‘We are very lucky,’ Hilary agreed fervently, grateful to be surrounded by family and friends, as Jonathan blew her a kiss and the ships’ sirens sounded their message of celebration, and church bells pealed their song of welcome for the New Year.
Times might have turned very hard, but one good thing austerity was doing was bringing an awareness that what really mattered was not material wealth and status, but family and friends and simple pleasures, Hilary reflected, closing the front door on the blustery night as Niall and the lads began a rousing rendition of ‘Crackling Rosie’.
C
HAPTER
F
ORTY
-T
WO
‘Oooohh!’ Hilary grimaced. ‘What time is it?’
‘Half nine,’ yawned Niall, rubbing a hand over his stubbly jaw.
‘That’s not too bad. I don’t hear anyone else stirring.’
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘In a minute. Put your arms around me and let’s have a snooze,’ Hilary said sleepily, snuggling in against her husband.
‘I have a genius for a wife,’ he said drowsily and moments later he was fast asleep, his breath ruffling her hair. Hilary lay dozing in his arms until a vaguely familiar sound brought her awake. It was coming from downstairs, a Bond theme. ‘Goldfinger’. Jonathan’s phone. The eejit, he must have forgotten it. She slid out from under Niall’s arm, grabbed her dressing gown and hurried downstairs.
The phone had stopped ringing, so she dialled the number on her landline and when it started to ring she saw it halfway down the side of an armchair. She checked out the missed call and saw that it was Jonathan’s landline. Hilary dialled it, smothering a yawn.
‘Hello?’ Jonathan sounded agitated.
‘You idiot,’ she said affectionately.
‘Oh thank God – I thought I’d left it in the taxi!’ She could hear the relief in her friend’s voice. ‘I’ll drive over for it once I’ve got the pork tenderloin stuffed.’
‘Stay where you are, I’ll drop it over. I know you’re cooking for the family lunch.’
‘You are a lifesaver, Hil! Thanks!’ he exclaimed.
‘Just have some fresh coffee brewed,’ she ordered. ‘See ya!’
She opened the fridge, poured herself a glass of orange juice and drank it thirstily. She’d grab something to eat at Jonathan’s.
Niall, who was snoring evenly, didn’t hear her shower or dress, so she scribbled a note and left it propped up against the lamp on his bedside locker. She walked quietly down the landing and placed her ear against Colette’s bedroom door and listened. She could hear little ladylike snores and she smiled, glad that her friend was having a restful sleep. At least the ordeal of New Year’s Eve was over for her.
There was very little traffic. It was a beautiful, crisp, cold morning and the sun, a pale lemon drop, threw sparkles on the sea, and bathed Howth in an ethereal, opaque light as she sped along the Dublin Road to Baldoyle. Jonathan had chosen a very picturesque area to live, she approved, emerging onto the Strand Road and seeing the panorama of blue sea and sky and the emerald sward of Portmarnock golf course across the water. It was such a different vista to the one he’d enjoyed when he’d lived in his eagle’s nest overlooking Dublin’s quays. But one that she preferred.
She drove onto the yellow-brick drive outside his stone cottage, and parked behind his car. It was an old railway cottage with sash windows, on whose sills Jonathan had pots of pink and red cyclamen in a glorious profusion of colour. A seasonal holly-and-red-ribboned wreath enlivened the crimson door with the gleaming brass knocker and letterbox. It was all chocolate-box pretty and Hilary wouldn’t have expected anything less of him.
He had the door open before she even knocked. ‘I heard the car. It really is such a tank,’ he grinned, hugging her.
‘Don’t denigrate my trusty old Saab,’ she remonstrated, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. ‘I need some of that coffee. I was lucky I didn’t fall asleep at the wheel!’
‘Thanks a million for coming over with the phone. I’m way behind schedule as it is,’ he groaned, leading her into the kitchen where he had been preparing the main course for the New Year’s Day lunch he would be cooking in Rosslara. ‘The girls are doing starters and desserts and Mama will be overseeing the entire proceedings from her armchair,’ he laughed. ‘Thank God she’s still with us for another New Year. I couldn’t imagine her not being at home.’ Jonathan poured the dark brown liquid into two elegant coffee cups, milked them and handed the cup and saucer to Hilary. Can I tempt you to a sausage roll?’ He arched an eyebrow at her.
‘Indeed you can,’ she smirked.
‘Guess what I had when I woke up?’
‘Tell me.’
‘Half a box of liqueurs.’
‘Oh cripes! I thought I was bad eating two chocolate Brazils.’
‘We’ll start next week,’ he promised. ‘I’m definitely going to walk at least a mile a day every morning, out on the seafront.’
‘You do that,’ she smiled, having heard about the ‘mile on the seafront’ ever since he had moved from the city a couple of years ago.
‘I am, deffo,’ he assured her, placing his stuffed tenderloins on a greased cooking dish and wrapping it carefully in tin foil.
‘So, what happened last night after you left?’ Hilary demanded, sipping the delicious coffee while she waited for her sausage roll to heat in the microwave.
‘Nothing really, because Murray is going home to cook lunch for his family today, and I’m doing the same for my gang. Both of us had to be up early. He lives in North County Dublin, near Ashbourne, so we didn’t even share a taxi because our routes were miles away from each other but we’re going to meet up next Sunday. I’m going to cook lunch for him here.’
‘I
