‘I’m going back to London.’
‘For a while?’
‘No, for good!’ Colette said grimly.
‘Surely you couldn’t leave Manhattan and the gallery and your friends? And what about Jazzy?’ Hilary rested her elbows on the table, dropped her chin into her hands and studied her friend intently. Colette was drawn and tired and unusually pale. And utterly subdued.
‘Jazzy can make up her own mind about what she wants to do. Thank God I have a home to go to in London. If I’d signed those papers without reading them, God knows what he would have done.’
‘It was probably panic. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking straight. It must have been awful for Des to discover he’d been ripped off.’ Hilary tried to ease Colette’s distress.
‘As awful as it was for me to discover he was trying to pull a fast one on me,’ she retorted. ‘I’ll never be able to trust him again. Ever!’ she said vehemently.
‘Do you know how much money is gone?’
‘Nope! I’m afraid to find out. I’ll hardly even get a decent divorce settlement,’ she said bitterly. ‘What’s the point of taking him to the cleaner’s if there’s nothing to clean out?’
‘But haven’t you got properties?’
‘We sold them after the Lehman Brothers fiasco. I’d say that’s the money that he invested with Madoff. I’m sure we’re not penniless but we can’t sustain this lifestyle any more.’ She waved around at the large L-shaped kitchen diner, and the more formal dining room behind the panelled double doors.
‘Get a less expensive apartment.’ Hilary nibbled on a carrot baton coated in creamy chicken sauce.
‘I couldn’t bear that, Hilary,’ Colette exclaimed. ‘That fucking idiot has ruined everything we’ve worked for. Our social standing, our lifestyle, our pensions, Jazzy’s marriage prospects. You think there’s snobbery at home? Trust me, it’s trifling compared to what goes on here. Once you’re on the slope down they don’t want to know you. You become invisible. I won’t stand for that. I won’t let them edge me out. I won’t become a nobody because my fool of a husband lost our money. I will never, ever let anyone except myself direct my life again. I have the apartment in London. I can work to support myself. And no one over there need ever know the details of what’s happened here. I’ll just reinvent myself and do it solo.’
‘Why don’t you go to London for a while and see how it goes without being too final about it?’ Hilary suggested diplomatically.
‘I don’t want to live in some crappy egg box, midtown, fighting Des for maintenance money he won’t have. I don’t want to be dumped off my charity boards because I can’t afford the whopping donation fees that are the price for being on them. I don’t want to pass restaurants I didn’t think twice about dining in because I can’t afford to eat in them. I don’t want to give up my Platinum card for an ordinary one. I don’t want to slum it on public transport. I don’t want to fly coach,’ Colette retorted. ‘Call me a snob if you like, but I worked hard for the lifestyle that I’ve had until now. It would just make me utterly, utterly depressed to give it up. We were supposed to be going to St Barts for a week in February. Where’s he going to bring me now? New Jersey? Let him bring his mistress there and see how long she stays with him.’ Colette took another slug of her wine, her eyes glittering with anger and unshed tears.
Hilary stayed silent. She certainly understood Colette’s reasons for leaving New York but she didn’t know what to say to soothe her, but at least Colette was expressing her anger and not keeping it bottled up.
‘Should I go to visit Des?’ she ventured.
‘I don’t care. It’s up to you,’ Colette said sullenly, going to the fridge to get another bottle. ‘Come on, let’s go into the den, I’ll switch on the fire. You’re doing a lot of wriggling on the chair. What’s wrong with your back?’
‘It’s a bit dodgy at the minute,’ Hilary explained, following Colette into the elegant cream-and-claret-toned room. She stretched out on a recliner chair. ‘Oh! That’s better,’ she sighed as the niggle in her back eased. ‘I suppose it didn’t help having a ride on the settee last night and then having a six-hour flight today.’ She sipped her wine.
‘Why didn’t you do it in bed?’ Colette looked at Hilary over the rim of her glass as she lay curled up on the sofa.
‘We got carried away,’ Hilary laughed. ‘We’re having a revival now that the girls don’t live at home any more.’
‘After all these years! Are you for real? I can’t remember the last time I got carried away,’ Colette said morosely. ‘You’re a lucky wagon.’
‘Yeah, I suppose I am,’ Hilary conceded, hoping Colette wouldn’t become a surly drunk.
‘Do you think St Niall would cheat on you?’ The question was fuelled with anger and drunken resentment.
‘That’s not nice, Colette,’ rebuked Hilary. ‘And the answer is I don’t know. Does anyone?’
‘But you have the perfect marriage, don’t you?’ Colette said sarcastically. Drink always gave her a hard edge.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course I don’t!’ Hilary scoffed. ‘There’s no such thing as the perfect marriage. Niall and I drive each other mad sometimes and we’ve had our ups and downs, especially when business was booming and I was flat out at work and feeling a lot of resentment towards him because I felt he wasn’t backing me up, and he felt I was putting work before him. No way is my marriage perfect but we work through our stuff and we still love each other, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so,’ Colette muttered.
‘Do you still love, Des?’ Hilary demanded.
‘Oh! I . . . I don’t know. We complement each other. We have the same interests and goals. We’re a good team. Were a good team!’ she corrected herself.
‘And do you still fancy him?’ Hilary asked bluntly.
‘We’ve been married nearly twenty-five years, for God’s sake. That wears off!’ Colette exclaimed exasperatedly.
‘Well actually it doesn’t, Colette. I still fancy Niall big time. He turns me on and I turn him on and that’s as important as anything else in our marriage. Perhaps you should go to counselling.’
‘That would be hard if I’m living in London and he’s living here,’ jeered Colette.
‘Not if you get on your broomstick,’ Hilary retorted, glaring at her.
‘Bitch!’ Colette snapped.
‘Good though, wasn’t it?’ Hilary grinned.
‘You always were a sarky cow!’
‘Moi?’ Hilary teased. ‘I was only trotting after you.’ She fanned herself with her hand as a hot flush engulfed her.
‘Are you having flashes?’ Colette eyed her in surprise.
‘If you mean flushes, yes.’ Hilary blew some air up onto her face. ‘Have you started yet?’
‘Are you crazy? I’m not putting up with that carry-on. I’m on HRT. You should be on it too. No wonder your skin has lost its tone and you’re creaking.’
‘Thanks,’ Hilary said caustically.
‘Well you know what I mean. What are you letting yourself go for, when you can do something about it? HRT’s fantastic.’
‘Listen, when you come off it you’ll have the flashes as you call them, so you’re just putting it off. I just want to get it over and done with.’
‘Well at least I’m keeping my looks and my flexibility, and I’m not a cranky dried-up old crab. The menopause is the last thing I need on top of this.’
‘True,’ conceded Hilary. ‘That could send you over the top completely. You wouldn’t even need a broomstick.’ Colette laughed and the tense atmosphere evaporated.
‘Are you going to tell your parents?’ Hilary tried not to yawn. She was longing to go to bed but she had flown over the Atlantic to support her friend; it would be rude to plead jet lag.
‘Are you mad? And have Dad lording it over Des?’ Colette derided.
‘So! You still feel loyalty towards him. That’s something to hold on to.’
&nb
sp; ‘No, Hil!’ Colette shook her head. ‘That was an automatic response, and I don’t want Dad thinking my judgement was seriously flawed, which it obviously was. Des will not get one scintilla of loyalty from me ever again. He showed me none. None!’ Her voice rose. ‘He tried to get me to sign away my apartment. As long as I live I will never forgive him for that. I could have coped with the other woman. But not that! And don’t tell me you could forgive if Niall did that to you, and lost the girls’ inheritance because he was a stupid dumbass.’
‘I know. I couldn’t.’ Hilary got up from the chair and went over to Colette and put her arm around her. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do and how I can help. You know I’m here for you. And I can come over to London and help you to settle back in if you want,’ she offered generously.
‘Thanks, Hil.’ Colette laid her head on her shoulder. ‘I know I can always depend on you.’
‘Jazzy, it’s so good to see you, you look amazing,’ Hilary said warmly the following morning when Jasmine arrived at the apartment to join them for brunch.
‘Thanks, Hilary. I was only talking to Mom about you at lunch yesterday. Little did I think I’d actually be seeing you.’ Jazzy kissed her and then hugged Colette. ‘Hi, Mom. You look a train wreck.’
‘Thanks,’ Colette drawled.
‘I’m sorry it’s under difficult circumstances,’ Hilary said kindly.
‘Thanks for coming over for Mom. That was a kind thing to do. How’s Sophie and Millie?’ Jazzy perched on a high stool at the kitchen counter, casually elegant in jeans and a black-cashmere polo. Big silver hoop earrings her only jewellery. She had inherited her mother’s sense of style, Hilary observed.
‘They’re good. Both working, as you know. Which is great because the job situation at home is getting pretty bad. Lots of people being made redundant.’
‘Sophie and I Skype every so often. It’s a great way of keeping in touch.’
‘I’ll be able to Skype you when I’m in London,’ Colette interjected, handing her daughter a Kir royale.
‘Thanks. Mom, Dad said you were going to London for Christmas, and that we won’t be going skiing in Aspen because he’s lost money with Bernie Madoff. Is he just doing a Dad on it and exaggerating?’ she said plaintively.
‘I’m going to London. I don’t know what your dad plans to do. And I don’t think he’s exaggerating. I don’t know exactly how much of our money he’s lost in his investments. But it’s a lot. I don’t even know if he’ll be able to keep up the rent here. I would imagine not,’ Colette said grimly.
‘Jeez, is it that bad? What about my allowance?’ Jazzy’s blue eyes widened in dismay.
‘Look, until your dad has had his op and gets to meet our wealth manager, I don’t know what the situation is. I’m going to divorce him, that’s a given. It’s over between us. But I don’t know how much of a settlement I can expect. Once I’m settled in London and see how I’m fixed financially I can sort out an allowance for you. Until then, if I were you, I would cut down on my spending,’ advised her mother.
‘What do you mean, settled in London?’ Jazzy asked, perplexed.
‘I’m leaving New York. I can’t stay here. I’d love it if you wanted to come too but you have to make up your own mind and do what’s best for you,’ Colette said firmly.
‘Leaving? For good? And what about Dad?’ she demanded, appalled.
‘Look, should I give you both some privacy?’ Hilary said awkwardly, getting up off her stool.
‘No, you’re fine,’ Jasmine said miserably and Hilary’s heart went out to her.
‘Dad might want to be with that woman. Did you ever think of that?’ Colette carried a platter of antipasti to the table. ‘Sweetie, bring the hummus and pitta bread to the table with you.’
‘Don’t you mind, Mom?’ Jasmine couldn’t hide her shock as she brought the food to the table.
‘Whether I do or not, what’s done is done. Your dad didn’t think about us when he did what he did. I have to look to the future and start afresh. That’s the only way I can deal with it, Jazzy. If I stay here I’ll go to pieces and I won’t allow myself to do that. So please, I beg you, don’t make this any harder for me than what it is already. Now sit and eat with us and then, if Hilary wants to, she can go with you to see your dad.’
‘OK,’ her daughter muttered, struggling not to cry.
‘Jazzy, it’s not the end of the world. This too will pass and good times, different times will come again. Enjoy your life with Jackson—’
‘He might leave me now that we’re not rich any more,’ she blurted tearfully.
‘Well if he does he’s not the man I think he is and he’s not worthy of you, isn’t that right, Hilary?’ Colette reached across the table and squeezed her daughter’s hand.
‘Indeed it is. Look at you, Jazzy, a gorgeous young woman making a life for yourself in this fantastic city. As they say at home, “What’s for you won’t pass you by.” If your boyfriend is the right one for you, terrific. If he’s not, the right one will come.’
And pigs will fly, thought Colette cynically at the notion of a ‘right one’. She said nothing. There was no point in making her daughter feel any more distressed than she already was.
‘Sorry to see you under the weather, Des,’ Hilary said awkwardly, deciding against kissing him and handing him the box of chocolates and the latest John Connolly thriller she had brought for him.
‘Hey! That’s kind of you. I didn’t expect to see you, Hilary,’ he said, abashed, hardly able to look her in the eye. He clicked off the TV and smiled at his daughter. ‘Hi, Jazzy. Thanks for coming in and bringing Hilary with you.’
‘Hi, Dad,’ Jazzy said glumly.
‘Just wanted to wish you well with your op,’ Hilary said, feeling sorry for him in spite of herself. He looked red-eyed, red-nosed, pale and stressed lying back against his pillows, a far cry from the brash, supremely confident know-all she was used to seeing. He looked somehow diminished in his maroon pyjamas, with his drip and monitors attached to him.
‘So how are all the folks at home? How’s business?’ He made an effort.
‘Everyone’s good at the minute, touch wood,’ she said lightly. ‘The downturn is hitting us badly. I had to make some of my employees redundant. Hard times universally. You’re getting your share this side of the Pond.’
‘Tell me about it. I suppose you know I got stuffed by Madoff.’
‘I heard. We all got stuffed by the banks,’ she sighed.
‘That Anglo Irish carry-on is something else. Your regulator was really asleep on the job. How could he have missed that?’ Des shook his head.
‘How indeed, but he did, and the rating agencies were way off the mark, and we’re paying for it. But hey, he got a great salary and a big fat pension. Gas, isn’t it?’
‘Practically everyone I knew and played golf with in Dublin had shares in Anglo,’ Des observed. ‘I remember an Anglo banker trying to persuade me to get into some hotel gig here in the States. Went belly up, I believe. Glad I stayed out of that one. He was a pushy little bloke, you know, smooth talker, slithery, a wide boy. I bet he didn’t get caught.’
‘Probably not,’ murmured Hilary, thinking Des could have been describing himself and he didn’t even realize it.
‘Where’s your mom, what’s she doing today?’ He turned to Jazzy who was staring out the window at the Manhattan skyline etched against a leaden sky.
‘She’s gone for a jog around the reservoir. We’re meeting her in the Met for afternoon tea in the Patrons Lounge. She said we’d better make the most of it cos it looks like we won’t be renewing our membership. She’s going to move back to London! Did you know that?’ She gazed at him dolefully.
‘No I didn’t.’ He looked stricken.
‘Look, why don’t I leave you and Jazzy to chat for a while. I’ll wait outside in the waiting area,’ Hilary suggested. ‘Get well soon and take care, Des.’ She stood up and patted his hand and walked out the door, glad to have th
e excuse to leave. She didn’t know if she would ever see her friend’s soon-to-be-ex-husband ever again.
‘That woman has a kind heart. She’s a good friend to your mother. A better friend than Colette is to her,’ Des remarked when the door closed and they were alone. ‘When did your mom say she was going to London?’
‘Today. She said I could come if I want. It’s up to me.’
‘And what are you going to do?’ He looked at her despondent expression and felt a surge of guilt. He’d brought them to this, no one else. The responsibility was his and his alone.
‘I don’t want to leave Jackson, I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t want Mom to be on her own in London either. Do you think you could persuade her to stay?’ she pleaded.
‘I’ll try but you know what your mom is like when she has her mind made up about something,’ he said tiredly.
‘Just try, Dad, try hard,’ Jazzy urged.
‘I will, Pippin,’ he said, using his pet name for her. But privately Des felt he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
‘Jazzy tells me you’re going to move back to London. Please let’s talk about it, Colette, you owe me that much,’ Des begged, holding fast to his promise to his daughter to try and persuade his wife to stay in New York. He had decided to call Colette on her cell as soon as Jazzy had left.
‘There’s nothing to talk about, Des. I’ll stay until after you’ve had your surgery. After that you’re on your own. You can get Miss Battery Park to nurse you back to full health. And just for the record I owe you nothing!’ Colette said icily before hanging up.
Des stared at the dead screen on his phone. He knew Colette of old. When she made up her mind to follow a course of action that was it. There was no changing it. He should cut his losses and try and salvage something from his current situation.
He tapped a number he knew off by heart onto his phone.
‘Hello?’ came a familiar voice.
‘Kaylee, it’s me,’ he said hopefully. There was silence.
‘Hello? Kaylee?’
‘Yes, Des, I hear you. How are you?’ Kaylee said coolly.
A Time for Friends Page 42
