AFTER MUCH CAJOLING and persuasion by his wife, daughters and sister-in-law and some deliberate masculine consideration Frank Dillon had finally agreed to fund his second daughter’s twenty-first party.
‘Kate, there’s no question of hiring a room over a pub and just drinking,’ he’d warned. ‘This will be a proper occasion here at home in Rossmore with your mother and I and friends and family present to celebrate your coming of age.’
‘Thank you, Daddy,’ she’d squealed, convinced that if she engineered it properly it would end up mostly her friends with the bare minimum of family.
Back in her flat in Dublin she had drafted and redrafted the invitation list about twenty times, having huge arguments with Minnie and another friend Dee as to who was deserving of an invitation and who was not.
‘You have to have Lisa,’ they chorused, ‘she invited you to hers.’
‘She invited two hundred and she barely speaks to me if you two aren’t around.’
‘She’s off the list.’
‘What about Patrick?’
‘You don’t have to invite him,’ insisted Minnie. ‘He’s finished college and is older than everyone else.’
Kate still fancied Minnie’s older cousin like mad and in the past few weeks had finally gone out with him. They had gone to the cinema, Kate making sure they got seats in the back row. Then he’d asked her to supper in Nico’s, and spent the night arguing about the government and the state of the economy, Kate feeling like she was on some kind of private debating team until he’d driven her home and detoured to the quiet of the deserted Sandymount Strand, where the two of them necked for hours.
Getting up her courage she’d invited him to the Law Ball, almost swooning when she saw him in his tuxedo, and had spent the most wonderful night dancing in his arms for hours. Full of romantic intentions she had invited him back to the flat but apparently had drunk so much wine she fell asleep on the sofa. Minnie had had to put her to bed. Diplomatically Patrick had said nothing. Kate decided that not only was he tall and good-looking but he was head and shoulders above all the other guys she knew in terms of discretion and maturity.
‘I don’t know what you see in him. I think he’s a pain.’
‘Shut up, Minnie, he’s on the list.’
Finally they had arrived at the figure of sixty who would be formally invited to celebrate her twenty-first birthday. College friends mostly, and a few of her old school friends and of course her cousins the Quinns. Her parents were insisting on a few more relations and their friends the Molloys and the Kinsellas. She had a second back-up list and was secretly praying that her relations or that snobby Claudia Kinsella would be hit with some bug or virus that would allow her to invite more of her Trinity crowd.
Minnie and Dee had traipsed the streets of Dublin with her looking for the perfect outfit.
‘Why don’t you take Moya with you?’ suggested her mother. ‘You know she has a really good eye for fashion and what looks right.’
Kate said nothing. This was her party and her big sister wasn’t having any hand or part in running it as far as she was concerned.
They went from shop to shop – Brown Thomas, Switzers and Richard Allen’s, trying on one dress after another. Undecided, Kate hadn’t a clue what look she actually wanted: sexy, classic, floaty and feminine?
‘I’ll know it when I see it!’ she insisted, trying to jiggle into a slinky red backless dress in Pamela Scott’s.
Minnie preferred the clingy pale blue halterneck dress, which showed off her curves and shimmied in the light.
‘The black is better,’ insisted Dee.
Kate studied herself in the simple black scooped-neck dress that fell to the floor, a high slit on either side revealing her thighs.
‘It’s so classy and it makes you look like you’ve dropped at least a stone.’
Kate sighed. She wasn’t sure about the black, maybe it made her look too old.
The quest resumed and they made a quick sortie across the Liffey to Arnotts and Clery’s. Disappointed, they headed back up towards the Green.
‘What about Powerscourt?’ suggested Minnie, who was ready to collapse and had developed a blister on her heel from the new shoes she was breaking in.
‘Agreed.’
They walked down past Clarendon Street church and entered the magnificent old Georgian townhouse that had been transformed into high-class boutiques and expensive gift shops with a Design Centre, art gallery and restaurants too.
‘There’s got to be something here.’
The Design Centre was fabulous but she knew her father would have a heart attack if she told him she had paid that sort of price for a party dress. She just couldn’t afford it. Down near the big carved wooden staircase she gazed at the window of Ritzy, one of the smaller designer shops, and was entranced by the unusual party dresses that hung from wires as part of the display.
‘Is this it?’ screeched Minnie, leading the charge inside. They went through rail after rail, pulling out three possibilities. Minnie collapsed on a stool in the corner as Kate pulled on one dress after another. Sweat clung to her brow as she struggled with zips and straps in the tiny space.
Suddenly she knew it. This was the one. The perfect dress. Minnie forgot her blister and almost wept with relief as Kate let the pale pink dress down over her body. It fell smoothly over her tummy and hips, flaring out ever so slightly and ending just above her knees. Two narrow straps held it on her bare shoulders and a slight glimmer of glitter traced the low neckline.
‘Wow!’ shrieked Minnie, calling Dee to get into the fitting room.
Kate stared at herself in the long mirror. It was exactly what she was looking for. It made her legs look long, her tummy disappear and she felt beautiful in it. Judging by the reactions of her two friends the decision was made. Five minutes later the dress was wrapped in tissue in the striking purple Ritzy bag as they headed to Bewley’s for a reviving coffee and cream cake.
‘We’ll do the shoes next week,’ joked Dee.
Kate licked the cream from the chocolate éclair, imagining herself pirouetting in front of Patrick, looking absolutely gorgeous.
She went home on the Friday night to help with the organization of the party. Her mother was in her element, the kitchen stacked high with plates and glasses and cutlery.
Maeve Dillon was one of that rare breed who enjoyed entertaining. There were two huge honey-baked hams, a turkey and a side of salmon. Tomorrow there would be salads, savoury rice, baby potatoes and crisp white freshly baked bread rolls, and for dessert the Black Forest gâteau and a pavlova that had been ordered from Lavelle’s.
Kate was furious that her mother was actually paying her father’s mistress to make the desserts for her party!
‘Can’t you order them from somewhere else?’ she’d pleaded.
‘But where, pet? Everyone knows that Lavelle’s are the best.’
Kate didn’t know what to say. Obviously her mother still hadn’t a clue about her father and his amorous goings-on. Kate hadn’t the heart to tell her and spoil everything, but swore that, twenty-one or not, she would not eat one bite of the dessert that Sheila O’Grady delivered. She could see a frown on her mother’s face, the worry that everything might not be perfect; after all, she was the one who’d cajoled and persuaded Frank to let Kate have a party.
‘Listen, Mum, thanks a lot. Everything looks great and I’m sure the pavlova will be perfect.’
‘Imagine, this time twenty-one years ago I was all out pregnant, ready to burst,’ joked her mother, ‘and now look at my baby all grown up, almost finished college, my clever, clever Kate.’
They held each other in the warmth of the kitchen.
‘It will be wine or beer,’ interrupted her father. ‘That’s what we are providing. No gin or whiskey or vodka for young people under my roof. We don’t want any drunkards.’
‘That’s grand, Daddy.’
She resisted the impulse to retort that it was the older guests that might need watching on that score, as he disappeared off with the Irish Times to the peace and quiet of the living room.
‘He’ll be fine tomorrow, don’t worry,’ added her mother as she washed some more plates and cutlery. ‘You should go to bed and have a bit of an early night so you’ll look refreshed tomorrow.’
Kate yawned. She hadn’t realized just how tired she was. Preparations were well in hand so she could safely disappear to her room.
All night she’d tossed and turned, dreaming of disasters that could befall her family and friends within the next twenty-four hours. Excitement and nerves ensured she barely slept a wink.
She was greeted with breakfast in bed and her sisters singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. Kate puffed up her pillows and roused herself as the present-giving began. A beautiful gold chain for her neck from her mum and dad, an embroidered clutch bag from Moya and a pair of dangly silver moon-shaped earrings from Romy.
‘They’re all beautiful,’ she smiled. ‘Just beautiful.’
She lay back and ate tea and toast as out on the landing her mother and sister screamed at each other.
‘Why do I have to hoover the hall and the stairs and the landing?’
‘Because I said so,’ argued her mother.
‘It’s her party. She should be doing it!’
‘Romy, I’m telling you to do it! Later on you are to have a bath and wash your hair and put those filthy jeans of yours in the machine. D’ya hear?’
Kate turned over, ignoring them. Romy could do her worst! She was not fighting, today of all days. Being twenty-one meant something. It meant being too grown up to bother with a lippy seventeen-year-old kid who drove you crazy. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.
People had started to arrive and she was barely finished dressing. Minnie had done her nails for her and lent her a pale mauve eyeshadow that looked great with her dress. Romy had borrowed her mascara and given it back with bits of fluff from the carpet stuck to it. She’d kill her. The dress looked even better than it had in the shop and her mother’s eyes welled with tears when she came in to see her.
‘You look stunning, darling.’
She put on the delicate strappy gold high heels she’d found, destroying one nail in the process. Minnie demanded cotton wool and nail-varnish remover straight away. Downstairs she could hear the doorbell and laughter as her father and Moya greeted the first arrivals. ‘Hurry on, Minnie,’ she begged, not wanting to miss any more of the party.
The house was packed – the living room, the kitchen, the hall, the stairs even – but Kate could feel the tension ease from her as she realized everyone was enjoying themselves and mingling. Romy looked like some kind of Gothic avenger with her eyes heavily lined with kohl and a pale blue denim skirt almost up to her thighs and black leather boots as she passed around the drinks as the Quinns arrived. Moya was in the kitchen helping, and even her mother’s apron couldn’t take away from the stylish simple black sleeveless dress she wore with black pumps which, with her pale skin and straight black hair, made her look like something out of Vogue. Her father was fussing around looking for more corkscrews and a top-up from his secret stash of whiskey while Maeve Dillon regaled everyone with embarrassing stories of the night Kate was born.
‘You scrub up well,’ jeered her cousin Conor, swinging her up and giving her a big birthday kiss.
‘Put the poor girl down,’ ordered her Aunt Vonnie, pushing a huge present into her arms.
What in heaven’s name was it?
‘Guess!’ yelled her four male cousins.
She hadn’t a clue.
‘We are sailing, we are sailing . . .’ they began to sing in unison.
Kate blushed.
‘It’s not what I think, is it?’
‘It is!’
‘Oh my God, my crew gear!’
‘Life jacket, waterproofs, boots, over-jacket and mate’s hat,’ they listed off. ‘Salty Dog crew gear.’
Kate grinned. Ever since she was twelve she’d loved hanging around boats and was always looking for the opportunity to go sailing with her cousins. She usually had to cadge stuff off them, and now she had the whole lot.
‘That’s just the perfect present,’ she giggled, hugging them all.
She spent half an hour politely introducing her friends to her father and then gave up, knowing that he would never remember any of them anyways. Patrick was being very mannerly and was deep in conversation with him about the local Chamber of Commerce. Phil and Rob and James and Charlie and some of the guys from her class were already engrossed in a drinking game, which she was tempted to join in but which ended abruptly with her mother’s invitation to pick up a plate and eat. There was food galore, and then the cake with twenty-one candles flickering as everyone in the room sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. Her father stepped forward to make a short speech.
‘I would like to welcome you all, especially Kate’s college friends from Dublin, for coming to join the family here in Rossmore to celebrate Kate’s twenty-first birthday with us. Kate was always a grand girl, the high flyer of the family, the daughter who was destined for big things! She always had her head stuck in the books, but it paid off, and her mother and I are proud now to have such a promising lawyer in the family. One of these days Kate’s probably going to pass out her old man, and be one of these high-powered career women you read about.’
Everyone laughed and Kate squirmed with embarrassment, catching a sympathetic glance from Minnie as her father rambled on. Her mother added how glad she was that so many had come to the party.
‘Speech! Speech!’ called her friends and family. Kate took a deep breath. She glanced around the room, and could feel the goodwill towards her. Mentally she said a thank-you to Professor O’Kelly, who insisted all his students were capable of standing up and expressing themselves.
‘Thank you, everyone, for coming and joining us here in the Stone House, the house where I grew up. I would like to thank my mum and dad, for just being that, being the kind of parents who encouraged me and loved me and believed in me. Thank you to all my friends from college who helped me to settle in Dublin, and especially to my best friends Minnie and Dee who helped me to organize the party. Thanks again of course to my mum and dad for the wonderful food and the bar. Being twenty-one is really crazy because all of a sudden now I’m meant to feel grown up! Anyway I’m just so happy that all the people I love and care about are here with me – my family, my cousins and my friends – because tonight is the best night of my life!’
‘So far,’ added her mother, as Kate began to cut the cake, to shouts and applause from everyone.
Afterwards, Romy started up the music. The mahogany dining table was now pushed back against the wall, and the dancing started.
Kate looked around the room: no sign of Patrick. Phil caught her in his arms and began swinging her round to Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’, Kate keeping an eye out for the tall, dark-haired figure. The boys from her class danced with her one after another, admiration in their eyes. Rob tried to coax a kiss from her, telling her he’d fancied her from the first minute he’d set eyes on her in the Buttery Bar. The room got hotter and hotter as it filled up. Even her mum and dad had taken to the floor and were acting like they were twenty-one.
Conor helped Moya to open the french windows and some of the dancers spilled out onto the patio, glad of the cool air.
Dee was involved in some kind of argument with John, her on-off boyfriend, and Kate vowed not to get tangled up in it. Desperate for a drink of water she decided to go into the kitchen and cool off for a few seconds. Aunt Vonnie was busy putting away the left-overs, wrapping them in tinfoil.
‘There’s enough eating there to do you all for the next two days,’ she joked. ‘Are you having a good time, Kate?’
‘Well I’m glad to hear it. Being twenty-one is real special. You look so grown up, so beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
She liked her aunt because she was always honest and direct.
‘I’d better get back.’
She peeped into the sitting room. Her cousin Liam and Uncle Joe were busy chatting to a group of relations and friends of her parents. The music was blaring from the dining room and she decided to slip outside to chat. Minnie and Phil and James were enjoying cold beers and offered her one.
‘Where’s Patrick?’
‘Beats me.’
‘Maybe he went home!’
Patrick was too much of a gentleman to leave without thanking her and her parents.
‘Relax, Kate. He’ll turn up,’ soothed Minnie.
Kate felt suddenly very grown up standing out under the night sky with her best friends, glass in hand as her parents made eejits of themselves inside. She looked good, her light brown shoulder-length hair still straight, the expensive perfume James and Charlie had given her dabbed erotically on all her pulse points, her toenails painted and peeping from her high heels, as all around her friends and family enjoyed themselves.
After a while she decided to go inside, as she didn’t want to get a chill. She passed through the hall and stopped suddenly. Patrick was leaning against the bottom of the stairs, beer in one hand, rapt with attention, talking to someone. She was about to rush over and grab him, drag him off to dance with her, when something about the way he was bending down stopped her. She walked over slowly, fixing a smile on her face.
He was talking to Moya. The two dark heads and eyes were wrapped up in each other. Moya’s long legs were pulled under her, as they chatted.
‘Patrick, where were you? I was looking everywhere for you!’
He looked up, puzzled.
‘I’ve been here talking to your beautiful sister for the past hour.’
Kate swallowed hard. It had always been the way. It didn’t matter what she wore or did, Moya had only to smile with those full lips of hers and bat those big brown eyes and boys fell at her feet. Ever since playgroup it had been happening.
‘Were you looking for me?’ apologized her sister. ‘Does Mum want me for something? I gave out drinks and slices of the cake like she asked earlier on.’
‘Couldn’t resist the black cherries and cream myself,’ teased Patrick.
Kate cursed her mother for making Moya go around offering cake. She was bound to get talking to Patrick that way. Boys and men were mad on cake. Why the hell couldn’t she have asked Romy to do it instead?
‘Will we have a dance?’ she couldn’t stop herself from begging.
‘Of course I’m going to dance with the Birthday Girl, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ He excused himself to Moya, and taking Kate’s hand led her back into the other room, pushing into a space near Conor and Minnie. He’d taken off his jacket and was wearing a gleaming white shirt. Pressed close to him, he smelled lovely, Eau Sauvage.
‘Great party, Kate. Thanks for inviting me.’
She smiled. Why wouldn’t she invite the one man in the room she adored?
She longed to put her head on his chest and feel his arms around her, have him kiss her neck and without thinking she reached forward to pull him closer to her. Embarrassed she stopped as he pulled away. They danced for another fifteen minutes, Kate talking too much as Phil and Dee and the rest of the party crowd filled in.
‘You look very pretty tonight,’ he told her. ‘Pink suits you.’
She knew she’d get him to notice her. She twirled and danced, disappointed when after a while Patrick excused himself and Rob pulled her into his arms as the slow set started.
As the crowd began to thin, she went in search of him again, still hopeful. She spotted him out on the terrace, near her father’s rose bed, his black jacket across Moya’s shoulder as they leaned against each other, his head bent down over her, his lips touching hers as they kissed.
Kate couldn’t help staring. They looked so perfect together that she wanted to run over and drag them apart. She felt a restraining hand on her arm.
‘I told you not to invite him,’ slurred Minnie. ‘He’s such a womanizer.’
She felt giddy and sick watching them. Patrick was just like her father, didn’t care about anything but suiting himself. The fact that she had invited him was irrelevant now as he held Moya in his arms. As for her sister! Angrily, Kate turned to go back inside. This was her birthday night, her party, the most important night of her life and stupid Moya had to go and ruin it all. She’d never forgive her. Never.