Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

‘She’s so like Ruth.’ He heard a voice near his ear and realised Lou had joined him.

‘I know. See the way she makes that face.’ They watched Lucy giving out to Pud for being careless. They both laughed at exactly the same time she made the face.

Pud screeched at Lucy’s attempt to take him by the hand and lead him back into the house. He pulled away and threw his hand up in the air in a mini tantrum, then chose to waddle to the house by himself.

‘Who does he remind you of?’ Lou said.

‘Okay, we’d better get moving. You walk down to the harbour, I’ll drive Ruth and the kids into town. Make sure you’re there on time, won’t you? I practically had to bribe Quentin into saying yes about helping him today.’

‘Of course I’ll be there. Don’t you break a leg.’

‘Don’t you drown.’

‘We’ll enjoy the day.’ Lou reached out and shook hands with himself. Their handshake turned into an embrace, and Lou stood on the mountainside giving himself the biggest and warmest hug he’d received in a very long time.

Lou arrived down at the harbour two hours in advance of the race. He hadn’t raced for so many years, he wanted to get accustomed to the talk, get a feel for being on the boat again. He also needed to build up a relationship with the rest of the team: communication was key and he didn’t want to let anybody down. Not true – he didn’t want to let Quentin down. He found the beautiful Alexandra , the forty-foot sailboat Quentin had bought five years ago and that he had since spent every spare penny and every waking moment on. Already on board, Quentin and five others were in a tight group, going over the course and their tactics.

Lou did the math. There were only supposed to be six on the boat; Lou joining them made seven.

‘Hi there,’ he said, approaching them.

‘Lou!’ Quentin looked up in surprise and Lou realised then why there were already six people. Quentin hadn’t trusted him to show up.

‘Not late, am I? You did say nine thirty.’ He tried to hide his disappointment.

‘Yeah, sure, of course.’ Quentin tried to hide his surprise. ‘Absolutely, I just, eh …’ He turned around to the other men waiting and watching. ‘Let me introduce you to the rest of the team. Guys, this is my brother, Lou.’

Surprise flitted across a few faces.

‘We didn’t know you had a brother,’ one smiled, stepping forward to offer his hand. ‘I’m Geoff, welcome. I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘It’s been a while,’ Lou looked uncertainly at Quentin, ‘but Quentin and I were sent on enough sailing courses over the years, it’d be hard for us ever to forget. It’s like riding a bike, isn’t it?’

They laughed and welcomed him aboard.

‘So where do you want me?’ He looked at his brother.

‘Are you really okay to do this?’ Quentin asked him quietly, away from the others.

‘Of course.’ Lou tried not to be offended. ‘Same positions as we used to?’

‘Foredeck man?’ Quentin asked.

‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ Lou smiled, saluting him.

Quentin laughed and turned back to the rest of the crew. ‘Okay, boys, I want us all working in harmony. Remember, let’s talk to each other, I want information flowing up and down the boat at all times. If you haven’t done what you should have done, then shout, we all need to know exactly what’s going on. If we win, I’ll buy the first round.’

They all cheered.

‘Right, Lou,’ he looked at his brother and winked, ‘I know you’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.’

Though untrue, Lou didn’t feel it was a good idea to object.

‘Finally you get your opportunity to see what Alexandra’s made of.’

Lou punched his brother playfully in the side.

Ruth pushed Pud’s buggy through Fusiliers Arch and they entered St Stephen’s Green, a park right in the centre of Dublin city. An ice rink had been set up in the grounds, attracting shoppers and people from all around the country to join in the unique experience. Passing the duck-filled lake and walking over O’Connell Bridge, they soon entered a wonderland. Instead of the usual manicured gardens, a Christmas market had been set up, lavishly decorated and looking like it had come straight out of a Christmas movie. Stalls selling hot chocolate with marshmallows, mince pies and fruit cakes lined the paths and the smell of cinnamon, cloves and marzipan oozed into the air. Each stall owner was dressed as an elf, while Christmas tunes blared out of the speakers, icicles dripped from the roof of every stall and machines blew fake snow through the air.

Santa’s Igloo was the centre of attention, a long queue forming outside, while elves dressed in green rags and pointy shoes did their best to entertain the waiting masses. Giant red and white striped candy canes formed an archway into the igloo, while bubbles blew from the chimneytop and floated up into the sky. On one patch of grass a group of children – umpired by an elf – played tug of war with an oversized Christmas cracker. A Christmas tree twenty feet tall had been erected and decorated in oversized baubles and tinsel. Hanging from the branches were giant water balloons, which a queue of children – but more daddies – threw holly-covered balls at in an attempt to burst the balloons and release the gifts inside. A red-faced elf, wet from the exploding balloons, ran around collecting gifts from the floor, while his accomplice filled more balloons and passed them to another team-mate to hang on the branches. There was no whistling while they worked.

Pud’s chubby little forefinger pointed in every direction as something new caught his eye. Lucy, who was usually all chat, had suddenly gone very quiet. Her chocolate-brown hair was cut bluntly at her chin, her fringe stopped above eyebrows that shaped big brown eyes. She was dressed in a bright red coat that went to her knees, double-breasted with oversized black buttons and a black fur collar, cream tights and shiny black shoes. She held on to Pud’s buggy with one hand and floated along beside them all, drifting away in a heaven of her own. Every now and then she’d see something and look up to Lou and Ruth with the biggest smile on her face. Nobody said anything. They didn’t need to. They all knew.

Further away from the Christmas market they found the ice rink, which was swarmed by hundreds of people young and old, the queue snaking alongside the rink so that those who crashed and fell could be viewed by spectators who chuckled at every comedy fall.

‘Why don’t you all go and watch the show?’ Lou said, referring to the mini-pantomime that was being performed in the bandstand. Dozens of children sat on deckchairs, entranced by the magical world before them. ‘I’ll queue for us.’

It was a generous gesture and a selfish one both at the same time, for Lou Suffern couldn’t possibly change overnight. He had made the attempt to spend the day with his family, but already his BlackBerry was burning a hole in his pocket and he needed time to check it before he quite simply exploded.

‘Okay, thanks,’ Ruth said, pushing Pud over to join Lou in the queue. ‘We shouldn’t be too long.’

‘What are you doing?’ Lou asked, panicked.

‘Going to watch the show.’

‘Aren’t you taking him?’

‘No. He is asleep. He’ll be fine with you.’

She headed off hand-in-hand with a skipping Lucy, while Lou looked at Pud with mild panic and full of prayer for him not to wake. He had one eye on his BlackBerry, the other on Pud, and a third eye that he had never known he had on the group of teenagers in front of him, who had suddenly started shouting and jumping around as their hormones got the better of them, each screech from their mouths and jerk of their gawky hand movements a threat to his sleeping child. He suddenly became aware of the level of ‘Jingle Bells’ being filtered through the speakers, of the feedback that sounded like a five-car pile-up when a voice cut in to announce a separated family member that was waiting by The Elf Centre. He was aware of every single solitary sound, every squeal of a child on the ice, every shout as their fathers fell on their arses, every crack of bones. On high alert, as though waiting for somebody to attack at any moment, the BlackBerry and its flashing red light went back in his pocket. The queue moved on and he ever so slowly pushed the buggy up the line.