Sarah’s heart was in her mouth when she heard that Aunt Kitty was sick and it looked as if her mum’s trip to the spa in Kilcara was about to be cancelled. Her mother had encouraged her to invite a few friends over on Saturday evening and already she had invited fifty people to a ‘small party’ in the house and she had visions of a nightmare day trying to scale it back.
‘What are you going to do?’ Grace asked on the phone from Amsterdam where she was assessing a property for a client.
‘Fingers crossed Mum will still go. She was on to the manageress of the spa and she said they can’t refund the cost at this late stage. She was even trying to get me to go with her but I said I couldn’t because of Evie, and anyway I’m looking forward to the party.’
‘The party will be great, Sarah. I’ll phone her and encourage her to go on her own,’ promised Grace. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow night. My flight is the last one out of Schiphol to Dublin so I’ll probably come straight on, OK?’
Maggie Ryan, despite her qualms, had indeed gone on her own, and had insisted on donating half a dozen bottles of white wine to the party and told Sarah to use her candles around the house and garden.
‘Candlelight always adds to the atmosphere, no matter what the time of year,’ she said, hugging Sarah goodbye. ‘Have a great time, pet, and say hello to everyone from me.’
Sarah spent the whole of Saturday cleaning and tidying the place and setting up tables in the garden. She had made a big dish of spicy chicken and another of minced beef in a light chilli sauce; she would serve them with tacos and fajitas and all the trimmings and two huge bowls of salad. Everyone could help themselves. She believed in keeping it simple. She would lay them out on the big table in the kitchen and if the weather was good people could go outside and find a seat. There were fresh towels and clean soap in the bathroom, and her mother’s clutter of newspapers, magazines, letters and papers that strewed the kitchen and the living room were banished to her dad’s old study. A quick run of the Hoover and a few flowers from the garden flung into her mother’s collection of glass vases and the place looked great.
Angus had surprised her with some crates of beer which he put to chill in the fridge and in Evie’s old baby bath in the back garden. He’d also bought giant bags of tortilla chips and crisps.
‘I’ll give you a hand to set up,’ he offered, helping to position one of the speakers out in the garden.
She had spent the past few days sorting out her CD collection and had downloaded some great stuff on to her iPod to play.
Evie was completely over-excited, running around the place stealing crisps from the bowls and asking who was coming.
‘Angus and all my friends,’ Sarah told her. ‘Auntie Grace and Orla and Liam and Karen and Mick and lots of people.’
‘Can I stay up for the party?’ she pleaded, her face eager.
‘You can stay up for a little while,’ she promised, ‘but you have to swear to go to bed when I say so.’
Evie hesitated, her lower lip signalling stubbornness.
‘Otherwise you’ll have to go to bed before the party starts,’ Sarah threatened.
Evie had agreed and after a quick tea they both had got dressed up in their party frocks. Sarah wore a pale green dress with a cross strap that she’d bought in Coast and a pair of gold sandals, while Evie as usual opted for her fairy dress.
The place looked amazing and Sarah couldn’t believe her good luck with the weather, which was holding fine as the first guests arrived. She went out of her way to introduce Angus to everyone and was glad that Karen and Mick had gone to the trouble to bring a bag of jelly dinosaurs and a Barbie colouring book for Evie along with some wine.
‘Thanks for being so thoughtful.’ She hugged her best friend and led them through to the kitchen and garden.
‘I’m bagging a chair as I’ve no intention of standing all night,’ Karen insisted, throwing her handbag and wrap across one. ‘Only five weeks to go to D-Day, thank God!’
Orla and her fiancé were next and Evie was thrilled to hear everything about their upcoming wedding and the fitting for her dress.
‘How’s my favourite flower girl?’
Evie did a twirl in her dress and showed how she would walk solemnly up the aisle.
‘Perfect,’ enthused Orla, giving her a big hug and a kiss.
As more and more people arrived they spilled out into the garden.
‘Ronan!’ screamed Sarah as Ronan Dempsey, looking dashing in a cream linen jacket and sand-coloured chinos, arrived. She had invited him but hadn’t really expected him to come all the way from London.
‘Another weekend in Dublin, honest is it any wonder I’m torn between the two places? Thank heaven for Ryanair.’
She grabbed his arm and introduced him to as many people as possible. She couldn’t believe the huge crowd. She’d give it another while and then start serving the food. Angus was a great help and had taken over the awful job of opening wine bottles. Ronan and he were getting on famously with Ronan regaling him with tales of a Hogmanay trip he’d taken to Edinburgh four years ago.
Irina had come along with a tall good-looking guy. He was Polish too, and seemed very keen on her, judging by the possessive way he kept his arm around her for the night.
Mark McGuiness to her surprise had also turned up brandishing a huge bunch of flowers and two bottles of red wine. She had invited him as a way of saying thanks for helping with Evie’s broken arm.
‘It’s not my birthday!’ she giggled, giving him a big hug.
‘A lady should always receive flowers,’ he teased, ‘no matter the occasion.’
She dragged her new neighbour along and introduced him to a few of her schoolfriends and to Karen and Mick, only to discover he already knew Mick through some kind of business connection.
‘He always knows people no matter where we go,’ remarked Karen, glancing proudly at her husband.
Sarah was having such a good time that she almost forgot the food and had to turn on the cooker and oven in a hurry and give everything a quick blast. Irina gave her a hand to set it all out on the massive table which was bathed in candlelight.
Everyone took a plate and began to line up to help themselves. Grace arrived at last and immediately grabbed their mother’s blue-and-white-striped apron to help her serve the food.
‘Thanks,’ Sarah gasped, relieved to have an extra pair of hands.
‘Wow, you’ve got a great crowd,’ said Grace admiringly, looking around the room.
‘Just friends.’
But they were good friends. They had stuck up for her and stood by her during bad times when she was low and lonely and now that good things were beginning to happen she wanted them to be able to celebrate them too.
‘You never told me that he was coming!’ whispered Grace, pushing her fair hair back off her face.
‘Ronan? I didn’t know myself that he was.’ Sarah laughed, glancing out towards the garden where Ronan was sitting at the table stuffing himself with a fajita packed with cheese and mince and peppers.
‘No, I mean Mark.’
‘For God’s sake, Grace, of course I’d invite him. He’s our neighbour and a friend!’
Sarah couldn’t believe the way Grace’s face flamed and decided to say nothing else as Clodagh Flannery, who lived on the far side of the square, was already busy chatting Mark up. Clodagh usually had men falling at her feet, with her jet-black hair and perfect model figure, and had broken up only eight weeks ago with a member of the Irish rugby team. From the kitchen window Sarah could see Evie was beginning to wilt and excusing herself went to check on her.
‘Come on, fairy girl, time for bed!’
‘Mummy, I’m not tired yet,’ she protested, her eyes heavy with sleep. But once reminded of her promise Evie said a reluctant goodnight to everyone.
Grace stepped in and offered to put her to bed. ‘It’s your party, Sarah. Besides, how often do I get the chance to be with my fairy goddaughter?’
She was so lucky that Grace as well as being a great auntie was the perfect godmother and took the role pretty seriously. Sarah kissed Evie and then went to check that everyone had drinks. Everyone had eaten now and the food had been cleared away, she put out a few nibbles for anyone who was still hungry. The party atmosphere was really relaxed now, and one group were dancing outside on the patio.
Grabbing a glass of wine, Sarah went outside to join Ronan, Karen and Mick, Mark and Clodagh and a few pals from Art College whom she hadn’t seen for years. Ronan was deep in a discussion with them about the vibrant art market in the city and which were the best galleries to show in.
‘Hey, party lady, what about a dance,’ interrupted Angus, coming up behind her.
Taking her hand he led her to the makeshift dance floor and pulled her into his arms. He was a great dancer and really into the music; laughing, she followed his lead.
‘Great party,’ he enthused, ‘and you’ve got a wonderful bunch of friends. I really like them.’
‘I wanted everyone to meet you tonight,’ she said. ‘My friends from school and college, my cousins and neighbours and everyone . . .’
Angus was being so attentive and she loved having him around; he just seemed to fit in.
‘You look divine, Sarah,’ he whispered, touching her neck and placing his lips on her bare skin. ‘I’ve been dying to do this all night.’
‘Angus!’ she teased.
He looked serious and pulled her closer, leaving her in no doubt about his feelings. Sarah responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back.
The party went on for hours, wine bottles littered the kitchen, the stone steps and the patio wall and the baby bath had only empty beer cans left bobbing in it. Grace reappeared and Sarah saw Mark make straight for her, take her arm and lead her down to the wonky wooden bench at the bottom of the garden, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand. Grace was wearing her beige work skirt and a little short-sleeved white blouse, but still looked stunning.
Now it was very late and Sarah said goodbye to her guests, glowing with the fact that she had repaid all the dinners and parties she had been invited to and had managed to pull off a seemingly perfect night. Evie was fast asleep, curled up with her teddy bear Gideon, undisturbed by the music and noise.
As the crowd disappeared Sarah kicked off her shoes and began to tidy up, putting a few more plates and glasses in the dishwasher.
‘Leave it,’ urged Angus dragging her back outside, Karen was dancing barefooted with Mick, her belly huge, her skin tanned and glowing. In a few weeks her best friend would be a mother too, and would discover how much her life was going to change. Ronan was still deep in discussion with a friend of Sarah’s from Art College, the two of them arguing good-naturedly, but it was seeing the way Grace and Mark were dancing together that really surprised her. They weren’t saying a word, just gazing at each other, her sister’s fingers clasped in his.
One last bottle of wine was opened and they all danced easily together to her mum and dad’s old Burt Bacharach CDs, Sarah resting her head on Angus’s shoulder as they smooched to the music.
‘This guy is in love . . .’ he whispered.