‘You’ll have to tell them some time.’
‘I will once I get a job and can pay my way,’ Krystie assured her, ‘but for the moment I’m going to lie low.’
‘There’s not much chance of you meeting anyone you know where I live.’
‘Exactly where do you live now?’ Krystie asked.
Sharon grinned. ‘Greystones.’
Krystie gawped at her. ‘Greystones in Wicklow? But that’s feckin’ miles away!’
‘It doesn’t take long on the motorway.’
‘Still, you have to let me pay for the petrol. I thought you’d still be living in Ballymun.’
‘No, I needed to get as far away from Marty and his family as possible. And, though I wanted to buy a place of my own, I didn’t want to spend a fortune, either.’
‘What about your job?’ Krystie asked. Sharon had worked as a beauty therapist not far from where she’d lived.
‘I’m freelance now. I work in the local hotel health spas. It’s great. Variable hours, I get to meet more people and it pays better too.’
‘Good, I’m glad, you deserve it.’ Krystie could strangle Marty for all he’d put Sharon through. He’d been damn lucky she’d agreed to marry him in the first place: she was far too good for him, and then he was stupid enough to let her go. She knew that, for all the bravado, Sharon didn’t think so right now, but she really was better off without him.
‘I warn you, I don’t live in a palace.’
Krystie thought of the draughty apartment in New York with paper-thin walls and grinned. ‘Have you got heating?’
‘Of course I have!’
‘Then it’s a palace to me.’ Krystie laughed.
‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out in New York for you,’ Sharon said.
‘Oh, well, that’s life, eh?’ Not the type to dwell on things she couldn’t change, Krystie was already thinking of the future.
‘What’s the plan, Krystie? Are you going to settle down in Dublin?’
‘No idea, I’ll have to play it by ear.’
‘You know, I may be living in the next county, but the train station is only five minutes from the house. You’re welcome to stay with me if you can’t face living with your folks.’
Krystie was sorely tempted. Moving back in with her parents seemed a huge step backwards, and a humiliating one – her little sister was going to love it. But it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of Sharon’s kindness. ‘No, really, I’ll be grand. I just need a few days to get sorted and then I’ll go and see them and make the big announcement.’
‘Your mother will be so happy to have you home.’
‘And Fallon will be delighted to see me back with my tail between my legs.’
‘Feck her. Why does she have to know anything? Can’t you pretend you’re here for some other reason?’
‘Er, I think once I’m living with the folks and working in a burger joint it might give the game away. Oh, look, I had it coming,’ Krystie admitted. ‘I pretended to be doing a lot better than I was but now they’ll know the truth: I’m a failure.’
‘Rubbish. You’ve supported yourself all these years and had quite an adventure. That’s not exactly failing. Anyway, forget about it for now and let’s concentrate on having some fun.’
Krystie smiled. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ve missed you, Sharon. I’m looking forward to catching up. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.’
‘My wedding day,’ Sharon said.
‘Oh, God, so it was.’ Krystie said feeling awful. How could she have forgotten? ‘But now that you’re free and single again it’s only a matter of time before a gorgeous, rich man comes along and sweeps you off your feet.’
‘Gorgeous and rich? Yeah, I keep tripping over guys like that. No, I’d settle for a nice, straightforward guy that I could cuddle and watch telly with in the evening,’ Sharon assured her with a sad smile. ‘Just a good man that I could depend on.’
‘Agreed. But it wouldn’t hurt if he was gorgeous and rich too.’
Sharon grinned. ‘Ha, no, that wouldn’t hurt at all.’
Twenty minutes later they drove into the pretty little seaside town and Krystie lowered the window to breathe in the salty sea air.
‘What are you doing? It’s freezing,’ Sharon complained.
‘After New York this is mild,’ Krystie assured her. The sky was grey but it was a dry day with only a light breeze. ‘It’s years since I’ve been here. Ma used to bring us out on the train when we were kids.’
‘We came a few times but more often we got off in Bray. We loved the promenade, the bumper cars and the amusement arcades.’
‘Oh, we would have loved that but Ma was terrified of taking us there. Her da was a gambler and she wouldn’t let us near a slot machine. She was sure it was genetic.’
‘It’s a fool’s game,’ Sharon agreed, turning the car into a laneway. ‘We’re home!’
Krystie looked around at the horseshoe of pretty little chalets painted in pastel shades of blue, green and pink. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. Having second thoughts about staying with me?’
‘Are you crazy? I love it.’ Krystie smiled as her eyes roamed round the tiny gardens with white picket fences and, despite the season, the hanging baskets swaying by each hall door.
‘Me too,’ Sharon said. ‘It will look even better in December. We all club together for fairy lights and string them across the road between the telegraph poles and we put up a Christmas tree on the green.’
The ‘green’ was a tiny patch of grass in the centre of the horseshoe and Krystie could imagine how pretty it would look at night with the lights twinkling.
‘And this is my place.’ She parked outside a chalet on the far side of the green. It was painted pink and the hall door was a rich shade of plum.
‘Oh, Sharon, it’s gorgeous.’
‘You haven’t seen inside yet,’ Sharon warned. ‘It’s pretty basic.’
‘You don’t say “basic”, you say “contemporary”, darling,’ Krystie told her in her posh accent.
Sharon laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll show you round and make a cuppa and we’ll get the bags later.’
‘Fine by me. I have the important one right here.’ Krystie held up the duty-free bag.
The hall door opened into the sitting room and Sharon threw her coat on the sofa and gave her the grand tour.
‘My bedroom.’ She threw open the first door on the right. It was a small square room decorated in muted pinks and plums and it was pretty and warm and inviting.
Krystie smiled. ‘I’d say the men love this.’
‘They might if they ever got to see it,’ Sharon said dryly, ‘but currently this is a man-free zone, and that’s the way I like it.’ She opened the second door to reveal a small but immaculate blue and white bathroom. ‘The bathroom. The shower is a bit unpredictable so always check with your hand before you get in.’
‘Will do.’ Krystie saluted.
‘And this is your room.’ She opened the third door to reveal a bedroom much like her own but done out in different shades of blue.
‘It’s gorgeous, Sharon, thanks so much for inviting me.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Sharon hugged her. ‘It’s great to have you here.’ She led the way through a small archway to a kitchenette. ‘And this is where I open the takeaways and store the microwave meals.’
Krystie laughed. ‘Still a lousy cook, then?’
‘I’m the only person I know who can burn a boiled egg. You know, I probably miss Marty for his cooking more than anything.’
‘Well, I’ll cook for you. That’s one thing I got quite good at. Laura, one of my flatmates, was from an Italian family and she taught me how to make some really gorgeous and cheap pasta sauces. And Sandy’s mother gave us the most amazing cookbook with loads of easy recipes for meals under five dollars.’
‘In that case, missus, you can come and stay any time you like. Coffee?’
‘Got any cream?’
‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’
‘Then let’s make them Irish coffees, or French, or Mexican.’ Krystie took a bottle of whiskey, a bottle of brandy and lastly a bottle of Tequila from the bag.
‘It’s only lunchtime,’ Sharon said, laughing.
‘Oh, nearly forgot lunch. Ta-da!’ Krystie produced a box of chocolates.
‘Oh, go on, then, why not? How the hell did you manage to bring in that amount of booze?’
‘I befriended this very nice Mormon lady who gave me her allowance.’
‘You always could sweet-talk your way in and out of anything.’
‘Not always,’ Krystie said, remembering Phyllis’s grim expression when she fired her.
‘Okay, you go grab your bags and I’ll put the coffee on.’
Krystie went out to the car and paused again to breathe in the tangy sea air and admire the pretty little nook that Sharon called home, feeling suddenly happy and optimistic. The breeze picked up, making her shiver, and, after taking her luggage from the car, she hurried back inside.
Chapter Eight
The next few days were devoted to an orgy of sleeping, strolling along the beach, lazy pub lunches and long evenings curled up on Sharon’s sofa catching up on all the gossip. Krystie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed. Sharon had such a comfortable little home and it was a bonus to find that she also had wi-fi. Krystie had enjoyed a long chat on Skype with Sandy the previous night and had been able to introduce her American best friend to her Irish one.
‘You have to come and visit,’ Sharon had said, taking an instant liking to the girl.
Krystie loved the idea of showing Sandy around Dublin and was delighted that the two girls liked each other. She yawned and stretched like a contented cat as Sharon bustled around the place getting ready for work.
‘I hate leaving you alone. What are you going to do all day?’ Sharon drained her mug of coffee and put it in the sink.
‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.’
‘Come with me,’ Sharon urged. ‘I’m working in Stillorgan today. I could drop you off in Blackrock on my way. You could do some window shopping and then we could meet up for lunch.’
‘Are there are any fashion shops in Blackrock?’
‘Of course.’ Sharon laughed. ‘You’ve been away too long.’
Krystie hopped to her feet. ‘Cool. I’ll go get dressed.’
An hour later Sharon dropped Krystie at the entrance to the shopping centre. ‘If you go downstairs, there’s an exit that will bring you out right in the centre of town. I’ll call you when I’m finished for the morning and we can decide where to eat.’
‘Great. Is there a bank around? I need to get some euros.’
‘Yeah, there’s one on the main street. Don’t go wild.’ Sharon laughed and, with a wave, she was gone.
‘The chance would be a fine thing,’ Krystie said aloud, thinking of her dwindling savings.
She went into the centre and was pleased to see there was a supermarket. She would come back later and get the ingredients to make Sharon some nice dinners – it was the least she could do. Krystie loved Sharon’s little house and the friendly community it was in. She had already met some of the neighbours, who were mainly retired, single or separated, and they seemed like a nice bunch.
‘We have the odd get-together,’ Sharon had told her, ‘though mainly in the summer when we get the barbies out.’
‘Any eligible men?’ Krystie had asked with a wink.
‘I’m not looking and I’m not interested,’ was the retort.
‘Ah, now, you know that it’s important to get back on the horse, Sharon.’
Her friend laughed. ‘Back in the saddle?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Nah, I think I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground for the time being.’
Krystie had noticed her eyes grow sad and given her a quick hug. Bloody Marty had a lot to answer for. She’d never understand men. She thought of Jacob and quickly dismissed him from her mind. Sharon was right: being part of a couple wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The most important thing on her agenda right now was finding work, preferably doing something she liked. If she was desperate, she could always stick up an ad in the local shops and do alterations from her ma’s house. The thought depressed her and she decided that it would be her very last resort.
She wandered through the shopping centre combing the boutiques to check out the style. The fashion in New York was very different from Ireland, but, then, New York was different from everywhere. She’d noticed already that, while the Irish dressed formally for office jobs, the only other time they really dressed up was for special occasions such as weddings. She seemed to be surrounded by people wearing tracksuits – a designer’s nightmare. She’d never understood the attraction. Even as a child she had been drawn to pretty colours and fabrics and hats. How she’d always loved her hats. She remembered a red beret she’d worn every day for months when she was about twelve, convinced it made her look French and cool. After all, everything French was cool!
Smiling at the memory, she went downstairs and out onto the main street. After she’d exchanged her dollars for euros, she rambled down the street, her eyes lighting up when she spotted a wedding boutique. She paused to look at the window display before going in. There were two dresses on mannequins, one a rather fussy piece with ruffles and flounces, the other a simple satin shift dress that was stunning in its simplicity, though it would take a woman with a great figure to carry it off. There were four beautifully ornate headpieces that a veil could be attached to but, in Krystie’s opinion, they would look even better without them.
She went into the shop and was immediately approached by a smiling lady who didn’t seem at all put off by her torn jeans, patchwork jacket and corduroy flat cap.
‘Can I help you?’
Krystie feigned embarrassment. ‘I’m jumping the gun a bit. We’ve only just got engaged and haven’t bought a ring yet, never mind set a date.’
‘It’s never too early to start looking,’ the woman laughed. ‘Have you any particular style in mind? It’s clear that you have your own look. I love your jacket. Do you mind me asking where you bought it?’
‘I made it,’ Krystie told her.
‘You’re pulling my leg.’
Krystie grinned. ‘Nope.’
‘Well, why on earth would you spend a fortune on a gown from a place like this when you could obviously do just as good a job yourself?’ the woman whispered.
Krystie blushed at the compliment. ‘Okay, I admit it, I was just looking for ideas.’
‘Great, then let’s get started. I’m Paula, by the way.’
They whiled away a couple of hours examining and discussing the gowns, and it wasn’t long before Krystie admitted that she wasn’t engaged but just couldn’t help coming in to look at the gowns. Paula wasn’t in the least bothered, but suggested she try on a few so that her boss wouldn’t get suspicious. The assistant was just helping her out of a very flamboyant and expensive dress when Krystie’s mobile rang.
She glanced at her watch and was stunned to see it was almost one o’clock. ‘That will be my friend. I’m supposed to be meeting her for lunch.’
‘Go and enjoy and come back any time, Krystie.’
‘You’ve been great, Paula, thanks a million.’
‘Not at all. I’ve enjoyed it.’
Krystie quickly dialled Sharon back and they arranged to meet in a pub just a few doors away. She was about to walk out of the door when her eye was caught again by the delicate headpieces. ‘Paula, where did you get these? I love them.’
‘Aren’t they beautiful? They’re from a shop just down the road.’
‘Oh, fantastic, I’ll call in after lunch.’
‘I’m afraid that—’
But Krystie didn’t hear her and was hurrying towards the pub where Sharon was waiting.
‘I’ve had a fantastic morning,’ she said once they were settled with th
eir soup and sandwiches. She was positively high after the experience. ‘I was talking to a shop assistant in a wedding boutique and I learned more than if I’d read a dozen Irish fashion magazines.’
‘Was she able to point you towards any jobs?’
Krystie stared at her. She was a right twit. She hadn’t even thought to ask. She’d been enjoying herself so much she’d forgotten that finding work was supposed to be her priority. ‘It never occurred to me to ask,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe I’ll go back and talk to Paula again after lunch. She was really nice and loved my jacket.’
‘It is fabulous. You turned several heads when you walked into this place, and it wasn’t just the guys,’ Sharon laughed. ‘I think you were right to come home, Krystie. New York’s a bloody big place and, no offence, but you were just another little nobody out of college. But it’s different here. Dublin’s a small town and everyone knows everyone.’
‘But I’ve no contacts in the industry here, either,’ Krystie pointed out.
‘I bet you do, only you don’t know it. You need to look up some of the people you were at college with. You’ve only just stepped off the plane, Krystie, and times are as tough here as in the US, so don’t expect a job to be just handed to you on a plate. You need to put in some time and effort. Have you any idea the number of hotels I had to walk into all smiley and charming before I got a break?’
‘You’re right, Sharon, you are so right,’ Krystie said glad of her friend’s good sense. She was happy that she hadn’t stayed at the house lazing around. Not only would she go back to the wedding boutique, but she’d check out that millinery too. If she was lucky, she might be able to wangle an interview. She was glad she’d taken the trouble to update her CV before she came home and had some nicely bound copies back at the house. And then there was Phyllis’s glowing reference, which would surely impress.
‘I’m always right. Are you happy enough to hang around here and wait for me, or do you want me to give you the keys and you can head home? I won’t be finished before six,’ Sharon warned.
First We Take Manhattan Page 7
