48

‘I’ve seen some effort go into getting out of things – I’ve put a lot of that kind of effort in myself – but to actually leave my wedding to avoid doing your speech? Wow.’

Majella isn’t really that angry. I had relayed more or less what had happened with Paul to Sharon on the phone when we were on the way to Garbally and she had passed on the message to the top table. I don’t know how it was explained to the rest of the wedding, but I find James’s face in the crowd and he looks hurt. I don’t blame him. I should have asked him to help me find Paul, not left him in a room of people he barely knows. What does it say about us that I didn’t even think about turning to him for help? He looks done. I don’t blame him for that either. I think I’m done too. What John said to Paul in the graveyard is still in the back of my mind – it’s not my job to fix James or be the antidote to his family problems. I can’t be everything to everyone, as much as I’d like to be.

I spent the drive back to the Ard Rí with John in contented silence. It just felt right. And I know James is here and Megan is here but I feel open. Open to whatever happens. I feel at peace for the first time in ages.

‘I have a surprise coming for you, Maj.’ I smile at her and she looks at me quizzically just as there’s a loud hooting of a horn from the front of the hotel.

Lisa Gleeson runs into the ballroom, flushed and shouting. ‘It’s a bus full of Peigs!’

‘Oh my God,’ roars Majella, and she gathers up her skirt and races out to the lobby, where Sadhbh meets her in a huge hug. I run out too and see Don and the lads and Paul and about ten strangers unloading from a Timoney’s minibus.

Don clocks me and gives me a hug. ‘Sorry we’re so late.’

‘Better late than never! Where did you get the bus?’

‘Oh, he was just outside Ben and Emilia’s wedding waiting to ferry people to wherever they’re staying. Everyone is so spread out. Did I hear David Tennant saying he has a room with an Indian family?’

‘Must be the Singhs,’ I say, nodding. ‘He’ll get a great breakfast there.’

I look up at Tony Timoney sitting in the driver’s seat of the minibus and nod. ‘Let me guess – an NDA?’

‘The very one, Aisling. Now, I’d better go back for the rest of them.’

I go back into the lobby and catch Sadhbh’s elbow. ‘There’s more coming? Who are the stragglers?’

‘Oh, a couple of mates. I hope you don’t mind? When we said we were leaving they begged us to take them with us.’

‘And did Emilia … did she mind?’

‘She gave us her blessing. She was stuck talking to some movie producer and looked bored to death.’

‘At her own wedding? That’s shocking. Was the food nice, at least?’

‘Oh my God, people were raving about your canapés. I should have brought you in to meet Ben. I never thought.’

‘Ah, it was mostly Carol anyway.’

‘Don’t do that. You put so much work into it. Take the compliment.’

‘Okay.’ It nearly kills me to accept it. But I do, because she’s right, I’ve worked bloody hard enough for it. ‘Thank you, Sadhbh.’

There’s the unmistakable sound of an amp being plugged into a guitar from the ballroom and she grabs my hand and we race towards it. The Peigs are setting themselves up with the Love Hurts equipment, and I must say they’ve been very graceful to let them use it. In fact, Brendan Coleman looks downright relieved not to have to try to recreate the Mickey Magic. Majella is front and centre with Pablo right beside her, and I can see Mairead fanning Fionnuala’s face with a napkin. Tickets for The Peigs are probably the only things Fionnuala’s ever spent money on, so an intimate free gig will be like a dream come true for them. Megan and John seem to be having words. Civilised words but words nonetheless. I suppose she’s not thrilled that he disappeared for an hour and a half with his ex-girlfriend from a wedding where he’s the best man. Not a jury in the land would convict her. Seeing them having the words gives me hope. It’s not a feeling I like admitting to myself, but it does. Maybe I don’t want them to work out. Maybe I want –

‘There you are.’

I don’t know how long James has been standing beside me, looking at me looking at John and Megan. He looks pissed off. And why wouldn’t he be? I basically abandoned him.

‘Sharon told me what happened.’ He’s looking over at Paul, who’s pouring champagne into a pint glass for The Truck. ‘I’m glad he’s okay.’

‘Me too,’ I say.

‘Look, Aisling, it’s been a long week. I think I might head home.’

This is where I should stop him. I should ask him to stay, tell him we’ll have a great night. Make it all better. He’s so nice – he doesn’t deserve this.

‘Do you have time for that talk before you go?’ I ask him, not willing to let it drag on for another moment. He nods and I take his hand and slip out into the hallway and through a side door into a quiet courtyard. James talks before I have the chance to.

‘So the job is more or less finished. The Garbally job, I mean. Eh, obviously.’ He doesn’t often look flustered or fall over his words. My heart breaks for him a bit. ‘So I was thinking about jobs in Dublin, or maybe something locally, but I wanted to check …’

I’m already shaking my head and he nods and pulls his mouth into a tight line.

‘I’m so sorry, James. I don’t think you should stay here just for me. It’s just – it’s not working out, is it?’

He shrugs. ‘I stayed here just for you until now, didn’t I?’

Ouch. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I really did hope it was going to be something special. And, James,’ I take his hand, ‘it was, so many times. But it’s not right. You can’t feel like it is either?’

He shrugs again. ‘You’re easy to love, Aisling. And this place, with its bonkers people and your warm family and …’ He trails off, and I want to tell him that my family is far from perfect. Far, far from it. But he doesn’t need to hear that, not James Matthews, little lost boy of George and Celine. I can’t fix him – it’s not my job. I repeat that to myself as we stand in silence.

‘I suppose I was in love with the idea of being in a relationship again. I missed it,’ he says finally.

‘I probably was too, if I’m being honest,’ I admit, thinking back to that night of my thirtieth and the options before me.

‘I did love you, Aisling.’ He looks up at me.

‘I know.’

As I arrive back into the ballroom I don’t even feel sad. I feel … light. Don strikes the first chord of ‘She’s the Business’ and the room erupts in screams.

Four hits in a row later, Don finally takes a breather and speaks into the microphone. ‘I understand we haven’t had a first dance yet here tonight – is that right?’

Everyone roars ‘Nooo’ and Majella and Pablo are pushed into the centre of the room as Don croons the opening lines to ‘If Tomorrow Never Comes’ and it strikes me that it might not actually be the most romantic song for a first dance but, to be fair, Pablo probably does lie awake and watch Maj sleeping, fretting she’s going to die, so leave them off. Shem Moran strides over to Juana and pulls her onto the floor and John does the same to me.

I place my hand on his shoulder and bring myself in close to him, inhaling and expecting that familiar smell, but it’s different. No Lynx Africa. No hint of whatever shampoo someone else bought. But a manly smell. A woody smell. A purposeful smell. He grips my hand tightly and my back even tighter. I feel at home. I remember the last time we danced at a wedding and how far we’ve both come. I feel him move back from me a little and I do the same, feeling like I might say something I may or may not regret. He beats me to it, though.

‘So, I have something to tell you.’ He’s not looking me in the eye, but staring over my shoulder. We’re fairly front and centre so to be gazing at each other might be a bit much, to be fair.

‘Okay.’

‘I’m leaving. We’re leaving.’

‘What?’

Where is he going?

‘Megan, she got a job in Dubai, teaching. So we’re off in a few weeks. And … we’re engaged.’

The roaring in my ears is so loud I feel like I might fall over. Don’s singing becomes sort of far away and a fright goes through my body like a sword. I can feel that cold sweaty feeling coming over me, and the breathlessness. I concentrate hard on my breathing, trying to hide it from him and also very conscious that I haven’t answered.

‘We did it yesterday but, obviously, we didn’t want to overshadow Majella so we said nothing,’ he continues.

I get my breath back enough to force a laugh. ‘She’d kill you.’

He laughs too, and pulls back to look at me, seeming relieved. ‘So, yeah. I just wanted you to know.’

I’m afraid to say anything in case I burst into tears. So it turns out he does want to get married, he just didn’t want to marry me. Across the room I see Megan chatting to Maeve. She’s holding out her left hand but she’s looking straight at us.

Thankfully, I don’t have to say anything because Don interrupts his final chorus, announcing to the room, ‘I believe we have another pair of first dancers in our midst. Majella and Pablo, would you mind?’

I look up and follow Don’s pointed finger to the door of the ballroom, and who’s standing there only Emilia Coburn, Ben Dixon and a gaggle of other strange yet familiar faces. Grateful for the interruption, I detach myself from John and force myself to smile up at him. ‘Ask Megan to dance, I’m just going to get a drink.’

As Majella clocks Emilia and Ben, screams and drops Pablo to run into Emilia’s arms, I push through the throng and sink into the first seat I find. I watch as Maj drags Emilia onto the dancefloor and Ben follows – James Bond an afterthought, like. Emilia is wearing a red dress, definitely not a wedding dress, and I wonder if she changed before she came. Deeply sound of her if so. Sharon is jumping up and down screaming at the edge of the dancefloor. She’s a big fan of Ben’s, always was. The Peigs start up again on one last chorus and I close my eyes for a second.

‘Will you be alright, Aisling?’

It’s a voice I wasn’t expecting to hear. Fran – John’s terrifying mam. She must have come for the afters. No one can resist the Tayto-sandwich buffet, it seems. I open my eyes and she’s beside me, smiling at me kindly, like she knows.

I smile back at her. ‘Yes, Fran, I’ll be alright.’