by Melissa Hill
In fairness, if Laura got a big order now she might not even be able to fulfil it, what with the wedding coming up and everything. Maybe it was just as well that things were slack, at least for the time being.
And the Golden Pages wasn’t out yet, so she couldn’t really expect the phone to be ringing off the hook, when nobody knew where to find her. Once the directory was in circulation, and the half-page ad on which she had spent a fortune appeared, she was sure to have some enquiries. Weren’t they always saying in those radio ads that people’s business doubled and tripled as a result of having their number in the Golden Pages?
Still though, double and triple of nothing wasn’t much good.
Laura tried to clear her mind. She really had to stop thinking negatively. Things were bound to improve.
In fairness, it wasn’t all doom and gloom. The Crafts Council had promised to circulate her name throughout the trade, and of course there was always the Crafts Exhibition, which incidentally was coming up soon. Yes, it was coming up soon after the wedding! Laura had almost forgotten about that.
That’s what she’d do then, she thought, feeling a burst of energy that she hadn’t felt in a while. She’d concentrate on coming up with the best possible designs, and showcase the very best of her skills at the exhibition.
Surely something would come out of that?
With renewed vigour, Laura set about finishing her wedding tiara and making a start on the jewellery for her bridesmaids.
Half an hour later, she was so engrossed in her work that she almost didn’t hear the phone ringing.
Heart pounding in expectation (as always), Laura picked up.
“Laura, where were you? I almost hung up!” Helen sounded frantic.
“In the workshop – why, what’s wrong?”
Helen took a deep breath. “I need to ask you a really huge favour.”
“Sure, what?”
“Is there any chance you can collect Kerry from playschool today? She finishes at two.”
“Out in Loughlinstown?”
“Yes, look, I’m really sorry to ring you like this, but Jo has let me down and I have meetings all afternoon. Please, Laura? You’d be doing me a massive favour.”
Laura thought about it. She’d hardly get the wedding jewellery finished today if she had to traipse all the way out to Loughlinstown and back on a Friday afternoon. Still, what else could she do? She wouldn’t dream of leaving Kerry stranded out there. She wondered idly why Jo wasn’t doing it. Helen’s childminder was normally so reliable. Maybe she was ill or something.
“Laura?” Helen was waiting for her reply.
“Sorry, yes, yes, I’ll do it – no problem.”
Helen breathed an obvious sigh of relief. “I owe you one, Laura, I really do. I’d go myself only – only we’re hoping to nail down a big account here, and I really need the commission.”
“It’s fine, Helen. Just make sure that her teacher knows I’m collecting her. If they’re expecting her childminder – well, these days, they have to be sure.”
“Oh, I’ve already told them – I mean, they already know that someone other than Jo will be collecting her,” Helen said quickly. “I’ll give them a ring now and tell them to look out for you.”
“Right. And do you want me to drop her down to the office to you or . . . ?”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Is there any chance you could hold onto her for me? I’ll call and collect her from your place after work.”
Laura shrugged. “Sure. I’ll see you later then. Good luck with the meeting.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Laura hung up and went back into her workshop. It was just after twelve thirty so she might as well have a bite to eat now, before heading off to collect Kerry. She’d need to leave here by quarter past one at least. She sighed. Not a chance of getting any more work done before lunch, then. Still, it wasn’t as if she was bogged down, and Helen needed the favour.
Wasn’t it really lucky though that she was able to get away when she felt like it? Otherwise poor Helen would be really stuck.
* * *
At two o’clock that afternoon, exactly the time Laura reached Kerry’s playschool, her phone began to ring. After six rings the answering machine came on, and Laura’s pleasant tones filled the empty workshop.
“Hello, thank you for calling Laura Connolly Jewellery Design. We are unavailable to take your call just at the moment, but please leave your name and number, and we will call you back as soon as possible.”
A short throat-clear after the beep. “Hello? Sorry, I’m on a mobile and it’s a bad line. I saw your stuff on the internet and I . . . ink it’s great! My name is Ge . . . lden and I wanted to speak to someone . . . out the possibility of having an engagement ring commissioned. I was hoping for something really unusual, and I have a few ideas myself. Something . . . pedal and money’s . . . object. I’m planning to propose soon – during a holiday, actually – so I’d really like to . . . someone as soon as possible. My number is 086-2 . . . 26 . . . 68 . . . Thank you.”
Chapter 17
THAT SAME EVENING, as she sat in a quiet pub on Bray seafront, Nicola was staring out the window at a young couple pushing a buggy along the pier. She was sipping frothy cappuccino and taking in the view around her.
It was a spectacular August afternoon. Seagulls soared above the sea, occasionally dipping down towards the waves, and further out a flotilla of yachts passed slowly along the coast, obviously making the most of the settled weather. It had been a long time since she’d been here.
“Are you OK there?” the young barman enquired, emptying the ashtray. “Is that table a bit high for you – or do you want me to move it?”
“Not at all, I’m fine thanks.” Nicola smiled up at him. The pub was busy and it was a rare pleasure to find someone so helpful, not to mention considerate, in today’s hustle and bustle.
When they lived in their rented apartment in Bray, she and Dan had spent many a Sunday afternoon walking lazily along the pier with the day-trippers, skateboarders and dog-walkers. She smiled. Dan could never resist stopping off at a kiosk to buy one of those whipped ice-cream cones he was so fond of. And according to him, it was no good at all unless it was totally slathered in raspberry sauce.
“Hi.”
He appeared suddenly at her table as if from nowhere. Nicola felt her stomach spasm as she looked up into his face for the first time in over four years. He had aged, she thought His hair was cut in a short crop, which emphasised his lined forehead, and he looked as though he could do with losing a few pounds. But he was still a very attractive man.
“Hello, Dan.”
He was smiling, but she noticed that he too, looked slightly unsure. “I was almost afraid to disturb you. You looked as though you were miles away just then.”
“Sit down.” She gestured to the seat across from her. “Can I get you a coffee or something?” It was strange, but it was as if she didn’t recognise her own voice.
“I’ve got one on the way – thanks.” He pulled his chair forward, and rested an arm on the table. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Nic – I really wanted to see you. You look . . . terrific. How have you been?”
She wished he wouldn’t call her ‘Nic’ like that. It was way too familiar.
“I’m very well thanks – you?”
“Not too bad.”
He cleared his throat, and she sensed that he was struggling to say more, to move the conversation forward, yet he didn’t quite know how. Nicola wasn’t about to make it too easy for him.
‘There was a long tension-filled pause.
“So how did things go for you in London?” he asked eventually.
Nicola studied the bubbles on her cappuccino. “Not too bad. I’m still the same old me.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I suppose I should have told you I was back.”
“No, you shouldn’t. It would have been more than I deserved.” He gave her a sad look. “It was a hell of a shock getting
those papers like that.”
“I know. But there was nothing else I could have done.” Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t want to see, or even speak to you back then.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Another pause.
“Did you get . . . I mean did your aunt pass on my letter?”
Of course, Ellen had passed it on. At one stage back then, Nicola could recite every word, every sentence. “Yes, she did, thank you.” Then she smiled. “Look, let’s not talk about old times, Dan.” Nicola now felt unsure as to why she had come here, but she was certain she didn’t want to rake up the past. What was the point? Anyway, seeing Dan in the flesh hadn’t affected her as much as she had expected. All that time in London, she had thought about him, wondered how it would feel, how she would feel when she saw him again. But in truth, Nicola felt nothing other than . . . nostalgia. It was rather liberating.
Dan gave a rueful smile. “If you prefer. So tell me, how long have you been back?”
“Well over a year now. Ken Harris asked me to manage his new leisure centre. It’s in Rathfarnham.”
“Oh, really – and how is good old Ken these days?” His voice was hard.
Instantly Nicola put down her cup, and reached for her handbag. “This was a mistake.”
Dan’s face fell. “Oh look, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I have no right to say anything –”
“Dan, I didn’t agree to meet with you so that we could take up where we left off. If we’re trying here to be someway civil towards one another it would be best if we didn’t drag up the past – any of it.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It just popped out. I don’t want to bring up the past either.”
She nodded and tried to relax a little. She didn’t want this meeting to blow up into a big waste of time. It had taken a lot to come here, and she had felt guilty enough about it as it was.
As planned, she had told Ken about Dan’s phone call, and he hadn’t been as understanding about their forthcoming meeting as she had expected.
“What the fuck does he want?” Ken had said, in a tone she had never heard him use before.
“He wants to talk, I suppose.”
“But why now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, why didn’t he want to talk when you came back home in the first place? Why didn’t he want to talk long before you two divorced? But no, Dan couldn’t do that, could he? He had to wait until you were back on your feet and living your life properly again, before he could burst his way back on the scene and cause maximum damage.”
“That isn’t it, love.” Nicola was taken aback. Ken didn’t think much of Dan and in fairness she couldn’t blame him, but she hadn’t expected him to be so bitter. “He’s not ‘back on the scene’ as you put it. He’s getting married again.”
“Oh?” Ken was silent for a moment. “And who’s the poor misfortunate he’s marrying?”
“Ken!”
“What? What do you expect me to say – that I hope the two of them will be very happy, or something?”
Nicola looked at him. “What’s really going on here, Ken? Why are you so annoyed about this?”
“I’m annoyed because it took you long enough to get over it all, and now you seem quite happy to invite Dan back into your life without a second thought!”
“Without a second thought? Of course I’ve thought about it, Ken! I’ve done nothing but think about it since . . .” she trailed off, realising she had revealed more than she intended.
Ken immediately picked up on this. “Since what? Have you been hiding something from me, Nikki?”
She sighed. “No, not as such. But I knew Dan was getting married again before he told me himself.” She explained about the mix-up with the wedding invitations.
“Jesus! So, he probably had no intention of telling you himself and yet he snaps his fingers and you come running!”
“Hey, I’m not running anywhere, remember?” Nicola said, eyes flashing.
Ken hung his head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why you feel such a need to meet with him. Surely a telephone call is enough.”
“It’s not that I need to – I want to.”
Ken looked at her sadly. “Why? Do you still have feelings for Dan Hunt? Because if you do, then you really need to think hard about what you’re doing with me. I love you, Nicola, and I know how things were for you back then. I don’t want you to have to go through it all again.”
“I know that, love. But meeting Dan again isn’t going to affect what you and I have now. He’s moved on, and I’ve moved on. That’s all there is to it, believe me.”
Ken gave her a watery smile, but Nicola knew he was still unsure – and definitely unhappy – about it all.
Now she looked across at Dan. “I suppose I might as well tell you – Ken Harris and I are together now.”
“Together – as in together?” Dan’s eyes widened.
“You look surprised.” No, Nicola thought, he looked totally shocked.
“No, no – not surprised as such. I mean, I just didn’t expect that you –”
“That I would find someone else? Whyever not, Dan?” Nicola chuckled inwardly at his panicked expression.
“No, it’s not that. I mean . . . of course I knew you’d find someone else,” he said, flustered. “I just didn’t expect it to be Harris, that’s all.”
She smiled. That had certainly pulled the rug out from under him!
“So what about you?” Nicola asked, changing the subject. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”
Dan shot her a wary look, as if he hadn’t expected her to be so casual about it. “Ah, it’s all busy, busy, busy. A bit too much fuss for my liking, to be honest.”
“I can imagine. Is she younger than you – your fiancée?”
“Chloe? Not too much younger – she’ll be twenty-eight soon.”
“Chloe – nice name.”
“Yes.”
“So how long have you two been . . . ?”
“Together? Not that long, just over a year,” Dan said quickly.
“Oh, a short engagement then.”
“Yes, Chloe was anxious to get married.” He shrugged and trailed off as the barman approached with his coffee and they were both silent until he had retreated.
Dan sighed. “Nic, I just want to say how sorry I am that you found out second-hand about the wedding. I would have told you myself, but I had no idea you were back.”
“Well, I hadn’t planned on staying away for that long, but things seemed easier when I was away.”
“I know.”
Do you? She wanted to ask. Do you really?
Instead she asked, “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes. How are things going for you now? The practice going well?”
He nodded and took a mouthful of coffee. “Almost too well. We’re constantly up to our eyes, and we can well afford someone permanent, but instead John keeps insisting that we take on these part-timers. Most of them are fresh out of college, and haven’t the foggiest.” He rolled his eyes as he set his cup down.
Despite herself, Nicola grinned. Even if these poor misfortunates had been in the business for years, Dan would still maintain that they hadn’t ‘the foggiest’. But trust John O’Leary to be watching the pennies.
“How is John these days – and Carolyn?”
“John’s fine, but he and Carolyn are separated now.”
“Oh!” Nicola was surprised. She had sensed that Carolyn was a little distant with her that day in town with Laura. Now she knew why.
“I know. I thought they’d make it but you just never know, do you?” She could feel the weight of his gaze on her face.
“No, you never know.” Nicola looked out towards the pier.
There was a short strained silence.
“And what about Laura and Neil?” Dan said eventually. “They finally decided to tie the knot.”
“Yes.”
Nicola smiled.
“I’m so pleased for them.”
“Well, she deserves it, and Neil is a good man.”
“Unlike some we could mention?”
Nicola giggled, knowing exactly what he meant. Before she and Dan were married, and long before her friend had even met Neil, Laura had been going out with a pompous know-it-all called James Gallagher, whom they all hated. Dan had managed to get on with him for appearances’ sake, but Nicola, and indeed Helen, had disliked him passionately.
“You and Helen gave him such a hard time,” Dan said with a groan. “Remember the time we went to that restaurant, that Thai one in town –”
“Do I what!” Nicola groaned. “And there he was, going on and on about the menu, pretending to be some kind of Thai connoisseur, just because he had a flight stopover in Bangkok once.”
“And Helen told him that the Nurr Pud Piroth was the mildest dish on the menu, knowing full well that he couldn’t even handle a Tikka Masala!” Dan guffawed at the memory. “For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the expression on his face when he tasted that. It’s not called Angry Beef for nothing.”
Nicola grinned. “Well, it served him bloody right. And then, of course, he got in a big sulk with Jamie for laughing at him.”
“How is Jamie? God, he was a gas man altogether. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Neither has Helen,” she said drily.
“What? What happened? I thought those two were together for life.”
“A lot’s changed since then, Dan. Helen has a daughter now. Kerry – she’s a beautiful little thing, the spit of her mother.”
“She met someone else?”
Nicola made a face. Trust Dan to assume that Helen was the one who caused the problem.
“No, Kerry is Jamie’s daughter. But the pregnancy was unplanned and they went through a tough time after they found out about it.” She shrugged. “Jamie took off to South Africa after deciding he wasn’t able to face up to his responsibilities. He left her on her own, apparently not caring whether she sank or swam.”
“Well,” Dan said pausing carefully, “maybe he was just frightened by the situation, and wasn’t quite sure what to do.”
“And what about her? She didn’t have much of a choice, did she? What was she supposed to do?”
