Lola wasn’t sure how old Irene actually was, but she guessed she was around the same age as her mother. However, while Eilis was good humoured and liked to see the brighter side of life, Irene seemed to moan and pick fault with everything.
Would I end up like her if I stayed here? Lola wondered suddenly. A sad old crone who’s never got higher than staff officer and can’t find joy in anything? Would I forget how to have fun? She watched surreptitiously as Irene dabbed a floral-scented perfume on her wrists, then replaced the bottle in her handbag and snapped it closed.
‘Enjoy your evening,’ said Irene. ‘Remember to respect yourself and don’t do anything you’d be ashamed of in the light of day.’
With that final comment, she turned on her heel and walked out. Lola dissolved into a fit of laughter. In a million years she wouldn’t become Irene McBride. Even if she never got promoted and spent the rest of her career in the Passport Office, she wouldn’t turn into such a sourpuss. She rearranged her hair, added still more colour to her lips and sprayed herself liberally with Anaïs Anaïs.
She arrived at Warren’s shortly before it closed. Lorraine was just completing the sale of an Omega watch to a customer. She nodded at Lola and told her that Philip would be down shortly. Then she boxed the watch, placed it carefully in a Warren’s bag and handed it to the man sitting at the desk in front of her. As the customer left the shop, Philip opened the internal door and walked in.
Whenever she saw him, Lola felt a certain thrill. Philip Warren knew what he wanted from life, and how he was going to get it. He didn’t have to worry about undeserving people being promoted ahead of him. He was part of a dynasty-in-the-making and he knew it. He would be successful because he was born for success. He would have a good life because people like the Warrens knew how to live well. And his wife would have a good life too.
‘How was your day?’ he asked, as Lorraine put on her jacket, said goodbye and turned the sign on the door to ‘Closed’.
‘So-so. Irene was a real pain.’ Lola made a face as she recalled the staff officer’s stern words when she’d heard Lola taking a personal phone call. Then, amid another fit of laughter, she repeated what the older woman had said about respecting herself.
‘She’s jealous,’ said Philip. ‘She knows she could never be as gorgeous as you.’
‘You’re such a charmer.’ Lola grinned as she moved closer to him.
He kissed her and she let herself enjoy the moment, thinking that he was right, that Irene was jealous, that being a staff officer in the Passport Office certainly couldn’t measure up to being in the arms of a handsome man in the middle of a jewellery shop. And thinking that Shirley was right too; she’d never meet anyone better than him.
‘Before we do anything else,’ Philip whispered, ‘there was something I wanted to say to you.’
‘Oh?’
‘I thought about you a lot while I was in Basle,’ he said. ‘I really missed you. Did you miss me?’
‘Of course I did.’
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that she could see herself in the full-length mirror. ‘We go well together. Look.’
Her pretty red skirt and yellow top complemented her olive complexion and the mass of dark hair that tumbled to her shoulders. The sweep of black mascara emphasised her long, curling lashes, and her red lipstick highlighted her rosebud mouth. Her high-heeled shoes made her legs look longer. Standing behind her, and a head taller than her, Philip’s fair good looks made an attractive contrast.
‘We’re a good couple,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘A really good couple. And I like us together.’
‘So do I,’ said Lola.
‘And that’s why . . .’ He turned her towards him and she gasped as he suddenly went down on one knee. ‘That’s why I’m asking you to marry me.’
No matter what she’d said to Shirley, she’d imagined this moment already. She’d thought about how she’d react, what she might say, how she might feel. But the feelings she had now were completely different to anything she’d imagined. Because, she realised, deep down she’d never really expected him to want to marry her. She’d never expected to have to answer the question. She hadn’t been good enough for his parents. She’d thought that maybe she wasn’t good enough for him either.
He reached into the pocket of his suit and took out a Warren’s box, which he handed to her.
‘Open it,’ he said.
She lifted the lid. A round-cut solitaire diamond set in a white gold ring sparkled at her from inside. It was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. Except for the Snowdrop, of course. But he couldn’t possibly afford a Snowdrop, even if he was a Warren. They were worth thousands. Besides, this . . . she continued to look at it wordlessly . . . this was utterly magnificent.
‘Let me.’
He took it out of the box and slid it onto her finger.
‘It’s a half-carat internally flawless diamond,’ he said. ‘Warren’s has the exclusive rights to these rings. Only our customers can buy them, so it’s practically unique.’
‘It’s stunning.’ She could hardly speak.
‘Just like you,’ he said. ‘I knew I had to have you from the moment I first saw you. You’re as perfect as that stone.’
She was mesmerised by the cut and clarity of the ring. She’d never been given anything like it in her life before.
‘We’ll be great together,’ he continued. ‘One day the shop will be mine and we’ll be like my mum and dad, a partnership. I’ll look after the shop, you’ll look after our home, but we’ll both look after the heritage that is Warren’s.’
Lola pictured herself in a house like his. She imagined herself wearing Adele’s elegant clothes and her collection of magnificent jewellery. And she thought about sitting at her desk at the Passport Office, her beautiful new engagement ring on her finger. She thought of how confident she’d feel knowing that she was wearing something that Irene herself couldn’t afford. She imagined the staff officer muttering that in her day girls didn’t get such magnificent engagement rings.
‘I want us to spend the rest of our lives together,’ said Philip. ‘I know you’re the right girl for me.’
The ring felt perfect on Lola’s finger. As though it had been specially made for it. And just as she had when she’d tried on the Snowdrop jewellery, she felt a surge of confidence in simply wearing it. It marked her out as a woman who’d been chosen. And a woman who’d been chosen by a man who could afford beautiful things.
Philip moved away from her and went into the office. He returned a moment later with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and two champagne glasses.
‘You’ve totally taken me by surprise,’ she said as he put the bottle on the display counter.
‘That was the idea.’
She looked at the ring again. She imagined being married to Philip. Being part of the Warren family. Being Adele’s daughter-in-law. She thought about the future she’d always wanted and visualised two paths stretching in front of her. One of them led to the security of being Philip’s wife, even if it came with a helping of Adele’s dislike. Philip had assured her that his mother was all right when you got to know her, and there was no reason to doubt him. Adele was no different to the mothers of Cloghdrom. None of them thought the girls were good enough for their precious sons. It was an Irish mammy thing. Lola could get around her eventually.
The other path was less clear. Promotion at work, eventually. A move to a different department. Moving slowly up the career ladder, trying to get past people whose turn would always be ahead of her. But maybe achieving that. On her own. Because of her own hard work. Not because she was married to someone.
She tilted her hand so that the diamonds in the ring exploded into a rainbow of colours.
She’d never have a chance like this again.
She’d told Shirley she wasn’t sure she loved him enough. But how did anyone know how much they loved anyone? And even if you were a hundred per cent sure, it could still go w
rong. It would be crazy to say no to someone she cared about simply because she had a few insubstantial doubts.
Philip was opening the bottle of champagne. He’d clearly decided that she was going to say yes. Or that she’d said yes already. Had she? Had she said it without even thinking, as soon as he’d put the ring on her finger? Because no matter what doubts she might have, she was flattered that a man like Philip Warren wanted to marry a farmer’s daughter from Cloghdrom. His proposal had been far more impressive than Gus McCabe’s mumbled suggestion while they were standing by the farm gate. She remembered saying no to Gus. She couldn’t remember saying anything at all to Philip.
The cork made a quiet pop. He was good at opening champagne bottles, thought Lola. He hadn’t spilled a drop. It was stupid to have doubts. Stupid to think for a minute that there’d be anyone better in her life than a man who loved her. A man who’d just given her the most extravagant ring she’d ever own. A man who could produce a bottle of champagne to celebrate his proposal. She did love him. She really did.
‘I . . .’
‘What?’ He filled one of the glasses and handed it to her. She placed it on the nearest display counter, then smiled anxiously at him.
‘I’m overwhelmed,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘It’s always good to make a gesture when you’re asking someone to marry you,’ he said. ‘After all, it’s a day we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.’
Taking a step on this path would mean changing her life forever. And why wouldn’t she change it? What was so great about it the way it was?
‘But I need to think,’ she said.
‘What?’ This time his tone was one of astonishment.
‘I wasn’t expecting this. Not now.’
‘How could you not have been expecting it?’ asked Philip. ‘I brought you to meet my parents, for heaven’s sake.’
‘I thought that was because your mother kept asking.’
‘Partly,’ he agreed. ‘But I wouldn’t have brought you at all if I hadn’t been sure of you. And you were great that night, Lola. It made me realise that you’re the right girl for me.’
‘The thing is . . .’ she looked at the engagement ring again, and then at him, ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for it.’
‘Every girl is ready for a Warren’s engagement ring,’ said Philip.
‘Ready for being married,’ Lola told him.
‘We won’t be getting married straight away,’ said Philip. ‘You’ll have time to do all the things that girls need to do. And there’ll be lots of organising. Dresses and flowers and all that sort of stuff. I understand that. Don’t worry.’
‘I meant being married, not getting married,’ said Lola. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’
‘What’s to be ready for?’ asked Philip. ‘We’re good together. You know we are.’
‘Good together and being married are two different things.’
‘OK, now you’re being a bit annoying.’ He put down the bottle of champagne. ‘What’s the matter with you, Lola?’
‘Like I said, I need time to think, that’s all.’
‘But what is there to think about? I love you. You love me. We’ve been sleeping together. What more do you need to convince you?’
She couldn’t tell him she wasn’t sure if she loved him enough. That would sound ridiculous. And hurtful. She didn’t want to hurt him.
‘It’s my job,’ she said. ‘I’m really busy right now, and—’
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ His tone was one of disbelief. ‘You’re putting your bloody bottom-of-the-rung job ahead of marrying me?’
‘No. Not exactly. I mean, the job is part of it, and then—’
‘It’s Mum, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘She’s always difficult at first, but you managed just fine with her. Which shows how right you are for me. Together we can do anything. Don’t worry about her.’
‘I’m not,’ said Lola. ‘This is nothing to do with your mother. It’s about how I feel.’
‘How you feel!’ he exclaimed. ‘Haven’t you shown me how you feel already? We’re good in bed, Lola. That proves how you feel.’
‘It proves we’re good in bed,’ she said. ‘But—’
‘I’m making a one-time offer.’ His voice hardened. ‘I’m not playing silly buggers about this. I could have anyone but I’ve chosen you. You should be honoured.’
‘I am. I am. I just—’
Suddenly he began opening the display counters, taking out handfuls of Adele jewellery. Lola stared at him as he heaped them in front of her, a glittering pile of diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires.
‘Put them on,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Put them on,’ he repeated.
‘All of them?’ She looked at the jumble of necklaces and bracelets as well as the rings and earrings he’d also taken out.
‘Humour me.’
‘Philip . . .’
‘Put the damn things on!’ he cried.
She picked up the Adele Zinnia, an emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds, and with trembling fingers fastened it around her neck. She followed it with the Rose necklace, then put the Snowdrop bracelet on her wrist and replaced her own cheap earrings with the Adele Bluebells – a pair of small, perfectly round sapphires. She slid the Zinnia, Snowdrop and Bluebell rings onto her fingers, alongside the engagement ring she hadn’t yet taken off.
‘You see.’ Philip took her by the shoulders and stood her in front of the mirror again. ‘You were born to wear them, Lola.’
She was a sparkling rainbow of colour. The gems seemed to pulsate in the light, becoming part of her, bringing an exotic air to her dark prettiness.
‘You’re the perfect person to be the new Mrs Warren,’ he said. ‘You light up the jewels as much as they light you up. But the thing is, Lola, I want to know now. Because this isn’t something you need to think about. You either want to marry me or you don’t.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. She began to remove the jewellery, beginning with the diamond engagement ring, which she handed to him. ‘I don’t deserve you or this.’
‘Were you just trying to make a fool out of me? The country girl traps the city slicker? Was that your plan all along?’
‘Of course not!’ she cried. ‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘I’m not the stupid one here.’ He pulled her towards him abruptly and brought his lips down on hers.
‘Philip!’ She wriggled free of him, banging her mouth on his chin in the process and biting her own lip so that it started to bleed. She wiped the blood away and unfastened the Rose necklace with shaking hands. ‘What d’you think you’re doing?’
‘Well it seems to me that you’re quite happy to make love to me without feeling a thing,’ he said. ‘So I thought I’d get what I was due.’
She dropped the necklace on the display counter and stepped back from him, her hair tangled around her face and falling into her eyes.
‘Don’t be like this,’ she said. ‘You’re scaring me.’
‘Good.’
‘Philip, this isn’t the way we are,’ she said. ‘It’s not the way you want to be either.’
‘How do you know?’ he demanded. ‘How do you know what I want to be? You obviously don’t know me at all.’
She fumbled the catch of the Zinnia and allowed the pendant to drop onto the floor.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again.
Then she ran out of the shop.
The journey back to her flat was a blur. She couldn’t remember walking to the bus stop, or getting on the bus, or the drive home. It seemed to her that one minute she was in Warren’s and the next she was stumbling up the stairs and putting her key in the door. Shirley was already home and was preparing to put some bacon and sausages on the grill when she walked in.
‘Jeez, Lola, you’re as white as a sheet!’ she exclaimed. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Philip asked me to marry him,’ she said.
‘Oh my God! How brillian
t. Congratulations!’ Shirley flung her arms around her. ‘I always knew you two would do it some day no matter what you said.’
‘I said no.’
‘You what?’ Shirley stared at her.
‘I said no.’
‘Oh, Lola,’ Shirley groaned. ‘What have you done?’
‘What d’you mean, what have I done?’ cried Lola. ‘I’ve said no to getting married to a man I don’t love.’
‘But you do love him,’ said Shirley. ‘You’ve said so.’
‘Not enough,’ said Lola.
‘Flipping hell,’ said Shirley.
‘If you like him so much, why don’t you marry him!’ Lola’s voice trembled.
‘Ah, look, I’m sorry. I’m just shocked, that’s all,’ said Shirley. She turned the flame of the grill off. ‘I know you’ve been in two minds about him. I just thought that when push came to shove, you’d realise what a good thing he was.’
‘He is a good thing. I know that,’ said Lola. ‘I just . . .’
‘Is it his mother?’
‘He asked me that too.’ Lola attempted a smile. ‘It’s not, though. It’s me.’
‘Oh well. Plenty more fish in the sea,’ said Shirley.
‘Yeah,’ said Lola. ‘Though maybe I’ve blown my only chance at catching one.’
‘No point in catching it if you don’t want it.’ Shirley hugged her again. ‘In those cases it’s always better to throw it back.’
Shirley opened the bottle of wine that was in the kitchen cupboard. Who would have guessed that Chianti was a perfect accompaniment to sausages and rashers? mused Lola as she poured herself another glass. Why hadn’t anyone told her that before?
‘Are you drowning your sorrows or celebrating?’ asked Fidelma when she got home and Shirley filled her in.
‘I dunno,’ said Lola. ‘Maybe I’m drinking to forget that I’m a bad person who’s let down a really good guy.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Crona, the fourth flatmate, when she arrived and was also brought up to speed. The bottle of wine was nearly finished, so she’d gone out again and returned with another. ‘You were right to say you needed time to think. And if he didn’t understand that, then you’re well rid of him. Besides, you’re too young to tie yourself down to one guy.’
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 5
