Saving Christmas in the Little Irish Village (The Little Irish Village #5)

Chapter 26

26

Hannah’s day sped by in a blur of text messages from friends who’d seen the video of Nan and were cheering them on. As for the Gazette , she was thankful its readership didn’t extend beyond the west country because the ribbing she’d taken from her sisters had been bad enough. She’d told them one by one where to go.

Her phone had been glued to her hand all day, even though common sense told her such a quick response from the Department of Agriculture was as likely as coming across the American woman walking down one of the lanes she and Princess Leia had roamed. Still, she’d checked her emails with religious fervour; other than a standard acknowledgement that her letter had been received and someone would be in touch shortly, there’d been nothing. At least she had breathing space where Dylan was concerned. Whatever he was planning, nothing would happen until next weekend because he wouldn’t be able to leave the Feed the World office before then, not when they were short-staffed with her absence.

She’d been sorely tempted to unload all her confused feelings onto someone, namely Freya, given that she was the only person Hannah had confided in about her feelings for Dylan. But in the end, she’d decided Freya had enough on her plate dealing with her post-break-up blues. Anyway, Hannah knew she wouldn’t condone Dylan’s wilful damage in Cork if she came clean about that, not as a business owner.

That was why, once she’d cleared away the dinner things, Hannah was almost glad to take herself off to the community hall, where Eileen had informed her the learn-to-knit class would be held. The numbers were too high for her woollen shop to host, she’d said self-importantly when she’d poked her head through the connecting door to the pub earlier to let her know where to go and to bring a fiver sub.

Hannah stuffed the crisp new note she’d borrowed off her dad in her pocket as she tugged her coat on. She resented paying Eileen a fee and hoped it meant she’d have at least nipped down to the hall earlier to put the heating on. If not, the cavernous space would be like a mausoleum, and the thought of hunching over a pair of knitting needles in arctic conditions made her shiver. Nan was shouting at the reality television programme she was watching, and Mam and Dad were busy in the pub, but she called out a cheerio anyway.

Outside, a steady drizzle had replaced the day’s mist, and Hannah pulled her hood up, pausing to look up at the sky. She could see tiny droplets of water that would otherwise be invisible caught in the sensor light’s beam. The accuracy of the forecast and whether they’d be in for snow this Christmas had been a hot topic around the dinner table. If so, it would be the third year in a row they’d been blessed with a white Christmas, Hannah thought, flashing back to Ava’s gorgeous wedding. It had been white in more ways than one!

At this time of year, the road snaking past the park to the small stone church with its community-hall appendage was pitch-black. It was only a short walk away, up and around the back of the park, but the risk of twisting an ankle down a pothole was real, so she clambered behind Doris’s wheel and crossed her fingers, hoping she’d start.

‘You’re a grand little car altogether,’ Hannah said, grinning into the darkness as Doris obliged, her engine roaring into life, and with the heater blasting, she headed off, arriving at the church in the blink of an eye.

Hannah pulled into the designated parking area off to the side of the hall and nipped in alongside Eileen’s car. It wasn’t a tight squeeze given hers was the only other vehicle there.

What with Eileen’s comments about her shop not being large enough to accommodate everyone who’d booked in for tonight’s class, Hannah had expected a few other cars at least and checked her phone, but she was bang on time. Seven sharp, Eileen had said.

Wiping her brow, she vowed to splurge on fixing Doris’s heater before returning to Cork after the holidays. Still, for now, it was pointless sitting here sweltering like she’d dressed inappropriately for a day at the beach.

Hannah clambered out of her car and thrust her hand in her pocket to check on the fiver, which was still there. ‘Eileen better not hit me up for the shortfall if tonight’s class is one-on-one,’ she muttered to herself, her feet crunching over shingle as she walked round the corner to the hall’s entrance.

The garish yellow glow from the fluorescent tube lights inside momentarily blinded her as she pulled open the door, and the aroma that instantly hit her caused her sense of smell to go into overdrive. Coffee and sausage rolls , she thought, blinking against the bobbing light spots on her retinas, with an underlying hint of egg sambos .

Her vision cleared enough for her to focus on the group slouching in a semi-circle around Eileen in the middle of the hall.

What the…? Hannah did a double take. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all because if it wasn’t for Eileen, unmissable in a pink-and-orange polka-dot knit that would make your eyes bleed, she’d have thought she’d got her wires well and truly crossed. She didn’t know what she’d expected this evening, but this lot here looked like poster kids for youth delinquency, not a learn-to-knit group, and clearing her throat, she hung back by the entrance. ‘Erm, Eileen, hello there. Can I have a word, please?’

‘We’ll get started in just a minute,’ the knitting shop owner told the bored group brightly. Not one of them bothered glancing up from their screens.

Hannah noted that beneath each of their chairs was an unopened kit bag for the evening ahead, and she was relieved Eileen wasn’t leaving them holding knitting needles that could be used as weapons. She folded her arms across her chest as Eileen set aside the name roll she’d been busily ticking off and closed the distance between them.

‘Why are you and I the only people over sixteen here?’ Hannah demanded, keeping her voice low, not wanting the motley crew over yonder to overhear. She wished she could slip on a pair of sunglasses to block out those polka dots. The hall had been pimped up for Christmas by Nan’s origami group, too, she noticed, taking in the paper angels hanging from a piece of string along with the truckload of tinsel tossed about the place.

‘Ah, well now, Hannah. The thing is, I’ve not been completely transparent with you regarding my learning-to-knit classes.’

‘You don’t say.’ This didn’t bode well. ‘Tell me more.’

‘You see, it was a role model I was after.’

Hannah wondered if she had water in her ears. Was Eileen saying she was a role model? She’d been called many things over the years, but that was a first. She’d not let the older woman win her over with flattery, though, because role model or not, she’d no wish to spend her evenings attempting to inspire moody teenagers. As such, she edged backwards to the door.

Eileen’s eyes narrowed. ‘C’mere to me now, Hannah Kelly, and hear me out.’

Hannah exhaled through clenched teeth, knowing she’d no choice but to listen. For one thing, Eileen’s hand shot out and was hanging on to her arm like a crab would a toe.

The formidable woman’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. ‘I’m surprised at you being so judgmental. Those youngsters there are a mixed bag from the bay and Kilticaneel. They’re only children, playing at being grown-ups. Your memory’s not so bad that you can’t remember yourself at the same age. You were forever getting into trouble with your various stunts around Emerald Bay.’

‘I never did anything illegal, Eileen; I was only ever trying to be heard.’ Eileen’s remark about her being judgmental had hit home.

‘And you sailed close to the wind doing so. You were a menace at times, so you were. This lot here has been sailing mightily close to the wind, too, and they’ve a choice of two paths to go down. Unfortunately, Sergeant Badger says they’re after taking a few steps down the wrong one, but it’s not too late to get them to do a U-turn. It’s boredom that causes them to get into bother. Someone has to do something.’

That gave Hannah pause. It wasn’t always easy being a teenager in a rural village where throwing yourself on your bed and declaring that there was nothing to do in Emerald Bay was a rite of passage. This wasn’t true, of course, but an appreciation for all the area had to offer, including carefree childhood memories – the abandoned farm and famine cottage sprang to mind – didn’t come until you’d left it for a while. She could recall how often she’d wished there was somewhere else to hang out over the two-week Christmas break other than freezing her arse off at the park or down at the bay. It was funny how fourteen days could seem interminable when you were young, and Emerald Bay and Kilticaneel sorely lacked safe spaces for its youth.

Realising Eileen was still talking, she tuned back in.

‘Sergeant Badger broached the need for constructive activities to be offered at a residents’ meeting a few weeks back. Of course, there’s no funding in the kitty for a proper youth club like they had in my day – the council cut all of that years back – but I set my mind to coming up with a way of keeping the kids who need to be kept busy off the street. That’s when I came up with the idea of giving them something to do with their hands other than vaping.’

‘Learning to knit,’ Hannah murmured.

‘Exactly.’

‘It’s a noble idea, all right, but how on earth did you get them to agree to come along?’ The last thing she’d have been interested in doing at their age was spending her evenings knitting.

‘I’ve Sergeant Badger to thank for that. He was after having a little word about the options they might find themselves left with. Community service in the freezing cold every weekend between now and next Easter or two weeks, Monday to Friday, in the run-up to Christmas, learning to knit in the warmth of the church hall with me.’

Eileen was a force to be reckoned with. Still, Hannah didn’t fancy her chances of getting a group of angsty teens to pay attention when they weren’t here of their own volition. She kept this to herself, asking instead, ‘I don’t understand why you’ve got me pegged as a role model? I wouldn’t even know how to cast on.’

‘That’s what you’re here to learn how to do, and why you’re here has nothing to do with knitting.’

Hannah stared at her blankly. That didn’t make sense.

‘It’s because of your convictions, Hannah.’

This saw her bristle. Who did Eileen think she was, casting aspersions like that? Hannah was quick to put her right. ‘I don’t have any convictions, thank you very much, Eileen. At least none that have stuck.’

‘Not those sorts of convictions. I’m talking about you wanting to make the world better for future generations and not being frightened to say so. You’ve got passion. You speak up and make yourself heard. If you could pass on even a tiny amount of that fire to these kids sitting here tonight, you might inspire them to channel their energy into doing right, not wrong.’

Hannah was floored. She’d always assumed most of Emerald Bay’s residents thought she was an annoying do-gooder, but that wasn’t what Eileen had just said. Eileen saw her as someone with passion, someone inspirational – a role model, no less. How could she turn her back and walk away now?

Then again, would it be hypocritical to stay? Hadn’t she been complicit by not speaking up and telling Dylan he’d gone too far with his protest in Cork? Nor had she been courageous enough to ask him to leave Emerald Bay to her because she still desperately wanted his admiration. It frightened her, the uncertainty of how far she’d go. Would Eileen want her here if she knew the truth?

She wasn’t role-model material, not at all.

‘I need someone here the kids can relate to. I’ll keep them in line; you’ll keep them onside.’

Eileen wasn’t giving up. Hannah, filled with indecision, looked over to where the troops were getting restless. What would it be like to open their eyes to things that were in their power to change to ensure the world didn’t just survive but thrived for themselves and future generations? Would the good deed outweigh the bad?