Page 68 of A Miracle on Hope Street
She has prepared a sweet and fluffy fresh-fruit Pavlova, which looks like a big, puffy, marshmallow pillow decorated with bright red pomegranate arils. Then she lifts the lid on a baked orange-and-cranberry cheesecake, followed by a chai sticky date pudding with toffee sauce and finally, a chocolate pumpkin brûlée pie.
‘You are averytalented little minx,’ I say to her, giving her a quick hug. ‘Come on, let’s go and meet the others and relax for a while. You definitely deserve to put your feet up today!’
Michael joins us in the sitting room and I urge him to take a seat too as I serve out drinks and offer round canapés to our guests who now include Marian, who is chatting to my mother like they’ve known each other all their lives and I go to the door just moments later to see Molly, Jack and little Marcus, much to my delight.
My heart lifts when I set eyes on the three of them and I take their coats and welcome them inside.
‘It isn’t much,’ says Molly, handing me a wrapped gift, ‘but it’s very much from the heart.’
‘I will treasure it, whatever it is,’ I say to her. ‘You must be Jack? And this little cutie pie is Marcus? We’ve some lovely surprises for you today, my darling!’
Jack looks nervous as hell, as does Molly, but when I take them in and everyone greets them so warmly I can feel them relax instantly.
Michael gives me a thumbs-up very discreetly when he gets the chance. He knows how worried I was earlier, as was he, when he had a hunch that they might not make it after all.
‘I think you should make a welcome speech,’ he whispers to me when he comes closer. ‘You know, break the ice a little.’
I had thought of that, I must admit, but that’s as far as it had gone. What would I say? I really wanted to avoid any formalities but I suppose it is my job as host to put everyone at ease.
‘Okay, I’ll do it then. Here goes.’
I ping a glass to get everyone’s attention and when all eyes are on me I clear my throat.
‘I really don’t intend to make any big speeches or make any of you feel like you’re at some big formal “do” but, from my heart, I want to give you a really big welcome to our home today,’ I say to them all. Some are seated, some are standing, but all are listening which is a pretty good start. ‘All of you know me as Ruth Ryans, the celebrity agony aunt, but today I’m just a person extending a welcome to each of you, with some good food, the finest of company and we’ll just wing it and see how it goes. So, let’s raise a glass – here’s to winging it!’
I grab a glass and, to my surprise, everyone bursts into applause which I believe was started by Nicholas, then they all raise a glass echoing my sentiments.
‘To winging it!’ they chime and my heart soars.
I’ve a feeling that Nicholas is going to be the entertainment for the day in many ways, and not just through his fine musicianship. He seems great fun and totally wacky which makes me love him already.
‘There are two people I’d like to introduce you all to,’ I continue, ‘and the first person is my darling mother Elena who has not been in this house for many years, but I’d like to welcome her home today and I’m so honoured to say that she is one of my co-hosts even though she doesn’t realise it.’
Everyone laughs and my mother puts her hand to her chest but I know she is secretly delighted to be looked upon, not with pity or any tiptoeing around, but as an equal here today and in her own right too.
‘You two would pass easily for sisters!’ says Nicholas with a loud guffaw and everyone giggles in agreement.
‘And this chap to my right is Michael who, to be honest, has done most of the hard work prepping for today,’ I explain, much to Michael’s shy response. ‘He shopped for the food, he has prepared and cooked everything and I can honestly say you are in for quite a treat today, so thank you in advance to Michael for all his efforts on making everything run so smoothly so far.’
‘No pressure!’ says Michael, raising a glass in jest.
‘To Michael,’ shouts Marian, raising her glass too and the others all join in.
‘Kelly here has made the most delectable desserts; Nicholas, if we ask him nicely, just might be on song for a tune; Marian will have a little job to do later, even though she didn’t know that until now,’ I say and she giggles in surprise ‘but Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without a beautiful child and I’m so pleased to have Jack, Molly and their gorgeous little Marcus here to fill our hearts with joy. Make yourselves at home and, most of all, have a great day, everyone!’
Again, more applause and Mum dutifully does another round with drinks without me having to ask her to. Michael slips out to check on the kitchen goings on and everyone chats amongst each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
‘Bathroom is further down the hallway, past the stairs on the right,’ I say as loudly as I can but it doesn’t seem like anyone is listening to me any more. They’re too busy getting to know each other, so I just stand there and drink it all in.
A group of strangers, here in my family sitting room, on Christmas Day, all getting to know each other, far away from the lonely or pressurised existence they have left behind for just one day with someone to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone to share food and drinks with – the simplest of things yet the greatest of pleasures. I think of Gloria and her generosity, but most of all I watch Elena, my darling mother, chat and mingle amongst our guests with ease and my heart almost bursts with pride.
I close my eyes and think of my daddy, Anthony Ryans, who would have been in his glory had he been in the midst of all this today. How interested he would have been in getting to know each and every person – he had that unique way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room, made everyone feel so special, and he always, always plucked out a rose amongst the thorns of someone’s lives and made that their focus, no matter how troubled their background may have been.
I also think of young Paul Connolly who almost made it here today and I can’t help but imagine that poor boy, now buried in an almost anonymous grave with no one to visit him, dying all alone. I’ll make a point of bringing him flowers as often as I can.
Michael pops his head around the sitting-room door, interrupting my train of thought before I get too maudlin.
‘Slight, no,majorproblem!’ he mouths to me and waves me out towards him. ‘Come quickly!’
