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

Chapter 29

29

Hannah was halfway through her tea when Tom finally looked up, the light glinting off his glasses as he pushed the laptop back toward her. She bit her bottom lip, closing it down and waiting for him to say something, but frustratingly, he just picked up his tea and sipped it. Patience had never been one of her virtues. She tapped the side of her mug, wishing for Imogen’s fingernails because it was nowhere near as satisfying when hers didn’t make the tip-tap sound.

Kitty’s sudden throat-clearing appearance saw them both glance toward the door.

‘Hello there.’ Princess Leia was at her feet, her molten eyes firmly on Tom, her lip beginning to peel back.

Hannah was aware of a pair of trainer-clad feet thudding onto the seat next to her as Tom raised his legs to ensure his ankles were out of reach of the little dog. Oh, to be so small and mighty! she thought, amused as Princess Leia was told off by Kitty for snarling.

‘There’ll be no treat if you don’t cut that out,’ she admonished the chihuahua.

Hannah grinned as the little dog immediately sat back on her haunches, blinking up at Kitty angelically.

As Kitty fetched the little bag of doggy treats, she remarked, ‘You two looked very shifty just now.’

‘We’re not up to anything shifty, are we, Tom?’ Hannah was indignant, flashing back to being busted having had a sly cigarette down the back of the park or a sneaky sip from the top shelf behind the bar in the wayward youth she’d conveniently forgotten about earlier.

‘Not at all. Sure, we’re just enjoying a cup of tea, is all, and Hannah asked me to read the letter she sent to the Department of Agriculture. It’s well written.’ He looked at Hannah with an acknowledging nod.

‘Thanks.’

‘I thought so, too,’ Kitty said, not looking convinced.

This would be Nan’s opportunity to tell Tom why the land and famine cottage meant so much to her personally, but when she didn’t say anything further, Hannah decided not to keep nudging the topic along. Tom had read her letter, so it was best to let him digest it without pushing things too far, as she was prone to doing.

Kitty didn’t feel the same way. ‘So, what will you do about it, Tom?’ she demanded.

Tom cleared his throat. ‘My client’s aware of the strength of feeling in the community.’

‘Nan—’ Hannah began, but Kitty abruptly changed the subject.

‘How did the knitting class go?’ she asked, stooping down to give Princess Leia the promised treats from the palm of her hand.

‘Surprisingly well.’ Hannah glanced to Tom, who reiterated that it had but left her to explain the details. ‘Eileen thought the classes would be a good distraction for local, wayward teens and give them something to do in the evening between now and Christmas. It’s a sort of community-service arrangement she came to with Sergeant Badger.’

‘Good for Eileen doing her bit. I always say there’s no such thing as a bad child, only a lost child.’ Kitty straightened, and her brow furrowed. ‘So why did Eileen invite you along? I don’t recall you ever expressing a strong desire to learn to knit. I can’t speak for yourself, of course, Tom. Aren’t you both a little long in the tooth for mixing with teenagers?’

‘Well’ – Hannah sat up straighter, determined to seize her moment to shine – ‘Eileen says I’m a role model because of the strength of my convictions.’

Kitty’s reading glasses, used predominantly for recipe reading and watching the television, slid down her nose upon hearing that. ‘I’d have said that was stubbornness.’

Hannah chose to pretend she hadn’t heard. ‘With Tom, I think Eileen thought his country-boy-made-good vibe would resonate with the kids.’

This time, Tom’s glasses needed to be pushed back up his nose. ‘Jaysus, Hannah. You make me sound like Garth Brooks without the cowboy hat. Is that what you thought her angle was?’

‘Well, yeah, she made it pretty clear getting you to drop in where you were from and what it was like moving to Dublin as a culchie.’

‘You don’t think there might be more to me than someone who moved to Dublin and did OK for themself?’ Tom rubbed his temples. ‘You really do judge a book by its cover.’

‘I wish you’d stop saying that. I’m just pointing out why Eileen invited you tonight.’

Kitty, whose head was moving like a ping pong ball being lobbed across a table, butted in, effectively ending that line of conversation. ‘And what is it you’re after wanting to knit then?’ She swung her gaze to Hannah first.

The first few green rows she’d got underway this evening floated forth in her mind, and Hannah regrouped. ‘I planned on making booties for Shannon and James’s baby, but with Christmas so close, I’m making a surprise present for someone, and I’ll say no more than that.’

‘Grand.’ Kitty’s blue eyes registered surprise. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you were enthusiastic about knitting.’

‘I haven’t actually started on the present yet, Nan. Eileen had us knitting squares to get the hang of the basics first. She did say I was a natural, though, and how all it took sometimes for hidden talents to be uncovered was a good teacher.’

‘Did she now?’ Kitty’s expression darkened momentarily, but then she brightened, turning to Tom. ‘And what about yourself? What do you plan on graduating to after the squares? A hair shirt perhaps.’

‘Nan!’ Hannah admonished, unused to this prickly side of Kitty.

Tom brushed the remark aside with a good-natured, ‘I suppose wool is sheep hair in a roundabout way. It’s not a shirt I’ve got in mind, though, and this might sound a little large-scale for a beginner, but I like to push myself. I’m a quick learner, too, so I’d like to try knitting a Christmas jumper. I’ve always wanted one.’

Hannah’s eyes rounded. ‘What? Like the reindeer sweater Mark Darcy wears in the first Bridget Jones movie?’

‘I can tell you hand on heart I’ve never seen those films.’

‘Really? Shannon binges them, doesn’t she, Nan?’

‘She does,’ Kitty agreed. ‘Well, not so much now she’s got James, but they were her go-to films when things were rocky with that French fella who gave her the runaround.’

Hannah was already conducting a Google search on her phone for Mark Darcy’s Christmas sweater and, not looking up, said, ‘You won’t be in Emerald Bay long enough to finish your square, let alone a sweater.’

‘Who says I won’t?’

What did he mean by that? Hannah didn’t get a chance to ask.

‘Eileen will get me underway with the basics. I’ll muddle my way through from there.’

‘Still and all, Christmas is just under two weeks away. I can’t see you wearing your sweater this year.’

‘There’s always next Christmas.’ Then, addressing Kitty, Tom said, ‘I’m also a realist, so I thought I’d compromise and settle on a Christmas pullover vest or maybe a gilet for my first attempt. What do you think?’

Before her very eyes, Hannah saw Nan soften as she forgot she viewed Tom as the enemy. Was it the mention of a gilet that had done it? What even was that?

‘I think that’s a grand idea, and I’m erring toward a gilet myself.’

Bingo! Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘Of course a man who wears a tan Burberry coat would want a gilet.’

‘There you go again judging.’

‘I’m not! And that’s getting old. I’m merely stating a fact.’

‘For your information, the Burberry is vintage. You’re not the only one who believes in sustainability.’

Hannah’s surprise saw her suffer lockjaw. Was she going to have to apologise to him for the second time in one evening? And, more to the point, what was a gilet?

‘Oh yes, definitely a gilet. A vest with a zip is very sensible.’ Kitty was clearly enamoured with the idea.

’And will your gilet have a reindeer on the front? I suppose you could have one set of antlers on either side of the zip.’ Hannah’s mouth was trembling as she tried to contain her laughter. She held out her phone and showed Nan the Colin Firth snap she’d unearthed.

Tom took the phone and examined the picture. ‘That could work.’

The upward tilt of his top lip told Hannah he, too, was desperately trying to keep a straight face.

Kitty interrupted the exchange. ‘I might not like what you stand for by being here in Emerald Bay, Tom, but I applaud you for aiming high. And while I’d love to chat with you all evening about your respective knitting projects, I’m missing my programme, so I shall get what I came through for.’ She fetched down the best biscuit tin. ‘There’s no point saving these now. They’re already half gone.’

To Hannah’s gratification, she was offered first pick.

‘I don’t know why I bother with that Love Me, Love Me Not rubbish on the idiot box, though,’ Kitty muttered once Tom had chosen his biscuit. She took the last of the chocolate-covered ones, half talking to herself as she put the lid back on the tin. ‘I think it’s your Casey and Carl’s teeth. I can’t look away from the screen.’

Hannah tried not to spit biscuit crumbs. ‘What do you mean, Nan?’

Tom’s silvery eyes were crinkling, Hannah noticed as Kitty explained the hypnotic effects of the on-again, off-again reality TV couple’s teeth.

‘They’re enormous, so they are. Sure, it’s like watching camels with neon-white gnashers perform a long and dramatic courting ritual. I’m getting fed up with them, to be honest. And it’s unnatural seeing young ones cavorting about in their swimsuits in the sunshine when the rest of us are counting down to Christmas in the cold. I might have to tune in to the Big Brother Reindeer Games special rerun instead.’

‘The teeth are veneers, Nan. Turkey teeth they’re called,’ Hannah supplied.

‘Turkeys don’t have teeth, Hannah. Did they not teach you anything at that school you went to? Besides, I said camels, not turkeys.’ Kitty put the tin away. ‘Come on, Princess Leia – let’s see what that eejit Carl gets up to on his boys’ weekend in Menorca.’

With that, Kitty left Tom and Hannah snickering into their tea.

Once Kitty was settled back in front of the TV and the risk of a chihuahua attack was over, Tom said, ‘I’ll talk to my client.’

Hannah’s head snapped up. ‘You will?’

‘I can’t promise anything, but I’ll ask her to look at other sites.’

That he’d said ‘her’ barely registered. Hannah was taken aback that he’d agreed to stick his neck out for her and Nan. ‘Thank you.’

‘You understand I don’t make the final calls?’

‘I get that.’ She did, but she could still hope.

Hannah was beginning to think she’d been very wrong about Tom Flynn, and the words, ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ spurted forth.

‘Are you asking me out?’

‘No!’

‘Relax. I was teasing you.’

‘I knew that.’ Her face flamed.

Would going on a date with Tom be so unpleasant, though? If she’d been asked yesterday, she’d have found it abhorrent. Now it wasn’t at all unappealing, and stealing a glance at him, she felt a frisson of something that, unlike swimsuits in December, was completely natural. Attraction.

She quickly averted her gaze, picking up the empty mugs and moving to the sink so her back was to him. ‘I want to take you to the famine cottage tomorrow because there’s another story I need to tell you. One I didn’t write in my email.’

‘OK.’

Hannah had decided to tell him about her nan and granddad so he’d understand that, politics aside, the cottage couldn’t be sold.