Minnie had resolved to bake a delicious big cake and on the first day the shop was open after the New Year, and bring it with a bottle of wine for this chap who’d been so helpful.
‘I’ll just wait and get the taxi with you,’ Gladys had announced. ‘You know, just to get you home safe, Minnie.’
And that’s what she’d done – shared the taxi home and then hadn’t batted an eye as Minnie had paid for it. Not that she’d minded in the least. She’d been grateful for Gladys’s assistance, no matter how loud it was.
As Gladys had set off for her own house, Minnie had walked slowly up the path and breathed a sigh of relief when she managed to get herself and her bags through the door. It certainly hadn’t gone as planned, but she’d accomplished her tasks one way or another, and she had the gift, her shopping, and herself back in one piece. If you didn’t count the crushed shortbread.
After setting her bags down, she’d gone into the kitchen and told Henry all about what had happened. She’d put it down to her broken sleep last night, and he’d agreed with her that a nap would make her feel right as rain. However, now, as she rolled over onto another bruise, she wasn’t sure that had been completely accurate because her bones were still aching. There would be no giving in to this though. Minnie Ryan had not lived to seventy-eight years of age without learning a thing or two about the necessity to brush obstacles out of the way and just get on with things.
As she mulled that over, she realised she’d forgotten to show Henry the flask she’d bought for Gino, but she was too exhausted to get up and do it right now, and besides, it was all wrapped up. He’d see it later, she told herself, as she pulled her blanket up around her shoulders and closed her eyes, ready to let sleep take her for a little while. As often happened, that was when her memories were at their most vivid, and like the opening scenes of a movie, she saw another night come to life in her mind.
It was a few years after their first visit to Gino’s and they’d already moved out to the South Side of the city. They stillwent to Gino’s every Hogmanay, but money still didn’t stretch to eating out any more than that. It was tight, what with four boys between ten and thirteen, but they were managing, mainly thanks to the promotion Henry had got when he’d finished his latest round of night school qualifications and his last stretch of training. He was a fully-fledged planning officer for the city council now, and she was proud as punch of him. She had her own job too, working as an auxiliary in the school that the boys went to, taking care of the children when they were sick and supporting the teachers in whatever way they needed. She loved that job, especially as it allowed her to be on the same schedule as the boys.
The downside, though, was that when one of the kids picked up a bug, it went round the school like wildfire, and one year they’d found that out to their cost.
Eric had been the first one to go down with the flu at Christmas, and then Roger, Robert and Charlie had succumbed to it, one a day over the next week. Minnie was next to take to her bed, in a shudder of sweats and coughs and limbs that ached even under the lightest touch, but still getting up every hour or so to check on her boys and pat their foreheads with cloths that had been dampened by cold water from the tap.
Henry had wanted to help, but she’d shooed him off. He was the main breadwinner, and they couldn’t have him going on the sick and losing half his wages, so she didn’t want him anywhere near them.
On the 31st, their fevers were peaking, and Minnie had spoken to Henry from the top step of the stairs, the enforced invisible barrier between their two worlds this week. He’d been sleeping on the couch since Boxing Day and she knew it killed him not to be able to share her bed and take care of her. That’s who Henry Ryan had always been – the man who took care of his family.
‘I’m so sorry, love, but there’s no way any of us sickly ones can go out tonight. We’re weak as kittens and I couldn’t live with myself if I passed it on to anyone else.’ She didn’t say what else she was thinking. She remembered well the flu epidemic in 1968 and the lives that were taken. This time around, she’d been worried sick for her boys, and was overcome with relief that they seemed to be on the other side of it now.
They both were. ‘All that matters is that you and the boys see this damned infection off, Minnie. Don’t you worry about a thing, my love. There will be plenty more nights for dancing. Now, go back to your bed and I’ll go over and see the Morettis tomorrow – I’ll take that bottle of whisky you bought me for Christmas and share a dram with Gino.’
A few hours later, Minnie had listened as the church bells rang outside and the streets filled with people cheering the new year. She got up to shout Happy New Year down to Henry, then went to say the same to her boys. Eric was already feeling so much better, and he sang along to the music that rang out from open windows, and listened as strangers chatted as they went on their way to ‘first foot’ their loved ones, an old tradition that claimed if a tall, dark man bearing gifts – usually coal or cake in the old days – was the first person over the threshold after the bells, it would bring good luck to the household for the year to come.
It was about an hour later, when Minnie had heard a banging at the door and rose herself from the bed, then crouched at the top of the stairs as Henry had answered it.
She had recognised the voice of the visitor immediately.
‘My friend!’ the voice with the melodic accent had boomed. ‘We were worried when you didn’t join us tonight, so here I am. Our party is fading now, and Alicia insisted I come and check on you. Tell me everything is okay with you?’
The happiness in Henry’s voice had made her heart soar, as he welcomed Gino in and explained that the boys and Minnie were sick, and that he’d planned to go over to visit the Morettis the next day. He’d poured those drams, and she’d heard Henry open the front door again, so they could share in the revelry and the celebrations outside.
‘You know, Gino, it’s fair moved me that you came all the way here to check on us,’ her husband had told his friend.
Minnie had just been thinking the very same thing.
‘And you would do the same for me,’ Gino had responded. ‘Because we both know that friendships last long after midnight.’
Now, years later, even as she once again lay in bed with aching bones, she knew that was true. They’d never missed another New Year’s Eve in all the decades since that night. And Minnie was determined that tonight wasn’t going to be any different.
2 P.M. – 4 P.M.
13
AILISH
‘Okay, so there are only two rules in the Makeover Club. We don’t talk about cancer or ex-husbands,’ Gwen proclaimed, as Rhonda manoeuvred the car into a parking space outside the trendy new boutique that had just opened on Ingram Street, ironically only a five-minute stroll to Gino’s restaurant. A whole net of butterflies let loose in Ailish’s stomach, a mixture of dread and resistance, but now joined by an undeniable flutter of excitement too.
They piled out of the car, and Ailish grabbed the wheelchair from the boot. Gwen had insisted that she didn’t need it, but the others argued that it would at least conserve her strength for tonight. That had won her over.
‘Right, driver, expensive shops please,’ Gwen demanded, as soon as she was in the chair and ready to go.
‘She was less demanding when she was at death’s door,’ Rhonda quipped, making Gwen giggle, and Ailish felt her heart soar.
She wasn’t one for swearing, but fuck it. Fuck it all. Gwen was right. No ex-husbands. No cancer. Just the three of them, having an unexpected day together, and they were going to bloody wellmake the most of it. If Gwen could raise her spirits and forget her woes, then Ailish could damn well do it too. Just as long as she could find something to squeeze her arse into. It had been a very real obstacle to the plan tonight.
