When that horrible man in personnel, Timmy O’Dwyer, called her up to his office and told her that her sick-leave record was unsatisfactory and that they were going to stop her increment and postpone making her a permanent and pensionable officer in the Council, she had been almost relieved. Timmy O’Dwyer would have made a great Nazi, with his crew-cut and hard, sneering face. A rude, arrogant bully with absolutely no tact, he was hated by the entire department. Personnel officer, how are you! He hadn’t a clue. She was only sorry she hadn’t puked there and then, just to show him that she was really sick. Sick of him and the job and terrified even at the prospect of having to work until it was time to collect a pension.
Irene sighed. She couldn’t understand the attitude of her friends and colleagues, who looked upon their careers as a challenge. She felt a bit out of it, really. Did anybody else feel as she did? What Irene wanted was to marry a nice rich man who would look after her and protect her from the big bad world.
How she dreaded getting up for work in the mornings, knowing that if someone didn’t marry her she was going to be stuck in her job until she was sixty-five. Just thinking about it made her heart beat faster and her stomach clench with tension. If only she weren’t such a scaredy-cat. More than anyone, she admired her sister Cassie, living on her own in London, doing all kinds of courses and not worrying about whether she ever got married. Cassie didn’t mind the idea of working at all.
It wasn’t exactly that she didn’t like working. She had enjoyed her part-time job in the boutique in Port Mahon. It was the fact that from nine to five she had no control over her life that depressed her. Her bosses told her what to do and how to do it. Even going to the loo was a big deal. It was this type of control that Irene found so stressful. At least, if she were married, she could stay at home and look after her children and do her work how and when she wanted. She would be her own boss!
She wondered if Barbara and Ian were making love in the honeymoon suite of the International Airport Hotel where they were staying. She had a suspicion that Barbara was not a virgin. Once, when her sister was home for the weekend, she noticed a packet of little white tablets sticking out of her toilet-bag. It had the days of the week marked on it, and Irene surmised that it was a month’s supply of the contraceptive pill. She wished she had taken the giant step herself. At least when you had done it once, you would know what to expect and not have to worry about it. After all, she was nineteen, probably the oldest virgin in Port Mahon.
Turning on her side, Irene hugged her old brown teddy. At least she didn’t have to go to work the next day. It was such a sweet thought. One of these days, her knight in shining armour would come along and rescue her from her job in the County Council and that little weasel Timmy O’Dwyer. Irene fell asleep composing her letter of resignation.
Martin handed his girlfriend a cup of coffee and sat down beside her on the couch. He was staying the night in her parents’ house and he knew he’d be lucky even to get a kiss. When they were in her home, Jean was very circumspect.
‘Barbara knows quite a few well-known people, doesn’t she?’ Jean remarked as she sipped her coffee.
‘She meets them through her job, I suppose,’ Martin yawned. Frankly he thought Barbara’s cronies were a pain in the neck but Jean seemed to enjoy their tittle-tattle and gossiping.
‘It was a really nice wedding,’ Jean said wistfully, cuddling up against her boyfriend. Warning bells rang in Martin’s ears. Jean had been going on a lot lately about weddings and houses and settling down, and Martin was beginning to get just a bit panicky. He really liked Jean; she was a young lady with a lot of class. He had known that from that first date when he had been trying it on and she told him she was not that sort of girl and to keep his hands to himself. Martin, who was a popular guy with the girls, had not got that type of reaction before and it piqued his interest. And his interest continued to be piqued as Jean stayed very cool in the face of his growing ardour. This woman was getting under his skin and he was quite enjoying it. But now she had started going on about weddings and how she looked forward to settling down some time.
‘What’s the rush? You’re only twenty,’ he said lightly. He was just a few months older, and he had no intention of settling down for years.
‘I want to be young to enjoy my children. I want to create a lovely home. I like the idea of marriage very much,’ Jean told him in her breathy whispery voice, as she smiled into his eyes. Martin had the strangest feeling that somehow he figured strongly in these plans. Barbara’s wedding had not helped one bit.
Jean tucked her arm in his and gazed wide-eyed at him with her big Bambi eyes. ‘If you were getting married, what kind of wedding would you like?’
‘I think I’d like to elope,’ Martin said hastily, as he planted a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek and extricated himself. ‘I’m really whacked, Jeannie. I think I’ll head on up to bed. See you in the morning.’ He practically took flight up the stairs, leaving the petite blonde sitting alone on the sofa, a pout of dismay on her face.
Upstairs in the guest-bedroom Martin loosened his tie. He put his hand in his breast pocket and took out a letter. It was from a company in Baghdad saying that his application for a job as an electrician had been successful and wondering when it would be convenient for him to start work.
The sooner the better, he thought to himself. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake as a mate of his. His friend had got the job and was all set to go for a two-year stint, his visa approved and everything, when his girlfriend of only two months had informed him that she wouldn’t be around when he got back. Because he was besotted by her, he decided not to go for the time being. The romance had ended and he had applied again for the job but had been refused a visa. He had eventually gone to work in Germany, but he had really lost the chance to make big money in the Middle East.
Well, Martin wasn’t going to make the same mistake. If Jean issued any ultimatums, he wasn’t going to let them stop him. He had sounded out Cassie about his plan and she had thought it was a great idea. Cassie was a good old stick, really. She had been very helpful the time he went to London to do the second interview with the oil company. She did a mock interview with him and pressed his recently purchased Louis Copeland suit and sent him off looking very smart indeed. Left to his own devices, Martin preferred jeans and sweatshirts. He’d set his heart on getting that job, and when he got the good news he was so excited that he wanted to tell everybody. But Cassie had asked him not to tell their mother until Barbara’s wedding was over, as Nora had enough on her plate to worry about. He had agreed, but the wedding was over now and tomorrow he was going to write to the oil company and tell them he was available immediately. Then he would tell Nora . . . and Jean.
John cuddled Karen in his arms and smiled at her. She smiled back, almost asleep. They had just had a very sexy time although, at Karen’s wishes, she was staying a virgin until her marriage. He really loved this girl so much and the sooner they were married the better, but he knew that financially they were not in a position to marry for the time being. One thing he was sure of. Their wedding was not going to be anything like the wedding he had been at that day. What a waste of his mother’s money! It was far from red carpets and Rolls-Royces they were reared. He knew a wedding was supposed to be a girl’s happiest day and finest hour and all that but Barbara had gone a bit overboard – as usual.
Well, he and Karen were going to pay for their own wedding and they had agreed that it was going to be a very small, intimate occasion. They had applied for planning permission to rebuild the farm-labourer’s cottage he had bought and he would be doing a lot of the work himself, to save money. They would have to live in a mobile home for the first few months of their marriage, but Karen was quite prepared for it. As long as they were together, she told him, she didn’t care. She was totally supportive of all his plans and he knew that he was very lucky to have found her.
It was great that his mother and Cassie liked Karen as well. John
knew that Nora had been very pleased by the news of their forthcoming engagement. He had also told Cassie in confidence and she was equally pleased for him. Cassie had looked great today, much better than she had looked for ages – indeed since her split with Robbie. Whatever she did, whether she got married or developed her career or started her own interior design business, which was a dream of hers, he hoped that Cassie would be as happy as he was now. She deserved it.
Cassie opened her eyes with a start. She had been dreaming that she was getting married and that when she got to the top of the aisle the man who had turned to face her was Andrew Lawson. What a nightmare! She stretched luxuriously in her bed. It was pitch dark outside, the only sound the whisper of the breeze in the trees and the rhythmic pounding of the surf against the shoreline. The never-changing sounds of home, so different from the constant noise that she had got used to in London.
Imagine dreaming she was marrying Andrew Lawson! It must have been after the incident at the wedding. God help whoever married that swine. A thought struck her. It hadn’t been Robbie at the altar! She had actually dreamt about another man. A first since her break-up with her fiancé. The thought cheered her considerably, even if it had been Casanova Lawson.
Cassie had been quite proud of herself at the wedding. She had got through the whole day without once thinking of Robbie. That was a real step forward because she had actually felt apprehensive about how she would feel at the wedding ceremony, wondering if her thoughts would turn to what might have been if she had married him. Thanks to Laura and Aileen, she had a much jollier time than she expected and for the first time she felt free of her past. It was a good feeling, she decided, as she turned over and began to drift into sleep. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about attending weddings any longer – she knew she could cope with them. From the way things were going in the family, she’d be attending another one in the not too distant future.
Robbie MacDonald was feeling very sorry for himself. Today he had seen Cassie and he knew without a doubt that he was still crazy about her. He had dated a few women since their split but none of them had understood him the way she did.
He had heard on the grapevine at work that Cassie was back in town. He’d known Barbara was engaged to be married; he’d read it in the social and personal column in The Irish Times. Typical of Barbara to tell the whole world about it. When he’d heard Cassie was home, he guessed it must be for the wedding.
It had been simple enough to find out where the wedding was being held. Barbara had been giving boastful briefings in her newspaper column about the arrangements for what she called ‘one of the social events of the year’ and he had purchased The Irish Mail every day once he knew of his ex-fiancée’s return.
That morning he simply went to the hotel and sat in a secluded corner of the lounge. As luck would have it, his seat had a view of the entrance to the hotel and the grounds where some of the wedding photographs were being taken.
When he’d seen Cassie he felt as though he’d been hit by a tank. She looked sensational, a real knockout in that royal-blue dress and the black high heels that made her legs look even longer and sexier. She’d done something different to her hair. It was longer, glossier, and it really suited her. He couldn’t believe how well she looked, laughing and joking with Aileen and Laura. Robbie had cherished the hope that Cassie might look miserable and unhappy, a hope that was now shattered.
He was sorely tempted to go up to Cassie but somehow he didn’t think she would be too welcoming. No, he had a much better idea, a foolproof plan to get them back together. Come Monday morning, he was going to set in motion the train of events that would make his dream come true, the dream of making Cassie Jordan Mrs Robbie MacDonald.
Thirty-Three
‘He’s what!!’ Cassie exclaimed, aghast.
‘He’s taking over from Brian Mooney in Corporate Finance, UK,’ Miranda Dillon said calmly.
It was a Monday morning, four months after Barbara’s wedding, and Cassie had just come back from Port Mahon after attending her Aunt Elsie’s funeral. She was shocked to hear that Robbie had applied for a position in Allied Isles’ UK headquarters and that in less than four weeks he would be there in that very building just three offices down the corridor from where she was now sitting.
It was bad enough having to leave after the funeral, which had been most upsetting for Nora, and also hearing the disturbing news that Judy was pregnant and planning to marry Andrew Lawson. But to come back to this! She felt anger ignite in her. How mean of Robbie. Just when she was starting to get herself on an even keel again, he was coming to London to work in the same place as her. A thought struck her.
‘Where’s Brian going?’ she asked Miranda, as she poured herself a cup of coffee before starting to deal with the mountain of computer print-outs on her desk.
‘He’s transferring to Jersey, lucky bugger. You know, Jersey is crawling with millionaires. Why couldn’t they send me there?’
‘Will Robbie be getting Brian’s flat?’ Cassie asked grimly
‘Oh I’d say so, Cassie. He’s assured of it if he wants it. His grade entitles him to that.’
Oh God, why are you picking on me, Cassie not for the first time rebuked the Almighty. If Robbie were taking over Brian Mooney’s flat, not only would he be working in the same building as her, he would also be living on the landing above her in Holland Park Avenue. Robbie MacDonald was going to be back in her life on a business level if nothing else, and there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Oh yes, there is!’ she muttered determinedly as she dialled the personnel department in head office.
Three weeks later, Cassie was installed behind her new desk at her new job in the Customer Services Department at Allied Isles’ main Liverpool branch. Sitting in her sixth-floor office, gazing out at the famous Albert Dock on one side, the Royal Liver Buildings, that great Liverpool landmark, on the other, and the river Mersey straight ahead of her, she almost had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Everything had happened so fast that it was unreal.
Cassie had spoken to the personnel manager and explained that because of her broken engagement to Robbie she would prefer not to be working with him and that she was wondering if she could have a transfer. The personnel manager was most understanding and told Cassie she would see what she could do. Two days later she phoned Cassie to say she could have a transfer to Customer Services in Liverpool or to their Financial Services Department in Cork.
Cassie had chosen Liverpool mainly because she wanted to continue studying and working at interior design. Having secured her diploma just a couple of months previously, she felt there was more scope in the UK. Cassie also knew that, despite the fact that the Irish Sea separated her from her mother, it actually took her only an hour and a half to fly home and drive to Port Mahon, whereas if she transferred to Cork, it would mean a four-hour drive or train journey. Besides, she had never worked in Customer Services before and she thought she might like it.
The more she concentrated on her interior design, the less ambitious she was becoming at her job in the bank and this worried her. A new job in a new department might be the kick-start she needed to get back on her career track again.
It was the most impulsive thing Cassie had ever done in her life and what a big change she was setting in motion. New job! New city! New place to live! Maybe she was a fool for running away and letting Robbie disrupt her life completely. Lots of people would see it that way but Cassie had decided that she just wasn’t prepared to cope with Robbie in her life again. Besides, she felt she needed the shake-up. She had a nice cocooned life in London and it would be very easy to meander along like that for another few years. Her move to Liverpool would be sure to benefit her in some way.
Hadn’t Aileen felt the very same just recently? She had begun to get restless, telling Cassie she was fed up massaging the double chins of the rich old trout who came religiously to the salon once and sometimes twice a week to have their facials, their ma
nicures and pedicures and the like. A friend of hers who worked as a continuity girl for a film company had told Aileen that there was a vacancy coming up in the make-up department shortly and urged her to apply. Aileen jumped at the idea and did a dazzling interview, emphasizing that she had had lots of dealings with showbiz personalities in the Mayfair salon and that she was well able to cope with temperamental prima donnas if the need arose. She was also a very good make-up artist and was most interested in learning about special-effects techniques, something usually mastered on the job.
Who could resist Aileen when she was at her bubbly best? She had got the job, handed in her resignation to a most disgruntled Madame Lefeur, and a week later she was on location in Cairo! She was ecstatic. This was the break she had been waiting for and she knew she was going to love the life.
Cassie had been delighted for her friend. It really was the perfect career for Aileen, travelling the world, meeting people, using her artistry. Just as she had discovered a whole new lease of life when she had released her creative talents with her interior designing, so too would Aileen.
But she’d miss her around, miss their lunches and their shopping jaunts. Aileen was still using her aunt’s place in Stanley Avenue as a base. She would often be working in London, especially when films were being shot at the studios, but she would be doing a let of jetting around and they certainly wouldn’t be seeing as much of each other as they were used to.
So Cassie left London without any huge sense of regret. After almost three years of living there the glitz and excitement had worn a little thin for her. Tubing had long since lost its thrill. She had seen all the sights, gone to the hot nightspots with Aileen, and the constant noise and traffic and fast pace of life had begun to pall. In Liverpool, she’d be less than an hour’s journey from the sea, which would be a big plus. And she had heard that the Wirral was a lovely place. When she told people at work that she was going to Liverpool, they all assured her that she would love it. If she had not finished her interior design diploma she would not have considered leaving the capital, but now fresh pastures beckoned and Cassie began to look forward to the change with optimism.
Finishing Touches Page 34
