Not What You Think

by Melissa Hill

  Anyway, she thought, quickening her pace towards the hair salon, Nicola wouldn’t be in the mood for any nonsense by the time she got out of that traffic. Didn’t she already have a face that would trip a jackass when she left her?

  She was comfortably ensconced in the salon and chatting affably to her hairdresser, when she got a text message from Nicola: “Meet me outside Arnotts when you’re ready.”

  That was quick. Laura replaced her mobile in her handbag, while at the same time trying to keep her head perfectly still. The queue of traffic must have broken up in no time at all after she left. Good – Nicola might be that bit more relaxed now.

  Soon after, Laura left the salon happily coiffed, and made her way towards Arnotts Department Store. She almost immediately spied Nicola leaning casually just inside the entrance, smoking a cigarette. As she drew near, she saw that her friend wasn’t alone. A tall, dark-suited man wearing an overcoat seemed to be having some kind of ‘discussion’ with her. Judging by the fact that his face was puce and he was waving his arms animatedly in the air, he wasn’t just bemoaning the weather.

  “But – but, you can’t just up and leave!” Laura heard the man splutter.

  Oh dear, what had Nicola done now, she wondered, approaching the two.

  “And why not?” Nicola exhaled her cigarette smoke, and gave him a look that would flatten Lennox Lewis. “Is it my problem that no one in this godforsaken city has a clue how to manage the bloody traffic?”

  “So your way around the problem is to just up and out of it, is it?”

  “Yep,” Nicola said, in a tone that bode no argument.

  “But what about the rest of us?” the man cried in astonishment. “What about the likes of me who’s been stuck directly behind your blasted yellow Polo for the last hour or so!”

  “Blame the Corporation,” Nicola said matter-of-factly. “Now, I’m sorry but I don’t have time to stand around and chat about this all day long. My friend is here now and we’re going shopping, aren’t we, Laura?”

  “What’s happened, Nicola? Where’s the car?” Laura asked.

  “Where’s the car, she asks?” the man yelled. “Where’s the car? I’ll tell you where the bloody car is – it’s abandoned in the middle of bloody O’Connell St, that’s where it is!”

  “Oh, you didn’t?” Laura regarded her with a look of absolute astonishment.

  Nicola shrugged her shoulders. “I was going mad, Laura. I couldn’t wait there any longer.”

  “So she just gets out, slings her handbag over her shoulder, slams the door and stomps off in the direction of Henry St without a care in the world!” exclaimed the attractive but so-far-unnamed man, shaking his head from side to side. “I couldn’t believe my bloody eyes when I saw it happening!”

  “But you’ll be towed away or clamped or something!” Laura cried. Nicola would be lucky not be arrested. But not for the first time, her impatience had got the better of her and she had simply flown in the face of everyone else and had done her own thing. How embarrassing!

  Nicola put a hand on her hip. “Better than waiting another hour before I could even begin looking for, a parking space. Now, come on, we’re wasting valuable shopping time standing around like this.”

  “I don’t bloody believe this,” the man said with another shake of his head. “I just don’t bloody believe this.”

  Laura looked at her friend, who shrugged again and obviously wasn’t a bit put out about it. She supposed she’d better say something to the poor fellow.

  “I’m really sorry, Mr . . .” Laura began.

  “Hunt,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “Dan Hunt.”

  “Well, Mr Hunt, I’m sure Nicola just acted on the spur of the moment. The traffic situation is pretty bad this evening and –”

  “Well, if it was bloody bad before, it’s a lot bloody worse now! I can’t move! And then, then I get bloody soaked trying to run after this – this bloody woman!” Laura noticed that the ‘bloody’ word-count was getting higher by the second.

  “OK, OK, I’ll go back to the blasted car!” Nicola flung her cigarette butt on the ground and squashed it vehemently under her foot, before stomping up towards O’Connell St, Laura and the businessman struggling to keep up with her in the pouring rain.

  Laura could hear the honking and horning even before they reached the top of the street and there, in exactly the same spot where she had got out, was her friend’s bright yellow Polo. Except by now there was a long stretch of clear road in front of it, and the traffic in the lane alongside was moving very slowly, leaving no opportunity for the drivers in Nicola’s lane to overtake.

  Her friend’s return was met with a resounding chorus of beeps and jeers from the drivers misfortunate enough to be marooned behind the Polo.

  “Get that feckin’ banger off the road!” a bus driver two cars down shouted at her.

  Nicola mortified Laura even further by giving him the finger before she casually unlocked the car and plonked herself in the driver’s seat. Laura tried desperately to make herself invisible as she waited for Nicola to unlock the passenger door.

  Dan Hunt tapped the driver’s window.

  “Thank you,” he said, exasperated, rainwater dripping from his nose. “Thank you so bloody much. Not only have I missed my bloody flight but now I’ve probably gone and caught bloody pneumonia running around after the likes of you.” He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his dripping overcoat. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Nicola made a face as another driver mouthed silent abuse at her from the other lane.

  “Don’t you have anything to say?” Dan Hunt’s voice rose in frustration as he struggled to wipe away the incessant drops falling from his dark fringe. Laura couldn’t help but stare. His alarmingly blue eyes looked striking against his drenched skin. “Or do you think all of this is funny, or something?”

  “Sorry.” Nicola grinned brazenly as she started the engine.

  “I don’t bloody believe this,” he said for about the third time that day. “I just don’t bloody believe this.”

  But as he looked away, Laura noticed that, despite himself, the corners of Dan Hunt’s mouth had risen upwards with the beginnings of what, seconds later, became a breathtaking smile.

  Chapter 8

  “NEWS? WHAT KIND of news?”

  At the other end of the line, Laura detected a note of apprehension in her mother’s tone.

  “Nothing bad, Mam. Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll wait until we get there and then I’ll tell you everything, OK?”

  Maureen Fanning’s miffed tone was palpable. “Suit yourself. But don’t be dilly-dallying on your way down – the dinner will be on the table at seven and not a minute later.”

  Laura rang off having assured her mother that she and Neil would make it their business to be at her parents’ house by dinnertime. She went back into the living-room, where Neil was enjoying what had lately become a rare opportunity to flop in front of the television, Eamonn the cat in his lap.

  “Well, did you tell her?” he asked, lazily stroking the cat’s fur.

  Laura shook her head. “I told her I had some news but she seemed a bit preoccupied. I think I might leave it for a while, Neil – at least until after the wedding.”

  “Why do you keep putting off telling them, love? They’ll be thrilled when they find out And you said yourself that you’ll be meeting so many people at the wedding it would be a shame to waste the opportunity for a little self-promotion.”

  “I know, but –”

  “But what? Come here a second.” Neil indicated the space beside him and when Laura sat down he put his arms around her. At this, Eamonn gave him the cat version of a dirty look. “Look, I know you’re nervous about all of this. It’s one thing to talk about it amongst ourselves, but quite another to tell the world about it, right?”

  She nodded.

  “But this is what being in business is all about, love. You have to let people know you exist, othe
rwise how will you sell anything?”

  Laura grimaced. “I know. I’m being stupid. But I’ve put so much work into setting it up, I just hope that people won’t think I’m making a big mistake.”

  “Who cares what people think? What is it to them? You’re the one taking the chance, and you’re the one doing all the work. Not to mention taking all the profits,” he added with a grin. “Look, I know how you feel. Hold off telling the world until after the wedding if you’d prefer. But you need at least to tell your family about it. And look, with the likes of your mother on the case, you’ll get as much coverage as you would with a billboard in Times Square.”

  Laura sat up. “I never thought of that.”

  Neil was right. She had been putting off telling her parents about the new business because she thought that they would worry about Neil and her having only one source of income, what with the wedding and the new mortgage. But she had forgotten how much her mother loved to boast about her family to all and sundry in the village.

  When Laura’s younger married sister, Cathy, had three years ago produced twin boys – the first Fanning grandchildren – Maureen had been ecstatic, and there was no one in Glengarrah that didn’t know all about it, from the weight of the babies to the number of stitches her misfortunate sister had needed afterwards.

  Maureen would be in her element with the news that her older daughter was entering the business world. She could just imagine her mother after Mass on a Sunday.

  “Laura? She’s in Dublin now. Yes, getting married to a lovely respectable fellow. Oh, you didn’t know she had her own business? Yes, she’s doing very well, can hardly keep up with the demand. But sure, we always knew she’d make something of herself.” All said in the irritating smug tone that Laura usually hated, but could easily tolerate if Maureen was talking about her.

  It would be nice to give her mother something to boast about – for once. She had never been particularly bright at school and her exam results (with the exception of Art, at which she excelled) were usually best kept hidden.

  In her mother’s eyes, the Art & Design diploma she had taken had been a complete waste of time.

  “You’ll never find employment drawing pictures and making matchstick men,” she had told Laura shortly after graduation. “You should go back to the Tech for a year and do a secretarial course.”

  Although in fairness, the one-year computer course she had taken after her diploma had certainly proved itself useful in Laura’s finding employment. She had never any problems in that regard. The words that kept cropping up in her references were ‘dedicated, diligent and dependable’, which in her opinion translated to ‘dull, dull and dull’. She found no excitement, no challenge in drawing up reports and churning out figures on some pre-programmed software package. She had thought computers would stimulate her imagination, and that accounts might be a little less humdrum than banking or sales, both of which she had tried in equal measures.

  Her hobby had been her only escape from her mind-numbing working week, and it wasn’t until she had met Neil, who made her feel as though she could do anything, that Laura began to consider putting her God-given talents to good use.

  These last few weeks had been absolute bliss. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive, so blissfully happy. For the first time ever, she felt as though she knew exactly where she was going with the rest of her life.

  It would be brilliant telling the others, and seeing the pride in her parents’ faces. Their daughter – a successful businesswoman, a brave entrepreneur.

  Her family would be thrilled.

  * * *

  “What do you mean you gave up your job? Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” Maureen Fanning trilled.

  Laura and Neil had arrived at the Fanning household in Glengarrah earlier that evening, and the dishes had just been cleared away when Laura made her announcement.

  She felt her heart pound. “It’s not stupid, Mam. I haven’t been happy with what I’ve been doing for a long time now. You know that.”

  “Sure none of us are happy with what we’re doing, but don’t we have to put up with it?” Maureen began to sweep the floor. “Do you think that I was happy stuck here day after day cleaning up after you lot for most of my life? I had no choice, Laura.”

  “But that’s it, Mam. I have a choice. And I’ve decided . . .” she looked at Neil and he gave her a supportive wink, “I’ve decided to go into business on my own – selling my jewellery.”

  Maureen gave a curt laugh and Laura felt her insides tighten.

  “Your jewellery? You mean the bits and pieces of plastic that you’re always messing around with? Why would anyone be interested in the likes of that?”

  “Because she’s talented, Maureen.” By his tone, Laura knew that Neil was annoyed. “Your daughter is one of the most talented and hardworking people I know.”

  “But it’s only a hobby, Laura!” Maureen continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “Your ‘jewellery’ is all right for the likes of us, but you don’t seriously expect decent people to pay out good money for those things, do you?”

  “And why not?” Laura felt the blood pulse through her veins and two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks as she raised her voice. “Those things were all right for you and your cronies down at the flower club when any of their daughters were getting married, or going to a debs, weren’t they?”

  Maureen, taken aback by her daughter’s uncharacteristic outburst, pursed her lips and continued sweeping, saying nothing more.

  Laura felt like she always did when Maureen tried this tactic – like an absolute heel. “Mam, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to shout at you, but this is really important and it’s a big step. I had hoped you’d be happy for me.”

  “And what are you going to do – set up a stall in Moore Street, or something?”

  Laura bit her tongue. “No, Mam, it’ll be a real business.”

  “I see.” Maureen paused and put a hand on her hip. “Look, I think that you’re fooling yourself if you think you can make some kind of living out of this. We’re just ordinary working people, Laura. We’re not the types to be setting up businesses.” At this, she glanced slyly across at Neil. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about it”

  Neil had to say something.

  “Maureen, with all due respect, if you feel that way, then you really don’t know your daughter. She’s worked hands-on in accounts and retail for years, and knows possibly as much about business as any college graduate. Not to mention you’re completely ignoring the fact that she’s bloody good at what she does.”

  Maureen’s head snapped up his tone and at the mention of what she considered a swear word.

  Laura sighed. “Mam, I’m not going into this with my eyes closed. I’ve done the market research and there seems to be a definite niche there.”

  “But giving up your job – now of all times, with the wedding and everything,” Joe Fanning said quietly.

  Laura couldn’t read her father’s expression, so she wasn’t sure whether or not he agreed with Maureen.

  “You should see some of the designs she’s come up with,” Neil offered, hoping to turn the tide a little. “People are raving about them already.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, cop on to yourselves!” Maureen said tightly. “People rave about my sponge cakes, but you don’t see me going off pretending that I’m the next Delia Smith, do you?”

  Laura tried to bite back the tears she knew were threatening.

  “I think you’re running away with yourself, Laura. And as your mother, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you don’t do anything stupid, and fall flat on your face. Setting up your own business, indeed!”

  The others were silent, and for a long moment the air was thick with tension.

  Eventually Maureen spoke again. “And what about Miss Jackson – I suppose she’s all for it?” she asked with, Laura thought, a hint of sarcasm.

  “Helen is very supportive, yes.” She wa
sn’t about to give her mother ammunition by admitting that in the beginning Helen had been far from enthusiastic at the prospect. Although lately, her friend had been making a bit of an effort, and had even offered to put Laura in touch with some of her contacts in the business world.

  “Well, isn’t it well for her to be supportive of some people?” Maureen said. “And her poor father living all on his own above on the farm. He hasn’t seen sight nor sound of her in over a month, he says.” Maureen had never made any secret of her dislike of Laura’s childhood friend.

  “Helen’s very busy at work, Mam. She doesn’t always have the time.”

  “Hah! I’m sure she’s plenty of time for gallivanting with fellas, though. She certainly did plenty of that when she was here.”

  Helen’s good looks had always ensured she was popular with men, but unlike some of their friends, Helen didn’t sleep around. Maureen was being grossly unfair.

  “And I suppose there’s still no sign of the child’s father?” Helen’s single motherhood was another cause of Maureen’s sanctimonious ire.

  “No, Mam, he abandoned Helen, remember?” For some reason Laura always felt obliged to stand up for Helen. Not that her friend would need anyone to fight her corner, Helen being well used to (and more than able for) the judgmental residents of Glengarrah.

  Maureen sniffed. “I’m not surprised he wouldn’t marry her. That one was always too big for her own boots.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Laura saw Neil smile and shake his head. Maureen’s narrow-minded attitude was always a great source of entertainment to him but it annoyed Laura no end that her mother couldn’t even be the tiniest bit gracious about anyone that went their own way. Helen was doing her best. What right had Maureen to criticise her way of life?