The Stone House (16 page)

‘Do I look all right, Mammy?'

Moya was trembling as she lightly touched her hair and neck.

‘You look truly beautiful, darling. From the second I first saw you, you've been my darling and you always
will be. No matter how long you are married, you'll still be my little girl.'

Kate blinked away the tears welling in her own eyes.

‘I'm so happy, I don't know why I'm crying,' sniffed Moya.

‘You'll ruin your make-up,' cautioned Romy, flopping onto the bed.

‘It's your wedding day, all brides cry,' said their mother, trying to control her emotions.

‘And all mothers.'

‘And all sisters too!'

‘What the hell's going on in here?' interrupted Frank Dillon coming on the scene. ‘Is everything all right? Moya are you OK? The wedding is going ahead?'

‘Frank, the wedding is most definitely going ahead. It's just it's such a big step.'

‘You look wonderful, pet,' he said, kissing Moya on the cheek. ‘Patrick's a lucky man.' He raised a tumbler of whiskey to his lips.

‘Don't tell me you've been drinking already, Frank. Don't tell me that!'

‘Leave me alone, woman. It's just to steady me, settle my nerves for the church.'

‘I can't believe that you'll be drunk leading your daughter up the aisle.'

‘I've had just a few sips,' he argued, ‘that's all.'

‘Please, Dad, don't fight!' pleaded Moya, looking at the two of them. ‘I couldn't bear it if you and Mammy were to fight today.'

Kate could see her mother's reluctance to climb down and grabbed her father by the arm instead.

‘Come on downstairs, Dad,' she coaxed, ‘and I'll
make you a quick cup of coffee and listen to you practising your speech again before we have to leave for the church.'

The local parish church was packed with the hundred and twenty guests invited to the wedding and a collection of local neighbours and friends curious to see Moya Dillon's wedding. A few of the nuns from their old school were sitting at the back of the church smiling as the family entered.

Romy and Kate had walked up the aisle of the church in their simple champagne-coloured dresses, carrying small posies of white roses and sprays of baby's breath tied in a ribbon. Kate hoped no-one could sense the shaking of her knees and legs. They walked slowly, taking steps in time with the music, coming to stand at the side of the altar where their Uncle Eamonn was waiting. Patrick looked so handsome in a morning suit with his gold-coloured cravat, standing anxiously beside his brother Andrew waiting for his bride.

Moya appeared, breathtakingly beautiful, holding her father's arm as she came up the aisle. Frank Dillon was desperately trying to hold his own emotions in check. Father Eamonn welcomed them warmly as Patrick stepped forward and took her hand.

It was a simple ceremony and as Kate listened to them swear their love for each other she bowed her head in prayer and asked for the grace to be able to accept Patrick as her brother-in-law. She held Moya's bouquet of roses and lilies as her sister signed the register and finally became Mrs Moya Redmond.

A sea of smiling faces and flashing cameras greeted
the happy couple as they paraded down the church and out into the August sunshine where the photographer was waiting to take group photos of them.

‘Wasn't that the loveliest mass ever!' remarked Maeve Dillon to Patrick's mother who was wearing an elegant black two-piece and a wide-brimmed cream hat with a swirling band of black and white around the crown.

‘Having your brother say the mass made it so personal and so special. You must be very pleased, Maeve.'

‘Eamonn wouldn't have missed Moya and Patrick's wedding for the world. He always tries to be here for these family occasions.'

‘Moya's such a stunning bride,' gushed Annabel. ‘I can see how Patrick fell in love with her at first sight.'

‘They make a very handsome couple,' Maeve agreed, watching the two of them smile and pose for photographs, as well-wishers crowded around. ‘I'm sure they will be very happy together.'

Forty minutes later the wedding party arrived back at the house to awaiting glasses of champagne and kir royale. It was very warm as they stood on the lawn sipping their drinks and chatting to everyone, renewing old friendships with cousins and family. Moya's work and college friends looked like a group of models or actors in their designer clothes and high heels and floaty frocks. Moya in the middle of them, giggling and laughing with Patrick at her side, introduced them to the family. Her father as usual asked the age-old question:

‘What do you do?'

‘Are all dads the same?' giggled her best friend Anne-Marie, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big flirty kiss.

The Stone House looked wonderful, basking in the August sunshine, the door and windows re-painted, frothy pink and cream roses tumbling around the doorway and windowsills, every pot and garden urn overflowing with splashes of colour, the large floral borders at their best, bursting with tall blue delphiniums and pink and blue lupins, a riot of colour and scented nicotiania. Everyone had worked so hard at getting the place to look right. There wasn't a blade of grass out of place or a weed growing in the flowerbeds, Maeve had made sure of that.

‘You have a beautiful home, Mrs Dillon,' complimented Jenny Leyden, the girl who worked with Moya in the art gallery.

Minnie and her mother were stomping around the grass in tiny stiletto heels, Minnie wearing a fuchsia-red dress which made her look cute and sexy and had attracted much attention from a few of the single males invited.

‘God, do you think we're related now that Moya and Patrick have married? We're probably some kind of far-off cousins.'

Kate shrugged, though being related to Minnie was bound to be fun.

‘Moya looks amazing but you and Romy look fantastic too.'

After a while the guests and family began to move inside as the caterers were more than ready to serve the meal.

Kate was seated up at the top table beside the best man while Romy was at another table with the groom's man and Patrick's sister Louise and some of their cousins. Father Eamonn said grace before they began to eat.

Wild salmon was served, and carrot soup, roast lamb and potatoes with minted peas and a roast vegetable bake and a melt-in-the-mouth raspberry Pavlova for pudding. Kate could see the tension ease from her mother's face as one course after another was a success, Uncle Eamonn, sitting near her, clearing his plate and enjoying the red wine now that his priestly duties were done.

Her father sat proudly, head high, accepting compliments from Patrick's mother. Glancing over, Kate saw that Moya was about to burst with happiness, her dark eyes sparkling, her mouth wide and smiling, relaxed now the ceremony was over.

Kate found Andrew Redmond easy to talk to: he was very different from his brother and seemed more easy-going and less driven.

‘Are you nervous about the speeches?' she asked.

‘A bit, but I was on the debating team in Blackrock College and still do a bit to keep my hand in with the L & H Soc. so hopefully I should be OK.'

‘Snap! I was on my convent's school team too,' she laughed, ‘and the team in college too.'

‘So we should be able to get a bit of a debate going this end of the table,' he joked.

She told him about her career and work, listening as he talked about the trials of being a final-year medical student. He planned to work in America or Canada for
a year or two after he qualified. ‘Gain a bit of experience then go out and work in Africa or Asia. It's where medicine is really needed.'

‘Will you eventually come back to Ireland?'

‘Who knows!'

They'd finished eating when Andy called on Patrick and Moya to cut the cake, everyone giving them a rousing cheer as they stood up and joined hands holding the knife.

The speeches were great. Her father slowly rose to his feet, the piece of paper with his speech left discreetly on the table in front of him. Kate held her breath as Frank Dillon told everyone just how much he loved his darling eldest daughter and how happy he was that she had met Patrick. Kate blushed crimson when he mentioned that it was through her younger sister they had met, and that Kate should take full credit for bringing the two of them together. She could feel her mouth go dry and her eyes burn as he went on. Why had he made no mention of that to her earlier? He rambled on about their childhood and Moya and all the broken hearts there would be now that the beauty of the family had married. Everyone was upstanding as he toasted the bride and groom. Kate sipped with relief at the glass of champagne as finally with much clapping and applause he sat down, red-faced and sweating as the barman brought the double whiskey he'd ordered earlier.

Patrick's father stood up and with much aplomb warmly welcomed Moya to their family and thanked her for taking on their son.

‘I know that my beautiful new daughter-in-law will
be a great influence on Patrick, and that he in turn will be a good husband to her.'

Andy followed, reading some telegrams and messages of goodwill before embarking on his best man's speech.

‘I am mightily relieved that my brother the Romeo of the Redmond family has finally found his Juliet,' he joked, which brought a loud thumping from the table at the back of the marquee where Patrick's friends were sitting. Then he wondered aloud how the beautiful Moya was going to put up with his brother's bad habits, everyone laughing as he listed them. Moya put on a rueful face, saying she'd put up with them. He ended by thanking Kate and Romy for being such beautiful bridesmaids.

Finally Patrick stood up, his face serious as he thanked their parents for the wonderful meal and reception and everyone for coming along to share in their special day, declaring at the end: ‘I met the girl of my dreams in this house and there was nothing left for me to do but marry her.'

Kate could feel a huge lump in her throat as she remembered that night, trying to compose herself as Moya reached up and kissed him, the whole room breaking into rapturous applause for the happy couple.

ROMY RAN HER
fingers through her tousled hair. Her feet were killing her from dancing in the dainty little shoes her mother and Kate had picked out to go with their dresses. Larry, the groom's man, had asked her up to dance as soon as the floor began to fill up. A conceited young barrister, he'd managed to bore her all through the meal with his talk of law courts, barely bothering to ask her what she was doing. She had no intention of letting him monopolize her for the rest of the night and dumped him as soon as she could, watching as some of Moya's single girlfriends flapped around him. They were more than welcome! She wriggled her toes trying to get the circulation going as Fergus signalled her to get up again.

Aunt Vonnie was smooching with Uncle Joe on the big wooden dance floor as if they were teenage lovers and Uncle Eamonn was dancing with Mrs Redmond like they were in a ballroom dancing competition. She supposed priests didn't know a lot about dancing or get much practice. Her mam and dad had already
made eejits of themselves dancing earlier on to some old Rolling Stones music while Moya and Patrick just kept staring into each other's eyes. Everyone could see they were mad about each other.

Thank God for her cousins Fergus and Conor who had at least made her laugh and had great rhythm and loved dancing. Kate had been stuck up at the top table with the old folks and Andrew Redmond, who though he wasn't a patch on his handsome brother seemed a nice guy. Kate had got up to dance with him and chatted away with him as they moved around the floor.

Her parents were enjoying themselves: her mother had three gin and tonics lined up in front of her and was lost in conversation with Rosemary Quigley and Mary Corrigan and Lucy Ryan, her first cousin, while her father was standing up at the bar with a crowd of men nursing a glass of Paddy, proud as punch because the whole day had gone so well.

‘The sun even stayed out,' he boasted.

Romy was exhausted from constantly dancing – even young Jack Dillon had twirled her around the room – and talking to all the relations who kept telling her how grown up she'd got! Giddy from the wine and the music and the heat in the marquee she stepped outside to get a breath of cool fresh air. The garden looked amazing, all lit up with a mixture of fairy lights and candles, which flickered in the darkness, the scent of honeysuckle heavy in the night air.

‘How ya, Romy?'

She spun around, recognizing the voice immediately. It was Brian. Her Brian. ‘What are you doing here?' she gasped.

‘I'm home from London for a few days and I heard that McHugh's needed a few extra barmen to cover a wedding party so I signed up for the job. I'm used to pulling pints and changing barrels. I could do with a bit of extra cash.'

‘I can't believe that you're here at Moya's wedding. I didn't even see you earlier.'

‘I only came on duty at seven, though I was helping back at the pub before that.'

Suddenly Romy felt shy, standing there all dressed up in her long bridesmaid's dress. ‘You look beautiful,' he said as if reading her mind.

Romy grinned. Usually she was wearing jeans or shorts or old tracksuit bottoms and her runners when she met him.

‘Do you like it?'

He reached forward, his hands touching the outline of her shoulder and breast.

‘You know I do.'

She caught his hand in hers, tracing the length of his finger and palm, wanting to feel the touch of his skin against hers. She'd missed him so much. Without thinking she kissed his thumb, as Brian pulled her close to him.

‘I'm working, Romy,' he groaned. ‘Old man McHugh will go mad if he sees me here with you. I'd better get back to the bar.'

‘What time are you working till?'