The Birthday Girls

by Pauline Lawless

  She did make one friend in her second week there, if you could call him that. Alan was also an actor, quite a famous one, and he was being treated for sex addiction. He had caused a major scandal and both his wife and his agent had given him an ultimatum, insisting he go for treatment or they would jump ship. He didn’t want to give up his philandering, he loved women too much, and only agreed to enter La Vista to get them off his back. Although ten years her junior he was instantly attracted to Angel.

  He pursued Angel relentlessly, but she was in such a dark place that she refused his advances. Eventually, he found a way into her bed. He got a friend to smuggle in a bottle of whisky and came to her room one night.

  “Go away,” she said, feeling maniacally depressed.

  “I have something for you,” he whispered through the crack in the door, showing her the whisky.

  Like a flash she let him in. Pouring a large one into her bathroom tumbler she downed it in one. It felt so good. The feel of the warm liquid making its way down to her stomach was like heaven. She smiled at Alan, who poured another for her. Ten minutes later they were in bed. It seemed like a good exchange to Angel – sex for whisky – that way they both got what they wanted.

  Angel covered it up well for about a week but when she refused to go for any more therapy, Dr Kirk guessed that she was drinking again. When she questioned her about it Angel at first denied it but eventually confessed that she’d been drinking for the past week. The director didn’t know where Angel was getting it from. It didn’t really matter. They could do nothing for her if she didn’t want to be helped.

  Dr Kirk gave her an ultimatum, either she stop drinking or leave.

  Angel left. She’d spent less than three weeks in the clinic. Alan left with her which told the director where she’d been getting the alcohol.

  Dr Kirk was upset about it. Two failures in the one week.

  They took a cab to Angel’s house and spent the day drinking and having sex until their party was cut short by the arrival of Alan’s wife. It hadn’t been difficult to locate him. Dr Kirk had shown the way. She dragged him out and took him home, terrified that word would get back to the media. It was the day before Christmas Eve and Angel was on her own again with just her whisky bottle for comfort.

  Chapter 26

  Donna was a bright ambitious young woman who had joined Mel’s company three years previously. Mel, recognising her talents, snapped her up and brought her to work in her office as her right-hand woman. Donna admired Mel greatly and modelled herself on her mentor, ambitious to become a senior partner one day, just like her boss. They had a great working relationship and Mel lauded the younger girl’s drive guessing that Donna would certainly succeed in her goal.

  Although they worked closely together, their relationship was strictly business and never ventured outside of the office.

  Donna, very receptive to her boss’s mood, knew instantly that something had happened to change Mel while in Florida. No longer at her desk before seven every morning nor staying on till nine or ten at night, Donna wondered what it could have been. She often came into Mel’s office to find her staring out the large glass window, gazing out over the buildings of Manhattan as if in a daydream. Could Mel have fallen in love? Donna doubted it as she knew Mel was like herself, a hard-bitten career woman who had no time for such fripperies as love. Still, there was a new softness to Mel which was unnerving.

  It revealed itself the night of the Christmas party. Mel was in high spirits and Donna was surprised to see her drinking champagne. She’d never drunk alcohol in previous years.

  “Well, another year done,” Mel declared, smiling at Donna as they sat together.

  “You and I are working tomorrow, aren’t we?” Donna asked. Most of the staff had finished for the holiday but Mel had asked Donna to come in to tie up some loose ends.

  “Yes, but we’ll be finished by noon. How would you like to come out for a Christmas lunch with me then?”

  Donna almost fell off her chair. Mel had never, ever, mixed business with pleasure before. Donna knew nothing about her boss’s life outside the office, nor did Mel know anything about hers.

  “That would be lovely,” Donna replied when she’d recovered from the shock.

  * * *

  The following day, Christmas Eve, they went for lunch in the Plaza. After they’d given their order to the maître d’, Mel ordered two glasses of champagne.

  “After all, we’re not driving, are we?” she laughed. “Tell me about yourself, Donna. Where do you live?”

  Surprised by this new friendly Mel, Donna told her that she lived in Queens with her large family, who were Italian.

  “I’d really like to have my own place as our house is always full of various relations, but Mama wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “They must be very proud of you.”

  “Well, yes, they are. I studied very hard and am the first one of my family to go to university,” Donna blushed. “There are eight of us children and Papa is a cook in a restaurant in Little Italy. He’s a great cook and so is Mama,” she stated proudly.

  “It must be great to be from a large family,” Mel said wistfully. “I only have one brother and he left home when I was fourteen. My parents were very strict, both teachers. I’ve had a lonely life.”

  Donna listened, feeling sorry for Mel who seemed to have everything and yet was lonely.

  As they were waiting for their starters to be served, Mel reached into her bag and took out a package.

  “I’d better give you this before I forget,” she said, handing the present to Donna.

  Surprised, Donna opened it to find a beautiful necklace of many-coloured stones. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, admiring the design and fingering the semi-precious stones. “I love it. Thank you so much.”

  “I’m glad. I saw it in Florida and the vibrant colours reminded me of you.”

  Donna was moved by the compliment from her idol. “Thank you, Mel. I’ll treasure it forever,” she smiled, putting the necklace on over her white business shirt.

  “You remind me of myself ten years ago,” Mel remarked as the waiter brought their starter and two glasses of chardonnay. “I was as ambitious as you are but I hope you don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I was so determined to be a success that I made my career my sole focus, thinking that was the most important thing in the world. Now I realise that I was wrong. People and love are much more important. It’s too late for me now but not for you. Please don’t sacrifice everything for your career, Donna, because it isn’t worth it.”

  The younger girl looked at Mel and saw the bleakness in her eyes. Unthinkingly, she reached out and took Mel’s hand. Mel didn’t pull away.

  “Your family are all in Ireland, aren’t they?” Donna asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And where will you spend Christmas Day?”

  “In my apartment, with a Chinese take-away. See what I mean? Your career doesn’t keep you company on Christmas Day.”

  Donna was moved by her admission and honesty. “In that case you’ll have to come and spend it with us. You’ll be very welcome.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly –”

  “Nonsense,” Donna replied adamantly, showing the determination that she often showed at work. “I insist! Nobody should be alone on Christmas Day.”

  “Thanks, but honestly I’ll be fine. I couldn’t possibly intrude.”

  “You won’t be intruding and my family would never forgive me if I took no for an answer. I better warn you though, they’re a noisy bunch and you might be sorry you agreed,” Donna laughed and Mel joined in.

  She felt it would be churlish to refuse, so she agreed to go.

  They had a wonderful time after that as Mel ordered two more glasses of wine with their main course.

  “You must let me share the check,” Donna said as the waiter brought it.

  “Are you mad? It’s on
expenses.”

  Both girls laughed as Mel decided they’d crown the meal with two expensive cognacs. It looked like it was going to be a good Christmas after all.

  * * *

  The hair salon was crazily busy on Christmas Eve and Brenda was run off her feet. There was a party atmosphere in the place and everyone was happy and looking forward to the days ahead. Carly, who since she was fourteen had helped out in the salon during the school holidays, was busy handing out mince pies and mulled wine to the clients.

  Luckily Carly was busy making more mulled wine in the back kitchen when Brenda heard the rough Dublin accent. “Is there no fuckin’ receptionist here? I’m in a hurry.”

  Brenda had left the desk for a minute to take an Avon order from a client but recognised the voice. She turned slowly and there, standing in front of her was her husband’s lover. She quickly took in the big blonde hair, heavy make-up, tits hanging out, the mini-skirt and the six-inch-heels and unconsciously wrinkled her nose in disgust. Glancing at the kitchen door furtively Brenda prayed that Carly would not come out and have to encounter her father’s mistress.

  Struggling to keep her composure, she spoke coolly. “Can I help you?”

  She saw the look of surprise on the slapper’s face and felt a moment of triumph.

  “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t expect to see you here,” the other girl said, flustered.

  Brenda knew she was looking good and it gave her confidence. She was not going to pretend to recognise this tramp. “What can I do for you, Miss . . .”

  “Kearns,” the slapper replied, looking put out. “I have an appointment with Jade.”

  Quaking inside, Brenda pretended to look at the diary although she couldn’t focus on it. Luckily, Jean had spotted Crystal and, dropping her scissors with a clatter, left her astonished client and flew to the reception desk.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  “I have an appointment with Jade,” the slapper replied, unnerved by the venom in Jean’s eyes.

  “Well, you’re not welcome here, not today, not ever.”

  “But . . .” the slapper started to protest.

  “Out!” Jean cried as everyone turned to look at this commotion.

  The slapper turned to Brenda and reaching over the desk so that her breasts practically plopped out onto it, hissed, “This is all your fault. I’m glad I stole your husband, you posh bitch! You and your blonde stuck-up daughters who think they’re so high and mighty!”

  Brenda stood transfixed. How had Bob ever got entangled with such a piece of shit? Was he out of his mind? Nervously, she looked around to make sure Carly had not seen or heard what was happening. Thank God she hadn’t.

  “Well, I never,” Jean said grinning. “Didn’t know I had a ‘posh’ sister.”

  She laughed and Brenda joined in, more with relief than anything else, as Crystal stormed out. They knew the slapper would never get an appointment anywhere else today.

  “Poor thing! Imagine having to spend Christmas Day with that mess of hair,” Jean said bitchily as they both returned to work.

  * * *

  Bob had rung twice, hoping to speak to the kids but each time it was Ryan who answered and after a few expletives banged the phone down on him. Dylan said he would have talked to his father but one look from Ryan and he backed down. Carly said she had no intention of meeting his tart either, so Bob was left without seeing any of his children over the Christmas.

  Brenda knew they were just shocked and being loyal to her and felt that with time they would come around. Well, Dylan and Carly anyway. She couldn’t be sure about Ryan. He was absolutely furious with Bob.

  * * *

  On Christmas morning Brenda made a big Irish breakfast as she’d always done. She knew the smell would eventually entice the lazy teenagers out of their beds. She remembered all the Christmases past when she and Bob were often wakened in the early hours of the morning as five excited children dashed downstairs to see what Santa had brought. They’d been so happy then. What had happened?

  This was the first Christmas that all seven of them would not be together. Even if Bob had been there, Alex and Megan would not. Such was life, things changed all the time. Megan had rung the night before and had taken the news of Bob’s leaving with equilibrium.

  “Frankly, Mum, you’ll be much better off without him.”

  Brenda wondered at her two eldest daughters’ take on life. They had old heads on young shoulders and she had no fears for them or their future. The boys were another story, not nearly as mature as the girls.

  One by one they came down to breakfast, suffering hangovers she suspected, as they had met up with their old school friends the night before. It was the same all over the country, Brenda guessed, as old school friends returned from colleges to their home towns and reunited.

  After breakfast they opened their presents and she was happy with the reception the clothes from the States received. With the money she was earning in the salon, she had bought them each a new iPhone. There were hoots and hollers of appreciation at these. Like all the younger generation they spent hours texting their friends every day.

  Alex Skyped them just then and Brenda held up her Christmas presents for her to see.

  “Oooh, Earl jeans, I love them!” Alex cried. “And a Jessica Simpson bag. Gosh, Mum, they’re gorgeous. Thanks a million.”

  “They’ll be waiting here for you when you come home – unless you’d like me to send them on.”

  “Good heavens, no. I’d have no use for them here. I’ll have them to look forward to on my next trip home,” Alex said happily.

  Brenda was delighted that she liked them. Alex then had a long chat with Carly, Ryan and Dylan as they exchanged news of what they’d been doing. Alex didn’t mention Bob and Brenda was glad. It would have spoiled the happy Christmassy atmosphere.

  When she’d rung off, the kids changed into their new gear and they all set off for Jean’s where they would spend the day. Another exchange of presents took place there before Roy, Jean’s husband, opened a bottle of champagne and got the festivities under way.

  They had a wonderful day and after a delicious turkey dinner, they played charades, which they did every year. Jean was pleased to see Brenda happy and smiling and having fun. Jean’s two kids were younger and adored their older cousins. From time to time a dark cloud passed over Brenda’s face and Jean knew that she was thinking of Bob. She was wondering where he was and whether he was happy.

  * * *

  Bob was anything but happy. Crystal had been giving him grief ever since she’d come home from the hair salon the day before.

  “How could you have stayed married to that posh bitch for all those years?” she’d ranted.

  He’d never considered Brenda posh, nor a bitch for that matter. He had accused her of trying to better herself but he could never accuse her of putting on airs and graces. He supposed, in comparison to her rough family, Crystal would consider his wife posh. Lord knows what she would think of Brenda’s wealthy friends. Posh didn’t go half far enough to describe Lexi, Mel and Angel.

  He was already beginning to realise that there were a lot of things he hadn’t known about Crystal before he’d moved in with her. She was incredibly messy and the small apartment was like a kip. She couldn’t cook for nuts and though he didn’t want to make comparisons between her and his wife it was hard not to. Brenda was a great housekeeper and very organised and their house had always been a haven to come home to. She was also a wonderful cook, something he missed badly. Coupled with that was the fact that Crystal wanted to party and go clubbing every night which might be fine for twenty-five-year-olds but not for old codgers like him in their forties. Besides which, he couldn’t afford the exotic drinks she favoured.

  While the sex was great, he was beginning to tire of her constant and frequent demands for it. The kinkier the better, was Crystal’s motto. He was forty-two years old, for God’s sake! After nights of being handcuffed to the bed and role-
playing he began to tire of it and he thought ruefully of Brenda’s accusation that Crystal was a tart. Maybe she hadn’t been too far off the mark. He wondered where she had learnt all this kinky stuff. It was worrying. He was starting to have regrets and beginning to think that he’d made a dreadful mistake. The old saying ‘If you want to know me, come and live with me’ ran through his mind frequently.

  He was also very upset that the kids wouldn’t speak to him. He knew they would despise Crystal anyway. On Christmas night, while all her loud family were drunk and fighting, he longed to be back with his own family, playing charades and having good, simple fun. He presumed they’d be in Jean’s as they alternated every year and her family had been with them the year before. Feeling sorry for himself he left and went for a walk and found himself walking down Jean’s road. The curtains were drawn but there was a window open and he could hear laughter from inside. He felt an overwhelming urge to walk in there but knew he wouldn’t be welcome. Dragging his heels he went back to Crystal’s parents’ house. She was so drunk, she hadn’t even missed him!

  * * *

  Lexi passed a lovely quiet day. She and Marvin slept in a little and then went for a swim before breakfast, a real Irish one with the remainder of the Denny’s sausages and Clonakilty pudding that Brenda had brought. Marvin opened a bottle of champagne and they had mimosas as Lexi cooked the breakfast. Then they went for a long walk on the beach.

  That afternoon they went for lunch to the Beachcomber restaurant which was crowded with families enjoying the festivities. The food was as wonderful as ever and Lexi said she couldn’t possibly have anything else but the Irish Christmas dinner of turkey and ham which she’d had every Christmas of her life. Marvin teased her about it but ordered turkey and ham too.