“What do you want, Patrick?” Finn wasn’t really surprised to see Patrick here. Their sons would have told their father what was going on – she wished someone had told her.
“I want to talk to you about doing an interview for my morning programme. I’m planning a human-interest story covering your reunion with your birth mother Ingrid,” Patrick said as if he were granting her a great honour. He’d already taped Ingrid’s piece. The sudden interest in his wife would send his audience share soaring. “I’ve asked Charles Upton, my researcher, to approach RTÉ about televising the piece. We may even be able to sell the story to the German media.”
“I don’t consider Ingrid anything other than a surrogate, Patrick. The fact that my mother has a penis bothers you but no one else. Rolf is the only mother I’ve ever needed. Your idea doesn’t interest me at all. I only do things that interest me these days.”
“You don’t understand, Nuala. I’m offering to allow you to appear on my show. I’ll be on hand to guide you through the televised interview. Having your husband close will set you at ease. We might even be able to work in a mention of your little hobby.”
“I don’t consider you my husband. I don’t want to talk about my ‘hobby’ and my name is Finn.”
“I think you need to think about this, sweetheart.” Patrick gave Finn one of his patented smiles, guaranteed to melt every female within range.
She was thrilled to notice it made her want to laugh.
“Not interested.” Finn wanted nothing to do with his idea.
“Are you Patrick Brennan?” Nellie had noticed the famous Irish presenter in their midst. “The one who thinks he has the right to tell us how to think and act?”
“Excuse me.” Finn pulled her two friends away, leaving Patrick to the tender mercies of Nellie.
The three women walked down the Parade and mingled with the crowd getting ready to party.
“How come you two didn’t tell me you were coming home?” Finn demanded, standing in front of Emmet and Rolf, her hands on her hips. “Do yez know what’s going on around here?” She looked around at the smiling crowd – some she knew – some strangers. Her two sons were much in demand.
“Would you just enjoy yourself for once, Finn?” Emmet grinned, pulling her into a tight embrace. “You look fabulous by the way.”
Rolf kissed his fingers and blew a kiss to Finn.
“Make way there.” Mr. Walsh, Finn’s butcher, and two of his sons carrying a roasted pig were trying to push through the crowd onto the Parade. Where had they come from?
Finn stood back and watched. The Parade was lined with tables. Food and drink appeared from all directions.
“Right, are we all here? Someone do a head count!” Breda Carr shouted. “Where’s Larry Jameson, he’s supposed to be here?”
The residents of the Parade were having a ball. They were film stars and when it got dark they were going to show the film with the people from the Parade in it. This was the most excitement they’d ever had in their lives.
“Coming, missus.” Larry with a group of his ‘lads’ in their Sunday best appeared, carrying yet another table.
“Nellie, Nellie McGinn, are you going to do this or shall I?” Breda Carr was flushed and happy. She’d been a vampire’s victim and her face had been shown on German television. Imagine.
“I’ll do it!” Nellie McGinn shouted. “It was my idea!”
She waved at one of the German cameramen to follow along. She could have been a film director herself if she’d been born later in life, she thought, as everyone jumped to obey her commands.
Nellie stationed herself in the middle of the Parade. “We’re going to do this the old-fashioned way. We promised our German visitors an Irish hooley and that’s what they’re going to get. Now, where is Finn? Finn Emerson, front and centre woman, yer holding things up!”
Nellie examined Finn as she walked towards her. The girl was suitably dressed for once.
Finn looked at the smiling faces that surrounded her.
Nellie swung into action, issuing orders to everyone. She put the men in Finn’s life in a circle on a bare piece of the Parade they’d marked out as a dance floor. When she went to include Patrick Brennan, Angie quietly stepped in with a whispered “Not that one”. Nellie nodded. She’d guessed as much.
“Jim Kelly, play something beautiful. A waltz if you would.” Nellie looked to where Jim Kelly sat on a kitchen chair pulled close to his own front door, his accordion across his chest ready for action. The man gave a nod and with lively fingers and much smiling began to produce beautiful music from his squeeze box.
“Now, Finn, you dance with your father first,” Nellie ordered while Jim played a waltz by Strauss.
Emmet took his daughter in his arms and waltzed her skilfully around the impromptu dance floor. He kissed her then passed her into Rolf’s arms. Finn was taller than Rolf but it didn’t matter. He danced her around, beaming, before passing her to Ronan.
Ronan did a passable waltz, whispering to his mum that she looked fabulous before dancing her over to Oisín.
Oisín picked Finn up and swung her around, shouting that he had the sexiest mother in the world.
Finn was flattered but mortified by the attention.
When Oisín stopped moving Nellie gave the signal and everyone started to sing. They roared out a vigorous rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to Finn’.
Finn was hugged and kissed to within an inch of her life. Everyone wanted to give her personal good wishes. She was passed laughing from one pair of arms to another.
Emmet brought out the crate of champagne he’d hidden. Mick Carr cracked open the Guinness and the party got started. It was a good old Irish hooley with everyone performing their ‘party piece’. The German crew ran around recording everything. Angie’s Irish dancing stole the show. The woman was a wonder to watch – her knees lifting – feet kicking – skirt flying. The audience clapped along and cheered.
The partygoers showed no sign of tiring. The Irish weather for once was co-operating. The summer evening closed in slowly. Tall garden candles were pushed into soft earth and lit to add a hint of glamour to the gathering.
“Riverdance has a lot to answer for,” Angie gasped, dropping onto a chair beside Finn. She put out a hand for the glass of water Finn held. She needed it. She’d been whirled around the place by countless young men. “Very different from your birthday last year, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“It couldn’t be more different.” Finn looked around for more bottled water. They were going to need it. “I noticed you teaching the younger visitors a little Irish dancing.”
“Did you see your two, Ronan and Oisín – I remember you dragging them kicking and screaming to dance classes.” Angie grabbed the bottle of water Finn passed to her and guzzled it down.
“They’ve discovered the advantages of being Oirish in their travels.” Finn watched her family. She hadn’t had time to talk to them yet but she didn’t care. They were here and that was all that mattered at the moment.
“Patrick is desperately trying to impress the visiting executives, have you noticed?” Maggie dropped into a nearby chair, panting from her dash around the Parade in Larry Jameson’s arms. The man had stamina, she’d say that for him. She’d telephoned to check on her children. They were having a great time with their father’s latest woman friend. She was free to enjoy herself.
“Nope.” Finn shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy being the new, improved and very popular Finn Emerson?” Maggie accepted a bottle of water with relief. “Good for you.”
“Good for everyone!” Angie chinked her water bottle against Finn’s and Maggie’s. Dare had told her he planned to rent Finn’s house. She hadn’t mentioned it to Finn. She reckoned it was none of her business. It would be lovely to see her grandchildren. She’d be free to enjoy them without worrying about entertaining and feeding them all. She couldn’t wait.
“You and Larry Jameson seem to be enjoying yourselves, Maggie?�
�� Finn said.
“The man can dance,” Maggie said. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a man who can waltz you off your feet.”
“Look at Pieter and Gerta dancing cheek to cheek, lost in the music – you’d never believe they had four teenage kids.” Finn was thrilled Pieter had brought his wife with him on this trip. She believed she and Gerta could become good friends. She’d be glad to get to know them all. “Paul and Scott seem to be much in demand.”
“Have you thought about it?” Angie leaned in to say.
“Thought about what?” Finn laughed aloud at the antics of the crowd around her.
“Last year for your birthday you gave a party and no one came. This year – just one short year later – you didn’t bother with a party yet everyone came.” She waved her hands around at the laughing people.
“I suppose you’re right.” Finn had a lot more family around her than she knew what to do with. Thank God Ingrid, according to Gerta, had refused to travel to Ireland again. The woman had been in a foul mood since her return so they said. Gerta thought Rolf and his sister had had a falling-out. “It’s a shame we don’t have street parties anymore.”
“You have had an amazing year, Finn.” Angie smiled at Rolf walking over to them. He was smiling and happier looking then she’d seen him in a while. It would do the man good to be able to stay in one place for a while. She wouldn’t fancy being on the move all the time. Although, she wouldn’t say no to the odd trip abroad.
“Angie, you have not danced with me.” Rolf offered his hand to Angie who jumped to her feet.
“Well, daughter, will you dance with your old man?” Emmet held out his hand to Finn. They took to the dance floor under the smiling gazes of the crowd. “Before I forget and while it’s only the two of us – I think Rolf is finally seeing his sister for what she really is. That will make our settling down here a lot easier. I wasn’t looking forward to having Ingrid as a regular visitor.”
“Da, we can handle whatever that woman chooses to dish out,” Finn said. “The two of us will protect Rolf. What do you know about Dolph and his plans for me and mine? He seems awfully willing to throw me to the wolves.”
“He’d be a good man to have in your corner.” Emmet swung her away from him before drawing her back close to his chest. He was enjoying this slice of a disappearing part of Irish life. Maybe he’d try and start having the odd hooley when he was once more living in the family home. “He’s a powerful man in Germany. He could help you push your career along. The man loves your artwork and featured it heavily in the indoor scenes in his new programme.”
“We’ll see how things go. I like Pieter’s wife.” Finn put her head on her father’s chest. The evening air was so soft and the music being created by fiddle and squeeze box suited it somehow. “She has invited me to visit them in Germany. I’m thinking about it.”
“Enough of this – it’s your birthday.” Emmet kissed her. “Jim, take a break. I have my fiddle here somewhere.” He looked for one of his grandsons. They’d know where his fiddle was. He spotted Oisín and waved, then mimed fiddle-playing. A minute later a smiling Oisín was carrying his fiddle case towards him.
Finn sat on a windowsill while her father played dance music and the crowd whispered and moved around them. Oisín and Ronan came to lean on either side of her. She saw the studio photographer going crazy taking pictures. She’d have to get a copy. It wasn’t every day a woman of her years sat with a sex symbol standing guard on each side like bookends.
“Dolph is thinking of having Frieda’s character in the show discover a love of metalwork.” Ronan sniggered and nudged his mother gently with his elbow. He ignored the young girls trying to catch his eye. He’d missed his mother and wanted to spend a little time with her.
“The man is planning to put the poor girl in a leather bikini while she works on her ‘models’.” Oisín’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “It will certainly catch the eye.”
“Well, it is what every sane woman wears when there’s burning hot metal flying around.” Finn lifted her nose in the air and grinned facetiously. “Think how useful the open flame will be for fighting vampires.”
The three of them held onto each other and giggled like lunatics.
Finn stared around her at the crowd, wishing she could trap this moment in a bottle. There was a small mountain of presents waiting to be opened by her. They could wait – it hadn’t been presents she’d wanted for her big day last year. She’d needed an acknowledgment of her worth as a human being. She’d learned her own worth through her own efforts this year. She knew who she was. She liked herself.
She was determined to keep going forward. No one knew what tomorrow would bring but she would greet it on her own terms. She’d been in charge of her own life for a year. Looking around at the smiling faces, surrounded by the men she loved, she decided she hadn’t done a half bad job. She’d keep it up.
Epilogue
Present Day
“Dad, are you ready to leave?” Finn had been searching for her father. He’d found a seat almost hidden from sight of the wedding party.
“Don’t annoy me, daughter. We haven’t heard Ronan perform yet.” Emmet patted the seat beside him. “Sit down here, you’ve been running around like a blue-arse fly since we got here.”
“Paul and Scott look so happy.” Finn was glad to sit down – get the weight off her feet. She sat beside her father, staring around at the happy crowd gathered in the hotel ballroom.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day two men could exchange marriage vows – it’s a wonderful thing.” Emmet took a hankie from his pocket and blew his nose vigorously.
“The happy couple are glad you’re here. They didn’t expect you to attend. It hasn’t been that long since we lost Rolf.” Finn fought the tears that came to her eyes.
“We didn’t lose him, for feck’s sake, Finn!” Emmet snapped. “He died. I hate those mealy-mouthed expressions. We lost him, he slipped away, he’s gone. He’s past. Rolf died.” He fought for breath. “He died in my arms.”
“I know, Da.” Finn put her head on his shoulder. “I was there.”
“Now’s not the time to be talking about such things, daughter. Look at Paul and Scott there. The pair of them are beaming.” He moved his shoulder, shaking her head. “Speaking of happy days,” he pointed towards Dare Lawrence, “when are you going to marry that man?”
Patrick Brennan had been dead for over five years. Finn was free to marry but was dragging her feet about committing to Dare.
“You’d better be quick about it,” Emmet said. “I haven’t that many days left meself.”
“Now who’s being depressing?” Finn sat up and glared. She’d lost her da-ma – she wasn’t ready to lose her da.
“We are all going to die, daughter.” Emmet felt like a day didn’t pass without him hearing of the death of another friend. He was one of the few left breathing as far as he could see. “It’s not something to be feared, you know. It happens to all of us will we or nill we.”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
“I thought we’d cured you of hiding your head in the sand.”
“This is not the time to be thinking sad thoughts.” Finn looked around at the laughing happy people.
“It’s hard not to think about the people who aren’t here.” Emmet too looked at the crowd. So many familiar faces missing. “You know, I think I feel sadder at a wedding than I do at a good Irish wake. You can have a few good laughs at a funeral!”
“Honest to God, Da, it’s worse you’re getting.”
“What are you two doing over here all on your own?” Oisín knelt down in front of the pair. “I’ve saved you seats in the front of the room. Ronan will be performing soon. It’s not every day people get to see a renowned singer-songwriter perform live. Everyone wants to be near the stage. So, come on,” he stood, offering both hands to pull them from their seats. “Let’s be having yeh.”
Emmet waved the proffer
ed hands away.
“Good lad, you found them.” Dare joined them. “I’ll be forced to throw me body over those seats if you don’t move. The crowd is beginning to mill around the stage – hoping to catch a glimpse of the star.”
“I’m fine where I am,” Emmet said. “I can’t be doing with all those iphones or whatnot flashing and wagging in the air. Does no one just enjoy the experience anymore? They’ll be fighting to record Ronan and be the first to send him over the net, I’ve no doubt. I can’t be arsed with all of that – sorry. I’ll stay here and enjoy the music.”
“If that’s the way you feel,” Dare said, “I’ll grab a chair and join yez.”
“I’ll leave you old fogies to it.” Oisín wished he could join them. He didn’t enjoy the mania that surrounded his brother’s performances. But he’d promised his wife he’d find seats close to the stage for them. “I’ll see yez later.” He left them to enjoy their little hideaway.
“Is it just me or are weddings a great deal of work? I’ve a pain in my face from smiling.” Dare sank into the chair he’d carried over.
“I’ve just been saying I enjoy a good wake more meself.” Emmet slapped Dare on the back.
“Me ma’s was certainly a party to end all parties.” Dare shook his head, remembering the wake they had held for his mother. Angie had died in her sleep, shocking everyone who knew her. It was the first time the woman had ever done anything quietly.
“Someone remind me to get a copy of the official video of the wedding for Maggie.” Finn didn’t want to think about Angie and her passing. “She was sad she couldn’t get away to attend the wedding.” Maggie lived in America – LA. She’d made a name for herself in costume design.
“So many changes,” Emmet said sadly. “What is it about weddings that makes you count the passing of the years? I don’t get to see my grandsons unless there is a wedding or a funeral.” He blew his nose loudly. “Rolf loved that Ronan married a German woman and settled in Germany. Then there is Oisín running around the world filming nature documentaries.” He shook his head and sighed. “Still, I suppose it’s not a bad legacy for an old man to leave behind him. Two talented grandsons, five great-grandchildren. I can die happy knowing I’ve left something of myself behind me.”
Her Revolution Page 31
