The Hat Shop on the Corner (39 page)

Constance carefully replaced her beautiful wedding hat in its protective striped hatbox. It would always remind her of that perfect September day. The wedding, the house full of her children and grandchildren instead of the empty shell it had now become. Everything was so still and quiet. Although she could hear the radio going in the kitchen and the clock ticking in the hall, the house was silent, as if waiting for something. Waiting for flesh and blood, children and mess and noise and laughter and loving to fill it again. Her breath caught in her throat – for she could never again provide these things. She wanted to cry for all that had passed, slipped through her fingers like sand, babies, toddlers, teenagers now all grown and gone, getting on with their own lives while she sat in empty rooms surrounded by old toys and books and mementos.

Helen and Sally and the boys and even Shay were right. Things couldn’t continue like this. She had to let go of the past and begin to move forward, create a new life of her own, let this house live and breathe again and be what it was meant to be. A family home!

Sally had persuaded her to consider going to Cyprus with them for Christmas. Chris’s parents had insisted that she would be more than welcome. Her lecturer, Don Sullivan from Trinity, had said that it would be very useful as the museums in Cyprus held some of the finest examples of early Greek and Roman art to be found.

On her morning walk around the neighbourhood she had discovered someone was building ten two-bedroomed duplexes on a site just off Seapoint Avenue. They were compact and easy to keep, with balconies and a sea view. When Helen and herself had gone to view them, Constance had been surprised by the light and the magnificent sweep of Dublin Bay that would greet the occupants every hour of the day. The kitchen, small and neat and full of every mod con, was divided from the living space by an island so that even the cook could watch the boats sail up and down the shore. The gas fire lit with the touch of a button, and the duplex was altogether more appealing than she would have imagined.

She swallowed hard, put on her glasses and reached for the telephone directory to search for the name. Dialling quickly, her voice shaking, she began to talk to the auctioneer. It was finally time to sell the house and move on.

Ellie Matthews busied herself arranging her new autumn and winter stock: red felt and cosy wool, velvet ribbons and coloured holly berries and silk hand-sewn leaves. The days were already shorter, with a nip in the air and showers of rain that made everyone grab their umbrellas or run for cover.

Molly Ryan had supplied her with bright orange and yellow blooms and some winter-flowering pansies from her stall to decorate the shop and doorway.

Ellie had made a delicious aubergine wool toque with a rim of fur and a gay little spray of winter berries, which she placed on a stand in the centre of the window. She was down on the floor, packing away the remaining autumn stock, when she realized there was a customer in the shop.

‘Hello!’ he called, peering down.

It was Neil Harrington.

Embarrassed, she shoved the boxes out of the way and pulled down her black and white kitten-print skirt, conscious of his staring at her.

‘I like the cats,’ he teased.

‘It reminds me of Minouche.’ She nodded over to the black cat lounging on a cushion on the chair.

‘How have you been keeping?’

‘I’m fine,’ she lied, not admitting she had waited and waited for him to call her and had finally given up, accepting Kim’s advice to try to put him out of her mind, ‘as a pure physical attraction did not a relationship make’.

‘The shop looks great,’ he said, looking around him, ‘and I see that the jeweller’s and the sandwich bar down the street are having a bit of a facelift too, following your good example.’

She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her.

‘Yes, with this new grant available from the council, everyone’s got a bit more confidence in the street. There’s a new kids’ shop opening in December where the old gift shop used to be. It should be lovely.’

‘See what you started?’

‘Mo did it!’ she said firmly.

‘Our mighty Lady Mayor, more power to her.’

‘What about your clients?’ she ventured.

‘Actually, as you can imagine, they are not best pleased. Jerome is not used to not getting his way but he is astute. He’ll still have his galleria and he’ll now accommodate some individual designer shops, which should only add to the street.’

‘Thank heavens.’

‘Anyway, I resigned from dealing with that part of his business a while ago. Felt there was a bit of a conflict of interest. The proper thing to do and all that.’

Ellie hadn’t a clue what he was talking about but she did like it when he was being all lawyerly. She wondered should she offer him a cup of coffee, but then maybe not. Silence hung between them and she wished one of them would say something.

‘Actually, Ellie, the reason I called in was on a matter of personal business,’ he said, looking at her.

‘Personal business? That sounds serious.’

‘Yes, hat business.’

She had to stop herself smiling.

‘I need a hat.’

‘Neil,’ she giggled, ‘if your mother wants to change that hat or get a different one, it’s no problem, honestly. Just tell her to come into the shop. I’ve some lovely stock in for the winter.’

‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘My mother is quite delighted with my purchase of the black one. No, I’m afraid this time I’m the one who needs a hat,’ he said, standing directly in front of her.

Ellie felt uncomfortable. She had never made a man’s hat and wasn’t sure it was an area she wanted to explore.

‘What kind of hat?’ she asked, curious, stepping closer to him.

‘I need a hat for this stupid big head of mine!’ he said.

Ellie began to laugh.

‘I’m not sure that I’d have anything big enough.’

‘And that doesn’t even cover half of it,’ he admitted.

‘Neil, you don’t have to keep buying hats just to talk to me. I’ve been here all the time. You know that!’

‘I know,’ he said softly, staring down at her. ‘I’ve been such a fool, Ellie. Wasted so much time I can’t believe it. I’ve never ever met anyone like you.’

She held her breath.

‘I know we got off to a bad start but from the minute I saw you at the door of this shop I knew you were the one I wanted. I’m crazy about you.’

Pushing Minouche off the chair he sat down slap bang in front of her. Ellie couldn’t believe it: Neil Harrington looking at her like that, making her heart lurch and her pulse race.

‘I think I might need to measure you,’ she said softly, realizing just how much she wanted to touch him, run her fingers through his dark hair. He pulled her on to his lap and kissed her. This time, unrestrained, she kissed him back, totally forgetting about customers and the window and the busy street outside.

A long time later, she touched her burning cheeks, Neil teasing her as she fixed her skirt and tried to tidy her hair.

‘About Paris!’

She blushed. She thought he’d forgotten all her drunken ramblings.

‘Are you going with him?’ he said, suddenly serious.

‘Him?’

‘The guy in black with the yellow roses.’

‘But there is no him.’ She explained about breaking up with Rory, unbelieving when he told her that he’d seen them together.

‘I thought you two might be a pair,’ he said slowly, searching her face.

‘No. There’s no one,’ she promised. ‘I’m going to visit my aunt Yvette.’

He reached for his briefcase on the floor. ‘I got you this,’ he said, passing her a parcel. ‘Open it!’

She recognized the wrapping paper: it was from the art and print shop down the road. Nervously she pulled it open and lifted the framed print from the bubble wrap. It was an old illustrated print, a map of Paris, featuring a squiggly drawing of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, les Invalides, the Seine.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said, reaching up to thank him with a kiss.

‘That’s where I want to take you,’ he said, pulling her into his arms and making sure she understood exactly what she could expect.

The rain started again, dripping down off the canopy and spattering on to the flowers below, as Neil Harrington told her that he loved her. Ellie Matthews felt her heart race as she told him what she’d suspected for a very long time – that she loved him too.

Marita Conlon-McKenna
is one of Ireland’s favourite authors and a regular number one bestseller. She is the winner of the prestigious International Reading Association award and is a regular contributor to Radio and TV. She lives in Blackrock, Dublin with her husband and family.

Also by Marita Conlon-McKenna

THE MAGDALEN
PROMISED LAND
MIRACLE WOMAN
THE STONE HOUSE
THE MATCHMAKER
MOTHER OF THE BRIDE
A TASTE FOR LOVE
THREE WOMEN
THE ROSE GARDEN

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THE HAT SHOP ON THE CORNER
A BANTAM BOOK: 9780553817898
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781446437247

Originally published in Great Britain by Bantam Press, a division of Transworld Publishers

PRINTING HISTORY
Bantam Press edition published 2006
Bantam edition published 2007

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Copyright © Marita Conlon-McKenna 2006

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