Coming Home for Christmas (6 page)

The big platter of raisins and sultanas was placed in the centre of the table and the chopped green and red glacé cherries and mixed peel added, bringing glorious colour to the sticky
mixture.

Everyone got a chance to whisk an egg, and sieve some flour, and as Esther showed the children what to do, she caught Olivia’s eye, and mother and daughter smiled at each other, very much
aware that they were creating wonderful heartwarming memories for the three little girls, just as mothers and grandmothers before them had done for them.

The wind howled down the chimney, keening like a banshee, and deluges of rain battered the windows, but the kitchen was warm and snug with the smell of whiskey and fruit wafting around the
table. Esther felt a pang of loneliness as she thought of Alison. Had her daughter any notion of what a rare afternoon this was for their family, or would she have been at all interested in
assisting, had she been here? She sighed and offered up a little prayer for her younger daughter and gave an added one of thanks for all her own good fortune.

Eventually, the mixture was ready to be spooned into the creamy, speckled pudding bowls which Esther had used for many, many years. ‘Time for the wishing ceremony,’ Kate declared
solemnly. ‘Get Grandad quick.’

Ellie was down off her stool in a flash and she hurried to get Liam. ‘Grandad! Grandad! Come on, come on,’ she yelled, dancing with excitement. ‘You can wish for anything you
want, but you’re not to tell what it is.’

Liam swept her up in his arms and came back into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively. ‘Ummm! Let me inspect to see if it’s up to standard,’ he said, winking at Esther. He
poked and stirred and ate a cherry as his granddaughters watched him anxiously, awaiting his verdict.

‘Perfect,’ he declared. ‘The best ever. Time to give it a stir and make a wish. Who’s first?’

‘Youngest first,’ Olivia decreed as they all clamoured for the wooden spoon. It was a most solemn occasion. Each of them took their turn, their little faces earnest as they stirred
and wished for their heart’s desire. Esther was about to take her turn when the phone rang.

‘Hi, Mam, how are things? What’s happening?’ Alison’s voice floated down the line clear as a bell.

‘Ah, darlin’, what perfect timing. We’ve just finished mixing the puddings, and we’re all here making our wishes,’ Esther exclaimed. ‘What a pity you
can’t be with us, Alison.’ Her heart ached with loneliness. She had such a longing to see her younger daughter, it was almost physical.

‘Is Olivia with you? Are the girls there?’

‘Yes, we’re all here. Your father has just given the mix his seal of approval and the wishing ceremony is taking place.’ Esther smiled down at her granddaughters, who were
waiting impatiently for her to make her wish, so they could spoon the mixture into the bowls.

‘I’ll make a wish for you, Auntie Alison,’ Kate offered loudly.

‘Did you hear that, Alison?’

‘I did. I’d love you to make a wish for me, Kate,’ Alison said as Esther held the phone out for them all to hear the exchange. ‘Give it a good stir for me,’ she
urged.

‘Me too, me too,’ clamoured Ellie, grabbing the spoon.

‘Mommm!!’ Kate protested. ‘I said I was doing it.’

‘You can all do one,’ Olivia said, as it looked as though a row was going to break out.

‘Wow! Three wishes – how lucky am I?’ Alison’s voice drifted over the pudding basin as her nieces each gave a vigorous stir, trying to outdo each other with their
vim.

‘There, it’s done,’ Esther assured Alison when it was finished. ‘You don’t usually ring in the afternoon. You’re not off work sick or anything are you? Are
you ringing from a call box?’ she queried. ‘I can hear traffic.’ It was strange that her daughter should ring during the day. It was usually night time in Ireland when she phoned,
generally being too busy in the morning to make personal phone calls.

‘Emm . . . yeah, I was just heading uptown to a meeting and had a few minutes to spare, and I have to go to a function tonight so I just thought I’d give you a quick call. The
signal’s not great on my phone here so I used a booth. I wanted to see how you were doing after the flu.’

‘Much better, love, much better,’ Esther said warmly, touched by her daughter’s concern. ‘How are you? Up to your eyes as usual? Gadding about having the high life with
Jonathan? Are you off anywhere exotic this year?’

‘Er . . . just staying in New York,’ Alison fibbed, hating having to lie but not wanting to worry her parents about how utterly her circumstances had changed. Jonathan might not even
be on the scene by Christmas if her altered situation impacted too much on their relationship.

‘Do you want to say hello to your father?’ Esther asked. ‘He’s here helping out.’

‘I’d love to. Thanks, Mam. Enjoy making the puddings. I’ll talk to you soon.’ Alison was relieved she didn’t have to tell any more vague untruths to her mother.

‘Hello, Alison, how are you doing?’ Liam took the phone. ‘How are things in the Big Apple? Are the banking dramas having any effect on you? It’s dreadful here,
Anglo’s gone belly up.’

‘Umm . . . I know – I lost my shares there, the greedy scumbags.’ Alison was thrown off guard. She longed to drop the façade and confide that
she’d
gone
belly up and lost her job as well as her investments. She was trying to keep the feelings of stomach-lurching apprehension at bay as her savings diminished with heart-stopping rapidity and the
affluent lifestyle she had known became a mere dream. Her success story was over, her family would be so disappointed –
for
her, not
in
her – if she told them the truth.
It would be so easy to blurt it out, but what good would it do? It would only upset them, and she didn’t want to do that. She’d keep quiet for another while, maybe things would take a
turn for the better.

‘Yeah, it’s all a bit mad here too, Dad, we’re just hoping things might begin to stabilize now that Obama’s plan has been passed by Congress,’ she managed.

‘Tough times, love. You know, you should think about buying a place at home, just so you’d have a roof over your head if you ever wanted to come back. Property prices are way down.
Now’s the time to buy. Or if you’re planning on staying stateside, buy there. That’s a very hefty rent you pay out in New York. It’s dead money,’ Liam advised.

‘Yeah, good thinking, Dad. The next time I’m home I’ll see what the scene is like.’ She tried to keep her tone airy. ‘Is Olivia still there? I’ll say a quick
hello before I head off.’

‘Yes, love, here she is. Mind yourself now and keep in touch. I’ll email you tonight.’

‘OK, Dad, bye.’ Liam handed the phone to Olivia.

‘Hi, Alison, pudding mix is looking good,’ Olivia said.

‘Sounds like fun,’ her sister said wistfully.

‘It is, but the washing-up awaits!’

‘Is everything on track for the party?’

‘Yeah, no prob,’ Olivia said non-committally.

‘Right, see you next week so.’

‘Is it snowing?’ Olivia changed the subject hastily, aware of their mother’s keen hearing.

‘Pelting down. I better go – I’ll call you over the weekend. Let me hear another wish being made.’

Olivia held the phone over the table. ‘Right, everyone, hands on the wooden spoon and everyone make a last wish for Alison,’ she ordered.

Eager hands grasped the spoon and stirred it in a circle in the big basin of pudding mix. ‘For Auntie Alison,’ her nieces yelled as Liam placed his hand over his wife’s and
gave it a little squeeze, knowing instinctively that Esther was wishing Alison was there with them. She felt a stab of loneliness as she took the phone to say goodbye to Alison and hung up.

‘Perfect,’ Liam said briskly as they gave a last decisive stir before handing his wife back the wooden spoon. She watched her three granddaughters spooning pudding mixture into the
bowls. Liam was helping Ellie, grey head bent close to blond curly one. Ellie’s tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated intently on the job in hand. Lia spooned
slowly, carefully, not wanting to drop any of the mixture, while Kate lashed it in any which way, in her usual carefree gung ho manner. They all had such different personalities, Esther thought
fondly as she watched each bowl fill up. Olivia was gathering up the dishes to bring them over to the sink. Esther began filling the dishwasher. She was a lucky woman, to be surrounded by her
family. Her daughters were reared and doing well for themselves, her granddaughters were the joy of her life, and her husband was her greatest blessing. How many women hitting seventy had what she
had? she thought gratefully, trying to banish the frisson of sadness Alison’s phone call had brought. Her daughter had sounded tired, as if she was making an effort to be bright and breezy
for them; maybe it was because she’d lost her bank investments. That had to be disheartening. All that hard work for nothing because a small circle of greedy people who felt the rules
didn’t apply to them had behaved with an arrogance and avariciousness that was beyond belief. Alison had worked damn hard to get where she was. Perhaps that was the problem, maybe she was
working way
too
hard and it was getting on top of her. But definitely today she hadn’t been her bright, bubbly self, and Esther couldn’t help but worry.

Alison hung the phone back in its cradle after managing a subdued ‘Thanks,’ and rooted in her bag for a tissue. She felt incredibly lonely. She could just imagine
the fun, laughter and excitement in the big warm kitchen at home. They were five hours ahead of her, and her day stretched out in a long, dull vista that made her feel strangely lonely, unsure and
apprehensive. Her earlier positivity had disappeared after speaking to her family. She’d had her post redirected to her new building, and there had been no comfort in her mail delivery this
morning: utility bills and job refusals and some junk mail. She was going to have to try and get a job waitressing if something didn’t come up soon, she thought glumly.

‘Now stop!’ she said sternly to herself as she headed back to her new pad. She wasn’t going to wait for her friends to come to help her unpack; she was going to make a start on
her unpacking right this minute. They’d been good enough to help her move her stuff. She needed to just get on with things. It was imperative to keep busy, then she wouldn’t have to
think about the disaster her life had suddenly become. Right now she would give anything to be at home with her family, making Christmas puddings. In fact, right now she wished she were a child
again, with nothing to worry about, cocooned in the love and safety of home.

She could see the Irish guys were back with another load of boxes and belongings for JJ’s place. Impulsively, she headed into the deli and ordered four coffees to go and a bag of cookies.
It was surely time for them to have a coffee break. It would be a neighbourly thing to do. The kind of thing you’d do at home, she thought, perking up at the thought of having someone to talk
to and have a laugh with. She carried the cardboard coffee-holder carefully as she jaywalked across the street. Frankie, the short, wiry one, was leaning against the van having a smoke. ‘Are
you on for a coffee? I thought you could do with a break,’ she said cheerily.

‘Hey, that’s decent of you. I’ll give the lads a shout – or do you want to come up to JJ’s?’

‘Are you inviting strange women up to my crib, bro?’ a deep voice behind them said.

‘Your new neighbour here bought us coffee, so yeah, bro,’ Frankie joshed back.

‘Well, thank you, Ms Dunwoody. Let me take that. We don’t want you spilling it. Will you make it up the three flights?’ JJ slagged.

‘I go to the gym, I’ll make it,’ she said confidently.

‘You’re a fit-lookin’ woman all right,’ Frankie asserted. ‘And that’s more than I can say for myself.’

‘After you,’ JJ said politely when they reached 3B.

‘Oh, it’s big! Much bigger than mine,’ exclaimed Alison, walking down a hallway that led into a large airy room with two long sash windows to the front and a smaller window to
the side.

‘This is a one-bed. There are two one-bed apartments on this floor and the floor underneath. Your floor and the ground floor are the studios,’ JJ explained. ‘A friend of mine
owns this building. I helped him renovate it. I’m in the process of buying a fairly rundown clapboard house in Westchester that I’m going to renovate in my spare time. I’m going
to live in a trailer there once the deal goes through and spring comes.’

‘Oh! You’re in the building trade?’ queried Alison, gazing around at some beautiful pieces of furniture which, to her eye, looked very expensive.

‘I’m a carpenter by trade, but I specialize in bespoke furniture,’ JJ said as he handed her a coffee, and offered one each to Frankie and Fintan.

‘Wow, that’s an amazing table.’ Alison ran her finger along a circular rosewood table that gleamed even in the leaden daylight that filtered through the voile curtains. There
were six chairs, too, carved ornately and padded in a rich burgundy material. JJ Connelly had impressive taste, she reflected, noting the elegant bookshelves awaiting their treasures and the slim,
matching rosewood, glass-fronted cabinets that stood at each corner of the wall, the round table between them.

‘Glad you like it,’ he said crisply, blue eyes glinting at her. He’d taken off his peaked sports cap, and his thick, dark-chestnut hair was boyishly tousled.

‘Have a cookie?’ she offered, remembering she’d bought them.

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ He took one out of the bag she proffered and wolfed it down with a slug of coffee. Alison offered the bag to the two F’s, as she’d privately
christened them, and they gave them short shrift.

‘So what line of business are you in, Alison?’ JJ eyed her speculatively.

‘I was in the financial sector.’ She shrugged.

‘Was?’ He arched an eyebrow at her.

‘Yep. I lost my job a few weeks ago. The firm I was working for collapsed after the Madoff scandal. Went to work one morning and we were all told to go home, the company was bankrupt. So
that was that. Jobless, with not much prospect of getting another one at the moment. I’ve sublet my apartment uptown and taken this one while my friend, who lives here, is in LA. I took it
for three months. If I don’t get a job by then, I guess I’ll have to quit America and go home, or see what comes up elsewhere,’ she explained.