What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author

by O'Flanagan, Sheila

  ‘Actually I thought they were very pretty,’ Adele interrupted her. ‘They probably only need to be tweaked a little.’

  Bey turned to her. ‘You want more than simply pretty,’ she told her grandmother. ‘You need something more than simply pretty if you want to be iconic again.’

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘Mum.’ Peter was the one who interrupted this time. ‘Enough. We’re paying for Bey’s expertise. Let her give it to us.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Bey smiled at her uncle. ‘Anyhow, what I was going to say is that new designs on their own won’t necessarily help. You’ve got to see what else might not be working.’

  ‘I’ve done that already,’ said Peter. ‘We’ve cut back in a lot of areas. We’ve closed the least profitable stores. We—’

  ‘Peter, we’re employing Bey as a designer, not a manager.’ Adele’s tone was sharp. ‘She doesn’t need to know anything about the business. All she has to do is come up with something saleable. If she can.’

  ‘That’s true, of course,’ said Bey. ‘But design takes time. Sourcing the stones takes time. It’s important to know that the business isn’t going to fold before we’re ready. And that we have a plan for the future too.’

  ‘That’s for us to worry about,’ said Adele. ‘Your role is clear. And it seems to me that we’ve been forced into paying you exceptionally well for it.’

  ‘You wanted the best,’ said Bey. ‘You’re getting it.’

  ‘You’re very arrogant.’ Anthony put his iPad on the desk.

  ‘Van Aelten still have a waiting list for the Cascade,’ said Peter. ‘She has a right to be arrogant.’

  ‘I don’t want to be arrogant,’ said Bey. ‘But I do think I know a lot about this business. However, what I’d like from you now is any old brochures you have on the Adele collections. I want to get a feel for Warren’s.’

  ‘If you don’t already have a feel for it, you never will!’ cried Adele.

  Bey stood up. ‘My father and I have agreed terms, but unless you all want me here, this won’t work.’ She looked straight at her grandmother. ‘Adele, you have to get over whatever your issues are about me. I’ve got over the ones I’ve had about you, after all. Make up your minds and let me know by this afternoon. Working for Warren’s will be as much of a gamble for me as it is for you.’

  Then she picked up her bag and left the room for a second time.

  ‘Well, really,’ said Adele. ‘That girl is way too big for her boots. You’d think she was doing us a favour.’

  ‘She is,’ said Peter.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Anthony. ‘She has a hobby shop in a laneway, for heaven’s sake. It’s beneath us and what we stand for. So is she. I don’t know why you even thought about her.’

  ‘Anthony!’ Philip’s voice was grim. ‘Shut the hell up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. And put that damn iPad away.’

  ‘Are you trying to make it up to her somehow, Dad?’ asked Anthony. ‘Is it guilt on your part for not being there for her? For what happened that Christmas? Even though none of it was your fault?’

  ‘Not everything has to be about the fact that we have a rocky history!’ cried Philip. ‘It’s good business, that’s all. We have home-grown talent on our doorstep and we have the chance to use it.’

  ‘Phil’s right,’ said Peter. ‘And given everything that’s gone before, I’m amazed she’s even thinking about it.’

  ‘I don’t trust her,’ said Adele. ‘Or her mother.’

  ‘Oh for crying out loud, Mum.’ Philip tapped the keyboard in front of him and the screen lit up with an image of a diamond necklace that was gossamer-like in its delicacy. ‘This is the Cascade necklace,’ he said as he looked at Adele and Anthony in turn. ‘It followed the successful Cascade pendant and was a massive seller the year it launched. We know it’s still a massive seller. It was designed by my daughter, your granddaughter and your half-sister – Bey Fitzpatrick. It was worn by the Duquesa de Olvera y Montecalmón on her wedding day. It’s been featured in luxury magazines around the world. The tiara that the Duquesa wore was also designed by Bey Fitzpatrick. And you think she’d be the lucky one to be working for us?’

  ‘We still don’t know why she left them,’ said Adele.

  ‘I spoke to Gerritt Van Aelten yesterday evening,’ said Philip. ‘They were devastated when she handed in her notice. He said it was for personal reasons and nothing to do with her job.’

  ‘We all know that employers can’t say anything bad about people these days,’ said Adele. ‘They can be sued.’

  ‘God Almighty!’ Peter was so annoyed he banged his fist on the table, startling everybody. ‘We have the chance to have someone skilled and talented to design a range we hope will get us back to where we were before, and we’re arguing about her motivations. Are you crazy, Mum, or just senile?’

  The atmosphere in the room crackled. Nobody spoke. Then Adele leaned forward and tapped at the keyboard again. More images of the Cascade range scrolled across the screen. Her face remained expressionless.

  ‘All right,’ she said eventually. ‘I agree. But she has to keep us up to date all the time. And we get approval for the design.’

  ‘Naturally we have to approve it,’ said Philip. ‘What d’you take me for?’

  ‘And we don’t make a big thing about her being here,’ added his mother. ‘I can imagine that the media would like to run with some story about the prodigal daughter working for us. But she’s not the story. We are.’

  ‘I don’t think she cares about that,’ said Philip.

  ‘You’ve become very sympathetic towards her all of a sudden,’ said Anthony.

  ‘She can help us,’ said his father. ‘She’s the one doing us the favour, not the other way around. It took me a while to realise that. You have to realise it too.’

  Bey was in her workshop when her phone rang.

  ‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ said Philip. ‘I should have ensured that the meeting was a briefing and not . . . well, whatever it ended up being.’

  ‘Yes, you should,’ said Bey.

  ‘But we’re all sorted now. Everyone’s on board. So if you’re still OK with it, we want you to work for us on the terms we already agreed. You’ll have time to spend on your own lines too – although you have to realise that Warren’s takes priority. And we have to approve your designs.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Bey.

  ‘Welcome to the family firm,’ said Philip.

  Bey released a slow breath.

  ‘Thanks,’ was all she said.

  Lola was both pleased and apprehensive about the situation. Pleased that Bey had been offered a great job again. Apprehensive that it was with Warren’s. Pleased that Philip had thought of her. Apprehensive about Adele’s reaction. Pleased that her daughter would be doing something she loved. Apprehensive that it wouldn’t work and that the fallout would be catastrophic.

  ‘If it works, it works; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t,’ said Bey, in such an offhand tone that Lola could hardly believe it.

  ‘Aren’t you excited? And worried?’

  ‘Both,’ admitted Bey. ‘But the worry is about Bijou by Bey and hoping Liesel will be able to cope.’

  ‘But the design? A whole new collection? For a company like Warren’s! Aren’t you worried about that?’ asked Lola.

  Bey looked at her, her expression serene.

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘This is what I do. This is who I am. Of all the things I’m worried about, coming up with a design is at the bottom of the list.’

  She didn’t feel quite as blasé when she sat down to think seriously about it. She already had ideas rattling around in her head, but as she stared at the mood board in her workshop, she knew that nothing there was right for the new range. She looked through Warren’s past sales brochures. She went for walks around the city and sat in St Stephen’s Green people-watching. She thought about the past and the present and the future and about Warren’s place in it. And then she thou
ght about her grandmother, an octogenarian but as cool and as cutting as ever. Still icily elegant. Still convinced she was right about everything. Still steely. Outvoted at the meeting, but not keeping her opinions to herself. Strong. Determined. Intractable.

  The Ice Dragon, Lola called her.

  It was a good name.

  Bey took out her notebook and began to draw.

  The Ice Dragon

  Now

  Chapter 35

  Topaz: a hard refractive gemstone of many colours

  There weren’t enough hours in the day. Bey was getting up at six in the morning and going to bed at midnight. She divided her time between her Ice Dragon designs and liaising with Liesel in the workshop, making sure that their orders were being filled on time. She lived and breathed jewellery. Lola worried that she was working too hard, and even more that she’d broken off her relationship with Lorcan because he was so far down her list of priorities, but Bey didn’t care.

  ‘It’s not like work to me,’ she told her mother. ‘I love what I’m doing. And as for Lorcan – well, I didn’t love him enough.’

  Lola winced at the phrase. She could hardly criticise her daughter for getting back to the thing she liked doing most. And she had to admit that she hadn’t seen her so happy since she’d returned from London.

  When Bey was finally certain that she had a strong central theme and pieces to go with it, she asked Philip to come to the workshop. She wanted to present them to him in her own space, and not surrounded by the history of Warren’s.

  ‘Will I bring Peter and Mum too?’ he asked. ‘Anthony is in Cork, but I could get him here by tomorrow.’

  ‘I thought Adele wouldn’t lower herself to visit a run-down garage,’ she said with a hint of humour.

  ‘I can make her come,’ said Philip.

  ‘Actually I’d prefer if we started with you and me together,’ said Bey. ‘If you hate everything then I won’t have to listen to her telling us both what a mistake this was.’

  Philip laughed. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘This afternoon?’

  ‘See you then.’

  She’d sounded relaxed talking to him, but her anxiety ratcheted up as she waited for him to arrive. She’d always been anxious when showing new designs at Van Aelten and Schaap, but this was different. It had never been so important to her to get something right. Every other design she’d shown had been personal to her, but the backdrop had been entirely professional. This time, no matter what she’d said before, it was impossible to separate the two. She wanted the Warrens to know that she’d done a good job. She wanted them to see her not as the twelve-year-old jewel thief they’d always considered her to be, but as someone who was totally committed to their success. But she was acutely aware that not everybody was convinced that she was the right person to entrust with the fate of the family firm.

  She swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat and scrolled through her drawings again. She’d had a long conversation with both her father and Peter about what they were trying to achieve, the budget they had to work with and the likely cost of the type of stones they might use. She was sure that what she’d come up with ticked all the boxes, both commercially and creatively. But they might have entirely different ideas. As for Adele . . . it didn’t matter that she wasn’t in charge any more. Bey was quite sure her grandmother’s opinion carried more weight than anyone else’s.

  The bell rang and she went to answer it.

  ‘Come in,’ she said, as Philip crossed the threshold and followed her into the workshop.

  He stopped to look at the silver and costume jewellery in her display cases, remarking that it was very pretty and that it was interesting how she managed to work on both high-end and affordable pieces at the same time.

  ‘I told you I could multitask,’ she reminded him. ‘Would you like coffee?’

  ‘Yes please,’ said Philip.

  She popped a capsule into the coffee machine her grandmother had sent her. Eilis had been intrigued by the new development in her granddaughter’s career, and phoned every so often to find out how things were coming along. Bey’s only complaint had been about the quality of the coffee she was practically mainlining, and she’d been both amused and delighted when the top-of-the-range machine was delivered a few days later.

  ‘OK,’ she said as she handed him the coffee. ‘Let’s talk about the collection.’ She traced her finger over the trackpad beside her and the large display screen came to life. ‘I’ve called it Ice Dragon.’

  Philip looked startled. ‘It’s an Adele collection,’ he said. ‘You can’t change the name.’

  ‘The Adele collections are all based on flowers,’ Bey reminded him. ‘You already know they’re dated. So why on earth would I do the same thing?’

  ‘I thought . . .’

  ‘You thought you’d hired me to come up with a range of pieces that were the same as before but with slight variations?’ Bey said. ‘Don’t be silly, that’s not what you wanted. What you wanted was something completely different, and that’s what you’re getting. But,’ she added, ‘still based on Adele’s personality. Cold on the outside but with a heart of fire. Or maybe it’s the other way around.’

  ‘That’s how you see her?’

  ‘She has the personality of an iceberg,’ said Bey. ‘But that’s not the cool I’m talking about. I’m talking about her sophistication, which, in fairness, is beyond question. And as for her strength – she can flay anyone with a single word from her mouth. So I think the name is perfect.’

  ‘Maybe you have a point,’ conceded Philip with a slight smile. ‘But we can’t call the collection Ice Dragon. It’s not pretty, like Adele Rose or Adele Bouquet.’

  ‘Let’s move on from what it’s called for a minute and look at the designs.’ Bey tapped the trackpad. ‘It’s important to get the name right, but you need to look at the concept first.’

  Philip shrugged and looked at the screen. Then his eyes widened.

  ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed as the first image appeared. ‘That’s . . . unbelievable.’

  The diamonds and rubies of the necklace formed an exquisite off-centre drop, while the stones themselves seemed to float above the fine gold links. It was both cool and sophisticated while almost glowing with life.

  ‘Here it is with sapphires.’ She flicked to the next image. ‘And with emeralds.’

  ‘They’re amazing,’ said Philip. ‘Utterly amazing. But they’re completely unique and with those stones very expensive. We won’t be able to sell many of them.’

  ‘Obviously these are the statement pieces, the ones that will be for the very few. For the core of the collection, this is what I have in mind.’

  She continued to scroll through images. This time the gems, a mixture of precious and semi-precious, were smaller, but every pendant, ring and bracelet seemed to radiate intensity, and had the same ethereal balance between form and function as the luxurious necklaces.

  ‘How fabulous they look in the end will depend on getting the right stones, and that’ll be extremely important for the signature pieces because they’ll be made to order. But for the rest, the prices should start at around three thousand, which is what Peter wanted,’ said Bey. ‘Haute joaillerie is like haute couture – you might not be able to afford the evening gown but you can splash out on the branded lipstick. In this case you can’t afford the necklace but you could treat yourself to the earrings. Anyway, as you can see, the other pieces follow the same theme but with fewer stones. Even though the reds, blues and greens are the most striking, I’ve also added some with pink tourmalines and topaz – not quite as dragony, mind you, but very pretty, I think.’

  Philip was scrolling back through the images.

  ‘They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before,’ he said.

  ‘Well of course,’ said Bey. ‘You wanted something unique. That’s what you’re getting. If you go with them, I’ll need to meet with the goldsmiths you have in mind and talk through the design with them. We us
ed different ones at Van Aelten and Schaap depending on the pieces.’

  Philip nodded absently as he continued to move between images.

  ‘We’ll sort all that out when we decide on these,’ he said. Then he looked up at her again. ‘They’re so completely . . . well . . . not like the other Adeles.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ said Bey.

  ‘It’s just I didn’t expect . . . Seeing these . . . imagining us putting them out there . . . thinking of what Mum will say . . .’ Philip grimaced.

  ‘You’re afraid of her?’ Bey looked at her father enquiringly.

  ‘You know what she’s like. And truthfully – yes, I’m afraid of telling her you’ve called her the Ice Dragon. But,’ he added as he finally stopped scrolling, ‘dammit, you’re right – it’s a perfect name for them.’

  ‘If you hate them . . .’ Bey sighed and clicked on the computer, ‘I have more traditional designs for you to look at. I didn’t refine them, they’re just ideas. And I haven’t come up with another name.’

  The images that opened reminded Philip very much of the earliest Adele collections – Bey had gone with a more modern take on the Rose, Zinnia and Bluebell. They were very elegant and Philip knew that his mother would love them. He loved them too. But he also knew that they didn’t have the wow factor of the Ice Dragon set.

  ‘You’re exceptional,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I never realised it before.’

  ‘Why would you? You don’t even know me.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that too. I’d like to say it wasn’t entirely my fault, but even if Lola had told me about being pregnant, I was so angry with her for not wanting to marry me that I would’ve told her to sod off anyhow.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Philip. ‘Nobody had ever said no to me before, you see.’

  ‘Not even Adele?’

  ‘Well, yes, my mother was always saying no. But outside of that, I was a Warren. I was invincible. If I’d asked any of my previous girlfriends to marry me, they would have.’