The Ludlow Ladies Society

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The Ludlow Ladies Society Page 27

by Ann O'Loughlin


  “I thought he was gone to the lake,” she said, tears of relief flowing down her face. “You are her, aren’t you, Molly’s mum?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am sorry about what happened to Molly.”

  Connie nodded, tears gurgling, rising inside her.

  The young woman, mindful she had raised ghosts, said she had better go.

  Understand. Forgive.

  Connie was walking back to her seat when she heard a step fast behind her.

  “Connie, can we talk?”

  Bill looked like he had not slept, his clothes crumpled, his hair tousled.

  “I came back yesterday, rang the bell . . .”

  “I didn’t hear. The Ludlow Ladies’ Society had their line dancing music blaring loud.”

  “I want to apologise, to say I understand everything. For my part, I found Molly and I lost her in the same few minutes.”

  Connie sat down, silently crying, tears pouring out of her. He knelt beside her, looking into her face.

  “I was outraged in my grief. I was only thinking of myself.” He cupped her face. “I understand. You did what you did, to survive.”

  She made to pull from him, but he would not let her.

  “I love you, Connie. Can we have a second chance?”

  “Do you really understand?”

  “I am in pain, I am angry, but not at you. I am grieving, but I understand. We can make it work.”

  A breeze swirled the light cherry blossom leaves around them. He gently picked two out of her hair.

  “Can you forgive me?” she asked.

  “There is nothing to forgive.”

  She leaned into him and he held her, like a father holds a tired child on his shoulder. After a while, he eased gently away. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet.

  They walked together along the yew walk, the sun shining across the paddocks, the daffodils swaying in the light breeze, three children playing hide and seek among the flower beds, Hetty busy cleaning the brass on the front door, Ludlow Hall busy on market day.

  Date: June 20, 2013

  Subject: THE LUDLOW LADIES’ SOCIETY

  Ludlow ladies,

  We are beyond thrilled to report on the huge success of the visit of the First Lady of the United States to Glendalough, Co. Wicklow.

  We are so proud of our small part in that success and beyond proud to have represented our community there.

  We are very happy to report that not only did Michelle Obama stop off at the exhibit stand of the Ludlow Ladies’ Society, but she chatted to our representative Eve Brannigan about Molly’s quilt and the delight of patchwork.

  Such an honour, and the occasion will go down as exceedingly important in the history of our humble society. It is the highlight of the year for us Ludlow ladies.

  For my own part, I had the honour of receiving an invitation to a private meeting with Mrs Obama and her two beautiful daughters. It was all hush-hush, but wonderful when one’s connections can produce the goods! It was quite bizarre: we talked about the nasty midges at Glendalough, which had no respect for the presidential party. I gave them the name of my favourite perfume, which I find to be a wonderful insect repellent, and they thanked me for the tip.

  Ludlow ladies, let us pledge all this new-found fame will not go to our heads and we will continue to serve our community, just as before.

  We are asking, please, for a very good turnout for the next meeting of the Ludlow Ladies’ Society at Ludlow Hall next Tuesday night. We are so looking forward to Eve giving us a detailed account of her wonderful adventure and tête-à-tête with the First Lady.

  As a sidenote, Jack Davoren has offered us space in the new Town Hall when it is rebuilt, but I, as chairwoman, turned him down. How a little bit of fame can lead to a major change of heart.

  Ludlow Hall has been good to us, and particularly in our hour of need. The Ludlow Ladies’ Society is not going to abandon Ludlow Hall now.

  Jack Davoren, in fairness, took the rejection well and said he would just have to put it in his pipe and smoke it.

  Indeed.

  Kathryn Rodgers,

  Chairwoman

  Letter from the Author

  A colorful patchwork memory quilt I stitched with my mother is the huge inspiration behind The Ludlow Ladies’ Society. I was a 15-year-old teenager with a whole summer ahead of me. When my mother Anne, a dressmaker suggested a memory quilt, I rolled my eyes. What I didn't know was over all the years she had meticulously stored spare fabric from the outfits, she had fashioned for her three daughters. She had ironed and carefully stored away swatches of fabric, which told the history of our lives.

  As we waded through the fabric, the memories flooded back and the making of the quilt became a giant labour of love. We worked side by side, precious moments when we laughed and sometimes cried. That patchwork quilt, the memory quilt of my childhood has travelled with me all over the world.

  Connie, Eve and Hetty, three women wrestling with the sadness and tragedies of the past sit down with the ladies of The Ludlow Ladies’ Society and stitch memory quilts. As they choose and cut the fabric and lay out their quilts, they confront secrets of the past and those in their hearts.

  I am constantly astounded at how strong and resilient women can be. Women hold each other up and support each other through thick and thin. That is what is happening here at Ludlow Hall. Yes, there is sadness, tragedy and grief, but there is also hope and some good laughs when the Ludlow ladies get together.

  My hope is when you close this book, you will be smiling, uplifted and proud of the great strength in all of us women. I would also be so happy if you found time to leave a short review of the book on Amazon or Goodreads. You can contact me and keep up with my news and new releases through the links below, and by signing up to my mailing list.

  @annolwriter on Twitter

  @annoloughlinbooks on Facebook

  Sign-up to my Mailing List For New Release Information

  Finally, if you haven’t already read my other books, I really hope you’ll take a look. To find out more about the books, please visit the links below:

  The Ballroom Café

  The Judge’s Wife

  Take care,

  Ann

 

 

 


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