Page 3 of Every Christmas Eve
‘I’m so in awe of her,’ I cried. ‘What a little star. A Christmas star, that’s what you are, Little Eve.’
I leaned back on the cold stone wall in wonder at the blinking foal as she took in her new world.
‘And I’m in awe of you,’ he said to me.
I shivered again and he quickly fixed a blanket round my shoulders, then tilted my chin towards him.
‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been wanting to do it for a whole year now.’
I did my best to play it cool, hoping my cheeks wouldn’t let me down again by flushing pink.
‘Um, yes. Yes, I’d like that very much,’ I replied, feeling like my heart might explode, then I slowly closed my eyes as his lips met mine. It was lingering, it was perfect, and it made my insides glow. I had dreamed of this moment a million times, I had longed for it, and now it was really happening.
‘We’d better get back inside, but before we go, please tell me something I’ll remember forever,’ he asked me. ‘Something I can think of when I’m learning Latin and French in a cold Dublin classroom in a few weeks.’
I turned towards him. Our gaze locked. I didn’t have to think fast. I knew exactly what I wanted to say to him, so I sat up straight and looked into his soul.
‘That’s easy,’ I said softly, feeling tears prick my eyes atthe thought of him being so far away from me once more. ‘Every Christmas Eve, let’s always think of this moment, and of our precious Little Eve, no matter where we are, for the rest of our lives.’
He pulled me close again, and I melted into the safety of his strong arms.
‘You, me and Little Eve.’
As we walked our separate ways minutes later, back to the sticky heat of the tea party where no one else knew of our bond, I don’t think I’d ever smiled so much in my life. Ben disappeared to tell his father the news of the foal’s unexpected arrival, and I joined my parents, who were already tipsy on the fizzy wine.
As small talk surrounded me and laughter filled the air, I knew in my young heart I could easily love him forever, but I also knew that life would have very different plans for us.
The youngest Heaney boy was worldly, whereas I was naïve and protected in my small family circle. He was gentle and kind but wild and carefree, and led such a different life from me.
Yet he’d agreed to our promise, and although we only had a few wonderful Christmas Eves together after that, before a final, heart-wrenching goodbye, I’ve never forgotten that very first kiss in the stable where we brought new life into the world before our very eyes.
These days I think of him just like we agreed to every Christmas Eve.
And I can’t help but wonder, wherever he might be, if Ben Heaney still thinks of me too.
CHAPTER ONE
Lou
NOW
Sixteen Days to Christmas Eve
I hold my lukewarm mug of hot chocolate with both hands and stare up at the azure late afternoon sky, its crescent moon hanging above Jupiter, just over the steeple on Church Island in Lough Beg.
‘A sign of positive decisions, perhaps,’ I ponder, swaying slightly in the cutting winter breeze. ‘Ihavemade the right decision coming back here, haven’t I?’
Maybe the more times I say it, the sooner I’ll end up believing it.
It’s been a bitterly cold day in our village, yet reasonably calm for December, with only the odd drizzle of icy rain now and then. Nana Molly, who is due here any minute, is delighted there’s no snow yet despite the reports, but I can’t help wishing for some proper frosty weather to get us all in the Christmas mood.
More Christmas spirit means more shoppers, which is better for all of us in this tiny corner of the world.
The festive tree is standing proud in the village, there’s a huge crib in the local church and I’ve spent the entire afternoon busting my guts to decorate Buds and Beans, my florist’s-cum-coffee bar, with lights and candles on anything that will hold them. And with only half an hour till Monday’s earlier closing time, I’m already thinking of how I’d murder a foot rub and a glass of something bubbly back at my cosy new cottage as a reward for all my hard labour.
The glass of bubbles I can sort in a heartbeat. The foot rub – well, that part’s a bit trickier to arrange unless I do it myself.
‘You always were a daydreamer, even at school, Lou Doherty.’
