by Melissa Hill
Helen took a deep breath. Relax, said the voice. You two get on well together and he really likes you. What difference could it make?
She gulped a mouthful of wine, and set her glass back down on the table.
“Richard?” she asked softly and the words were out before she could stop herself. “How do you feel about children?”
Shit, shit, shit, the voice berated her. It wasn’t supposed to come out so quickly – you were supposed to ease it into the conversation. Typical you, and your bloody size four-an’-a-halves!
Richard looked as though she had just asked him to eat a bull’s testicle.
“Children?” he repeated warily. “What kind of a question is that?”
Helen felt completely deflated. It was going to happen again – she just knew it.
“I mean, do you like children?” She tried to lighten the tone. “I mean, by any chance do you have some of your own or . . . or would you like some of your own?”
Oh God, this was getting worse by the minute, she thought.
Richard now looked as though he had been presented with a plate of bulls’ testicles.
“Helen, what the hell are you talking about? You know that I’ve never been married . . .” Before she could reply, his face changed. “Hang on a second . . . are you up the pole?” he hissed at her. “Because if you are, and you think you can trap me into fatherhood, then I think you’ve forgotten something. I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing but, for the record, we haven’t even shagged properly, so it couldn’t be me! For Chrissake, Helen –”
“Forget it, Richard!” Helen reached for her bag, red-faced and in shock. How dare he? If he would behave like this over a mention of children, how the hell would he behave when he knew the truth? What had happened to the perfect gentleman?
Richard softened when he saw her expression. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that . . . it’s just I know I couldn’t have –”
“It’s not what you think, Richard – I’m not pregnant,” Helen interjected. “Not any longer, anyway.”
He looked at her with a bemused expression.
What the hell, she might as well put him out of his misery. “I have a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter that I haven’t told you about. As you and I were getting to know one another better, and becoming – I thought – more serious, I felt that you should know.”
“Helen . . . I . . . I’m sorry . . .” His voice trailed off, but by his expression, Helen knew all there was to know.
They were finished.
The usual story.
At that moment, the waitress appeared with their main course.
“I think I should go,” Helen stood up.
“No, stay – please. Tell me about your – your daughter.” The way he said it, it was as though Helen had just told him she had a severe case of leprosy.
She wasn’t about to stay just for the sake of it, not this time – not ever again. She’d played out this scenario too many times for one lifetime.
“No, I think I will go, actually. Thanks anyway – for dinner.”
Richard nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.” Suddenly he was being as formal as he had been that first day in her office. “I’ll phone you?” he added, almost automatically and certainly, Helen knew, untruthfully.
“Sure.”
Her feet must have been feeling sorry for her, because Helen didn’t feel them once as she walked dazedly up Grafton Street and towards the taxi rank. She tried to bite back tears as she got into the cab she had hailed with surprising ease. Then again, it was only nine o’clock. No one out enjoying themselves in Dublin on a Friday night came home early. No one but sad, spinster, single mothers like Helen.
A while later, the cab pulled up outside Nicola’s house in Stepaside, and Helen asked the driver to wait.
Soon after, she reappeared accompanied by a drowsy-eyed three-year-old version of herself, the little girl’s hair tossed, and her face red from pillow-marks. Helen knew Nicola had been surprised to see her home so early, but thankfully her friend knew better than to ask any questions.
Helen put her still half-asleep daughter in the back seat of the cab, closed the door and sat in the front passenger seat.
Tonight, she thought, staring straight ahead, and making it plain to the taxi-driver that she wasn’t interested in idle conversation, she couldn’t tolerate having that child anywhere near her.
Chapter 3
“THAT’S IT?” NICOLA asked, surprised. The following evening, she and Helen were sharing a bottle of wine in her living-room – Helen’s daughter Kerry lying on the carpet in front of them and tickling Nicola’s dog. “You’re not seeing him again?”
Helen shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess not.”
“But why? I mean . . . I thought you really liked this Richard?”
“Well, I did at first, but as time went by I realised that we weren’t really suited.”
“Oh.”
“Come on, Kerry. It’s time for bed,” Helen announced firmly – conveniently changing the subject. Kerry looked up disappointed, as did the Labrador Barney who seemed to be enjoying the attention.
Nicola was amazed. She had baby-sat Kerry a number of times in the last few months to allow Helen go out with this Richard Moore. Now her friend had casually announced that she wouldn’t be seeing him any more! It was weird the way Helen could go off a man for no particular reason.
But she knew by Helen’s tone (and the swiftness with which she swept her daughter off to Nicola’s spare bedroom) that she wasn’t prepared to discuss it any further.
Shortly after Helen arrived back to the living-room, Barney jumped up and raced eagerly towards the front door, a sure sign to Nicola that another visitor was imminent.
Laura stood in the doorway, anxiously brushing her dark hair away from her pretty face and looking a little ill at ease. Then again. Nicola thought wryly, Laura nearly always looked ill at ease.
Barney, who adored Laura, jumped up and almost knocked her to the ground.
Laura laughed. “Hey, relax,” she said easily, bending down and ruffling his ears.
“You’re early,” Nicola ushered her inside. “Helen’s already here, but Kerry’s just gone to bed, so we have to be quiet for a while at least.”
Barney jumped up and, with his paws, closed the front door behind them.
Laura looked at him, her eyes widening. “Wow! You know, I sometimes forget just how intelligent that dog can be!” she laughed.
“Good boy!” Nicola patted him on the head and Barney followed them into the living-room, tongue out and long tail wagging excitedly.
“Hi, Helen,” Laura said, with a smile. “How are things?”
“Hi.” Helen barely looked away from the television, causing Laura to throw Nicola a ‘she’s obviously in one of her moods’ look.
Nicola nodded. “OK!” she said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood, “Laura, you sit down there and I’ll get you a glass.”
“I’ll get it.” Helen got up and went out to the kitchen.
“What’s eating her?”
“Don’t ask. She’s barely said two words since she and Kerry arrived here nearly an hour ago. Poor child – she seemed to sense that Mummy wasn’t in the best of form and kept offering her some M&Ms.” She frowned. “Helen was quite short with her, actually.”
“Man trouble?”
“Undoubtedly.” Nicola rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I wonder should I wait for another time, then?” Laura looked thoughtful
“Another time for what?” Helen came back into the room with a freshly uncorked bottle, and a third wineglass.
Laura sat down and began nervously caressing Barney’s silky coat. She looked hesitant. “Well, as I was telling Nicola on the phone yesterday . . . I have a bit of news.”
“News?” Helen repeated. “Oh, don’t tell me – you’re pregnant.”
Nicola watched Laura carefully. She had suspected the same thing.
Nicola looked at her. Laura had sounded strange on the phone yesterday, but she hadn’t expected this. “You’re leaving? You never said anything about another job – what’s going on?”
“I’m thinking of starting my own business,” Laura said timidly. “Well, not thinking actually, I’ve already decided to start my own business.”
“Doing what?” Helen asked.
“Designing and selling my jewellery.”
“What? That’s fantastic news, Laura!” Nicola was thrilled for her. “And about bloody time too!”
Laura had studied at Art College but, when a job didn’t materialise after her diploma, for financial reasons (or more likely, Nicola believed, because of her lack of self-confidence) she had taken a succession of office jobs, rather than continue with her life-long passion for design. Lately though, Laura had resumed her interest and had taken to creating distinctive and elaborate one-off pieces of contemporary jewellery for herself, her family and friends.
Nicola had no doubts that Laura was favourably equipped to do well with her designs, having excelled in her metal and jewellery studies at college, and possessing a great eye for artistic form. She adored the glass-beaded and liquid silver bracelet Laura had designed for her thirtieth birthday a few months earlier. It was so ‘her’ and exactly what she would have chosen for herself. She remembered being completely taken aback when Laura had eventually admitted that she designed the piece herself.
“I’ve been doing a few bits and pieces at home,” she had said shyly. “Neil sourced the materials for me.”
Since meeting her fiancé, Laura had become a different girl. Neil Connolly had brought out the very best in her, and had recognised Laura’s love for working with her hands, duly encouraging it. He had obviously provided sufficient encouragement to give her the confidence to offer her designs for sale. Good for her.
“You don’t think I’m mad? For giving up my job and everything?” Laura bit her lip, and looked warily at Helen, who was busily lighting a cigarette.
“Don’t be silly,” Nicola answered, when Helen didn’t respond. “It’s a fantastic idea and I think you’ll do extremely well. I’m sure there’s a market for your work and these days everyone wants something different and original – something they can show off.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely! It’s terrific news!” Nicola reached across and gave her a hug. “Is Neil thrilled you’re finally going for it?”
Laura nodded. “Well, yes, he’s very much behind me on it and so supportive.”
Of course Neil would be supportive of Laura’s dreams, Nicola thought. He absolutely adored her, notwithstanding the fact that he knew first-hand what it was like to be self-employed, working as he did in the family travel agency.
“Well, like I do, he knows how talented and hardworking you are. Any regrets about leaving Morley’s?” She knew that Laura had never been happy with her job in the accounts office of the popular Dublin department store. In fact, she couldn’t remember Laura ever being completely happy in any job. Obviously her friend had finally decided that she should exploit her creative talents, and that nine-to-five was not her thing.
“No, none at all. I’d been working up to resigning for months and now – well, now I’m free to work on pursuing my dream!” She grinned excitedly. “Oh, I’m so pleased you’re behind me on this. I wasn’t sure what kind of a reaction I’d get. I haven’t yet told that many people.”
“Well, anyone who sees your jewellery will know as well as I do that you can make a real go of this. You already have a business plan?”
Laura nodded seriously. “I’ve already begun the groundwork. The bank has agreed to finance on the basis of my business plan, and Neil and I are going to use some of our savings. I’ve registered with the Crafts Council and the Enterprise Board – they’ve seen my designs and, believe it or not, they sound really positive about it, so maybe I might get some kind of a grant. I’m not sure yet. I’ll just have to wait and see . . .”
Laura’s pretty face glowed with enthusiasm and her dark, almost black eyes shone with passion. If anyone could do this, Nicola thought, Laura could. She was delighted for her friend; she obviously wanted to make a real go of it, and her designs were excellent. Given time, this business could definitely take off.
She just wished Helen would say something.
Apparently oblivious to Helen’s silence, Laura outlined the remainder of her plans. “The Craft Council have already given me lots of help getting started with the accounting and the paperwork, so I hope to be open for business within the next couple of weeks and well before the wedding. It’s now June, so I’ll have a few months to find my feet, and then we’ll do a full-on promotional drive in November, just in time for Christmas. With all that, and hopefully with a bit of word of mouth, I’ll get the name out and about in no time.” She grinned happily.
“Well, I’ll be telling everyone all about you!” Nicola said. “And I’ll make sure that I wear that fab bracelet you designed for me. People admire it every time I wear it – now I can tell them where they can get one for themselves!” Nicola squeezed her friend’s hand. “Oh, it’s really fantastic news. I’m so proud of you. Speaking of proud – what did your mother say? She must be over the moon about it!” She inwardly urged Helen to say something – anything.
Laura shook her head, and glanced again towards Helen. “I haven’t told them about it yet – they’ll just worry about my resigning, what with the wedding coming up. Anyway, I want to get everything up and running before I tell them.”
“They’ll be thrilled, Laura. Who wouldn’t? Imagine their daughter – an entrepreneur!”
“I know.” Laura smiled bashfully. Then she drained her glass and stood up. “Back in a minute, nature calls!”
When she was safely out of earshot, Nicola glared at Helen. “Why the hell didn’t you say something? Didn’t you see her watching for your reaction?”
Helen frowned and exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. “I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t trust myself to speak,” she said evenly. “Personally, I think she’s stone mad. What does someone like Laura know about running a business?”
Nicola sighed. She wished sometimes that Helen could see past their friend’s timidity, and in this case realise that Laura was incredibly brave for doing what she was about to do. But Helen seemed to have a knack for making her feel inferior.
It had been that way for as long as Nicola had known the two of them. They had been friends since childhood, both coming from the same Carlow village, but Helen had always been the confident and independent one, Laura the shy awkward one in her friend’s shadow.
Nicola had met Helen many years ago when she had been going out briefly with Nicola’s older brother Jack. The two women had hit it off immediately, and had stayed friends long after the relationship ended. She had got to know Laura through Helen, and soon discovered that in Laura Fanning one couldn’t find a more loyal or generous friend. More often than once, and especially in recent years, Laura had been her rock.
Now she was prepared to return the favour, and give Laura every ounce of support and encouragement possible. It was the very least her friend deserved. Nicola wished that Helen was prepared to do the same.
“I mean, why give up a perfectly good job to play arts and crafts in your front room?” Helen shook her head. “I just don’t know.”
“Well, can’t you just pretend that you’re happy, then – for her sake? She’s really excited about this.”
“Maybe, but you and I know that Laura doesn’t have the killer instinct.”
Nicola made a face. “Killer instinct? Like you, you mean? Come on, Helen. Give the girl a break.”
“Seriously, Nic. What does Laura know about selling anything? She’s too emotional, too nice to survive in the cut and thrust of the
business world. It’s dog eat dog out there. You know that.”
“I’m sure Laura knows that too. Look, it’ll be hard enough getting started without hearing negatives from us. Could you just keep your opinions to yourself for once, and show the girl some support? She’d do it for you.”
Helen nodded. “OK, but this will only end in tears, I’m sure of it.”
“Sssh, she’s coming back,” Nicola whispered, hearing footsteps outside the door.
Laura rejoined them on the sofa, still full of obvious excitement.
“So what do you think, Helen?” she asked directly, her face eager.
Helen stubbed out her cigarette. “Look, are you absolutely sure that you’ve thought this through properly?” she said, and Nicola’s heart sank even further than Laura’s expression. “I mean, I know that you’ve always been into that kind of thing, but realistically, Laura, will it pay your mortgage for you?”
Laura looked away. “I’m not going into this blind, you know,” she said quietly. “Neil and I have discussed it. We have some savings to use as working capital and he’s sure that we can make it work. I told you that I signed up with the Crafts Council and they think –”
“Look, I’m sorry but I’ve never heard of anyone making millions selling hand-made trinkets – not someone like yourself anyway.”
“Helen!” Nicola was shocked at her bluntness.
Laura looked duly wounded.
“Oh, look, I’m not being nasty – you know exactly what I mean.” She turned to Laura. “In business, you need a thick skin. You need to be pushy and confident and, Laura, you’re not like that.”
“I’m sure she’ll learn, Helen,” Nicola said shortly, unable to hide her annoyance.
Helen took the hint and her tone softened. “Look, all I’m saying is that it won’t be easy. You and Neil are getting married soon and I’m sure that’s drained your savings a little?”
Laura nodded.
“And what about the mortgage? How will the two of you cope on just one salary? Laura, are you absolutely certain that you’ve thought it through?”
“Of course I have! Believe me, I kept it to myself but I’ve thought of nothing else for the past year and a half,” Laura answered hoarsely. “I’ve done the market research, I’ve got a business plan and Neil thinks – Neil thinks it’s a great idea, that there’s a market, that I would be good at it.”
