Rules for a Perfect Life

by Niamh Greene

  ‘I wish I could say the same,’ Peg replies. ‘But I can’t.’

  ‘Ah, now, Peg, don’t give me a hard time. I’m not here to ruffle your feathers. I’m here to talk – have a conversation. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

  ‘Can snakes have conversations, then?’ Peg says.

  ‘Bring your thugs with you again, did you?’ Ted adds. ‘Or are they waiting for me outside?’

  ‘Ho, ho, you two are a tonic, you really are!’

  Laurence’s tone is bright, but there’s a brittle edge to it. It seems that Peg and Ted are thorns in his side, no matter how he tries to disarm them with the charm offensive that obviously works so well on Odette.

  ‘I told you before, all that was a simple misunderstanding,’ he goes on. ‘The boys weren’t going to harm you, Ted, you know that.’

  ‘I know nothing of the sort!’ Ted snaps, his face thunderous. ‘They – they manhandled me!’

  ‘They could have killed him!’ Peg shouts. ‘He has high cholesterol, you know – he could be one Mars Bar away from a heart-attack.’

  The crowd erupts into animated conversation again and Laurence shifts nervously from foot to foot, unsure how to proceed. ‘Now, now, all that is behind us,’ he says. ‘It’s time to move forward, look to the future.’

  ‘We could have sued the pants off you!’ Peg shakes her fist at him. ‘We might still!’

  ‘Peg, let’s give Laurence a chance to speak. It’s only fair,’ Odette wades in, patently eager to break the tension.

  ‘Fair doesn’t come into it!’ someone shouts.

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Peg yells.

  ‘Laurence, can you tell us about any recent developments with regard to the supermarket?’ Odette ploughs on, ignoring the interruptions.

  ‘Yes, I can, Odette, certainly.’ Laurence clears his throat, and rearranges his jovial features so he instantly looks more serious and businesslike. ‘Well, as you are probably all aware, the supermarket has received the preliminary green light from the council.’

  ‘Bah!’ Peg huffs. ‘That was very convenient.’

  ‘So, bar any objections,’ Laurence glances nervously at Peg and Ted, ‘we aim to proceed within the next six weeks. We estimate it will take approximately twelve weeks to build the structure and a further twelve before it’s fitted out and ready to operate. It’ll be state-of-the-art when it’s finished. State-of-the-art!’

  ‘How exciting!’ Odette breathes.

  ‘I’m happy you think so.’ Laurence eyes her.

  Is it my imagination or is he looking straight at her breasts?

  ‘So, it will be just over six months before the doors are opened to the general public?’ She simpers.

  ‘Yes, six months before it’ll be all systems go!’ Laurence gives the thumbs-up, trying to play to the crowd.

  I realize, with a jolt, that this is just like a beauty pageant: Odette is the smarmy commentator and Laurence is the hopeful contestant trying to impress the audience – not that he could win any prizes with the waistband of his shiny suit straining round his gut like that.

  ‘Six months before the village is ruined, you mean!’ someone shouts. Peg and Ted clap furiously.

  ‘Six months. That’s right, Odette, that’s right.’ Laurence tries valiantly to ignore the protests. ‘All going well, of course.’ He shoots another anxious glance at the front row.

  ‘And I read that you’re keen to give locals jobs, Laurence?’

  It sounds to me as if Odette and Laurence have prepared this patter beforehand – it’s all too smooth, like it’s straight from a press release.

  ‘That’s very true, Odette.’ Laurence beams. ‘Integration into the community is of the utmost importance to Xanta. We value Glacken very much and we’ll do our absolute best to employ people from the vicinity.’

  ‘But you won’t guarantee it?’ a familiar voice asks. It’s Edward. He’s leaning against a wall, looking intense, as he poses the question. God, he’s hot when he’s being serious. But I try not to think about that: it’s highly inappropriate – especially as his girlfriend is only a few feet away from us both. Odette would strangle me if she had any inkling of my feelings for her boyfriend. Still, I can’t help but wonder again what Edward sees in her – they’re so different. They even hold opposing views about the supermarket development. Edward is realistic: he knows the supermarket will probably happen but he wants to ensure that the area at least benefits from the development. He genuinely wants what’s best for the village. Odette doesn’t seem to care about any negative impact and she certainly isn’t considering ways to help the community make the most of the situation. I see her narrow her eyes in annoyance at Edward’s query – she’s not taking kindly to him questioning Laurence publicly like this.

  ‘We’ll do our very best,’ Laurence repeats jovially. ‘But there are no guarantees in life, of course not. We could all be dead tomorrow, I always say that!’

  ‘I wish you were, that’s for sure,’ Peg says, over the drone of conversation in the room – people aren’t happy about this disclosure.

  ‘Edward, there’s no point in splitting hairs.’ Odette’s voice is sweet, but with a warning edge. ‘The majority of the supermarket’s workforce will be made up of locals. Isn’t that right, Laurence?’

  ‘That’s the plan, Odette!’ Laurence booms, smiling happily at the audience. ‘That’s the plan!’

  This guy is a smooth operator underneath all the geniality. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s dishing out vague promises without setting anything in stone – it’s a clever ploy.

  I catch Edward’s eye and he gives a tiny shake of his head. I get the message: tonight is not the time to reveal any more about our arts development idea, not now that Laurence is here – tension is running too high.

  I nod back at him to let him know I understand, and he smiles. What is it about that smile that makes me go weak at the knees?

  ‘And do you think the supermarket will attract many customers, Laurence?’ Odette is still talking. It’s like she’s reading from a cheat sheet she prepared in advance – all this must have been rehearsed.

  ‘We do indeed, Odette,’ Laurence replies. ‘In fact, I have projected figures here – let me just get them on to the screen so everyone can see.’

  A burly man wheels a projector screen on to the stage and I see Ted pale – this must be one of Laurence’s security team, one of the minders who ejected Ted from the hall last time.

  Within seconds, the lights are flicked off and the projector is whirring.

  ‘This looks very promising, very promising indeed!’ Odette murmurs, as everyone scans the pie chart and graph that have sprung up behind her. There’s a jumble of figures running along the bottom – it’s all highly complicated, which I suspect is exactly as Laurence wants it. He wants to dazzle the villagers with facts and figures – blind them with science – so they won’t put up a fight.

  ‘Who says any of these so-called customers will come into the village, though?’ Ted asks. ‘The exact opposite could happen! They’ll come to the supermarket to do their shopping and then bugger off home again. Glacken will be a ghost town.’

  ‘Well, now,’ Laurence pulls an understanding face, ‘I take your worries on board, of course I do. But there have been studies done to prove the exact opposite. Here, let me show you.’ He rummages in the half-light and pulls another sheet of paper from his briefcase. Odette slides it under the projector. ‘See here?’ He points to a summary of findings. ‘We opened a supermarket in a small village on the west coast two years ago. Like Glacken, the village was close to the development and, like here, certain villagers had their concerns. Which we took seriously, of course. However, if you read the findings you can see that the village benefited directly from the development. Passing trade increased by thirty per cent and so did profits. It’s a win-win situation – this study proves it.’

  ‘How fascinating!’ Odette croons. ‘Isn’t it, everyone?’

&nb
sp; ‘Was that an independent study, by any chance?’ I hear Edward ask.

  I see Odette frown in the projector light. ‘Edward, a study is a study,’ she says quickly. ‘The results speak for themselves.’

  ‘Not exactly, Odette.’ Edward’s voice is sharp. ‘A study can be tweaked to draw almost any conclusion. That’s well known.’

  ‘What an extraordinary thing to say!’ Laurence barks, his jovial expression hardening a little.

  ‘Edward, please!’ Odette gasps. ‘This is hardly conducive to good relations.’

  ‘OK, let’s assume the study was legitimate,’ Edward says. The entire room has swivelled to watch him. ‘Can you tell me where your supermarket was in relation to the village?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Laurence blusters.

  ‘Don’t you?’ Edward goes on. ‘I bet the store site was such that customers had to drive right through this village to get to the supermarket – am I right? If they did then it stands to reason that a certain percentage would stop, thus the increase in trade.’

  ‘I – I …’ Laurence is looking at the projector as if willing it to give him some answers.

  ‘It’s hardly comparable to Glacken, is it?’ Edward says. ‘No customers will drive through here to get to your supermarket, will they, Laurence? The site is far enough away to ensure that.’

  There’s a murmur in the hall as everyone processes this news. He’s right, of course. The two situations are completely different.

  ‘Now, Laurence, I believe you have more news for us.’ Odette is desperate to move the conversation forward, away from this topic. It’s almost as if she wants the supermarket to be pushed through, no matter what. Why is that?

  ‘Yes, I do.’ Laurence rearranges his face into a smile and beams at the darkened hall again. ‘I know that some of you were slightly concerned that the supermarket was out of keeping with the landscape.’

  ‘An ugly blot on the countryside, more like!’ Peg shouts.

  ‘Yes, well,’ Laurence continues, ‘in a gesture of goodwill, we’ve decided to redesign portions of the complex to make it more … aesthetically pleasing. Easier on the eye, like.’

  ‘Why’s that, Laurence?’ Odette asks, right on cue.

  ‘Well, Odette, we feel that the structure must reflect what the community is about – we want it to sit comfortably among you.’

  ‘That was very thoughtful, I must say,’ Odette replies.

  ‘Thank you,’ Laurence says graciously, as if he thinks he’s some sort of hero. ‘So, to that end, we have gone to enormous expense to redesign the clothing hall section of the building.’

  ‘You’ve redesigned just one portion of the overall scheme?’ Ted retorts. ‘That’s big of you.’

  ‘I think you’ll agree it makes a huge difference,’ Laurence says. ‘In fact, just reconfiguring this one section has softened the impact of the whole building. It took a lot of hard work and money to achieve.’

  ‘I’d say it did!’ Odette says, her face earnest.

  ‘Yes, but we wanted to get it right,’ Laurence says. ‘We have a top-class team working on this project – our architect is a genius.’

  ‘Did it take him long to adjust the plans, Laurence?’ Odette asks.

  ‘Well, Odette, you can ask him yourself because he’s here tonight to answer any of your questions.’

  I almost expect him to say, ‘Come on down, the price is right!’ This is all completely staged, I’m certain of it now.

  Everyone cranes their neck to see where this architect is hiding.

  ‘Come on, Robert, step forward – don’t be shy!’

  Robert? An architect called Robert? That’s a creepy coincidence. Then again, there are probably hundreds of architects called Robert – it’s not such an unusual name, is it?

  It’s so hard to see in the darkness, but a shadowy figure is making his way from the rear of the hall. It’s bizarre – if I didn’t know better it could almost be him: the similarity, even in the darkness, is uncanny. But it couldn’t be. There’s absolutely no way. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me, that’s all.

  ‘Hmm … not bad.’ Betty whistles beside me. ‘I wouldn’t throw him out of the bed for eating crisps, know what I mean?’

  It can’t be. It can’t be. There’s no way on earth …

  As he draws closer I can see his features more clearly and my stomach flips. I can’t believe it. It is him. It’s Robert. My Robert. My ex, Robert. He’s Laurence’s architect – and he’s here in Glacken.

  Rule Twenty-four: Just breathe

  ‘Hello, everybody, my name is Robert Kilbride and, as Laurence said, I’m the principal architect on the latest Xanta development here in Glacken.’

  Robert is standing on the stage beside Laurence. The older man has one arm draped round his shoulders and he’s beaming with pride.

  How can he be right here, feet away from me? What horrible act of Fate has brought him to the one village in the entire country where I am?

  Unless … Does he somehow know I’m here? Who could have told him? Claire? Dom? They wouldn’t have … would they? No, Claire is still on her mission to find herself in India and Dom is busy trying to bed as many Aussie women as possible. They wouldn’t have had time to organize this. Mum and Dad wouldn’t do it: even if they did think of Robert as the son they never had, they know we’ll never get back together.

  What about Theresa? She thought I’d made a huge mistake when I broke up with him – she spent long enough telling me so. Would she have sent him here in some sort of deluded plot to get us back together? No, she couldn’t have. Even if she thinks I was a fool to leave Robert, she wouldn’t go this far, surely. Not unless the kids have finally sent her over the edge, of course. That is quite possible.

  I close my eyes briefly, trying to figure it out. It’s so surreal. Could I be imagining the entire thing? Maybe this is a nightmare and when I open my eyes it will be over. I ease my eyes open again and my heart sinks. It’s not a nightmare. There he is, standing on the stage, smiling at the audience. He’s simply dropped into my new life, like an alien from outer space.

  Suddenly the greater implications of it hit me. If Robert sees me I’m done for – all my lies will be uncovered and everyone will know the truth about me. Edward will know the truth about me. That I’m not who I said I am. That I’ve been pretending all this time. Worse, that everything I’ve told him is a lie. What am I going to do? My mind is racing with possibilities as I watch my ex-boyfriend stand smiling, almost within touching distance. Thank God the hall is in darkness – if it wasn’t he’d spot me almost immediately.

  ‘What a ride,’ Betty from the butcher’s breathes in my ear. ‘He’s even better close up!’

  The light from the projector is illuminating Robert’s unmistakable features. He looks good, even I can see that. Tanned and healthier than I’ve seen him in years.

  I try to concentrate on breathing and not passing out. Betty doesn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss so obviously, even though I’m silently hyperventilating, she can’t tell that my head is about to explode.

  ‘Robert, how lovely to meet you.’ Odette shakes his hand warmly. ‘And thank you for travelling all the way down here to speak to us this evening – I know you’re a very busy man.’

  ‘It’s no problem at all, my pleasure.’ Robert smiles indulgently. ‘Always happy to help.’

  ‘Robert is a genius,’ Laurence announces to the floor, and I hear Peg snort loudly, as if she doesn’t believe a word of it.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that, Laurence.’ Robert bashfully ducks the compliment.

  ‘Aw, now, credit where credit is due, Robert. You’ve done me proud on this, you sure have.’ He squeezes Robert’s shoulders. ‘He’s like family to me,’ he says to Odette.

  ‘Thank you, Laurence,’ Robert says, ‘and, more importantly, thank you, everyone, for giving me this opportunity to come here and talk to you tonight.’

  ‘If I’d known beforehand, I would have
made sure to sit in the front row.’ Betty giggles and nudges me again.

  ‘I’m aware that some of you may have concerns about the supermarket …’ Robert starts.

  ‘That’s putting it mildly,’ someone yells from the floor.

  ‘… but hopefully, I’ll be able to dispel any fears you have about the development. That’s why I’m here tonight – I’m here to help.’ Robert spreads his hands wide and looks out at the audience, his eyes searching among the seats.

  He sounds sincere – but then again, he’s good at this sort of thing so it’s hard to tell. Even I can’t say for sure if he genuinely means it or not and I know practically everything about him – what side of the bed he prefers to sleep on, how he likes his eggs, which football team he supports. How much he loves yellow jelly-babies …

  I push the last bit from my mind. There’s no point in revisiting all that. The thing is, I’m familiar with almost every detail of his life – but I can’t tell for sure why he’s really here.

  ‘He can help me any day of the week.’ Betty digs me violently in the ribs and I gasp loudly. I see Robert frown and scan the audience to see where the noise came from and I drop my chin to my chest to make sure he doesn’t recognize me. Not that he would quite possibly – I’m not wearing a scrap of makeup, my hair is pulled back unflatteringly from my face and the sweater I have on is probably fit for the bin.

  ‘I haven’t seen a fine thing like that in a long time.’ Betty is almost salivating with unconcealed lust. ‘Well, except for Edward Kirwan – I’d give him a go too, if I had half a chance!’ She nudges me again but this time I bite my lip so I don’t make a sound. ‘I can’t see a ring, can you?’ she hisses.

  ‘No.’ I shake my head mutely.

  ‘He’s fair game so.’ She rubs her hands with glee. ‘It’s about time we had some fresh meat here – do you think he’ll come for a drink afterwards?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I murmur. My head is spinning. I really need to get out of here.

  ‘So, Robert,’ Odette simpers on-stage, ‘can you tell us about the new clothing hall?’