Christmas to Come: a heartbreaking coming of age saga set in London's East End Carol Rivers (best sales books of all time .txt) 📖

Epilogue

December 25th 1965

Isle of Dogs

East London

The airey was filled with bright, sparkling decorations. With Michael's help Bella had strung the paper chains across the ceiling, secured in each corner with a bunch of different coloured balloons. The tree glistened in the corner, silver, red and blue tinsel entwined in its branches. The fairy lights twinkled and the star on top was dotted with silver glitter, reflecting the rainbow hues of the room. Mistletoe and holly hung from the lights and doorways. All the presents were under the tree as yet unopened.

The turkey was in the oven and Bella was putting the last touches to the trifle when Michael walked in the kitchen. For a moment Bella was taken back many years. It was Micky standing there, gazing at her with his beautiful eyes. Michael was now as tall and handsome as his father had been at sixteen. A mirror image even though his hair was a dark auburn and he wore it in the fashion of his favourite group the Beatles, there was no doubting he was a blood-born Bryant.

'I'm off to church then, Mum.' He was going to the eleven o'clock Christmas Day service with his girlfriend and her parents. 'Me and Francesca will be back this afternoon for tea.'

'It won't be ready till six.'

'Good. I'll have time to let Mrs Sullivan's dinner go down first.' He laughed Micky's laugh, bending to kiss her.

'Wish the Sullivans a happy Christmas from me.'

'They've invited us for New Year's Eve.'

Bella nodded slowly. 'That will be nice.'

'Can Uncle Ron come too?'

'Is the invite for him as well?'

'Mrs Sullivan said if any of the family want to come …?'

Bella hadn't realized the young romance was getting so serious. 'All right. You can ask him yourself later today.'

They went outside and up the airey steps. She shuddered as a cold breeze whistled past them. Michael climbed on his bike. She put her hand on his arm. 'I wish you would let me take you in the car. The weatherman said snow's on its way.'

'I like a bit of fresh air. And Mr Sullivan will put my bike in his boot when he brings us home.'

Bella gave in, watching him cycle off. Her brown eyes under her short, neat bob went proudly over her son. He was growing up fast and was fiercely independent. But out of all the girls on the island, Michael had chosen Francesca Sullivan for his first steady girlfriend.

The Sullivans were an Irish family and devout Catholics. For the last six months, Michael and Francesca had been seeing each other every free minute they had. The Sullivans lived in Blackwall and Ciaran and Molly Sullivan were hard working people with a big family. Francesca had four brothers and two sisters. Ciaran Sullivan ruled his family with a rod of iron. It was a sin to eat meat on a Friday, or to miss Mass on Sunday or to omit a weekly confession. Of course, Mary had been delighted that her grandson had found the faith again. An irony, Bella thought, seeing the catastrophic lapsing of the Doyle household!

If the Sullivans knew anything of her chequered past, they had never said, Bella mused thoughtfully. Not that she knew them well, only in passing. The New Year's get-together would be interesting.

A car pulled up, the first of several that would arrive today. Gina and Lenny climbed out, both wearing smart coats and hats. 'Take care on that contraption, young Michael,' Gina shouted after the disappearing cyclist. 'And say one for us.'

Michael waved before he turned the corner. 'I thought it was Micky,' Gina said breathlessly as she greeted Bella. 'He's the spitting image.'

'Yes, in some ways.' Bella kissed Lenny on the cheek. 'Happy Christmas, Len.'

'You too, gel. Is Ron in?'

'I should think so. His car's there.'

'Do you mind if I go and have a beer with him first?'

Bella pretended to look disappointed. 'I was hoping you was going to help me stuff the turkey.'

Gina rolled her dark eyes and pushed him up the steps. 'Go on, you lemon. I'll give Bella a hand with dinner.'

Half an hour later, when all was prepared, Bella and Gina were seated beside the glowing fire. There were carols on the radio and Mrs Bryant's big extending dining table was now moved down to the airey and set with shining cutlery, linen napkins and tall stemmed glasses. Although Sean and Ashley were taking their annual skiing holiday, Mary, Gus and Teresa were coming for dinner and this year the Shines were joining them too. It would be a full house and Bella and Gina were enjoying the calm before the storm.

Gina raised her ruby red glass of cream sherry. 'Chin-chin, old girl.'

Bella did the same. They sipped and smiled at one another, close friends and working partners, comfortable in each others company as the mellow feeling of Christmas enveloped them.

'Did you see about McNee in the paper?' Gina ventured, as though she was reluctant to say the name.

Bella nodded. 'The report said it was a gangland killing. That McNee's body had been under the demolished bridge for at least two years.'

'No wonder the police couldn't find him after Micky's death.'

Bella nodded as she gazed into the fire. Time had helped to heal the wounds since Micky had died that rainy night in Soho when Ronnie had used the card she had in her bag to call Inspector Reynolds. After they had taken Micky away, they had given their statements, but much to their bitter disappointment there was no other evidence to support Micky's claims that McNee had been his assailant. However, during the next few weeks McNee disappeared. Now it seemed as though Micky's bone-chilling prophecy had come true.

'You know, Lenny's not forgotten what you and Ronnie did for him - kept shtum about the Manor.'

Bella smiled at her friend. 'Lenny is a good man, Gina.'

'Yes, but the good took a long while turning up.'

'It did in the end.'

'He still feels bad