If the Shoes Fit

by Pauline Lawless

  “Ah, Ma,” Gavin tried to calm Bridget down, “sure I’ll be calling in every day and you can call over any time you want.”

  I hope not, Niamh thought with alarm, giving Bridget a quick goodbye kiss.

  As the car pulled away, she whooped with joy. “Yipee! Freedom at last!” She was in high spirits.

  Sharon laughed at her and even Gavin smiled at her exuberance.

  It took them only an hour and a half to put everything away and when it was done Niamh said, “We have to celebrate.” She took the bottle of champagne she’d won on the course out of the fridge. Taking down the champagne glasses that she’d bought for this special occasion, she opened the bottle and poured the three of them a glass, spilling some of it in her excitement.

  “Just a small glass for me,” Sharon squealed. “I have to drive.”

  “Oh, one glass won’t kill you,” Niamh said, laughing.

  “Did you buy these glasses, Niamh?” Gav asked her.

  “Yes,” she smiled at her handsome husband. “I reckoned that we’ll have many more occasions to use them in the next year. To our new home and our new life!” She raised her glass.

  They clinked glasses, all three smiling. Niamh’s excitement was catching.

  When Sharon had left, Gavin took Niamh’s hand and grabbed the bottle of champagne.

  “Come on, babe. Let’s really celebrate,” he said huskily, leading her up to the bedroom.

  There they christened the new bed, sipping the champagne in between their bouts of lovemaking. Then they christened the shower and it was the most exciting sex they’d ever had. He poured the champagne over her and then licked it off. Then she did the same to him. Niamh felt uninhibited and cried out as she pleased, not having to worry about Bridget overhearing her. Oh, yes! Things were going to be just perfect.

  They got up just in time to go and collect the kids from school. Niamh insisted that Gavin come with her although he would have preferred to stay in bed. Opening her own front door, when they got back home with the kids, gave Niamh such joy that she thought she might cry. The kids’ antics as they ran from room to room and out into the garden quickly turned her tears to laughter. They loved the house and the freedom it gave them. As they finally sat down to their first meal in their own home, Niamh felt a sense of contentment she’d never known. She just knew that they were going to be a happy family from now on.

  Boxer had been right. It wasn’t even a month before Val went back to work at the club. She just wasn’t earning enough selling shoes. She couldn’t understand how Niamh managed it. She was now meeting the other dancers at the club, amazed at the money they had to spend on clothes and having a good time. She was tired of being skint. Why not? She told Boxer that she was ready to come back to work.

  Same old perverts, Val thought on her first night back as she gyrated in front of them, casting off her mini-skirt.

  “Come on, baby, show us those knockers!” one asshole in the front row leered at her.

  Her return to the club had caused a stir with all the regular customers who remembered her and were thrilled and excited by her new, bigger boobs. This of course caused jealousy with the other girls.

  “Who does she think she is?” Kitten asked. “She pissed off for a year and now she swans back, straight into Boxer’s bed, thinking she can have star billing again.”

  Kitten was furious, her nose seriously out of joint. She’d been the big attraction in the club after Val had left but now she had to take a backseat again. She’d also been Boxer’s favourite lay, although he spread his favours around all the girls whenever he chose. They knew this was part of the job description. She’d enjoyed being his favourite – it gave her a certain cachet with the other girls. Now, here was Val, behaving like she was the Queen Bee again and Kitten could do nothing about it. Grudgingly she had to admit that Val was good, as she watched her play to the audience. The men loved her and were going crazy over her new tits. I’ll have to get mine done again, she decided, although any more enlargement and she’d rival Pamela Anderson.

  In fact, it wasn’t Val’s body that drove the men wild – it was the way she used it – and her attitude. She was good and she knew it. The first night back she made €120 in tips alone. Beats dragging around flogging shoes, she thought. What she really wanted was enough money so that she could rent an apartment of her own. She was getting tired of living off men and having to do their bidding all the time. Once she’d established herself in the club, she’d start looking. Boxer wasn’t stupid, he knew a good thing when he saw it and Val was good for business – very good for business. Already, word was spreading and customers were leaving other clubs to come and watch her. She knew he’d kick up a fuss if she wanted to move into her own place but she’d promise to give him regular blow-jobs and that would keep him happy.

  Ironically, things had improved dramatically for her with her shoe business. She had signed up all the dancers in the club as reps and they were selling shoes like hot cakes. Things were looking up, she thought, smugly. If only she could hook Gavin, then everything would be perfect.

  Chapter 33

  Niamh was happier than she’d ever been. The kids were delighted with the new house and even Gavin agreed it was great. Niamh was so looking forward to their first Christmas in it. True, they’d probably have to have Bridget for Christmas Day, as well as Eileen and Val, but Niamh was so happy now that she felt she could be magnanimous. Her sales had almost doubled in the last two weeks and there were still two more orders to go before Christmas. There was no way that Sharon could cope with all the deliveries so Niamh had hired a van and Gavin had driven it, delivering the orders to her reps. He loved being involved.

  Niamh’s reps had worked so hard that she wanted to reward them in some way. She thought that taking them out for a night might be a good way to say thank you. She rang Carlo to run it by him.

  “That’s a lovely thought, Niamh,” he said. “Better still, maybe we could get all the other managers to join in and I’m sure the company will help out with the cost. Leave it with me. I’ll suss out Grace and the others.”

  Gosh, that would be great, she thought. Amber, Tessa and Rosie all rang her that afternoon to say they thought it was a wonderful idea. Val thought it was a bit over the top and grumbled about the cost but agreed to join in if it wouldn’t cost too much. Niamh sighed. Val was always on the make. However the Christmas spirit was taking hold and in a weak moment, Niamh said she’d help her out if she couldn’t afford it. In the end it wasn’t necessary as Grace agreed to foot the bill in total and even offered some spot prizes.

  Carlo rang Niamh back with this news.

  “Unfortunately, Lesley feels she doesn’t owe her girls anything, so count her out,” he told her, his voice full of disapproval. “And Phoebe is considering taking her girls to either Paris or Barcelona, for a weekend in the spring,” he added.

  Niamh couldn’t help it: she burst out laughing and Carlo joined in.

  “Yes, I know. I’ll believe it when I see it too,” he said, still chuckling. “Anyway, you can rule her out too. I’ve been in touch with the Red Cow and they say they can take us for the twentieth of December, as luckily they’ve had a cancellation. How does that suit?”

  “Oh, Carlo, that’s fantastic. I’ll let the others know and then invite my reps.”

  “Actually, Grace has decided to hold a meeting that day too, in the same venue. She’s coming over for it and we could finish early and get the room ready for the party. We’ll bring posters and balloons with us, to make it festive.”

  Gosh, he was a gem. She hoped that he and Amber would get together.

  “One other thing,” he continued, “Grace wondered if you could all get together and hire a group or a DJ for dancing. She said this was absolutely essential for any party of Irish women.”

  Niamh heard the doubt in his voice. “She’s absolutely right. We couldn’t possibly have a party without dancing,” she laughed. “Leave it to me.”

  S
he rang the other girls, who were delighted with all of this. They agreed to pool resources to hire the music. Val grumbled about this but reluctantly agreed, if it wouldn’t cost too much. Niamh sighed resignedly.

  Pete looked in the mirror, not believing what he was seeing. He looked closer. No doubt about it – it was a grey hair. “Oh, God no!” he cried. “I’m too young for grey hairs.” It was really depressing. It was bad enough that he seemed to be losing his touch with women – and now this!

  Lesley hadn’t contacted him and it was bugging him. What had happened there? She’d been so keen. He’d rung Tim and explained the position to him.

  “Maybe she got tired of sex in the back of your BMW,” Tim told him. “Women like to be spoiled. Can’t you think of something she’d really like, that would get her interested?”

  “Yeah, well, she’s always going on about my taking her to my pad,” Pete admitted.

  “There you are then,” Tim said smugly. “Offer to cook dinner for her in your place.”

  “I can’t cook,” Pete wailed.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Pete, you don’t have to be able to cook. All you have to do is stick things in the microwave.” Tim sounded exasperated. “You can buy ready-made meals everywhere. M & S is always good. Trust me, she’ll be impressed.”

  “You think so?” Pete asked hopefully.

  “Definitely,” Tim assured him.

  Pete rang Lesley that afternoon. She was secretly thrilled but tried to play it cool. However, when he said he’d like to invite her for a meal in his apartment, she warmed to him considerably.

  “Oh, that would be lovely,” she said.

  “Tomorrow night?” he asked hopefully. (He hadn’t had sex for two weeks and was quite desperate!)

  “Great,” she replied.

  Yeessss! He punched the air. They made arrangements and he was surprised by how much he was looking forward to it. Next he had to think about what he would cook – or re-heat – which is what he would be doing. This had to be good. He wanted her back to the hot babe he remembered. He got horny just thinking about it.

  It was Gavin’s night to baby-sit. Niamh kissed him goodbye as she headed off to a party organised for her by the local Curves fitness club. They were expecting a large turnout and Niamh was looking forward to great sales.

  “Please don’t let the kids stay up longer than seven o’clock,” she told Gavin. “Otherwise, I’ll never get them up in the morning.”

  “Don’t worry, babe,” he replied, kissing her and squeezing her bum, “I’ll have them snug in bed by then.”

  He certainly would. There was a match he wanted to see on the telly at seven fifteen and he didn’t want his three terrors interfering with that.

  He was engrossed in the match when the doorbell rang.

  “Damn!” he said, thinking he wouldn’t answer it. On second thoughts, maybe it was Eileen, and Niamh wouldn’t be too happy to hear that he had refused to answer the door to her mother. Groaning, he went to the door.

  “Hi, handsome,” Val greeted him, kissing him on the lips and pushing past him into the hall.

  “Hey, Val. Niamh’s not here. She’s got a party on tonight.”

  “I know that, stupid,” she grinned wickedly at him. “I’m here to see you and the new house of course,” she said, going into the living-room.

  “Give over, Val. Niamh will be annoyed that you’re here,” he said, following her in. “Anyway, I’m watching a match,” he added grumpily.

  “No problem. I’ll keep you company,” she said, taking a bottle of wine out of her bag.

  “Christ,” he said.

  “You watch the match and I’ll open this,” she said, prancing into what she saw was the kitchen. “Nice house,” she called out to him.

  He was sweating. Jesus Christ, Niamh would have a fit. How could he get rid of her?

  She arrived back in to the living-room carrying two glasses of wine. She had taken off her coat and his eyes were out on sticks when he saw the skimpy top and micro-skirt she was wearing. She handed him his wine and then sat down on the couch beside him, too close for his comfort.

  “Gosh, you were lucky to find this house,” she said, chattily, “but then Niamh always falls on her feet, doesn’t she?”

  Gavin tried to concentrate on the match but he was distracted by her body which was pressing against him. He could see straight down her top and again she was wearing no bra. Despite himself, he found himself getting aroused and he took a big gulp of the wine.

  “God, Val, that skirt is so short I can practically see your knickers,” he complained.

  “Maybe I’m not wearing any,” she replied, her voice husky. “Do you want to find out?” She took his hand and placed it on her crotch.

  She wasn’t!

  This was too much for him. He ached to take her right there and then, on the couch. He put down his glass of wine and was about to slip her top off when he heard Ian calling out, “Daddy, I have a sore head. I want a glass of water!”

  Like a scalded cat, he pulled back and jumping up went to see to his son.

  “Oh, leave him!” Val cried, trying to pull him back.

  He shook her off and went to minister to Ian.

  Bloody kids! Val thought viciously. She’d almost had him. She was sure of it! She hoped that he’d return to take up where he’d left off, but as soon as he walked in again she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Val, I’d like you to drink up and leave,” he told her coldly. “And if you call around here again when Niamh isn’t here, I won’t let you in.”

  Furiously, she drained her glass. “I’ll just pop into the loo, if I’m allowed to stay that long,” she snarled at him.

  “Of course – but then I want you gone,” he said firmly.

  Sitting on the loo she thought how close she’d come to having her heart’s desire. Bloody Niamh! She probably had the kids programmed to interfere. Niamh’s life was charmed. And she had so nearly come close to wrecking it until that bloody child had cried out. Val felt like screaming. She felt the envy eating her up. And then she spotted the laundry basket and Gavin’s shirt sitting on top. With a vicious glint in her eye, she took up his shirt. Refreshing her lipstick, she plonked a kiss right on the collar. She then took out her perfume – Chanel’s Allure – and sprayed it on the shirt. Hah! Let Niamh cope with that!

  Grabbing her coat, she called out goodnight to Gavin as she let herself out.

  “Phew,” he said, as he heard the door close after her. “That was close.” He then had to decide whether to tell Niamh, or not, about Val’s visit.

  He still hadn’t decided when Niamh arrived home, flushed with excitement.

  “Oh, Gav! It was fantastic,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. Stepping back, but still with her arms around his neck, she looked up at him, her eyes aglow. “They loved the shoes and I sold forty-four pairs! Can you believe it?” She threw back her head, laughing excitedly.

  God, she’s beautiful, Gavin thought, feeling himself getting aroused. He loved her when she was like this. She was so vibrant and alive. Am I crazy? he asked himself. Risking all of this for a slut like Val? I must be out of my mind. Niamh is twice as lovely and sexy as her sister. Never again! I swear I will not go within a mile of Val after this. Phew! Thank God, nothing happened with her.

  He kissed Niamh on the neck and within minutes they were pulling their clothes off and making love on the rug in front of the fire.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered tenderly to her when they were done.

  “I love you too,” she replied. “I’m the happiest woman in the world.”

  He took her up to bed where they made love again.

  “Forty-four pairs,” was the last thing he heard her murmur before she fell asleep.

  Chapter 34

  Pete was rushing around his penthouse apartment in Ballsbridge doing a last-minute check on everything. He checked off the list that he had stuck on the fridge. Smoked salmon rolls in the
fridge: check. White wine and champagne, ditto: check. Pasta ready to go in the microwave: check. Tiramisu out of the box: check. Table set: check. He just had to put on some music and light the candles and he was ready. Lesley was due in – whew – two minutes! He just had time to whip off his apron when he heard the doorbell ring. He buzzed her up to the apartment and was surprised at how pleased he was to see her.

  “Hey, sweetie, you look sensational,” he said, taking her in his arms. “It’s been too long.”

  “Hi, Pete,” she replied, as coolly as she could. But it was difficult. She wanted him so badly but she couldn’t let him know. She had to play this smart. Extricating herself from his grasp, she took off her coat and handed it to him along with the bottle of wine she’d brought. Looking around the room she drew in her breath. It was gorgeous – bigger and more luxurious than she’d expected. The address itself had greatly impressed her. It was in the most upmarket area of Dublin.

  “Nice pad,” she said, walking around and taking in the wonderful views from the large corner, balcony window. “Wow!” she exclaimed as she looked across Dublin Bay and saw the lights of the north side twinkling merrily.

  He came up behind her and putting his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her shoulder. “Glad you like it, Princess,” he mumbled, nuzzling her neck.

  “Hey, I thought I was invited here for dinner,” she laughed, pushing him away although she wanted more than anything to respond to him. She tried to cool it.

  “Of course,” he told her. “All ready, but first an aperitif for my lady.” He brought out the champagne and made a big production of opening it. Hmm . . . she thought, champagne! He is pleased to see me. She enjoyed toying with him, flirting and teasing him, knowing that she was driving him crazy and that soon they would be in bed having great sex together. If anything, making him – and herself – wait, was heightening the excitement.

  The meal was lovely and he was the perfect host. After they’d finished the pasta, Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” started playing on the music centre and taking her hand, he bowed and said, “May I have the pleasure, Madam?”