One Midnight With You, page 6
Dario blew out his cheeks as he slumped back in his chair. ‘I didn’t want to speak to Dad about it today – you know how he feels about New Year’s Eve. It’s his most sentimental night of the year. But this is the last day that the offer is on the table, and I’m not accepting it without trying to get his agreement.’
‘Oh God, I feel sick just thinking about that. What time do you have to let them know by?’
‘Midnight. Apparently, it’s west coast American investors, and there’s an eight-hour time difference, so that’s 4 p.m. their time. That’s the deadline. And Nicky… you know I’m going to have to talk to Matty too.’
She groaned again. Nicky was as close to both their kids as he was. Their daughter, Lucia, had moved to Milan straight out of college to work in fashion there, taking advantage of the fact that she was both wildly talented in textile design and spoke Italian like a native. Dario didn’t get over to see her anywhere near as often as he should, because he hated to leave the restaurant for too long, but luckily Lucia came home on holiday twice a year, most of which was spent parked at a table at the restaurant window, working on her laptop while chatting to her family and the regulars who knew her when she’d waitressed here at weekends. One more person who would be sad about selling up.
‘He’s going to be crushed, Dario, I’m just putting that out there. And brace yourself, because you know how he’ll react.’
The phrase ‘hot-headed’ had been invented for their son. He was exquisitely gifted, and a decent guy underneath it all, but when it came to his professional life, he was the chef that made Gordon Ramsay look reasonable and mild-mannered.
‘I do. I’ll make sure I tell him somewhere that there’s no sharp objects.’
It was said in jest, but there was a hint of truth in there. Matty had once ejected a former food critic from the restaurant because he remembered that he’d done a write-up in the nineties saying that Dario’s meatballs could be used in a game of cricket. They’d found out later he was taking kickbacks from their closest rivals.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked, realising that Nicky had fallen quiet. That usually meant that either she’d done something he wouldn’t like, or she was planning to.
‘I’m thinking that I’m about to be the favourite parent for once.’
That made Dario smile. The truth was that the kids loved them equally, but Nicky had always professed otherwise, although he was pretty sure it was tongue in cheek.
‘And I’m thinking that I’ll let you break that news to him alone. I’ve seen the movies. The sidekick is always the one that ends up getting blamed. Let me know when you’re going to tell him, and I’ll go hide. It’ll be just like when you did the birds and the bees chat, and I stayed in the shed until it was safe to come out.’
The thing was, he didn’t blame her in the least. This was his mess, and he was the one responsible for the clean-up.
Nicky got up from the chair, came over to where he was sitting and hugged him. He held on to her for a few seconds, grateful for the human touch. It had been a while. For the last year, he’d been so busy trying to drag the restaurant out of the quicksand, he’d pretty much stopped dating, stopped socialising, stopped doing anything other than working.
‘Now there’s something I didn’t expect to see today,’ came a voice from the doorway.
Dario glanced over Nicky’s shoulder to see Matty’s six foot frame in the doorway. Their son. The one who had dreamed his whole life of taking over this restaurant and making it his own. And now Dario was going to have to tell him that he was snatching that dream away from him.
But, right now, Matty’s mind was adding two and two and getting an answer that equalled happy families. ‘Don’t tell me you two are getting back together, because that’ll put me in therapy. You’re the most unsuited couple ever.’
On any other day, Dario would have objected to that statement, despite the truth of it, but today he let it go with, ‘Nope, it’s not what it looks like.’
Matty laughed. ‘Said every couple in every movie when they get caught up to no good. Okay, lovebirds, well, that’s me in and I’m just going to go get started in the kitchen.’
‘Actually, son, can you sit down for a minute? There’s something we need to tell you.’ He ignored Nicky’s stare of death.
Matty glanced from Dario to Nicky and then back again. ‘Shit, you are getting back together.’
‘Nope, ’fraid not, son. It’s something much worse than that.’
8
MINNIE
Minnie said hello to everyone she passed on the way to the shops at Clarkston Toll, just a fifteen-minute walk away. She’d lived in the same house on the South Side of the city for nearly fifty years, so she knew a lot of her neighbours, but she greeted everyone whether she recognised them or not. Some responded in kind, some didn’t, but Minnie didn’t mind either way.
It was cold out and she’d thought about staying home today, but she worried that giving up her daily walk would be the start of a downward spiral that would end with her joints seizing up, so she made a point of getting exercise while she was still fit. Henry no longer joined her, but that was no reason not to go. After all, hadn’t she been one of those women marching for women’s liberation back in the sixties? Yes, she damn well had, and if they were still marching these days, she’d be right at the front.
Anyway, the walk was essential today because she had a gift to pick up from the jewellers, and she wanted to get a packet of shortbread and a small bottle of whisky for any New Year’s Day visitors, so she’d wrapped up in her favourite red cloche hat and matching scarf, and the new coat that Ailish had bought her for Christmas and set off.
Bless that woman. Minnie couldn’t have asked for a better daughter-in-law. After everything Eric had put her through, Ailish still popped in to see her at least once during the week, and also took her to Asda every Saturday morning, stopping at the garden centre for tea and a scone on the way back. Which was more than that new one Eric was seeing now had done. What was her name? Minnie couldn’t quite get it to the front of her mind, but then, that wasn’t really a surprise. Eric popped in to visit once or twice a week, but almost always alone, so Minnie had only met her three or four times. Even when she did, the woman had barely given Minnie a second glance in her own house. On Christmas Day, when Emmy had brought over that lovely dinner, Eric had washed up afterwards, but the girlfriend had barely said two words, just sat on her phone and ignored them.
Thinking about that now, even though she’d left Henry behind at home, she still heard his voice in her head. ‘Best stay out of it, love. They’ve all got to make their own decisions, whether we agree with them or not.’
He was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to button her lip, especially when she was so disappointed with Eric. ‘Was it my fault?’ she’d asked Henry when the affair first came to light two years ago.
He’d looked at her quizzically, his brow knitting on that face of his that was no less handsome, even in their seventies. That day, he’d just come in from having a pint at his golf club, and she was fairly sure that the lady captain there had designs on him. Probably others too. Minnie joined him for lunch at the clubhouse every couple of weeks just to let them all know she was still alive and kicking and they could all keep their illicit intentions to themselves, thank you very much.
‘Why would you think that, love?’ he’d asked.
Minnie had shrugged. ‘Och, you know how it was when he was a youngster. He was my baby and maybe I spoiled him a bit more than the others. Indulged him. The way you’re treated in childhood can shape your whole personality, you know. I saw a programme about that on Channel 4 while you were watching the football last week.’
Henry’s expression had changed from confusion to a wide grin. ‘So, hang on. The lad is fifty-odd years old now and you think that he got up to no good in his marriage because you gave him too many sweets as a kid?’
When he put it like that…
But still, it made her heart sore that he’d hurt the lovely Ailish and that poor Emmy had been caught in the crossfire. Minnie had tried to talk to him about it when it had all happened, but Eric could be stubborn about discussing emotional things like that. It gave her a little hope that she could see he wasn’t proud of his actions though. ‘Mum, I’m sorry, but…’ He’d paused, struggling for words. ‘The thing is, I just fell in love with Donna. And I know I haven’t gone about it the right way, but I had to choose her in the end because I need to do what’s right for me.’
That one had self-indulgence written all over it. Definitely too many sweets as a boy, no matter what Henry said. They hadn’t discussed it after that because Henry had seen how much the conflict of loving their son, but not liking his actions, was taking a toll on her. Instead, they’d made the best of it, welcomed Eric when he stopped by, and Minnie continued to spend time with Ailish and Emmy whenever she could.
A droplet of water fell on Minnie’s nose, and she looked upwards, fearing rain, but it must just have been a drip of melted ice from the tree branches above. Now that the droplet had snapped her out of her thoughts, she realised that she was at her first destination and stopped in front of the bright red post box on the edge of the pavement. From the jute bag she was carrying, she pulled out a woolly mass and shook it out to reshape it back into a circle. Putting it in its place required a teeter on her tiptoes, but after a few stretches (of both her legs and the elastic that she’d threaded around the wool), she managed to position it over the top of the post box.
She stood back to survey her work – the post box now had a hat of its very own, a bright orange knitted topper that said ‘Happy New Year’ along the front, next to lots of little dancing bears that she’d knitted separately then stitched on. Satisfied, she had a wee glow when she thought of how it might make the little ones that came by here smile, then carried on along the street.
The convenience store was the next stop, and in there she happily took a basket and wandered up and down every aisle, even though she only needed two things and she knew exactly where they were. It added a few more steps to her daily tally and it was nice and warm in here. There were a couple of friendly faces too, and when she reached the checkout line, she stopped to have a quick chat to one of the ladies who went to the same line dancing class on a Tuesday afternoon.
Gladys wasn’t a close friend, a bit too pessimistic and concerned with her ailments for Minnie’s liking, but they’d known each other for years and always passed the time of day when they bumped into each other at the dancing or the shops. As the cashier ran Gladys’s shopping through the till and packed it for her, she carried on chatting to Minnie. Och, the weather was getting right into Gladys’s bones and hadn’t the television been rubbish over Christmas? Then over to Minnie for some joy. Yes, she’d had a lovely Christmas. And yes, she was all ready for the bells tonight. Or at least she would be by the time she finished shopping today.
‘Well, Happy New Year when it comes,’ Gladys said, as she paid for her shopping, then bid her goodbye. ‘Let’s hope we’re spared for another year, although at our age, you never know the minute.’ With that cheery thought, off she went, bustling out of the shop.
Whisky and shortbread purchased, Minnie made her way to the jewellery shop a few doors down the street. As soon as she got inside and the heat allowed her to remove her gloves, she pulled a ticket out of her purse and handed it over to the young man behind the counter. Actually, he was probably in his thirties, but everyone under forty counted as a youngster to her.
‘I’d like to collect this please,’ she said.
He rummaged under the counter for so long that she was beginning to panic that it wasn’t ready, but just when she felt her body temperature begin to rise uncomfortably due to the worry of it, he stood back up and produced a square package about the size of a biscuit tin.
Relief made Minnie lightheaded for a few seconds.
Holding on to the counter to steady herself, she watched as he slid the white outer sleeve off the item, revealing a navy-blue, velvet box. He turned it as he opened it, so that she could see it was lined with silk, and nestling in the middle was a silver hip flask, the one that she’d picked out on Christmas Eve when she’d come in here to order it.
The assistant gently lifted the flask from its nest, and turned it over, to let her read the inscription she’d asked to be engraved on the back. If he noticed that some unexpected tears had found their way to her bottom lids, he was polite or embarrassed enough not to say.
Minnie cleared her throat, found her words. ‘That’s lovely, thank you. It’s perfect.’
It absolutely was. The perfect gift, for the man who had been their friend for decades. She just hoped that Gino would love it as much as she did. Henry too. She’d told him about it after she’d ordered it, and now she couldn’t wait to show it to him.
‘Would you like it gift wrapped?’
Minnie nodded. ‘That would be smashing, thank you.’
Off he went to the other side of the counter, leaving her to stand for a good five minutes. She glanced around to see if there was a wee chair that would let her take the weight off her legs for a minute, but there was none. By the time he came back with the square box, wrapped in gorgeous silver paper with a white ribbon around it, Minnie was warmer than ever and starting to feel a bit woozy again. With clumsy thumbs, she managed to get her purse out and hand over the three crisp twenty-pound notes that were left from the money she’d put in her purse before she left the house. Ailish was always telling her she should only use the credit card that she’d organised for her, but Minnie preferred to stick to cash. It had been good enough for the seventy-odd years she’d already been on this earth, so it would do her fine for the rest of her days.
The helpful assistant came round from behind the counter to hold the door open for her. Just a little wobbly, with her handbag over her shoulder and a shopping bag in each hand now, she stepped over the threshold, then gasped as the cold air hit her again.
Pausing to catch her breath, she’d just taken another step when a voice shouted out behind her. ‘Minnie! Was that you who knitted that new topper for the post box? Och, it’s lovely, so it is!’
Minnie turned her head to see Gladys grinning from ear to ear. See! It had already made someone smile today – and a tough nut to crack at that. She couldn’t remember Gladys smiling since the line-dancing coach gave in to her request and introduced ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ into their repertoire.
All that knitting had definitely been worth it.
That was the last thing that went through Minnie’s mind before she lost her footing, and felt herself falling forward, grasping futilely for something to grab on to, watching the pavement come towards her until she met it with a thud and a sickening crunch.
NOON – 2 P.M.
9
AILISH
Ailish switched on Gwen’s oven and pulled a pizza out of the freezer. They’d stopped at a Tesco Express on the way back from the hospital and Ailish had run in and done a trolley dash for the basics needed to refill Gwen’s fridge, freezer and breadbin. Then she’d added the two bottles of wine that Rhonda had requested and picked up three Christmas selection boxes that were reduced to half price.
Pizza in the oven, she opened a fresh tub of ready-made salad to go with the twelve-inch Margherita, then set the table with plates, napkins, cutlery and salad dressing, a smile on her face the whole time. Gwen was home. She was okay. They were all together. On a day that had begun with news that had chipped her heart, this turn of events had glued it back together again. When they’d wheeled Gwen to the hospital doors, then held her arms as she’d taken her first steps back into the outside world, Ailish had blinked the tears back. Although, she wasn’t sure if that was relief, or fear over what she’d just agreed to.
‘What about you, Ails? Are you in?’
How could she possibly say no and crush Gwen’s expression of pure hope? But she couldn’t quite say yes either, because the very thought of going out tonight, of all nights, gripped her with absolute horror. New Year’s Eve used to be her favourite night of the year, but now it made her want to hibernate and ignore the world. Her own issues aside though, her natural caution that going out could compromise Gwen’s health made her want to object. But she didn’t have the heart to refuse her friend anything, so in the end, she’d gone for a tentative nod that Gwen and Rhonda had taken as acceptance and rolled with it.
Now that they were home in Gwen’s ultra-modern, breathtakingly chic, river-front loft, Ailish still wasn’t convinced. Surely it was madness? Irresponsible. What if something went wrong? What if Gwen needed medical attention? The chances of getting swift emergency services on New Year’s Eve were slim to none – it was one of the busiest and most chaotic nights of the year in Glasgow. No. She was going to refuse for Gwen’s sake. She’d break it to her gently over the pizza that had just pinged in the oven.
As if summoned by the bell, at that moment Rhonda and Gwen reappeared, Gwen’s hair still wet from the shower. It had been the first thing she’d wanted to do when she got home, and Rhonda had insisted on sitting outside the bathroom door, just in case Gwen needed her or felt unwell.
‘I’m perfectly able to stand,’ Gwen had objected, rolling her eyes.
‘And I’m perfectly able to do the splits, but there’s always a risk that I’ll end up in Accident and Emergency, so I’m coming with you.’
Gwen had surrendered, knowing she was beaten.
Ailish pressed the front of one of the gloss white kitchen drawers, searching for the pizza cutter. This whole apartment looked like it was straight out of a magazine, thanks to both Gwen’s skill as an interior designer and her love of clean white spaces.
