Page 4 of Christmas Sunrise
"Oh, yes, it's upstairs." Cynthia looks at her hands. "James, would you make yourself useful and go get it."
"But I'm about to crack this sudoku." James puts his pen down with a light bang.
"I'll crack your head against something hard in a minute," Cynthia tuts but James is already getting up and leaving the room. She calls out after him, "It's at the back of the wardrobe in the black bag."
"Thank you, James!" I add. "And thank you for looking after it, Cynthia. It's not that I thought Marty would go snooping around but I just wanted to be sure he didn't see it before Christmas."
"You did the right thing. He was terrible as a kid. Would turn the house upside down trying to find presents. Would rope Maeve into it too. James would have to lock everything in the shed to make sure he didn't find anything."
I laugh lightly. "I'm not totally surprised. And where is Maeve? Is she here?"
"Upstairs getting ready. She didn't get in from a job until after midnight last night and of course three days ago she was in LA so she probably doesn't know if she's coming or going."
"I'm looking forward to seeing her later on," I say. "If she's not too tired to come to the pub, that is."
"She'll be there. She told me how much she was looking forward to it."
"Shehas a name, Ma," Maeve says as she walks into the room.
My smile is unstoppable as I see Maeve all made up and looking as stunning as ever in tight black jeans and a cropped sweater that accentuates her narrow waist. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a thick plait revealing a face that looks ready for a big night out, but I know well enough that this is just how Maeve likes to face the world.
"Hello you," I say as I come to hug someone I very much regard as family.
"Hey yourself," she says as she returns my embrace.
"How are you?" I say into her hair as I take in a gulp of her signature Maeve scent, a sweet sugary smell laced with coconut.
"Absolutely fucken knackered." She sighs as she pulls back.
"Well, you look beautiful."
"And that's all that matters," she replies with a forced smile and dismissive eye roll. "You got a coffee?"
"Your dad made me one." I lift up my cup.
"Lucky you," she says in a tone that someone who didn't know her better would describe as bitter, but that's just Maeve, our queen of deadpanning.
"You know, if you're too tired you can skip the pub tonight," I tell her as she pulls a mug out of a cupboard.
"I'll be grand. Besides, Arabella's coming down especially."
"Oh, is she? That'll be nice to see her again," I say referring to Maeve's best friend since childhood.
"Yeah," Maeve says in a quiet voice before going to the fridge for the milk.
As Maeve then moves to the coffee machine, her father walks back into the room with the bag I asked him and Cynthia to hide many weeks ago.
"Here you go." He hands it to me.
"Thanks so much." I can't stop myself from peeking inside the bag and seeing the set of Japanese chef knives I ordered months ago. I smile to myself as I think about how happy they're going to make Marty, and how surprised he'll be.
"Want to wrap them up here?" Cynthia asks.
"Well, I was going to do it while he was at work but I actually need to go and get some more paper so if you have some that would save me a job."
"Sure you can. Everything you need is in the dining room," Cynthia replies.
"Great." I carry my coffee and bag, making my way for the door.
