by Anita Notaro
“Are you sick?”
“Only of answering your questions.” He picked Jessie up and swung her round. “Let’s go torment Percy.”
“Dad, you’re cruel,” Jess admonished.
“Dad hates Percy,” Samantha told Ellie.
“I meant to ask yesterday, who is Percy?”
“The fattest, whingiest, scruffiest, most ill-tempered cat you’re ever likely to meet.” Jack made a face. “They once brought him to an audition for a cat food commercial but all the kids auditioning had convulsions when they saw him.”
“I love Percy. And Snowy.”
“The mongrel.” Jack mouthed to Ellie. He tousled Jessie’s hair and she ducked. “I know you do, darling, we nearly had to adopt him but thankfully Sarah grew out of her allergy. Let’s go, dinner’s at six thirty and Kate warned us not to be late for the fizz.”
Twenty-two
There were fairy lights flickering and candles winking and two patio heaters going full blast when they arrived. The girls were delighted and presented their cake as if it were the crown jewels.
“Hello hello, what’s this? A cake, good grief, I wouldn’t have put any of you three down as cooks, the only thing your father ever made for dinner is a phone call.”
“Nora really made it, but I mixed it all up.” Jess was hopping about on one foot and almost toppled over in her eagerness.
“Well done, my sweet.” He planted a big kiss on her head. “And what’s this—Happy Bill? Of course I’m happy, it’s my birthday and I can still feel my fingers.”
“I left out birthday.” Samantha turned beetroot.
“What? I never noticed.” He got down on one knee and whispered to the child. “You see, nobody ever asks me how I’m feeling round here. They all ignore me, mostly. So, I want you to promise me you’ll always put that on my birthday cake, every year, until I’m so old I have to stay in bed. Then, it won’t matter how I’m feeling really, I’ll be gaga.”
Sam had never heard of gaga but she was delighted and nodded enthusiastically.
“And you must be …” He held out his hand. “Actually, I’m not sure what to call you. Katie calls you Eleanora, the kids call you Nora and someone told me you call yourself Ellie.” He held out his hand to grasp her outstretched one and planted a big smacker on her cheek at the same time. “I always thought you were called Heidi for some odd reason.”
“Ellie or Nora will do nicely.” She beamed at him, he was so friendly, it was impossible not to respond. Besides, he looked like Father Christmas.
“Thank God, I’m afraid Eleanora makes you sound like you’re partial to the odd sugar lump as a bribe.”
“Bill, I warned you.” His wife was in like a shot. “Open the champagne and give Nora a glass before she makes a quick exit.”
He did and soon they were all clinking and toasting and slagging, even the kids were allowed a tiny drop and Jess was giggling cause the bubbles ran up her nose. The two men went off to crank up the barbie, clutching cold beers and talking about sheds in a rather worrying way.
“Don’t mind us,” Bill told Ellie. “A shed is to a man what a handbag is to a woman, without the dartboard and homemade beer, of course. Wouldn’t fit,” he explained. His logic left her trying to figure it out, fatal as far as dealing with Bill was concerned.
“So, how’s it going? I must say she’s not half as bad as I expected.” He glanced over at her again as if to make sure. “Quite pretty, actually, and not a stick insect, which I like.”
Jack watched as Ellie put an extra fleece on Jess and bent down to zip her up. “No, she’s fine.” He realized that she’d changed her clothes and let her hair down. “The kids adore her and I’m managing to get some work done, which is keeping my publishers very happy. All in all I’d say it was a good move, although never admit that to your wife.” He winked conspiratorially.
“Listen, you don’t need to warn me.” Bill grinned. “I’ve learned over the years. Anyway, you should see the pile of photos attached to the CVs on her desk. One of them makes Ann Widdecombe look like the Rose of Tralee. I’d say you’ve done very well out of this.”
“Actually, tonight is the best I’ve seen her looking. She normally wears a sort of uniform, at least I think that’s what it is. Makes her seem a bit strict, you know, like Anne Robinson.” He grinned at his brother-in-law. “Still, the house is clean and she’s a passable cook, although her chicken casserole tasted faintly of fish the other night.” He tried to think of something negative to say about her, because it seemed to be expected, a sort of man-to-man thing. “She cleaned my bedroom, though, which drove me nuts at the time. Am I odd, do you think? I really hate people invading my space.”
Bill understood perfectly. “Just thank your lucky stars you don’t live here. I was sitting on the loo the other night reading the FT when Sarah casually walked past me to get her hair brush. She was talking to her friend Lizzie on her mobile and didn’t even excuse herself. Now, there must be five bathrooms in this house but unless you bolt yourself in you can expect company at any moment. They’re worse than prison officers.” He shook his head. “Very disconcerting, I must say. They take after my wife, nothing is sacred, as you well know.”
“Well, I don’t know where they got me in our family, so. Although, now you mention it,” he thought back, “Katie was always popping her head round the door when I was in the shower. She usually claimed to be playing detectives and looking for clues.” He smiled at the memory. “Eventually, once I turned ten, I barricaded myself in with my comics. Maybe that’s where I get my paranoia from. Nothing was sacred then either.”
“Confiscated a few harmless magazines from me the other evening—very annoying.” Bill shook his head. “Last week she was going through my pockets.”
“Still looking for clues?” Jack laughed as Bill scratched his head.
“Claimed her new French knickers were missing, I ask you! Just because she caught me wearing her tights a few years ago.” He winked at Jack. “Yesterday, she was looking for her earrings in my briefcase. Why she couldn’t have just asked me, I’ll never know. Way too obvious for Kate though, she likes interfering, it’s what keeps her young.”
“What are you two grumbling about now?” his wife asked as she and Ellie carried plates out to a buffet table. “And are the steaks nearly ready?”
“Nothing, darling, Jack was just saying what an adorable child you were, a miniature Miss Marple. We’re just agreeing it’s one of the things we most like about you.” Both men grinned innocently.
“You look nice tonight.” Kate stroked her brother’s cheek lightly as they headed back indoors. “Those glasses suit you,” she called over her shoulder. “You look like Clark Kent.”
“Who’s he?” Bill asked.
“Not sure. I’ve heard the name somewhere.” Jack topped up their glasses with the remains of the beer cans. “As long as he’s alive and not gay I’m happy.”
“She does seem particularly attracted to queens, doesn’t she? I think it’s that her favorite uncle when she was a child was a very camp actor. You remember him, surely?” Bill asked.
“Ah, yes, Uncle George.” Jack smiled. “Katie adored him, followed him everywhere apparently. You’d know. Not that I’ve anything against gays, one of my best buddies is as bent as a boomerang … She loves that they take care of themselves, which is why I always worry that I’ve overdone it when she says I look well.”
“Don’t worry, old chap, she was saying the other night that she’s going to bring you shopping soon. Claims you’re wearing the same clothes day in, day out. I’d say she’s happy once you don’t smell.” Bill wrinkled his nose.
“That’s another bloody thing about women. Nora bleached some of my shirts and stuff the other day, then wanted to buy me new underwear. What is this preoccupation with doing things for us? I’ve been buying my own jocks and socks since I was twelve, yet most women I’ve met don’t think I’m capable of making my own bed. Nora keeps leaving clean sheets o
utside my door, as if trying to encourage me.”
“Kate was sniffing all my socks in the drawer yesterday,” Bill remarked without a trace of annoyance. “Said I was putting dirty ones back in. Better to just let them have their way. Much less stress.”
Eventually, they all put on another layer of clothes and sat down to steaks and salad and baked potatoes. The girls were finished in minutes and went indoors to watch a DVD. The conversation flowed and it was light and easy and fun, thanks to a gorgeous bottle of Rioja Jack had brought.
“So, Nora, what do you do when you’re not keeping these three on the straight and narrow?” Bill wanted to know as they tucked in. “Do your family live locally?”
“My mum and dad live in Terenure, but I have an apartment in Ringsend.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Kate knew they’d talked about her family at the interview, but she couldn’t remember.
“I have two older sisters, Orla has two children and lives in Portmarnock and Claire is single and works for a bank in London.”
“Any boyfriends we should know about?”
“Bill!” Jack and Kate got in together, both with mouths full. “Sorry, I guess that’s not politically correct or something,” he apologized.
“No, it’s OK. No boyfriend at the minute—come to think of it, it’s been a while. Actually,” drink had loosened Ellie’s tongue, “I was engaged a couple of years ago but it didn’t work out, so it sort of … came to a natural ending.”
The other three looked sober. Ellie had the distinct impression they were feeling sorry for her. “It’s fine, honestly, it was … basically … my decision. No spark,” she added for good measure and decided to change the subject. “But, I’ve got three great friends and we’re all single—well more or less—and having a ball.” Before she knew what she was doing, Ellie was telling them all about the club and their spectacularly unsuccessful attempts to lose weight.
“So, let me get this straight, you meet once a week to try and encourage each other and so far have ended up ordering takeaway and drinking copious amounts of alcohol?” Jack was intrigued. “How exactly does that make you slim?”
“It doesn’t.” Ellie grinned. “Of course, that’s never the plan. We have a weigh-in and usually have some exercise planned …”
“Like what?” Kate immediately wanted to join. It was a woman thing.
“Toni is great at yoga, or Maggie might suggest aerobics, or we might just put on some music and dance, well, jostle about really.” Ellie was conveniently forgetting that they’d got more exercise from opening bottles than they had from dancing so far, but it sounded impressive. “And we don’t always end up drunk eating Chinese,” she felt compelled to add, “we do occasionally share tips and things.” She couldn’t remember a single one. “Although if Pam had her way we’d be fat as fools.”
“Which one’s she again?”
“The one with the two boys.”
“Right, so who’s the healthiest, then?”
“Toni, I suppose, although Maggie is too. I’m not great and Pam is worse. Toni does cook sometimes, though, so we can be quite healthy the odd time.”
“What does she cook? I could do with a few less calories myself.” Bill patted his waist.
“Tofu, lentil soup and em …” Ellie was having to stretch her imagination at this point. “Oh, she had a great recipe for aduki beans one week.”
“What the hell are aduki beans?” Jack wrinkled his nose at the sound of them.
“No idea. We never got to try them. Maggie was depressed so we had spiceburgers and batter sausages and things instead.”
“And what about these tips you mentioned?” Kate was all ears.
Ellie had to think fast. “Oh, Toni’s a genius. All stuff about chewing your food properly—”
“Until it’s liquid,” Jack chipped in.
“Please, too much information.” Bill swallowed a whole baby potato in fear of what was coming.
“Listen, you two have no idea what this woman has done to me.” Jack was warming to this. “She even has me inspecting my … what did you call it? Oh yes—”
“Stop right there,” Kate pushed her plate away but Bill was hooked.
“Go on, Nora, you can tell us.”
“Well, if you’ve finished eating …” She glanced around the table and then wondered if she’d regret this in the morning.
“We have now.” Jack took the four plates and put them on the buffet table.
“Actually, on second thoughts no. It’s not an after-dinner story.”
“Spoilsport.” Bill wanted some fun.
“Trust me, mate, you don’t want to know,” Jack offered.
“I agree, I think we should discuss this between ourselves, Nora.” Kate’s face was a picture. “Anyone for some dessert?”
“Nora, you and I must have a chat sometime, you’re a very interesting young lady.” Bill refilled their glasses and gathered up their dishes.
“Sorry.” Ellie realized she’d gone too far. “I’ll help you clear up.” She grabbed some plates and headed for the kitchen.
“Happy now?” Jack laughed at his sister’s face. “You know how paranoid I am about my privacy and there is nothing sacred as far as Nora is concerned. Give it another month and she’ll be watching me have colonic irrigation.”
“I’d love to try that, it’s supposed to—”
“Enough, woman, we men need some element of mystery about the female sex.” Bill returned and slapped his wife’s bottom and turned to Jack. “I had no idea about all this, dear boy. It’s quite fascinating the things women talk about amongst themselves.”
“Oh and your tongue tells you lots, too, according to a new book just out.” Ellie was back. “It’s too dark now but I could check all of yours in daylight sometime, after I’ve read up on what we’re supposed to be looking for.”
“I love a good tonguing.” Bill’s smile was reminiscent of Tommy Cooper.
“I can hardly wait.” Jack winked at his sister. “Roll on Monday morning.”
Twenty-three
Toni was feeling a bit tipsy, sitting in the Tea Rooms in the Clarence Hotel, quaffing bubbly with her married date and nibbling at the most fabulous wild mushroom risotto. The place was buzzing, but then it always was, mostly with visitors hoping to meet Bono or some of the other members of U2, who’d been involved in the purchase of the hotel. A couple of B-list celebrities were at the next table, and some members of the cast of EastEnders had been at the bar earlier.
“So, what made you change your mind?”
“I hadn’t had a decent meal all week.”
“It’s not doing your figure any harm.” Gordon looked at her with pleasure. “You are one gorgeous woman.”
“Are you always so forward?”
“What’s wrong with that? I meant it as a compliment. You must be well used to men admiring you.”
She didn’t tell him he was ogling. “So, what about your life, now that you know all about mine?”
“Businessman, travel a lot, too much on, stressed out, not enough hours in the day. You know the story I’m sure.”
“Children?”
“Two. Boy ten and girl eight. One cat named Tigger.”
“Wife?”
“You know that too.”
“What does she do?”
“Runs the home, plays tennis, ferries the kids around.”
“Where is she tonight?”
“Out at some charity do, I expect.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be with her?”
“We don’t live in each other’s pockets. Besides, those sort of things are boring. I’d much rather be here.” He was cool, she’d give him that.
“Dessert?” He signaled a waiter. “Or would you rather have brandy and coffee somewhere quieter?”
“I’d love a black coffee, actually.” He ordered a pot and excused himself. She realized the champagne was going to her head and felt she might need to stay sober if she was t
o keep up with him.
Much later, they headed back to his car where the driver was waiting patiently. “Would you like a nightcap? I have an apartment near here.”
“Why not?” Toni was dying to see his bachelor pad. They didn’t have far to go. It was overlooking Leeson Street Bridge, two minutes from Grafton Street. They pulled into a private, electronically controlled garage away from the rest of the parking. The lights went on inside as soon as the door started to open. It was very plush for a car port, Toni thought. They went directly to his apartment in a lift located inside the garage, ensuring he didn’t have to meet any of the other residents.
When they got into the place she had to admit she was impressed.
“The view is amazing.” She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this where you bring all the girls?”
“I hardly use it, to tell you the truth.” He pulled open the curtains via a remote control, and the canal and practically the whole of the city unveiled itself. “I have a smaller place in my office building. I crash there quite often. It’s easier to get to work in the morning.” He smiled as he put on some music and poured them two brandies. “No traffic.”
They chatted and he asked her about herself, which was unusual. Most men never bothered. “You’re not a typical nurse,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
“Those nails, for a start. Much too perfect.” He picked up her hand and held it, stroking her arm and making her shiver.
Just when she was about to take it away, he placed her hand gently back on her lap. “You’re also much too … exotic. I can’t see you being happy looking after old people.”
“I always wanted to be a nurse, actually. I had enough ‘exotic’ during my childhood to last me a lifetime. My father was an ambassador and I was always paraded round at posh parties. I’d lived in ten different countries by the time I was seventeen and knew hotels better than any of our homes.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“It was lonely, actually. I was an only child. I could do anything socially but couldn’t play snakes and ladders or complete a Jigsaw.”