You will see that the Book Mice have chosen a wonderful play to send you. This is a 1941 translation of Cyrano de Bergerac, by Edmond Rostand. I rather fell for this edition when I found it. It’s the story of the ultimate sacrifice the hero makes for the woman he loves. Sometimes we choose to lay aside our own wishes for the ones we love. Your letter reminded me of this story – and also a real one of my own.
I feel that now is the time to tell you about something that happened to me, many years ago. It is a secret I have held for over seventy years. I am trusting you to keep it, too.
Before your grandpa, there was another love in my life. An all-encompassing, passionate love, the like of which I never again experienced. And even though so many years have passed, I still think of him every day. Please be assured that I loved Grandpa George with all of my heart and I don’t regret a single moment of my life that I shared with him. But this love happened first.
When I was seventeen years old, I met Abel Flanagan at a village dance. He was the son of a local farmer and I had never seen him before that night. In our village, we had a Harvest Dance every year to celebrate the harvest being brought in successfully and for us young girls it was often the place we met our future husbands.
The irony is that I didn’t want to be there. I was headstrong and independent, even at that young age, and I didn’t think I needed a man in my life. I had watched my four sisters before me marry and lose any identity they had: I didn’t want that to happen to me. I dreamed of owning a bookshop and making my own way in the world – which is why I feel we are very much cut from the same cloth, Bea. But my best friend Lillian begged me to go: her father had said she could only attend if she had a companion. So, under duress, I went to the dance.
Abel was late arriving to the dance. He and his brothers had been held up in their father’s field bringing in the last of the barley crop. But when he did, my world changed.
He was six feet tall with thick, black hair and eyes the colour of sea-glass. I had never seen anyone so beautiful in my life and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He asked me to dance and my heart was beating so quickly I thought I would die in his arms. Does that shock you, darling? Forgive an old woman for being candid, but it’s important you understand how strong my emotions for him were, or else you will never fully appreciate what I tell you next.
I believe I fell in love that night, even though I hardly knew him. He could have asked anything of me and I would have given it to him. It was as if everything I thought I knew was wiped away in an instant and all I could see in my future was Abel Flanagan’s smile as we danced together.
He asked me to meet him the following Saturday and I agreed, knowing only too well that I couldn’t tell my parents about him. Your great-grandfather was a proud man with strict ideas about the kind of men his daughters should marry. My sisters married men of business: a grocer, a butcher, a bank manager and a grain merchant – all of whom fit the bill nicely. He would never have approved of a farmer’s son, even though several farmers in our community had become wealthy. My father had been born on a farm and vowed from an early age that no child of his would be forced to live the life he had endured there.
So, we met in secret: after I had supposedly gone to bed, I would climb out of my bedroom window and meet Abel just down the lane from my home. That is how it began – and how it continued for over a year.
I will tell you more next time. For now, know this: if I had known what fate had in store for us then, I would have had the courage of my convictions to tell my father I had chosen to spend my life with Abel. I would have wasted no time in marrying him. Because time was not on our side.
Live life for every minute, darling Bea. You never know when your world may change.
Fondest love,
Grandma Dot xxx
Bea turned the last page of the letter over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. Why had Grandma Dot withheld this part of her life from everyone? Bea – along with all of her family – had assumed that Grandpa George was Dot’s first love. To discover that her ninety-two-year-old grandmother had a secret past was a shock. But as she read the letter again, Bea felt honoured that Grandma Dot had chosen her to share it with.
What did she mean about sacrifice, though? She couldn’t be referring to Jake, surely? If anything, Bea could accept that she was being selfish: enjoying her time with Jake without any expectation of reciprocal feelings or giving anything back. How was that a sacrifice?
Grandma Dot said she would continue the story in her next letter. Until then, Bea would have to wonder what it meant – and deal with the discomfort it gave her …
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn
When Jake arrived at Hudson River Books nerves were beginning to get the better of him. Why had he agreed to this? Kids’ parties were hardly his speciality: even at Steinmann family gatherings he was the ‘Uncle Least Likely to be Picked’ by the tiny Steinmanns for their party games. It wasn’t that he didn’t get on with children; rather that he wasn’t altogether sure how they worked past a certain age. There was a window of opportunity between the ages of twelve months and three years when he officially rocked in their eyes, but as soon as they could really talk and think for themselves, Uncle Ed and Uncle Dan became flavour of the month. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why.
On that evidence, how was he going to be received by fifteen discerning eleven-year-olds?
He was considering how easy it would be to leave when a large slap on his back made him turn. Great. Bea’s hipster business partner friend was grinning at him from the sidewalk. What was his name? Ross? Reece?
‘Hey,’ he said shakily, frantically wracking his brain for the guy’s name.
‘Left the suit at home today, I see?’ There was a distinct note of mockery in his tone.
Jake forced himself to ignore it. This is playing into your insecurities about the party, he told himself firmly. Don’t attribute your own thoughts to this guy. ‘Yes. Yes, I did.’
‘Come in,’ Russ said. ‘But I’ll warn you, Bea’s like a whirling dervish in there.’ There was that smile again. Did they teach it to people in Brooklyn? Was it something the cool people used to gain dominance over everyone else?
He couldn’t leave. He’d made a promise to Bea. This party meant a lot to her and, as her friend, he wanted to support her. If that meant putting up with her self-righteous business partner, so be it. ‘Lead the way,’ he replied, flashing his most confident smile.
The transformation inside the bookstore was incredible. Swags of chiffon in shades of green hung from the high ceiling, giving the impression of sunlight dappling through a dense forest canopy. Tiny green and white lights were threaded through the fabric and looped along every shelf, shimmering as the chiffon moved with the passing of people through the store. Silk tree branch boughs hung down from the top of the bookshelves and woodland animals peeked out between gaps in the leaves. A smoke machine behind the counter pumped out puffs of white smoke in an impression of woodland mist, giving the whole space an ethereal quality. It was a child’s dream: breathtaking in its execution.
‘Do you like it?’
Jake smiled as Bea approached, dressed in a rich green velvet medieval-style dress, her red hair braided and fixed into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, from which a delicate, moss-green veil draped down her back. She looked every part the magical princess.
‘This place is stunning! The change is unbelievable.’
Bea flushed. ‘Thank you. There was a lot of teamwork to achieve this. Russ, Imelda and I were up till the early hours this morning putting it all together. Listen, thanks so much for volunteering to help. I know the prospect of so many kids is scary, but between us I think we’ll be fine.’
Jake gave a nonchalant shrug, hoping Bea couldn’t see the trepidation in his eyes. ‘Totally. So, I’m at your command, m’lady. You point me where you want me and I’ll be there.’
‘Such a gent,’
Russ smiled as he walked past.
Jake resisted the urge to respond. You’re here for Bea, not him.
‘I do actually have a bit of a costume for you, if you don’t mind,’ Bea ventured, a sheepish smile on her face. ‘But there’s absolutely no pressure to wear it. I thought it might be fun.’
A costume? Jake swallowed hard. Would smug hipster guy be dressing up, too? He considered how much Bea’s friendship meant to him: was it worth his humiliation in front of a whole bookstore of people he didn’t know? The last time he’d dressed up for anything was back in high school when he was roped into playing Romeo in the end of year production, mainly by virtue of the fact that he was the tallest and could remember the script. The memory of standing before his peers in bright red tights still haunted him …
But Bea was looking at him with such faith that he couldn’t disappoint her. This is the first major test of your friendship, Jake Steinmann. Survive this and you’ll survive anything …
‘Sure. Why not?’
To Jake’s immense relief, the costume Bea had selected for him was relatively manly and didn’t involve coloured tights – his biggest fear when she opened the box in the office at the back of the bookstore. Her choice was revealed to be a midnight blue cloak and gold-edged green tunic with a pair of black trousers: most respectable by costume standards.
‘I think I work this well,’ he grinned, as Bea reached up to tie the gold braids on his cloak. Suddenly, their closeness hit him: the gentle touches of her fingers on the bare skin of his neck caused shivers to wriggle across his shoulders and he was acutely aware of the undulating pulse in his throat.
‘There. Perfect.’ Her voice was distinctly softer and Jake noticed that her gaze drifted to his chest as she spoke. ‘Would you – um – would you set up a tray of juice on the coffee counter, please? I’ve left everything you need there.’
Was it his imagination, or was Bea blushing more than before?
‘Sure, no problem,’ he smiled down at her, a sudden urge to touch her hair assaulting him. She was close to him and it would be so easy to take advantage …
‘You have got to be kidding me.’ Russ’ loud exclamation broke the moment and Jake stepped back to reveal Bea’s business partner fuming in the office doorway, wearing a bright red and yellow jester’s outfit.
Shaken by what he’d just experienced, Jake stared as Russ stormed past.
‘This is the costume you ordered for me? What happened to the wizard outfit you promised?’
‘The costume hire place was all out of wizards, I’m afraid.’ Bea reached out to touch his arm. ‘Sorry, hun.’
Russ jabbed his hands onto his hips, the bells on his three-pointed hat and harlequin collar jingling merrily as he did so. ‘They were out of wizards? Is there a major wizard convention happening in Brooklyn that I wasn’t aware of?’
‘I tried,’ Bea protested, ‘honestly, I did. But I thought the jester’s outfit was apt for you, being a comedian and everything.’
‘Fantastic. There could be single women here today, Bea! You are seriously damaging my chances of making a good impression. Next time when we share out responsibilities, remind me to take control of the costumes.’
‘Well, I think you look adorable,’ Bea smiled innocently.
Russ was far from impressed. ‘Just remember, I’m doing this for you, Bea James. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.’ With that, he grabbed a handful of party bags from the office desk and flounced out.
Jake was glad to be given a job to do and busied himself with pouring drinks. The moment he had experienced in the office had unnerved him, not least because it had taken him by surprise. You’re projecting again, he analysed. You’re feeling exposed in an unfamiliar situation: Bea is a friend and you trust her. You’re confusing a moment of reassurance in vulnerability with something else. It isn’t real. Once the children arrived he would get into the swing of things and it would be fine.
Spending time with Bea was reassuring. Her friendship was just what he needed as the dust continued to settle on his feelings for Jess in the wake of their divorce. He needed to have fun, to smile and forget that the woman he thought was the love of his life was doing her best to surgically remove him from her life. It was obvious that Bea didn’t want to be reminded of her ex any more than he did. It was the perfect arrangement. During the few weeks he and Bea had been sharing their favourite places, she had always surprised him. Even the more obvious locations – such as Central Park and a cupcake bakery in the Upper West Side – revealed unexpected reasons for Bea choosing them. The bakery was a people-watching paradise for Bea and had become a firm favourite due to the crazy owner who put a photo of his beloved dachshund dogs in different fancy dress on the counter each week. On the day Bea and Jake had visited, the dogs had been dressed as ‘Sonny and Cher Bonio’. Had anyone else shared this with him, Jake would have laughed them off the streets of Manhattan. But Bea’s unbridled joy at such cheesy kitsch was – endearing. He had assumed she would be reserved, considering her English heritage, but she seemed to find wonder in the smallest detail. He envied her that: in his line of work so much attention was given to cataloguing every nuance of life that it could steal any spontaneous joy from the act. Bea revelled in the absurd, and her amusement was infectious. Jake felt like he was learning to do the same – and, given the alternative of moping around while his divorce steamrollered on, it was a far better use of his time.
At six p.m., Lulu and Bronagh arrived, the birthday girl’s rapt expression when she entered worth every hour of work invested in the party.
‘This is awesome,’ she exclaimed, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘Do you like it, lovely?’ Bea asked, laughing with surprise as Bronagh threw her arms around her, sobbing loudly.
‘That’s a “yes”,’ her mother smiled. ‘It’s beautiful, Bea. I can’t thank you enough.’
The transformed bookstore elicited similar responses from Bronagh’s friends when they arrived, the sum total of conversation for the first ten minutes of the party consisting of ‘Wow’s and ‘Awesome’s and ‘Unbelievable’s. Bronagh beamed in the middle of it all, her position as the giver of the coolest birthday parties firmly established in the eyes of her friends.
Jake served paper cups of ‘Forest Nectar’ – a mixture of pomegranate and apple juice concocted by Russ, while Bea read stories to the party guests. She seemed to shine from within when she read: it was no wonder that you could hear a pin drop as Bronagh and her friends listened. He was fascinated to watch his new friend at work, doing what she loved in the place she and Russ had built together.
The bookshop was magical: but Jake sensed that this came more from the passion injected into every aspect by its owners than any of the impressive decorations adorning its fittings and fixtures today. Even with fifteen overexcited eleven-year-olds filling the space with joy and laughter, Hudson River Books had an overarching sense of calm, a peace that Jake had never experienced in a bookstore before. No wonder their young customer had wanted her birthday party here: it was a place unlike any other.
Russ led a treasure hunt after the story was finished, much to the delighted screams of the young party guests, followed by the Forest Feast of cupcakes, pinwheel sandwiches decorated with poppy seeds to resemble cut logs, and pizza slices covered with lizards cut from green and red bell peppers. Jake served canapés to the parents while Russ and Bea brought out an enormous three-tiered cake covered in sugar craft flowers and foliage, topped with a flurry of delicate sugar butterflies and eleven gold candles.
It was almost nine o’clock when the happy-but-weary guests, parents and birthday girl departed. Bea, Russ and Jake flopped down on the beanbag sofas, Russ producing a hidden bag of beers to toast their success.
‘Now I know how movie directors feel at a wrap party,’ he said, handing bottles to Bea and Jake. ‘That was exhausting.’
‘But successful,’ Jake interjected. ‘You guys did an amazing job.’
‘Thank
s, Jake. And thanks so much for coming to help us. I don’t think we could have managed without you.’
For once, Russ appeared genuine when he leaned across to shake Jake’s hand. ‘You did good, man.’
‘My pleasure.’ Weariness began to tug at his body and Jake looked up at the clock above the counter. ‘I should be going. I have a client arriving early tomorrow and I need to prepare my notes.’
Bea was disappointed. ‘Do you have to leave right away? Russ and I are ordering pizza.’
Tempted as he was, Jake was ready to go home. ‘You guys deserve to celebrate.’ He stood slowly and went to the office to change out of his costume. Five minutes later, he returned and Bea walked him out of the bookstore.
‘Thank you again. And thanks for wearing the costume.’
‘It was a good costume. Just relieved I didn’t get the jester’s suit,’ Jake grinned. He wondered if he should tell her that she looked beautiful in her outfit, but didn’t think it wise. But another thought struck him and, not wanting to overanalyse his motives, he decided to act upon it. ‘Hey, Bea?’
‘Yes?’
‘I was talking to Rosie and Ed and they’d really like it if you’d come to their wedding. It’s the day before Christmas Eve at my parents’ house on Long Island. I’d be honoured if you’d accept as my guest.’
Did it sound too much like a date? Would being Jake’s ‘plus-one’ be too threatening for her? Jake almost took it back, until he saw Bea’s smile.
‘I would love to,’ she replied.
‘You would?’
‘Of course I would! I think the world of Rosie and Ed and it means a lot that they would want me to be there when they get married.’
‘Great. I’ll tell them yes, then?’
‘Yes. Please do.’
Knowing he would have a friend and ally at the wedding was a source of great relief for Jake. Bea would be the perfect person to share the day with: not only fun to be with but also a perfect foil to dissuade the attempts of well-meaning Steinmann relatives to set him up with their unmarried friends. They could be a safety net for each other. It was a perfect arrangement.
I'll Take New York Page 21
