Grace had volunteered to mind Evie while Sarah went to London for the weekend. ‘Are you sure you’ll be able to manage a six-year-old for all that time?’ Sarah had asked as if she doubted her capabilities.
‘Evie will be fine,’ she’d promised. ‘I’ll collect her from Mum’s on Friday evening after work and guard her with my life. You just go to London and concentrate on selling your book. Evie is in good hands with Auntie Grace.’
Sarah was so grateful to her for minding Evie so she could have just two nights away that Grace felt horribly guilty about having been such a self-centred cow and not having been a better aunt and sister. To compensate she had loaned Sarah her expensive travel bag and a new fitted honey-coloured jacket that she had only worn twice.
To tell the truth she was actually looking forward to having Evie as company in the apartment. The weekends since breaking up with Shane had become an abyss of gloom. She just hung around watching DVDs, shopping, sleeping in and recovering from nights out late clubbing and drinking with her friends. The promised phone call from Mark McGuinness had, as she suspected, failed to materialize; obviously the fact that he had half the single female population of Dublin after him meant that she had barely figured on his radar. Her mother had quizzed her about seeing him again but Grace had put her off by saying that she was far too busy at work to get involved with anyone at the moment. At least this weekend with a six-year-old around was going to be different: fresh air and walks, a trip to a playground, cooking something nutritious and staying home at night. If Sarah could do it, she certainly could!
Evie was jumping up and down with excitement about coming to sleep in her apartment when she collected her after work. It made more sense for her to take her this evening as her mother and Aunt Kitty planned to get up at the crack of dawn and get an early start joining the parish group on the bus for their annual pilgrimage to Knock.
‘I’ll say prayers for all your intentions,’ she promised, ‘and ask Our Lady to be good to you all and answer your special requests.’
Maggie Ryan and her sister Kitty had undertaken the annual pilgrimage to the Holy Shrine in Mayo to thank the Lord for his blessings ever since Aunt Kitty’s awful diagnosis with breast cancer. Her mother’s handbag was already stuffed full of letters and petitions from neighbours and friends, every one of them looking for favours and requests.
‘Grace, there must be something you’d like a bit of divine intervention on,’ she coaxed. ‘Anna and Sarah have already given me their letters.’
Grace grabbed a piece of notepaper from the pad in the kitchen and scribbled something, hunting in the drawer for an envelope, and then sealed it shut.
‘There,’ she said, passing it over.
Her mum looked relieved. She loved to have things to pray for: exams, health, decisions, careers. She’d always been the religious type, a real Irish Catholic mammy who loved going to mass and talking to the saints. She was spiritual in her own way but ever since Leo’s death she’d derived great comfort from prayer and helping out in the parish. Grace would bet her mother was doing this pilgrimage in the hope of the Good Lord finding her daughters husbands. She smiled to herself. Maggie Ryan was looking for a miracle if she thought any decent men were suddenly going to appear on the scene, prayers or not!
‘Auntie Grace, I’m sleeping over in your house tonight!’ squealed Evie, her red and black ladybird backpack at the ready. Grace smiled, remembering the excitement of going to stay with Aunt Kitty or Granny when she was younger, half nervous about missing your mother but anticipating something different: a new bed, strange food, a break from the humdrum routine of childhood.
‘Remember, if there are any problems, phone me!’ urged her mum as she walked them out to the car. ‘And no fizzy drinks before bed or she’ll be awake half the night.’
‘Mum, she’s going to be fine. Evie and I are going to have a great time together.’
‘I’ll say a prayer for the two of you,’ smiled her mother, waving as they set off.
Evie ran around the apartment three times like a small puppy checking everything out while Grace made a start on fixing them dinner: chicken strips tossed in a golden coating of flour and herbs then roasted and served with potato wedges. Her niece had been to visit a few times before, but without Sarah, it was now all new territory. Curious, she pulled open the kitchen presses and the larder cupboard and the fridge before checking out the small spare bedroom where she was to sleep. Grace had bought three pink pillows in Dunnes and a ballerina-patterned lampshade for the bedside light. She’d been tempted to go to town and change the whole room and make it more child-friendly but had settled on a girly touch.
Evie carefully unzipped her backpack and Grace helped her to put away her clothes neatly in the drawer, taking out a photo of Evie and Sarah at the zoo and putting it beside her bed. Evie ran in and checked Grace’s bedroom before going back and racing out on to the balcony where she was fascinated by the boats and water beneath her.
‘We’re so high up,’ she giggled, tossing a geranium leaf in the air and watching it float downwards.
Grace supposed it was a bit different from the basement flat that she was used to.
‘Evie, why don’t you get into your pyjamas after dinner and we can watch the DVDs I got?’
‘Auntie Grace, aren’t you getting into your pyjamas too?’
‘Of course I will.’ She smiled as she served the plates of food, glad that Evie was a kid with a good appetite and not one of those faddy eaters.
It was just gone eight o’clock on a Friday evening and she was getting into her pyjamas.
‘Everyone wears their PJs at sleepovers,’ giggled Evie, following her into the bedroom and watching her undress while jumping up and down on her big double bed. Grace joined in the fun a few minutes later!
She had bought dolly mixtures, midget gems, marshmallows and a bag of toffee popcorn along with apple juice and chocolate milk. She had managed to get a copy of Mary Poppins and a cute-looking DVD about a dog called Merlin who could do magic. Evie was big into dogs by all accounts.
They snuggled up on the cream couch using a throw from her bed to wrap themselves in as Evie, entranced, followed the story, her small face serious, her dark hair falling over her smooth cheeks. Her eyes almost popped out of her head as Mary Poppins worked her magic and her fingers reached for Grace’s hand. Grace watched the film but spent half the time watching Evie. Sarah was so lucky to have such a lovely kid!
Evie got up and danced to one or two of the songs totally unselfconsciously, making Grace join in, and laughed like a trooper when Merlin the dog turned his owner into a rabbit and began to chase him.
When she saw Evie’s eyes begin to get heavy and ready for sleep, Grace announced that it was time for bed and Evie without any protests had washed her face and hands and brushed her teeth and clambered in between the crisp white sheets.
‘I’ll read you a story,’ Grace offered, sitting beside her. She took up the illustrated copy of Cinderella and the Glass Slipper, one of her niece’s favourites.
Evie’s dark eyelashes gradually closed and Grace sat in utter silence for half an hour, entranced, simply watching her breathe.
Later Grace curled up in a chair outside on the balcony. The city was in darkness; the Friday after-work crowds were making their way to bars and restaurants; the river was slipping by below her. Life, like the dark water of the Liffey beneath, was passing her by. Where was the time going to? She had the best family in the world, had enjoyed an almost perfect childhood and was fortunate to work in the area she had always wanted. Yet she still wasn’t satisfied. She wanted more. Her life was as empty and shallow as a life could be. She was thirty and single and facing a lifetime of being on her own, of being an aunt and maybe never a mother. She didn’t know if she could bear it! They’d all thought Sarah was crazy when she’d jumped in and followed her heart when she was nineteen and never thought of the consequences. With her perfect child, at least she had something to show for it! And Anna might say she didn’t give a toss about love and men but it was clear to everyone that she had fallen for this guy in Connemara. A tear ran down her face. She had read somewhere in a survey that fifty per cent of American women were living on their own and would go through life like that. At the rate things were going she was likely to find herself in the same position and she’d better get used to it. All the nice men she knew were already either married or engaged and the ones that were left wanted to date twenty-year-olds with short skirts and hair extensions. She watched the moon above smile down on the city and heard the sound of music coming from one of the moored boats. She resisted the urge to get a glass of wine and went to the kitchen and poured herself a comforting tumbler of chocolate milk instead before deciding to call it a night and go to bed herself.
She was half asleep when she became aware of the small figure standing in the bedroom doorway in pink and white cotton pyjamas. Evie stumbled into the room and clambered up beside her.
‘Where’s Mummy?’ she whispered sadly. ‘I can’t find her.’
‘She’s away in London tonight, pet,’ Grace reminded her. ‘Remember you’re staying with me and I’m minding you.’
‘But I want my mummy, I miss her.’ Evie began to sob.
‘I know I’m not your mummy,’ Grace said calmly, ‘but I do love you and you’re safe here with me. We’ll phone your mum first thing in the morning and tell her about our sleepover, will we?’
Evie nodded silently, her body cuddling up beside her. Grace took her in her arms and stroked her hair, singing to her softly until eventually she relaxed and they both fell asleep.