Are You Ready?

by Amanda Hearty

  ‘Sarah, don’t let your talent go to waste. Your work has really evolved, and I think maybe you have found your niche. I’d be delighted to exhibit your work,’ Maggie encouraged. She went on: ‘Well, you have a serious think about it. You could show here, let us sell your work. If you worked part-time for me, that would give you more hours to paint. Think about it, Sarah. Listen I’ve to go now, as hubby will be waiting! But I’ll be back in Ireland again in a few weeks’ time to attend a friend’s sixtieth party, so maybe we can sit down and have a proper chat and see what your plans are then.’

  And with that Maggie waved goodbye to her gallery and was gone out the door.

  Sarah sat there for another hour, stunned, staring into space, dreaming about her future. Maggie McCartney, one of the top gallery owners, was offering to show and sell her work! Maggie was right, she shouldn’t let any of her love for art be wasted, but she knew painting needed your full commitment, and even though she might manage to work the odd day at the gallery, she couldn’t work full-time, or even part-time. She knew when you were in a creative flow, you just had to go with it, and serving wine at exhibitions wouldn’t help. But then Sarah remembered what Clodagh had said about getting loans and mortgages from a bank. I’ll never be able to move away from home if I give art a go, Sarah thought, as she locked the gallery and headed home. She fretted over whether to become an artist, or stay in the gallery and buy her own place all the way home. It was going to be a tough decision.

  As she walked in the door at home, and took her suit jacket off, the wall in their hall caught her eye. On it her mum hung framed family photos: there was a photo of Sarah’s parents on their wedding day, another of her parents at Mel’s college graduation, one of their whole family in Italy in summer, one of Mel and John on their wedding day, and another of Sarah, Mel, their mum and baby Fiona on her christening day. But it wasn’t these older photos that caught her eye, it was the brand-new frame in the middle that did. Right bang in the centre of all these proud family photos was Sarah’s wedding invitation, framed and now hanging for the world to see. Her mum had been so proud that she must have rushed off to buy a new frame to show off Sarah’s work. Alongside the photos of Mel and her achievements now hung Sarah’s invite. Excited, she headed up to bed, but couldn’t sleep. Between the new painting in the hall and Maggie’s encouraging words, Sarah’s head was filled with dreams of paints, sketches, canvasses and gallery exhibitions.

  91

  Ali was one stressed fiancée. She was in Kilkenny for the weekend, not only for her hen party, which was taking place that night, but also because her two sisters Jill and Kate had yet to make a final decision on their bridesmaids’ dresses. Her sisters had planned her hen for the Saturday, but Ali had driven down home the night before, so all three of them could get up and shop early, before all her friends arrived in Kilkenny for the big night. So they were now in a very fashionable boutique, with Jill in one changing room, Kate in the other, and Ali running between the two rooms trying to stop them fighting. Ali’s mum was sitting in a large chair, with a cup of tea in her hand.

  ‘Ali, I think we should let them wear their tracksuits. I’ve wasted enough time with those two. I mean, God help us all, when they actually have to get married and pick their own wedding dresses, I’ll have a stroke.’

  Ali sighed. Her mum was right, the whole idea of being a bridesmaid had gone to their heads, and both sisters seemed to be competing for best bridesmaid ever, yet somehow not actually helping Ali at all. Ali was looking at bridal shoes when she heard Jill shout.

  ‘You only picked this dress because you know it won’t suit me. You want me to look fat on the day, Kate.’

  ‘I want you to look fat? You are the one wanting us to wear yellow corsets, which you know will clash with my fair hair,’ Kate shouted back.

  Ali looked at the boutique’s owner, but she didn’t seem fazed.

  ‘I have seen it all before,’ she said softly as she poured Ali’s mum more tea.

  ‘I can’t take this, Ali, my nerves …’ Her mum sighed.

  Ali raced towards the dressing rooms.

  ‘What is wrong with you girls?’ she shouted.

  ‘Jill wants to show me up on the big day,’ Kate shouted.

  Jill was about to answer back when Ali turned on them both. ‘I picked you both as my bridesmaids because you are my sisters and I love you, but let me tell you this, if you don’t start realizing that it’s mine and Robin’s day, not yours, then I’ll ask mum to be my bridesmaid. Now, stop arguing and get into those dresses.’ And with that she walked out of the dressing room and grabbed some tea from her mum.

  She heard nothing for five minutes, but then suddenly her two sisters appeared out of the dressing room, looking sheepish yet stunning in two matching ballet-length pink satin dresses.

  ‘Do you like them, Ali?’ asked Jill in a whisper.

  Ali knew her sisters were scared of her, and although she sensed it wouldn’t last for long, she decided to exploit it a bit longer.

  ‘I do, but I want to see the champagne version of it on both of you, too.’

  Kate seemed about to protest, but abruptly stopped, and walked back into the dressing room.

  ‘Well, Ali, it’s funny how well threats work on the two of them, isn’t it?’ her mum laughed.

  The girls appeared again in knee-length champagne dresses that had large white ribbons around the waist, and a high neckline.

  ‘I like those too, but I think the pink ones were nicer, try them again,’ Ali ordered.

  The girls turned wearily on their heels and reappeared a few minutes later, and when they did Ali knew the rose-pink ballerina dresses were the ones to go for. The girls looked stunning, and the fit of the dresses suited their now slimmed-down bodies. The cream waistline bow and matching cream satin shoes made them look so grown-up and beautiful. The girls also knew they looked good, and for once stopped fighting and gave each other a hug. The shop owner looked relieved and started to tot up how much the outfits, shoes and matching bags would cost. Ali didn’t have much time to celebrate finding the dresses, as she had booked to have her hair done in a local hairdresser’s, ready for that night’s hen party.

  She waved her sisters goodbye and headed towards the city centre, and only as she got comfortable in the hairdresser’s chair and told the stylist what she wanted done, did she realize that she was going on her hen in a few hours’ time. Her last official night out as a single girl! Weird, she thought, but as the hairdresser began to wash and then cut her hair, Ali forgot all about her hen and instead enjoyed having some time to herself, away from work, bridesmaids and wedding talk.

  92

  Ali, her two sisters, a few of her cousins, and twelve of her friends were all meeting at 6 p.m. in Kilkenny’s newest and hippest hotel. Her Dublin friends were all staying there for the night, and had heard the place had opened a fabulous cocktail bar. They were not wrong, the bar was amazing, and as Ali walked in she felt she had walked on to the set of Sex and the City. There were beautiful people and Manhattan cocktails everywhere. The bar was all glass, with funky chandeliers and oversized chairs, it was like something from a film. Ali was greeted by a cheer when she walked in, and she saw all her friends had reserved an area and were surrounded by cocktails and feather boas.

  ‘Well, Ali, I knew that L-plates wouldn’t be your style, but when we saw these pink feather boas last time we were in Dublin we had to stock up,’ laughed Jill. She was trying to be the perfect bridesmaid and sister by holding Ali’s bag, and at the same time struggling to take a picture of Ali being greeted by her friends and also ordering Ali a Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri.

  Ali settled into a comfy couch and looked around at her friends. She had invited a selection of her old school friends – who hadn’t had far to travel, as most of them still lived in Kilkenny – and then she had her Dublin friends, and girls she had met in college. She had agonized over whether to have her hen in Kilkenny or Dublin, but when all her Dublin friends
had said they would be only too happy to spend a night in such a fun city as Kilkenny Ali had been delighted and let Jill and Kate make the plans.

  So here they were having cocktails with their pink boas, swapping stories about how they had met Ali. They had dinner booked in an Italian at 9 p.m. Jill knew the owner, and so they had been given their own small function room upstairs, where they could make as much noise as they wanted. Ali had been nervous about the hen, as growing up near Kilkenny city she was well used to seeing hen and stag parties that looked tacky and messy and gave her city a bad name, but her friends had assured her that they knew she was a bit hesitant. They had promised: ‘No L-plates, or tacky veils!’

  Robin, on the other hand, had enthusiastically embraced his stag party in Edinburgh, and himself and twenty lads had taken off for Scotland the day before. Ali had received one text from him yesterday to assure her his eyebrows and hair were all still intact, but that the lads had taken all his clothes, and only allowed him to wear a clown outfit! Ben had actually texted Ali a photo of Robin earlier, and Ali had had to laugh at the photo of him at the bar in a polka-dot jumpsuit, a red curly wig, and big red sponge nose! She was glad he was having a good time, but still slightly nervous that he would end up chained to a lamppost naked in the middle of Edinburgh. But for tonight she had to forget about that, and get back to drinking and having a good time with the girls.

  She was on her fourth cocktail when Jill clapped to get everyone’s attention.

  ‘Now, Ali, we’ve a few surprises for you. A stripper!’

  Ali went pale, she had specifically said no strippers.

  ‘Only kidding, sis! I know that would be your worst nightmare, so we’ve some gifts for you instead.’ And with that Jill and Kate pulled out a large bag that had been hidden under a seat.

  Ali was surprised, she had thought her sisters were so preoccupied with their dresses and losing weight that organizing a dinner out tonight would have been enough. Kate stood up.

  ‘OK, sis, the first gift has taken us weeks, and it is due to your friends’ hard work.’

  ‘And ours,’ Jill added as she handed Ali a large thick rectangular parcel that looked like a book.

  Ali unwrapped the paper, and stared in shock. It was not a book, but what looked like a red-bound thesis, like the one she had had to submit when she was finishing college. Yet this one had on the front: ‘To Ali, aka the future Mrs Kenny … This is Your Life’. And like the old Eamon Andrews show, the red book was exactly what it said, a book all about her. Ali started flicking through the pages. It was filled with photos of her as a baby, as a child, in college and at the engagement party. It was also filled with stories and memories that each of her friends had typed up and submitted, along with some funny and embarrassing photos. Her sisters had put in pictures of her favourite food, drinks, TV programmes, films – even the movie stars she used to fancy! The whole book was just about her, it was amazing. They had even included copies of her Leaving Certificate results, her Girl Guide badges, and photos of the day she became a qualified solicitor. She had to laugh at all the photos of her with cows and chickens. Those farm photos made her look like a real country child, but she treasured them and appreciated how much time and effort must have gone into finding them.

  ‘Ali, you have no idea how much time we’ve spent scanning, typing and printing, trying to get that book ready. Mum and Dad were driven demented! It was hard trying to get everyone to send their bits about you in on time, and we didn’t have the book ready for the binders yesterday, but once we’d chosen the dresses today, we ran over there and got it done, thank God.’

  All Ali’s friends were dying to read the book, and see what memories and photos everyone else had included. Ali began to feel very emotional: she realized how good her friends and sisters were to have gone to all this trouble for her.

  After they had all had a good look through the book, Jill ordered more cocktails and got everyone’s attention.

  ‘OK, now it’s time for some of the fun gifts,’ she said. She started pulling out lots of little wrapped parcels.

  ‘Myself and Kate thought we would ask each of your friends to buy you a little inexpensive gift, something that would remind you of a funny or good time with them. And you have to guess which gift goes with which person!’

  Ali’s sisters handed her the first gift. It was a little toy cow and a pair of flip-flops. Ali didn’t know what it meant, or who it was from. And then it came to her: when she was eleven herself and her best friend Liz had decided to have a picnic on the farm, but because they had wanted it to be private they had wandered further and further from the farmhouse until they were in the neighbour’s fields. And then, as they set up their lunch of crisps and red lemonade, a bull had come out of nowhere and charged at them! Ali and Liz had manage to outrun the bull, and climbed over the fences to safety, but Liz had lost her brand-new sandals along the way and been in big trouble when she got home. Ali pointed to Liz, who was laughing so much she had tears rolling down her face!

  Next was a Take That CD and a bottle of sun lotion. Ali knew who this was: her old school friend Jenny. After their Leaving Certificate they had gone to Majorca on holiday and spent the whole time listening to Take That’s latest CD and sunbathing, although Ali had got badly burnt on the first day and looked like a lobster in every photo! After this there were gifts that made her laugh so much that she attracted the attention of the whole bar, who were all dying to know what was so funny. The girls tried to explain the gifts to the barman, but they were giggling too much. All the same, he still gave them free sparkling wine to celebrate Ali’s night.

  After a few more cocktails they all headed for dinner. The meal was gorgeous, and made even more special by the tablemats that Jill and Kate had got printed up: all old photos of Ali. The night was perfect, Ali felt so special and cared for by all her friends. They laughed and drank, and eventually ended up in a local nightclub and, as they danced to Beyoncé, Ali felt blessed to have such good sisters and friends. She only hoped that Robin was having such a good night too, and that he was still standing – even if he was wearing a clown suit!

  93

  Ben was just out of a big meeting with a client when he got a text from Nikki, asking if he wanted to meet up. Ben did like Nikki – she was great fun, gorgeous and so chatty – but he didn’t know if their relationship was going anywhere. I’ll reply later, he thought as he sat back down at his father’s desk, which was now his. It was amazing how quickly things had changed. In the last few days Ben had officially become the boss of the company, and he could see how differently the staff and clients now treated him. He was no longer Joe’s useless son, but a grown-up man running a small yet successful accountancy firm. As new letterheads, business cards and office signage got printed Ben really felt that there was no turning back, he was here to stay. Sometimes on the bus into work he felt like jumping off at Jeremy’s newspaper and offering to report on the latest football match, but he knew what he had to do, and looking after his father’s company was it. It wasn’t all bad, though. With his new increased salary Ben knew he would soon be able to buy a place of his own, but it depended on how his dad was doing. He couldn’t leave his mum alone with his father right now. His dad was still so weak, and would be for quite some time. His dad’s illness had changed Ben’s life hugely: not only was he now working as an accountant again, but his social life had been affected. He missed seeing his friends as much as he used to, but he hoped that could change as his dad recovered and he stopped feeling guilty every time he left the house.

  Ben turned on his computer and checked his emails. Most of them were from clients and colleagues, but there was one from his friend Philip saying that the lads had all taken up tag-rugby for the summer and even though Ben hadn’t been able to join earlier, did he want to play tonight, as one of them was pulling out due to a broken leg? Ben was delighted: getting back into rugby and seeing his friends would be great fun. He replied immediately and told Philip he was well
up for it.

  The rest of the day flew by and Ben was happy to head home and tell his dad that he had had another successful day at the office. Maura had gone out for a few hours, so Ben and Joe cooked dinner for themselves – steaks and mash. As they chatted about rugby, work and books Joe suggested they let Mango out of his cage for a few hours.

  ‘That poor parrot doesn’t get out half as much as it should.’

  Ben closed the kitchen door and windows and then let Mango free. The bird went mental with the freedom and flew all over the kitchen squawking and swooping around Ben and Joe. Joe couldn’t stop laughing, and Ben was delighted to see his dad enjoying himself. So much so that he didn’t hear his mum open the kitchen door and walk in.

  ‘Can you help me with these groceries, Ben?’

  ‘Mango!’ Ben and Joe both shouted together, but it was too late: the crazy bird had made a dive for the kitchen door, and as Maura had left the front door open so she could bring in the groceries, Mango headed right out of it.

  ‘Oh, Ben, quick! Do something,’ shouted Maura.

  She flung Ben her pink golf jacket.

  ‘Catch him in that. Run quickly, your dad will die if anything happens to that bird.’

  Ben ran out of the house, barefoot and just in shorts and an old T-shirt. He tried to keep his eyes firmly on the multicoloured bird, but it was hard as he also had to watch the road and pedestrians. Some local kids were fascinated by seeing Mango fly through the air, and the bird squawking crazily only encouraged them.

  ‘What is he trying to say?’ the kids asked.

  ‘Freedom, probably,’ Ben mumbled, as he tried to avoid them. He ran wildly down the road with his mum’s fluorescent pink golf jacket waving from one hand. Mango suddenly made a move to turn into Foxrock village, and at this stage Ben was well out of breath and his feet were killing him. Suddenly he heard a car beeping at him: he slowed down and saw it was Laura. She had oversized sunglasses on, and her long curly hair tied back, and looked great.