O'Mara's

by Michelle Vernal

  Alasdair looked up from where he was flicking through the reservation book. ‘Aisling O’Mara, my Dublin Rose! My one true love.’ He clapped his hands like a small child having been told they were going to McDonald’s for dinner, before mincing toward her. He lunged at her cheeks, kissing the left, then the right side before resting his hands on either side of her shoulders. ‘You know, ours was the greatest love affair of all.’

  This was what she needed, Aisling smiled at him playing along with the banter.

  ‘I was a penniless artist, you were the beautiful daughter of wealthy parents. We met on an epic voyage at sea but sadly it ended in tragedy.’ His hand fluttered to his chest.

  ‘Hmm, tell me Alasdair, did your name happen to be Jack, and mine Rose?’

  ‘You feel the connection too.’

  ‘I saw Titanic twice.’ She grinned he was a tonic. ‘Now then Jack would you have a table for four available for tonight at five-thirty? It's short notice but our guests asked me for a dinner recommendation at breakfast this morning, and you know Quinn’s is always my first port of call.’

  ‘For which we are eternally grateful, and if there is no room ma petite fleur, we will make room.’

  ‘Thank you. Oh, and I need some brochures while I’m here too we’ve nearly run out.’

  His dark head bobbed beneath the counter and Aisling waited while he crouched down to peer inside the cupboard under the cash register. He popped back up like a jack-in-the-box with a stack of pamphlets for her as the phone began to trill and the door to the street opened.

  ‘Sorry Alasdair, silly time to call in. You answer that, and I’ll go say a quick hello to Quinn.’

  He blew her a kiss before calling out a, ‘Hello darlings, I’ll be with you in two ticks,’ to the man and woman who’d just walked in.

  Aisling left him to multi-task with the phone and customers as she weaved her way around the tables. She smiled a hello at Paula, the waitress whose notepad was in hand as she made her over to a table full of boisterous women. Seeing them all laughing, having a great craic, reinforced her resolve to make a date with Leila the moment she got home. She crossed her fingers, hopefully Marcus would be long gone for today at least.

  Chapter 9

  Aisling pushed open the swinging doors and was assailed with a deliciously rich waft of meats and vegetables simmering away inside the frenetic kitchen. Quinn was over by the gas hobs, his head down in conversation with the sous-chef as they discussed whatever it was bubbling in one of the many pots being tended to. His blonde hair was just visible beneath his hat. The sous-chef spotted her first, giving Quinn a nudge.

  His face she saw was flushed from the steam and he needed a shave which she’d be sure to tell him, but it was nice that his blue eyes lit up at the sight of her. ‘Aisling! How’s the form?’ He wiped his hands on his chequered pants before striding over to wrap her in a hello hug. She hugged him back just as warmly.

  ‘Grand,’ she lied. ‘It’s a bad time to call I know, right on lunchtime. I don’t know what I was thinking other than I fancied a bit of air. I had to make a reservation for some guests and pick up more of these so that’s my excuse.’ She held up the pamphlets. She wouldn’t mention having seen Marcus from afar less than fifteen minutes ago, she knew Quinn’s opinion of him and it wasn’t high. Come to think of it, it hadn’t exactly been glowing before Marcus had jilted her. The feeling between the two men was mutual and she’d never figured out why. Neither had said anything but she could tell by their macho posturing when they were in one another’s company.

  ‘How’s your mam getting on?’ she asked. Mrs Doherty had suffered a stroke a month back. Aisling had dropped a bunch of flowers around a few weeks ago. It had been a shock to see her looking frail and well old, especially when she’d always been so sprightly. She hoped given time, she would get back to how she was before it happened.

  He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. ‘Alright. She’s definitely slowed down, and she gets frustrated you know, having to rely on me or Dad to take her everywhere. The doctor’s not given her the all clear to drive yet.’

  ‘Give her my love, won’t you?’

  ‘I will do. And what about your mam—is she enjoying being by the sea?’

  It was a sign they were getting older Aisling thought, them asking after each other’s

  mammy’s like so. There was a time it didn’t seem all that long ago, they’d have been moaning how banjaxed they were after Thursday night’s rave up.

  ‘Ah, she loves it Quinn. I swear everything in her wardrobe is nautical stripes these days, and she’s even taken to wearing boat shoes. I never thought I’d see my mammy in flats. Fair play to her she’d look a bit odd in her striped tops and white pants with a pair like this on her feet.’ She gestured to her impractical footwear.

  ‘The thing is she’s never even been on a boat other than the Dún Laoghaire to Holyhead ferry. Mind you I’ve heard her making noises about sailing lessons so, it’s only a matter of time.’ Aisling shook her head. ‘She’s gone a bit mad taking up art classes and joining everything from the golf club to bowls. Oh, and she’s on about the yacht club too now. She’s managed to slot Moira and me into her busy calendar for lunch tomorrow.’

  Quinn smiled gently. ‘She’s a good woman your mam, and to be fair now she nursed your poor dad until the end. Losing someone you expected to spend your retirement with would change your perspective on things. I expect she needs to keep herself busy.’

  ‘When did you get so wise?’ Aisling’s eyes prickled unexpectedly with tears and she blinked them away. She didn’t want to stand here snivelling in Quinn’s busy kitchen but Dad’s death, even though it had been a blessed relief when the time came was still raw and the pain snuck up on her when she least expected it. For Mammy to have grabbed life by the horns with quite as much vigour as she had was a shock too. She’d no desire to spend the rest of her days mouldering in O’Mara’s with her memories she’d said. Then she’d signed on the dotted line for a modern two-bedroom apartment with views out over Howth Harbour.

  ‘I don’t know about wise,’ Quinn said, his eyes flicking over to the kitchen hand who was taking advantage of his boss being occupied, to check his mobile phone instead of cracking on with the chopping of vegetables. ‘Observant maybe.’

  ‘You’re that alright, you never did miss much. Remember when you told me that Diarmud and Orla from our old college gang had the hots for each other?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And I said you needed your eyes checking because Orla fancied Diarmud about as much as I liked Bono.’ Aisling could never understand what all the fuss was about where the Irish rocker was concerned. It was something she’d been verbal about after a few pints of Guinness from time to time.

  ‘And now they’re married.’

  ‘With four children, no less.’

  They both laughed.

  Paula pushed past calling out an order.

  ‘Does your dinner on the house offer still stand? Because I’m due to catch up with Leila and I was eyeing the slow cooked Guinness and beef stew on the board out the front before I came in.’

  ‘Of course! Let me know a time, and I’ll make sure we’ve got a table.’

  ‘Thanks Quinn and you’ll join I us I hope,’ she said before adding, ‘It’d be good to sit down and have a proper natter. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘I’d like that. Its’ been too long since we three had a catch up. It was good to see you Aisling. Take care now. Remember me to your mam too.’

  ‘And me to yours. Oh, and Quinn—,’

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  ‘Be sure and have a shave tonight won’t you?’

  ‘What? Are you not keen on my rugged Brad Pitt, Fight Club look? All the girls love him.’

  ‘You’re more a Ronan Keating type than Brad Pitt.’

  ‘Ah well, the girls love him too.’

  Aisling grinned, there was a time when she’d been smitten with Quinn Moran ba
ck in their college days. She still had a soft spot for him, it was something she’d learned to live with because he’d never looked at her in that way. She never let on how she felt for fear of ruining their friendship. Then she’d gone abroad for work needing to put some space between him and her mixed-up feelings. All of that was a lifetime ago, ancient history. ‘Bronagh, sends her best. And remember to shave!’ She mimicked shaving her jawline before turning and exiting out the swinging doors.

  Aisling waved goodbye to Alasdair. She had to laugh hearing him tell a snappily dressed customer that he was sure they’d met each other before, when they’d both been gentry landowners in the seventeenth century.

  ͠

  Quinn watched Aisling leave, a wistful look on his face. Despite his swagger, there was only one girl he wanted to love him, but it had never occurred to her to look at him in that way. His love for Aisling had been a slow burn on his part. He’d been aware she was gorgeous but still their relationship had begun platonically with a friendship formed at college. They got around in the same group and all had a great craic together. Then the realisation had hit one night as they neared graduation, somewhere along the way his feelings had taken root and grown into something deeper.

  It was a million little things, like the way she tossed her head back and laughed, the slight dimpling in her cheek when she smiled. The sparkle in her eyes when she told a story or the way she’d leap off her stool to do the actions whenever the Macarena came on.

  He could have said something back then on one of their many nights out, but he was scared. If she didn’t feel the same way, he’d lose her friendship because there’d be no going back to the way things were once he’d crossed that line. So he said nothing.

  ‘Quinn, the water’s boiling away on the potatoes.’

  He jerked out of his reverie and did what he always did after he’d seen Aisling, threw himself back into his work.

  Chapter 10

  Aisling dragged her heels all the way up St Stephen’s Green, feeling like Mr Fox as she furtively scanned the faces heading towards her. All three storeys of O’Mara’s loomed over her and she was relieved to have reached the guest house with no sighting of Marcus. She stood outside staring at the window box with its profusion of purple and yellow pansies, debating whether she should try to sneak a peek in through the windows. The problem was solved for her when the door opened and Mr Peterson, camera in hand appeared. ‘I forgot this,’ he said in his posh Queen’s English, as he held the door for her. She had no choice but to venture inside.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You and Mrs Peterson be sure to have a lovely afternoon.’

  ‘We will, thank you dear.’

  ‘There you are!’ Bronagh’s jet black head with its telltale zebra stripe at the roots bobbed up from behind the computer, her brown eyes rimmed with a generous application of black liner were ginormous and round. ‘You’ll never guess who had the brass neck to bowl in here while you were out.’

  ‘Let me take a wild stab in the dark. Marcus?’

  Bronagh’s eyes shrank back to their normal size. ‘Have you seen him then?’

  ‘No, well yes, but from a safe distance and he didn’t see me. He was crossing Baggot Street, so I guessed this was where he was heading. I went and hid in O’Brien’s.’

  ‘If I’d known you were ducking in there, I would have got you to pick me up one of their chicken wraps, they’re lovely.’ She looked down at the plate next to the keyboard on which a sad looking sandwich triangle sat. ‘I don’t even like tomato, but its low calorie.’

  ‘Bronagh, food was the last thing on my mind. What did you say to him?’

  ‘I told him you’d gone to live in an ashram in India.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘I’d have liked to. I’d have liked to tell him to feck off too, excuse my French but, after what he did—,’

  ‘Bronagh, just tell me what you said.’

  She picked up her sandwich. ‘I told him you were out doing errands and wouldn’t be back in until later. And, I might have told him you were out tonight too. I didn’t want him thinking you spend your nights sitting up there,’ she pointed to the ceiling, ‘pining for him.’

  ‘I don’t.’ She did. ‘But thanks.’ She couldn’t stop herself asking, ‘How did he seem?’

  ‘Not his usual Cock o’ the walk self.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Aisling do not feel sorry for the man. He doesn’t deserve it.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’ That much was true at least. ‘I’m going to head upstairs for a bit, make a few phone calls while it’s quiet. I’ll leave you to your tomato sandwich.’

  Bronagh muttered something about soggy bread and feckless men under her breath as Aisling powered up the stairs, she’d phone Leila now while she was on her mind. Besides, she needed to offload her news on someone who’d helped pick up the pieces after he left.

  ͠

  ‘Good afternoon, Love Leila Bridal Planning, Leila speaking.’

  ‘Leila it’s me.’

  ‘Who? I don’t recognise that voice?’

  ‘Don’t be an eejit. I know it’s been a while. I just saw Marcus.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Feck.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘He looked the same. I was hoping he might have turned into a short fat garden gnome but he hasn’t.’ Aisling curled up on her favourite chair. It was dappled with pools of sunlight from the window behind it and she filled her friend in on her last few hours.

  ‘Think Bono, Ash. I can’t believe the nerve of the man. Why’s he back now?’

  ‘Well, there’s something I haven’t told you. I haven’t told anybody. He’s been writing to me.’

  ‘Aisling. You’re a soft touch so you are. I hope you haven’t replied.’

  ‘No, but that’s the thing if I had, I mean if I’d spelled it out there wasn’t going to be a second chance he might have stayed in Cork. Oh Leila what am I going to do? I don’t trust myself to be around him. I’ll either rage at him, or sob and I don’t know what would be worse.’

  ‘Definitely the sobbing, run with the rage. Tell him the truth Ash, tell him how much he hurt you, how he broke your trust and it can’t be fixed.’ Her friend’s tone was steely.

  But could it? Aisling wondered. What if he meant what he’d been saying in his letters? What if she were to forgive him and try again?

  ‘Look, I’m sorry Ash but I have to go, I’ve a Bridezilla to meet in fifteen minutes and she’s already teetering on the edge. She went overboard with the teeth whitening and her poor fiancé is going to have to wear sunglasses on their big day.’

  ‘Tell her to drink lots of coffee and red wine between now and then.’

  They both sniggered.

  ‘Before you go, the other reason I rang was to invite you to dinner, on Quinn at Quinn’s. When are you free?’

  ‘As incredible as it might seem, my social calendar is surprisingly empty aside from attending other people’s weddings. How about Sunday?’

  ‘Seven?’

  ‘See you then.’

  Aisling hung up. The three bed roomed space, with its kitchen and a large living area had always seemed full to the brim when they were growing up, despite the generous proportions. Right now though it just seemed empty and full of echoes.

  The apartment had once upon a time, in the Georgian’s heyday, been the top floor servant quarters. The O’Mara’s had been quite well-to-do back then, but those days were long gone and it was hard to imagine leading such a pampered life now. Aisling spied Moira’s dressing gown. It was in a crumpled heap at the end of the sofa, her breakfast bowl and coffee mug abandoned on the coffee table. It was a lifestyle her sister with her penchant for not picking up after herself, would adapt well to.

  It had been her grandparents who’d converted the many rooms into a guest house. Hard times had hit, and it was the only way to keep the grand old building in the family. When they’d died, it had passed down the line to her father, an
only child and he’d taken up the reins.

  She was too small to remember a time when she hadn’t called the Manor house home. She loved it. The rooms possessed an olde-worlde charm with their myriad of nooks and crannies, even the dumb waiter was still in working order. It ran all the way from the basement kitchen to their apartment and had been a favourite hiding place as a child. Most of all though, she loved the view from their living room to the bustling street below and the peaceful Green beyond.

  Her eyes settled on the bureau drawer and she unfurled herself from the chair feeling an almost magnetic pull toward it. She wandered over and retrieved the key on automatic pilot as she unlocked the drawer. She stared at the bundle of letters for a moment before picking them up. Sitting down at the table, she opened the last one Marcus had sent her.

  She knew the sentiments by heart, they all said variations of the same thing. He was sorry. He should never have left her. The biggest regret of his life was not having the courage to marry her but the biggest cliché of them all was Marcus had gotten cold feet.

  Her eyes misted over as she read over the words she’d already read time and time again.

  Chapter 11

  One year earlier or, thereabouts

  ‘Breathe in Aisling. I’m wondering if you should have gone for size twelve,’ Leila said wriggling the zipper slowly up Aisling’s back.

  Aisling gulped in air and held her tummy in as tightly as she could. ‘No, I’ve still got two weeks to lose a few pounds. I’ll stop sniffing around Quinn’s kitchen and I might try the soup diet. I like a bit of leek and potato soup.’ She looked at her maid of honour. She was a picture in the soft blue, almost grey dress she’d picked out for her bridesmaids. The colour suited Leila’s light blue eyes, and blonde hair. It was down around her shoulders now but on the day it would be worn up.

  Moira who’d wanted her, Leila and Roisin to wear her favourite colour lilac was sitting in the chair in the corner of the expansive plush dressing room of Ivory Bridal Couture. She looked bored as she fiddled with her phone. She was always on the thing, thumb frantically pushing buttons. Aisling couldn’t see the attraction of always being contactable and had not succumbed to a mobile phone. Meanwhile, Roisin who’d carefully relayed her measurements over the phone was arriving in Dublin next week and would have her final fitting then. She’d wanted pink dresses, but Aisling had stuck to her guns because as soon as she’d laid eyes on the simple, blue silk cowl neck dress she’d fallen in love. Besides, the colour would look well on all three of them.