‘Thank God we didn’t take out a mortgage in Spain, at least we have that asset behind us,’ Austen said, grey faced. ‘You know, Anna, there’s going to be no soft landing for the economy no matter what those fools of politicians are saying. We’re in for a hell of a depression. This is the start of it.’
‘Don’t say that, Austen, are you sure the money’s gone? Can’t we become creditors and get some of it back?’ She handed him his mug of tea.
‘I can tell you here and now, we’re not going to get one cent back.’ Austen’s jaw was taut with anger. ‘And we’re only in the penny-halfpenny place. I know people who’ve invested a million and more in that bloody company.’
‘Who?’
‘The Kingstons did. And Ed and Maura Reilly whacked five hundred K in. His lump sum.’
‘His whole lump sum?’ Anna was aghast.
‘Yeah. I told him to go easy, spread it out a bit. But he wouldn’t listen to me. And of course the stockbrokers were egging him on, the greedy, corrupt, bastards. I bet they knew it was on the slide when we bought in, listening to what’s on the news. No wonder they were piling on the pressure. They got their big whack of commission.’
‘Look, let’s meet the accountant next week and have a chat and see if we can salvage anything—’
‘It’s gone, Anna, one hundred thousand smackers of hard work down the drain.’ He exhaled. ‘Down the drain,’ he repeated, incredulously.
‘OK, let’s park it for the time being. They’ll be home soon with the baby. Let’s not let this spoil our happiness in our new grandson,’ she urged, putting her arms around him, feeling sick to her stomach.
‘Easier said than done,’ he retorted. ‘God I feel such a fool. But it came so highly recommended.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘The calibre of the investors was impeccable. It was supposed to be a blue chip company. What the hell went wrong?’
‘Look, think of the positives. We own our own home and the property in Spain. We have bank shares. We have savings in bonds in the post office and we have your pension and an income from my business. We’re doing more than OK.’
‘I suppose,’ he conceded. ‘But it’s bloody hard to swallow that that amount of money has just gone nowhere.’
‘I know. Half of it was mine,’ she reminded him. ‘At least it wasn’t a hundred thousand each!’
‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Austen said glumly. ‘OK, let’s park it as you say and make a fuss of Tara and the baby.’ He slumped back on the sofa.
‘And not a word to anyone.’
‘Yes boss.’ Her husband managed a half smile and she took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly, wishing she could get her hands on the bloody stockbroker who had urged them to invest in the ‘sure fire’ deal.
Just when they had been set to enjoy their retirement, this had to happen. There was always something to worry about, Anna thought ruefully, hoping Austen wouldn’t dwell too much on their monetary loss and let it spoil the new joy that had come in their life.
‘Now it’s like this, Chloe, your mother and I have just suffered a big financial loss on our investments. One hundred thousand euros, to be precise,’ Austen said dourly. ‘And while we are delighted to pay for your wedding and give you some money towards a house, you have to cut back and be realistic. I know you’re sending the invitations out this week. I want you and Will to go through everything with a fine toothcomb and cut out silly frivolities or else pay for them out of your own pockets. We’ll pay for the horse-drawn carriage and red carpet into the church and of course the drinks reception and the meal.’ Austen’s tone brooked no argument.
Chloe gave a gasp of dismay. ‘You lost all that money, in investments. OMG! How?’
‘A company we had invested some of our pension in went belly up. There’s a big downturn worldwide, Chloe. There are property crashes and job losses on the cards. I’d think carefully about spending a fortune on one day, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘What a bummer,’ she groaned.
‘Indeed,’ agreed Anna, not sure if Chloe was referring to the loss of her parents’ savings or having to cut back on the wedding. ‘Now why don’t we go through the invite list and pare it back to those you really want at the wedding, those we feel we should invite, or to whose family weddings we’ve been invited, and those whom you wanted to be at the wedding because you just wanted to show off a bit.’ She grinned at her daughter’s indignant expression.
‘I’ll leave you women to it.’ Austen made his escape.
‘I wasn’t going to show off, Mum,’ Chloe said indignantly.
‘Ah go on, why are you thinking of inviting Marianne Fitzgerald and her bloke? You don’t particularly like her.’
‘Well, Johnny is nice, and we do hang around with them,’ Chloe said sulkily.
‘They can come to the afters,’ Anna said firmly. ‘Come on, let’s go through the list and get rid of some altogether, and demote the likes of Marianne and Johnny to the afters do. As Dad said, we’re delighted to pay for the wedding but things have changed and we don’t have money to scatter about.’
Subdued, Chloe sat down beside her to scale down the day she had dreamed of since she was a little girl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
December
ANNA / AUSTEN
‘You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,’ Austen said proudly, gazing with admiration at the vision before him.
Chloe, dressed in a sumptuous gold brocade and tulle gown, looked like a medieval princess. An A-line-style dress with fitted sleeves that grew wide at the bottom and were trimmed with white faux fur was accessorized with a rich crimson sash that fitted snugly around Chloe’s tiny waist. The neckline, crimson and gold, adorned with glittering diamanté crystals, showed off the pearl- and diamond-encrusted cross that Anna had worn on her own wedding day.
The veil falling from a diamanté barrette that held Chloe’s upswept chignon gave her the ethereal look that she’d been striving for.
‘Thanks, Daddy,’ Chloe beamed, thrilled with herself, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
‘Right then, Conor and I’ll head over to the church to join Tara and the flower girls,’ Anna said, amused that her daughter hadn’t a hint of nerves. This was her day and she was looking forward immensely to being the centre of attention. But then Chloe had always enjoyed being the centre of attention, Anna thought fondly. It came with being the youngest, she supposed.
‘Good luck, little sis, I’ll be the one heckling when they ask is there any reason for the marriage not to go ahead. I’ll be telling Will to run for his life.’ Conor, a strapping six foot two, towered over his youngest sister. He gave her a kiss, high-fived Austen and laid an arm around his mother’s shoulder.
‘Do you want a piggyback?’ he teased. ‘I don’t know how you can walk in them things.’ He indicated her elegant, cream high-heel sling-backs.
‘I can manage fine, thank you,’ Anna grinned at him, delighted that he was home from Canada. In one way Chloe’s unexpected Christmas wedding had worked out very well as it was the first time the whole family had been together in over a year. Had she got married in the summer as planned, Conor might not have made it home.
‘Thanks for everything, Mum, and Dad, it’s going to be the most beautiful wedding ever,’ Chloe said gratefully, tucking her arm into her father’s. Austen looked exceedingly handsome in his charcoal grey morning suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean midriff. His tan and tight haircut emphasized his rugged good looks, and Anna couldn’t help but be proud of her beloved husband. She straightened his tie and looked at him admiringly.
‘See ya later, ya sexy ride,’ she whispered in his ear and he laughed and pinched her ass underneath her coat.
‘I heard that. Get a room,’ groaned Conor.
‘Couldn’t think of anything I’d prefer to do more,’ Anna said smartly. ‘Come on before my hormones get the better of me.’
‘Mum!’ chided Chloe, giggling. ‘That’s so inappropr
iate in front of your kids.’
‘Do you hear them, Austen? Wait until they see us on the dance floor. Dirty Dancing will have nothing on us.’ Anna winked at her husband as her son escorted her out of the room.
Sharp fingers of arctic air stung her ears and nose as they crunched along the frosty, curving gravel drive to the little chapel that lay in the grounds of the grand, ivy-clad country house that they had chosen to hold the wedding in.
Knots of guests were gathered outside, and a hum of chat and laughter lifted Anna’s spirits. Now that it was all happening and everything was in place she felt some of the tension she’d carried for the past few months ease away. The arched doorway, dressed in pine boughs laced with creamy winter jasmine, led into a red and cream-tiled narthex. A bank of scarlet poinsettias and flickering cream candles on a side table which held the marriage ceremony booklets gave a Christmassy air.
‘Very, very classy, Anna, and you look stunning,’ Breda greeted her with a kiss as Mary hugged Conor and Yvonne took a photo of them.
‘Thanks. It’s a Marie Forkin design. I fell in love with the colour,’ Anna said, doing a twirl in her beautifully fitted cerise dress, with a simple boat neckline, under the matching tailored coat.
‘Very slimming, too,’ Mary complimented.
‘That’s the Spanx. I swear to God I nearly pulled a muscle in my back trying to get into the friggin’ thing,’ Anna grinned. ‘Sorry for dragging you all the way here the day after Stephen’s Day.’ She felt suddenly carefree. The girls were here, her wing women. There was nothing more she could do now except enjoy herself.
Tara emerged from the church, a glorious goddess in her pagan-style bridesmaid’s dress of rich emerald green with a gold sash at the waist, and a gold trim on the sleeves and neck. ‘I got the five minutes warning, everybody better get inside. The horse-drawn carriage has arrived up at the house,’ she announced to the assembled guests.
A frisson of anticipation rippled among them and they made their way into the church, sliding into the gleaming, polished pews as the organist played ‘In the Deep Midwinter’.
‘I’ll stay with Tara until they arrive, you go in out of the cold and sit beside Granddad,’ Conor offered, flattening out a wrinkle in the red carpet that led down the step to where the bridal carriage would come to a halt.
‘Right, see you in a minute,’ Anna agreed, turning to make her way up the holly-wreathed aisle to where her father sat with her brother and sister-in-law, and a niece and nephew.
It had worked out rather nicely, thought Anna, waving at an aunt and uncle, and stopping to have a quick word with Will’s parents. The church was just large enough to accommodate family and close friends, and the overflow of guests was ensconced in the ballroom in the main house, watching on a big screen.
She knew some people were miffed not to be in the church, but she didn’t care. Small and intimate was much more desirable than the big palaver that would have taken place if Chloe had got the wedding she originally wanted. And crucially, now, because of their financial debacle, the wedding had worked out less expensive than they’d feared.
She took her place in the pew beside her father and he squeezed her hand. ‘I remember the day I walked you up the aisle. It only seems like yesterday,’ he murmured.
‘I know. And without half the fuss of what goes on today, and we turned out great,’ she smiled at him, wishing her mother was there to be at his side. ‘Mam would have liked this church, it’s like the one you got married in.’
‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ her dad remarked as the organist began to play the wedding march and a rustle of expectancy shivered along the congregation.
Hearing the music swell to a thundering crescendo, Anna’s throat constricted and two big tears plopped down her cheeks. She glanced across at Mary – who was Chloe’s godmother – and Yvonne, knowing they’d be bawling too, and caught an answering tear-stained wink from Mary while Yvonne delved into her bag for a tissue.
Chloe wafted past on Austen’s arm, turning to smile at Anna, and she was glad that her daughter had got a wedding that would make her happy, knowing that her and Will’s future would be rocky for the foreseeable future with all that chaos and uncertainty that was battering the economy. Her new son-in-law looked so proud and happy when Austen placed Chloe’s hand in his, she couldn’t help but be reassured that Chloe had found a fine young man to share her life with.
‘You did great, and you look great,’ she whispered to Austen, slipping her hand into his when he sat in beside her, the first part of his duties accomplished.
‘Right back at you, Anna, you look beautiful and the church looks fantastic,’ he complimented, squeezing her hand tightly as the priest invited them all to stand.
The words of the ceremony floated over her, bringing many memories to mind, and she had to struggle not to let her emotions get the better of her when the priest pronounced Chloe and Will man and wife. Knowing what she was feeling, Austen leaned down during the applause and murmured, ‘One down, two to go, yaaay!’ and winked at her, making her laugh. If Chloe and Will were as happy as she and Austen were, they would be doing very well indeed.
‘Ooohhh were we not good enough for the church?’ Jeananne Mangan chirruped, glass of champagne in her hand, as the guests mingled during the drinks reception.
‘’Fraid not,’ said Anna lightly. ‘The hoi polloi had to watch it on the big screen.’
‘We had planned to go to the villa in Antibes for Christmas,’ the other woman remarked – decidedly unimpressed with that putdown – ‘but we felt it would be rude not to come to Chloe’s wedding. She being such friends with our pair.’
‘Well honestly, Jeananne, you should have gone. It wouldn’t have bothered us in the slightest. You could have been enjoying lovely warm weather instead of this arctic chill,’ Anna retorted. She wasn’t in the humour for the other woman’s passive-aggressive snide comments.
‘Oh well you put yourself out for friends, don’t you? Even if we were relegated to the benches.’ Jeananne gave a saccharine smile.
‘Excuse me a sec, Jeananne, I just want to make sure Dad has a drink.’ Anna could see the expressions on Yvonne and Mary’s faces when they heard the other woman’s bad-mannered acerbity, and she thought she might laugh.
‘We practically had front row seats, lucky us, but then we’ve been friends with Anna for a long time, like sisters really,’ Yvonne chipped in airily, handing a glass of punch to Mary, who turned away to hide her amusement.
‘How many of those have you had?’ sniffed Jeananne derisively.
‘Not as many as your Roger. He’s sampling the eggnog, punch and champers. He’ll have a mighty hangover in the morning, Jeananne,’ Yvonne riposted and Mary had to walk away and giggle into her drink, as Jeananne ‘we have a villa in Antibes’ Mangan was rendered uncharacteristically speechless.
‘You’re so deliciously bitchy,’ Mary chuckled when Yvonne rejoined her.
‘I wasn’t letting that wagon get away with her impertinent rudeness. Who does she think she is?’ Yvonne was unapologetic.
‘Look at her tottering around on her Dolces, she’ll be lucky she doesn’t trip and break her ankle . . . or her neck.’
‘And the pants suit is “Stella”, I heard her telling someone earlier. Trust Jeananne to wear white to a wedding.’ Mary helped herself to a canapé.
‘I bet you’re giving out about Jeananne.’ Breda joined them. ‘Whatever she said to you, Yvonne, I thought you were going to pour your punch over her.’
‘Oh don’t tempt me,’ Yvonne laughed. ‘That would ruin the “Stella” outfit.’
‘I just don’t get Stella McCartney as a designer. None of her pants ever fit well. They’re always really baggy around the crotch and they make you look huge. Mind you, Jeananne would need baggy pants around that pear-shaped arse of hers,’ Mary scorned as the other pair erupted into guffaws.
‘What are you laughing at?’ Anna came over and raised her glass to them.
>
‘Mary was just being a bitch,’ explained Yvonne grinning.
‘Kettle and pots, madam, sure I’m only trottin’ after you,’ laughed Mary, filling their friend in.
‘She’s a real boot isn’t she? I can tell you she won’t be coming to any more MacDonald weddings, that’s for sure,’ Anna declared. ‘I never met anyone more pass remarkable.’
‘Downright rude, I’d call it,’ retorted Breda, helping herself to another glass of champers. ‘Cheers, girls.’
‘I wish I could sit at your table, we’d have such a laugh,’ Anna sighed. ‘I better go and do my mother of the bride duty. See you when I see you.’
Several hours later, when the meal was over and the speeches delivered, while they were waiting for the dance floor to be set up, Anna, Austen and Tara were sitting having a quiet drink together when Roger Mangan ambled over to them. Anna groaned when she saw him coming. As usual, their golfing acquaintance was three sheets to the wind, his ruddy visage and glassy little marble eyes a sure sign that he’d been over-indulging.
‘Good wedding, Austy, I was just saying to the Foleys over there what a clever move it was to host it in a small venue. Saving a fortune by having to cut down on the guest list, to accommodate the space. No flies on you, boyo, although I heard you got hammered with ISTC. Just as well you saved a few thou on the wedding so,’ he slurred. ‘Let me give you a word of advice; stash your dough offshore, in Panama. Taib Carrell Investments. Safe as houses and no tax,’ he winked. ‘Don’t say I don’t help out my friends, even if we’re not good enough to sit in the church.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, Roger, very kind of you,’ Austen said calmly, laying a restraining hand over Anna’s. Her eyes were sparking with anger.
‘Oh here you are,’ exclaimed Jeananne shrilly. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to.’
‘Just giving Austen some financial advice,’ Roger bellowed.
‘Oh yes, I heard you made a bad investment,’ Jeananne said condescendingly. ‘And I heard the Kingstons got hit for a million. There won’t be a peep out of her down in the golf club now, I’d say. She does love to go on and on about the place in Sandy Lane.’
Orange Blossom Days Page 23
