5 Peppermint Grove by Michelle Jackson Page B

going this way I’d be better off starting an emigration service instead of a travel company.”
    Just then the front door opened again and Carol walked in, laden with bags and gifts from her bridge friends.
    “Well, that’s the end of bridge now until January!” Carol chirped.
    Michael and Julia looked at each other and smiled.
    “What’s the bet you’ll be playing bridge online before the night is out?” Michael said.
    “See,” Julia said. “He’s only home two days and already he knows your form!”
     
    Angela hardly spoke all the way down in the car. It reminded her of a journey to a funeral. In a way it would be her son’s wake. Her beautiful grandchildren were moving to the far end of Canada and she had no idea when she would see them again. Things would be tough for Kevin for the first couple of years. No one understood that better than Angela herself. And then there were the temptations and new people and friends – people that you weren’t sure if you could trust or not. It wasn’t like home where everyone knows someone belonging to somebody. If her children brought a boyfriend or girlfriend home she would be able to track down their family from any part of Ireland and have some idea of what they were like. New countries held all sorts of secrets. It was in her interest that those secrets and events from her own past were tucked far away on the other side of the world and that is why it didn’t sit comfortably with her that Ruth would soon be returning to the very same city she herself had fled so long ago.
    “Penny for your thoughts, Angela,” Fred asked gently as they drove along the M7 in silence.
    “Oh, I’m just going to miss the grandchildren.”
    “It’s for the best – it will all sort out.”
    “And where will we be spending next Christmas then?” she snapped.
    “Don’t blame me – we still have Niall in Dublin.”
    “And we can always visit Ruth in Australia, I suppose,” she said.
    “Ah, it’s a long way to be going – she’ll only be gone two years.”
    “Maybe not – she might meet an Australian and settle down.”
    “Ruth is a home-bird. She’ll be back,” Fred assured her.
    Angela turned and looked out the window. “I do hope that you are right.”
     
    Julia basted the turkey for a second time. It was browning nicely and the succulent juices flowed down the side of the bird. The aroma from it wafted through the house along with the scent of her cedar-pine scented candles. She was excited about the stunning feast and the addition of her brother and Ruth was making the day perfect. Perfect apart from the absence of her father of course, but, as she put the bird onto the granite surface that he had built himself, she felt his spirit with her.
    Carol had a glass of wine in her hand and Horatio was settled in front of the fire.
    The doorbell rang with the first of the guests to arrive. She wiped her hands in a tea towel and went out to the front door. Ruth’s arms were laden with colourful packages tied up with silver string and bows.
    Julia reached out and took some from her friend and planted a Christmas kiss on her cheek.
    “Merry Christmas, Ruth – I’m so glad you’re spending the day with us.”
    “Me too. I don’t think I could stand the tension between my mother and Orla for a full twenty-four hours – especially in Orla’s house.”
    “I’d love to be a fly on the wall in Kerry,” Julia giggled.
    “I don’t know who I feel more sorry for!” said Ruth. “Actually, I do I feel for Mum. It can’t be easy for her. First losing her son to Kerry and now her grandchildren to Canada, but maybe this will make her get on the plane and hopefully visit us both during the year.”
    “I love your mum, Ruth,” Julia said, “but I’ve always wondered how she managed living in Australia. Maybe you’ll get some insight now that you’ll be living there.”
    Ruth nodded hopefully. “Where’s your mum – in the living room?”
    “Yeah, go on in to her