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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: Coming Home for Christmas
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‘OK!’ Olivia sighed deeply as she drew to a halt.

Alison jumped out and retrieved her case from the back. ‘Love ya.’

‘Love you too. Safe journey,’ Olivia said, struggling to stay composed.

Alison straightened her shoulders and grabbed the handle of her case, and the last Olivia saw of her was her striding through the door of Departures with her glorious auburn mane blowing in the
wind. As she edged back out into the traffic, she burst into tears.

She’d seen a different side to her sister this time, a softer, more vulnerable side. And after their little tiff, Olivia finally felt Alison was more aware of her pressures, just as Olivia
was now much more attuned to the pressure Alison was under. The grass on her side of the fence no longer seemed as green as Olivia had imagined it. In fact, she wouldn’t want Alison’s
life at all, Olivia decided as she hurried weepily home to the bosom of her family.

She would not cry, Alison vowed, biting her lip hard as the great green and white jet roared down the runway and lifted its great bulk into the sky, soaring over the green
fields of North County Dublin and banking steeply to head west. Leaving home today had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Age was beginning to creep up on Esther and Liam. It was
unsettling to acknowledge that they had more years behind them than ahead of them. Watching her parents, Leo and the girls waving at her from the drive had been crucifying. For the first time, she
realized how greatly loved she was. For the first time, too, she realized what a balm home was to the spirit and how lucky she was. She knew many people for whom home meant misery, angst, tension
and unhappiness, people who were far less fortunate than her, for whom home did not equate with love.

She’d never really valued it until this trip, she thought guiltily as the M50 wound its way through the countryside beneath them and the engines throbbed with every fibre to thrust them
above the clouds and rob her of her last glimpse of Ireland. The woman who had flown home for her mother’s surprise party was a far different woman to the one that was flying back to America.
Her priorities had changed radically. Career was no longer the be-all and end-all of life, and that in itself was a huge shift and a huge relief. So what if she had to let the apartment go? It
wasn’t the disaster she’d thought previously. She’d get a job somewhere and, if she didn’t before the end of the three-months sublet with the studio, she’d consider
her options. And one of those options might well be coming back to Ireland, she decided as she tried to banish the memory of the chorus of goodbyes that had cut to the core of her.

She rooted in her big tote bag and took the book she’d bought in Hughes & Hughes out of its paper wrapping.
Anam Cara, Spiritual Wisdom from the Celtic World
by John
O’Donohue. She rubbed the gold Celtic design with her thumb and opened it to see what message she’d get.


There is a unique destiny for each person. Each one of us has something to do here that can be done by no one else
,’ she read.

How apt and lovely and comforting. JJ would get such comfort from the book when he read it, she knew that without the shadow of a doubt. And maybe that was one of the things she had to do, to
help bring comfort to his grieving and sad spirit. She settled into her seat and began to read the flowing, lyrical words of wisdom from the mystical poet as they flew high towards his and
JJ’s beloved Connemara, and Alison forgot for a while the sadness of goodbyes.

‘Well she’s gone, and on time too.’ Esther flicked off the teletext, where she’d been keeping an eye on Alison’s flight.

‘Don’t be sad, Gran, you have us,’ Kate said, dropping an arm around her shoulder.

‘Yes, and she’s got no little girls to play with like you have,’ Ellie pointed out. ‘So I’ve asked Holy God to give her some, and a daddy for her as
well.’

‘That’s very, very kind of you, Ellie. You’re all such good girls, I’m very lucky to have you,’ Esther said, gathering Ellie up on to her lap and hugging her
tightly.

‘’Tis time for her to get married all right, she wouldn’t want to be leaving it too late. She’s a fine girl, she should have no trouble getting a man.’ Leo threw in
his tuppenceworth. ‘Is she serious about that fella she’s with in America? You know the old saying: A long churning makes bad butter.’

‘I think that’s all off,’ Esther murmured as Liam winked at her behind his brother’s back.

‘And what about that chap that came to see her? Is she interested in him? He’s one of our own too,’ Leo observed.

‘You know, Leo, he might very well be the one for her. I had a feeling when I saw them together. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him,’ Esther said thoughtfully,
remembering how Alison and JJ had looked at each other in a half-shy way the day he’d come to pick her up.

‘Well now, what will be will be. We’ll let the good Lord look after them, and what’s for them won’t pass them by.’ Leo reached out and gave his sister-in-law a very
comforting pat on the back, as Lia took out her crayons and drew a picture of Alison in what looked suspiciously like a bridal gown.

Alison was weary and heartsore as she lugged her case through JFK and headed for the taxi rank. ‘Need a lift?’ a deep, familiar voice said above her left ear, and
Alison looked up in shock. JJ stood, strong and solid, smiling down at her.

Her lip quivered and she dissolved into tears.

‘Aaahh, don’t cry, woman!’ he said in dismay, putting his arms around her. She leaned against his shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of him, and bawled her eyes out.

‘It was awful. The worst ever. They’re getting old, JJ. It’s scary, and I feel so lonely,’ she hiccupped eventually, as he stoically patted her back.

‘Well, that makes two of us. Come on back to my gaff and we’ll have a cuppa and a chat and feel sorry for each other,’ he said gently, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the
back of his hand.

‘Thanks so much for coming. I really wasn’t expecting it. You gave me a surprise, but it’s lovely to see a face from home,’ she sniffed, knowing she must look an absolute
sight.

‘Don’t give it a thought, my dear good woman,’ JJ said as he took her case. ‘I thought it might be rough coming back, especially under the circumstances. And with you not
going back to your apartment and everything.’

‘You know,’ she sighed, ‘I’ve grown quite fond of my little studio, and my upstairs neighbour too.’ She slanted a glance up at him.

‘Right back at ya. Come on, woman, let’s get you home,’ JJ said easily, as he led the way out of the airport.

‘Bossy as ever,’ said Alison, but she was smiling.

Epilogue

Five months later

Alison sat at her desk in Arthur Morgan & Son’s investment and tax management company and gazed out at the sturdy oak tree that fringed the top of her fourth-floor
window. It was a glorious early summer’s afternoon. She’d just completed her first month in her new wealth-management position, and Arthur Morgan had, ten minutes ago, dropped in
personally to say that he was very happy with her work and hoped that she was settling in well. He was a rotund little man with ruddy cheeks and a comb-over, but she liked him. He was fatherly
towards his clients, particularly the older ones who came to him in great anxiety because of the times that they were living in. Arthur’s bottom line and philosophy was that he wouldn’t
let a client invest in something he wouldn’t let his parents invest in. He was a man of great integrity, and she respected him.

She
was
settling in well, Alison thought happily. It was a much smaller firm than her previous company, and the clients were far less wealthy. She was getting less than half the salary
she’d earned previously, but she had a job and a roof over her head and, compared to many, she was very lucky and she knew it. And at least the recovery from recession had started, as Obama
continued to lift hearts and spirits.

She hadn’t renewed the lease on her uptown apartment. She could always find another one if the time was right, she’d decided, when she’d had to make the decision. For now, she
was happy in her studio. Melora was still in LA and showed no signs of wanting to come back. Alison was going to visit her in a few weeks’ time.

Losing as much as she had had given Alison a freedom of sorts. She wasn’t a slave to a certain type of lifestyle any more, and that was strangely liberating. Her mother was right, the
Universe
was
providing, in ways she never could have expected, but in ways that were far more conducive to her happiness. Esther had often said that what appeared to be a calamity was often
a blessing in disguise. If Alison hadn’t been made redundant, she’d never have met JJ. What a loss that would have been, Alison thought, smiling to herself, feeling light-hearted and
happy.

Today she was leaving work early. JJ was collecting her; he was finally going to show her his new house and workshop. He’d moved out, as planned, to live in a trailer in the grounds, three
months ago, when spring had come, and she missed him living in her building. But she’d got to know the other tenants, and she liked the neighbourliness compared to where she’d lived
before.

She tidied up her desk, sent an email, answered another and then logged out. ‘Bye, Sandra,’ she called to the secretary she shared with one of the other investment managers.

‘Have a good one.’ Sandra waved at her from her office.

Alison took the elevator, humming to herself as it glided silently down to the carpeted foyer. Walter, the doorman, tipped his cap as he let her out. ‘Enjoy your weekend,’ he said
kindly.

‘You too, Walter, you too,’ she returned cheerily, stepping out into the warm breeze. She walked to the trunk of the oak tree and leaned against it, eyes shaded as she looked along
the street to see if she could see JJ’s jeep. Two minutes later, he beeped her and she waved, hurrying to the edge of the sidewalk as he slowed down to pick her up.

‘Hi,’ she grinned at him, thrilled to see him.

‘Hi, yourself,’ he grinned back, his face and forearms tanned from working outdoors. ‘There’s Coke in the cooler box if you’d like some.’ He pointed to the
back seat, and she reached over and took a chilled bottle out of the box and drank the cold drink thirstily.

‘Niiiice,’ she murmured, wriggling her feet out of her high heels.

‘Sit back and enjoy the ride,’ he instructed, swinging left and heading for FDR. The traffic was moving well enough for a Friday, and her heart lifted several miles on as she saw the
Triboro Bridge in the distance. It was nice to get off Manhattan sometimes. As they turned on to the Bruckner Expressway, the traffic slowed and JJ tapped his long fingers impatiently on the wheel.
‘Only drawback, everyone else wants to get off Manhattan on a sunny Friday afternoon. I can do the trip in forty-five minutes on a normal day,’ he said as he geared up again and moved a
few hundred yards.

After they crossed the bridge, he took the left ramp on to I-278E and headed upstate towards New England, leaving Pelham Manor and New Rochelle behind until he took the turn-off to Larchmont on
the shore of Long Island Sound.

‘This is
lovely
, JJ! I’ve never been this far upstate. It’s very New England. It’s great to be so near the water, it’s fabulous!’ Alison enthused, eyes
swivelling left and right.

‘Yeah, and it’s only twenty-five miles to drive, and that’s coming from downtown,’ he remarked as they drove through a very pretty, bustling little town with elegant
Victorian buildings mingling with more contemporary ones. There were plenty of stores and restaurants, and a fine marina. It was a completely different world to the one they’d left just over
an hour ago.

Ten minutes later, he took a left at a narrow, winding, tree-lined road and stopped about half a mile along, in front of a large, double-fronted, freshly painted clapboard house with a big
outhouse on the left and a trailer parked to the right. Trees surrounded the grounds, and the lawn was as big as a meadow.


Wow!
’ she exclaimed. ‘So this is where you’ve been hiding since you left 3B.’

‘Yep,’ he said proudly, studying her intently. ‘I wanted to put some sort of manners on it before I brought you to see it.’

‘Well, you showed me pictures of it months ago, and it looks nothing like what I saw in them. You really
have
worked hard on it. I thought you were seeing someone,’ she
teased.

‘Yeah, I was, this is her, all dressed in white,’ he said with a glint in his eye, jerking a thumb in the direction of the house. He got out of the jeep and came around to open the
door for her. ‘So what do you think, my little
Anam Cara
?’ he asked as he put an arm around her and she snuggled in to him.

‘I think it’s beautiful,’ Alison said as they began to walk across the lush green grass towards the house. She felt
very
certain that she was coming home.

P
ROLOGUE

He could feel the heat of the sun streaming over him, and had a flash of vibrant memory of lying with his brother in a field of prickly golden stubble, the scent of new-cut
straw filling his nostrils, the drone of the tractor fading as it drove away, towing its bounty of neat bales to the nearby farm.

BOOK: Coming Home for Christmas
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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