Longford’s was the same jewellery shop from where they’d bought their wedding bands all those years ago and Noreen had been nostalgic as she stepped over the threshold, the memories of their younger selves washing over her. Mr Longford Senior had retired but his son had taken over the family business. He was the spit of his father which was rather unnerving because it had made Noreen feel as though time had stood still inside the doors of store until she’d caught sight of her and Malachy in the reflection of the glass cabinet. Mr Longford Junior had been happy to show them his range of necklaces, in particular those suitable for a young lady.
It had been Malachy’s idea to get Emer a pendant. He wanted her to have something she could keep. Sixteen was an awkward age from memory, he’d said, turning the open sign to closed on the door of their convenience store a fortnight before. It would be nice to get her something that made her feel like a young lady and what did Noreen think to a necklace of some sort. Noreen had been proud of her husband. He was such a wonderfully, thoughtful man.
They’d spent an age pouring over the tray in Longford’s wanting to get it right because sixteen was an awkward age in more ways than one, and girls these days knew what they liked.
Malachy had something in mind that wouldn’t snap if Emer forgot to take it off when she was sleeping; she tended on the forgetful side he explained to Mr Longford, who told them he knew exactly the sort of thing they were after. He was the father of three girls himself he’d informed them, steering them toward a chain that while strong was not chunky. The cross they decided on was small and delicate. Emer would wear it not the other way around which was as it should be, Noreen thought. She didn’t like ostentatious jewellery. Malachy had looked to her and she’d nodded that yes, the chain and the cross were just right. The pendant was placed with satisfying finesse into a pale lavender box with a silk lining and Noreen was sure Mr Longford’s ears had twitched as she turned to Malachy and said, ‘You know we’ll have to do the same for the others when they turn sixteen don’t you. We can’t be seen to have favourites.’ Malachy had agreed with her. It didn’t need to be said that while they couldn’t be seen to have a favourite niece or nephew it didn’t mean they didn’t have one.
There was a spring in both their steps as Mr Longford saw them to the door. It was at the thought of young Emer’s face when she opened this special gift safely tucked inside Noreen’s handbag.
‘Shall we have a fish and chip supper?’ Malachy had suggested as Noreen linked her arm through his and, even though it wasn’t Friday and they never ate fish on any day except Friday, Noreen said that was a grand idea indeed and very nice it had been too.
Emer, Noreen saw now, was undoing the clasp. She got up from her seat. ‘Here I’ll help you with that. Pass me my glasses, Malachy.’ He did so and she slid them on to the end of her nose instructing her niece. ‘Hold your hair up, Emer.’ She placed the chain around her neck and, peering through the bottom of her lens, secured it. ‘There we are. Now then, let’s have a look at you.’
Emer’s thick waves fell back down around her shoulders and she swivelled in her seat to show her aunty the necklace.
‘Sure, you look a picture, Emer,’ Noreen said, feeling the smarting of tears in her eyes as she gazed at her nearly grown-up niece. Her heart swelled at what a beautiful young woman she was becoming. Malachy too, made an approving noise and Emer got up, eager to see her gift for herself. ‘I’m going to have a look in the bathroom mirror.’
Noreen waited for her niece to disappear and then, winking at Malachy, she went into the kitchen to retrieve the Victoria sponge she’d laboured over. How pleased she’d been to see a deep cake emerge from the oven which sprang back when pressed as it should do. The airy sponge was filled with fresh cream and she shook the icing sugar on top, the finishing touch. She wouldn’t bother with candles. They’d already had a birthday celebration at Rosamunde and Terry’s with the younger children all squealing with delight over the chocolate cake their mammy had made. It wasn’t long before their faces were covered in buttercream and the floor littered with crumbs as with mouths stuffed full of cake, they begged their sister to open her presents.
Emer had been keen to come back with her aunty and uncle to stay the night because she was going to catch the bus to town to go to the cinema with her friends as a birthday treat in the morning. The shop was only five-minute’s walk from where the bus stopped. Noreen had been unable to resist making the sponge even though none of them needed any more cake. As she carried it out to the table, Malachy, with his sweet tooth, sat up a little straighter in his chair at the prospect of two slices of cake in one day and Emer who’d re-joined her uncle at the table clapped her hands.
‘You spoil me, Aunty Nono!’ She beamed up at her, her cheeks rosy with pleasure at all the attention. Noreen put the cake down
