Fizz.

‘I'll have one of those, too, please, Dad,' smiled Amy.

‘I'm not cooking.' Fran laughed. ‘Katie and Brian want to show off their new house and kitchen, and have invited us all there. So
no bloody stuffing the turkey or washing a ton of spuds this year! It's my first Christmas off in twenty-five years and I plan to enjoy it.'

Ronan was sitting at his laptop Skyping Krista, who had returned to Krakow to see her family. He was going over to join her for New Year.

‘He's got it bad,' whispered Ciara, who looked amazing in a figure hugging black leather skirt and a black top, her green eyes sparkling as she showed Amy the incredible silver and emerald-colour earrings that Santa had left for her.

Amy's Uncle Tim and Aunt Linda and their four children had arrived only a few minutes ahead of herself and Dan, and Linda wanted to know all about their wedding plans.

‘Hey, I'd better go,' apologized Dan. ‘We eat a bit earlier at our place, and you know what Mum's like.'

Amy knew well that Carmel Quinn would freak out if Dan delayed them sitting down. Taking another glass of champagne, she suspected it would be hours before the O'Connors sat down, as her mum was leaving the turkey to its own devices in a slow oven. She was deep in conversation with Fran. Meanwhile, Amy's dad and Tom Brennan were debating the merits of wind power versus sea power with Uncle Tim.

‘Say goodbye to my gran before you leave,' Amy whispered to Dan.

Sheila Hennessy, wearing a bright red Christmas cardigan and new white blouse, began to tell Dan all about when she was a child on the farm in Longford where she grew up, and how they got ready for Christmas.

‘We started fattening the pig in March . . .'

‘Sheila, I have to go,' Dan pleaded, as Amy stepped in to rescue him.

‘She tells us all the details about fattening the pig and the turkey and the goose every Christmas.' Amy laughed as they said their
goodbyes at the front door. ‘Is it any wonder that Ciara has turned vegetarian!'

‘Next year it will be different,' he promised, giving her a kiss. ‘We'll be married.'

Jess Kilroy's New Year's resolution was to get fit and healthy and be happy. She had exactly twenty-two weeks to go before she was a bridesmaid at Amy's wedding, and she had set herself a realistic weight-loss goal and was determined to reach her target.

Amy had asked her to come looking for her wedding dress, and Jess knew that once Amy found her own outfit her attention would immediately turn to getting the bridesmaids' dresses, something she was dreading.

Christmas had been lovely, but a calorie disaster! Why her family had each given her a large chocolate selection box was beyond her! Grainne Kilroy, her mother, was far too good a cook, and got insulted if you refused second helpings of anything at her table. She had slaved for weeks making Christmas puddings, pies and a cake, and Jess found it hard to resist the traditional treats. Then there was the constant round of drinks parties and family meals, and there was only so much Ballygowan water a person could drink without spending much of the night in the bathroom.

Her sister Deirdre had announced she was pregnant again, which had thrown her other sister, Ava, into hysterics on Christmas Day as she and her husband Finn had been trying to have a baby for years
and were going to have another round of IVF. Jess's dad had sloped over to the neighbours to get away from it all.

She had bumped into Liam Flynn with a crowd out in Kehoe's pub on South Anne Street on Christmas Eve. He'd been drinking in the pub since lunchtime and had been polite, kissing her and wishing her Merry Christmas, chatting to her for a few minutes before rejoining his friends. He made no mention of seeing her again or asking her out. She hadn't meant to spy on him, but later on could see him engrossed in chatting up a small blonde who was all over him.

Feck him! she thought angrily.

Amy and Dan and the crowd were going away for the New Year to Donegal.

‘Go on, Jess, come away, too,' begged Amy. ‘It's all organized and we've booked three cottages in Bundoran, and there's plenty of space. It'll be fun, a great laugh, and you know nearly everyone going.'

Liam Flynn was going, and although Jess was sorely tempted to take Amy up on her offer the thought of the sheer hell and embarrassment of spending a few days around him was too much. Anyhow, New Year was usually totally overrated, and she decided to forsake driving to Donegal, and opted to ring in the New Year babysitting for her sister Deirdre instead.

At midnight, sitting alone in her sister's house in Castleknock watching TV with a glass of wine, a single packet of Tayto, and two-year-old Adam asleep on her lap, she hoped that this year would be a very good one!

Amy stood on the beach watching Dan and Liam and Bren and Dan's best surfing buddy, Conor, out on their boards. Dan was testing out his new surfboard with a triumphant hundred-and-fifty-metre ride on the reef break. The winds were gusting, and the waves high, and running so fast that the excitement was electric. Amy fought to catch her breath as she jumped up and down in her wetsuit cheering and filming Dan with her mini-cam. She had been out in the surf a few times herself, letting the waves catch her as she fought to keep her balance and not panic. She'd had a few spills but had got back up again. Now she was tired and ready to chill out in front of the big fire they had lit in the cottage overlooking the beach.

The weather was bloody freezing, and they must have been mad to have decided to come to Bundoran for New Year, where the chill winds of winter blew in from the Atlantic and gusted along the coast.