The Fight for Dolores

by Catherine E Chapman

  “I’ve got some cold cuts and a bottle of chilled Champagne–” Callum explained as he opened its lid, once inside.

  ‘And you think that makes it alright to intrude upon my privacy, do you?’ Maggie thought but, remarkably, had the self-restraint to avoid actually saying.

  “It’s really nice to see you, by the way,” Callum said, unperturbed.

  “You’re irrepressible, Mr McCoy,” Maggie replied.

  But Maggie’s annoyance soon gave way to her realisation that she was tired, a little hungry and, moreover, hadn’t yet properly celebrated Christmas with a decent drink. Her visit home had been overshadowed by Paula’s bad news. Maggie decided to overlook Callum’s impertinence and be gracious in the face of his offer of Champagne.

  Within ten minutes, Maggie was sitting on the rug in front of the wood-burner that Callum had insisted upon lighting for her, with her neighbour now preparing a picnic of leftovers in her small kitchenette. Maggie smiled wryly to herself as she gazed into the kindling flames, considering how ironic it was that, in admitting defeat to Callum, she’d ended up being served upon by him, hand and foot.

  “Your Champagne,” he said, when he came back into the small lounge. After handing a glass to Maggie, he set down his own before returning to the kitchen to fetch the food.

  “That looks delicious,” Maggie couldn’t help but observe upon sight of the nibbles that Callum reappeared with. She detected salmon and what was quite possibly lobster amongst the items that Callum proffered.

  “Well, you know, we only have the best at West Lough Lodge,” he replied.

  It occurred to Maggie that she really shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking that any of this had been a good idea but, in truth, she was so glad to be at home, relaxing, after what had been a rather rushed day at the office, that she decided to simply pick up her glass of bubbly and join in with the toast he was now proposing.

  “To us,” Callum said, looking meaningfully into Maggie’s eyes.

  Maggie didn’t echo his words and she dodged his gaze, but she quite happily clinked her Champagne flute with his and, once she’d taken a sip of the ice-cold, sparkling wine, said, “That’s lovely, Callum.”

  They settled down on the hearth and began to enjoy the buffet. Strangely, Maggie discovered that conversation was quite easily found. It seemed that Callum’s impending Christmas was likely to be, whilst undoubtedly more glamorous than her own, similarly peppered with family tensions.

  Inevitably, Maggie began to tell Callum about Paula’s redundancy. “It’s just going to be so hard for her to find another job round here,” she commented. “There are so few of them going in a small town like West Lough, these days.”

  “What is it Paula does?” he asked.

  “Secretarial work – she’s a fantastic secretary,” Maggie said, knowing the statement to be true.

  Callum looked thoughtful. “You know, if she were willing to relocate to Dublin, McCoy Enterprises are always in need of reliable temping staff…”

  Two hours later, Maggie looked down at the empty plates and the empty bottle. “This has been nice but you really must go now, Callum,” she said firmly. She’d been thinking for a while that they needed to bring an end to it but he’d made no move to leave.

  Only when he went did Maggie wonder how he’d get back to the Lodge but, within minutes of his departure, she heard the unmistakeable sound of an outboard motor being started up in the direction of the Lough.

  “Unbelievable!” she said to herself.

  * * *

  On Christmas Day, Maggie arrived at her parents’ house at noon, to find her maternal grandparents and her subdued sister already involved in the festivities.

  Despite Maggie’s disclosure of Callum’s job offer early in proceedings, Paula steadfastly maintained that she didn’t want to talk about work and proceeded to drown her sorrows by drinking too much red wine with her roast dinner.

  “Top up?” she said to Maggie, lunging across the table with the bottle, but Maggie flatly refused more wine.

  Linda was infuriated that Maggie insisted she was going to drive home to Dolores in the evening. “I just can’t bear the thought of you going back to that freezing little shack,” she complained. “At least let Paula come and stay with you tonight–”

  “There’s no way I’m staying the night in that hovel!” Paula exclaimed.

  “And there’s no need for her to,” Maggie seconded. Despite her best efforts to be sympathetic towards her sister, she was angry with Paula on account of her continued self-pity in the face of what was undeniably an exciting opportunity being handed to her on a plate.

  “Did you say you had Callum’s business card?” Paddy asked Maggie, while Linda was out in the kitchen dishing up pudding.

  “Yes,” Maggie replied.

  “Well, make sure you leave it with me. Sure, your sister might come round to the idea yet–”

  “I am here, Daddy!” Paula exclaimed like a grumpy teenager.

  Maggie wanted to laugh but knew that would be the worst response.

  “I don’t suppose you asked Callum what he’ll be up to over Christmas,” Paula resumed menacingly, directing the question at Maggie.

  “He said he has family staying at the Lodge, visiting from the States.”

  “He must think a lot of you to have popped over yesterday, then,” Maggie’s Grandma observed knowingly.

  In response, Maggie couldn’t help but smile.

  “He can’t think much of his girlfriend, though,” Paula said sarcastically, taking another swig of wine.

  “Would you go easy on that stuff, Paula,” Patrick complained. “It’s not Spanish plonk – your mother bought it especially for today.”

  Paula raised her eyebrows, indifferent.

  Maggie stared down at the table.

  “I don’t suppose he mentioned his fiancée to you, then?” Paula asked her. Without waiting for a response, she continued, “She’s a model, apparently–”

  “Who’s that?” Linda, returning to the room and setting down dessert bowls in front of her parents, asked.

  “Callum McCoy’s American girlfriend, who’s staying with him at the Lodge over Christmas,” Paula responded helpfully.

  “Sure, I thought I’d heard he was single,” Linda remarked lightly.

  “Well, he’s not,” Paula insisted, looking into her sister’s eyes as she said it.

  “Must we talk about McCoy, today of all days?” Maggie said, although, in truth, she’d been quite enjoying talking about him until the topic of his girlfriend had been brought up.

  “Sounds like the green-eyed monster to me,” Paula goaded, before finally being silenced by her father.

  Chapter 4

  “Callum!” Carmel exclaimed animatedly as the heir to the McCoy fortune stepped through the door of Billy’s humble premises.

  Maggie took the opportunity to bury her head in the pile of paperwork in front of her and left Carmel to it. Within moments, however, Callum was telling her, “Actually it’s Maggie I need to see.”

  “Oh God!” Maggie murmured to herself.

  He walked over to her desk, asking “Can I have a word? It’s about Dolores.”

  “Come into Billy’s office,” Maggie directed hastily. Billy was out on a viewing and she didn’t want Carmel overhearing their conversation.

  Once they were in the office and Maggie had shut the door, Callum recommenced, “Are you really sure you want to sell the cabin, Magdalena?”

  “Of course,” she replied, irritated that he was questioning her knowledge of her own mind – this was, after all, what he had wanted all along. “Regretting having offered me so much for it now?” she said smartly.

  He shook his head earnestly, saying, “Not at all. I was just surprised when the lawyers got in touch. I’d forgotten about that offer, to be honest; I’d reached the conclusion that you’d never part with Dolores–”

  “Well,” Maggie began more calmly, “what with Paula off to Du
blin, I realised that selling Dolores to you would give us both a fresh start – I’ve an eye on a flat down there–”

  “You’re moving to Dublin too?” he asked, with what Maggie had to describe as a hint of alarm.

  “Ssshhh,” she said, placing her finger on her lips. She had yet to tell Billy and Carmel of her plans.

  Callum was nodding his head. “I understand,” he said in a whisper.

  “Dublin’ll be a fresh start for both me and Paula.” Maggie found it hard to hold Callum’s gaze as she explained; he looked at her so intensely.

  “So long as you’re sure,” he said.

  “Yes, I am,” Maggie replied.

  * * *

  Before Maggie knew it, she and Paula were installed in a swish Georgian flat in the city, with Maggie still having a comfortable sum from the sale of Dolores in her bank account. Paula began work at McCoy’s headquarters and swiftly settled into her new role. Maggie, unable to find a suitable estate agency job immediately, began work as an office temp.

  Maggie found her work rather boring and missed her old job – although she didn’t admit these truths to anyone. Nonetheless, she was glad she and Paula had moved to Dublin: the more she’d thought about it, after what had happened at Christmas, it had become impossible to stay at home and to stay in Dolores, with Callum on her doorstep.

  Maggie was aware that Callum made occasional appearances in McCoy’s HQ, from Paula’s reports. Any mention of him gave her a sense of anxiety that she was quick to suppress. In the end, losing Dolores hadn’t seemed to matter; it was the fact that she couldn’t have Callum that left her feeling bereft. But she couldn’t have him – and that was that.

  On the occasion of Paula’s thirtieth birthday, the girls went out to celebrate with a group of Paula’s work colleagues. They were due to visit home at the weekend but Paula was eager to mark her birthday itself, mid-week, with a meal in her favourite Chinese restaurant.

  When the sisters arrived at the restaurant together at eight in the evening, they discovered that Paula’s colleagues were already there. About a dozen of them, mostly young women, were seated around a long, rectangular table. Maggie surveyed the group, thinking that she knew nobody and so was in for a night of hard work making conversation with other people who were already well-acquainted and, by the looks of things, well-oiled, when she suddenly realised that somebody was trying to get her attention.

  Callum sat at one end of the table, with a single space available to his right. The only other available space was at the opposite end of the table. Maggie immediately perceived a dilemma. She tried to ignore Callum’s call, looking away from him, in order that Paula could choose where to sit.

  But Paula’s friends at the head of the table were imploring her –very vocally– to sit with them. “You don’t mind sitting with Callum, do you?” Paula asked Maggie, in a tone that left Maggie in no doubt that her sister would rather have sat with the boss herself.

  “Am I glad to see you!” Callum said in hushed tones as Maggie took her seat beside him.

  “Serves you right for fraternising with your employees,” she replied mercilessly.

  “My father’s employees,” he corrected, adding, “Honestly, I had no idea women could drink like they do! And, my, how they talk!”

  “This is Ireland!” Maggie replied incredulously. “Haven’t you heard of ‘the craic’?” She was pleased to see Callum laughing and felt satisfied that her presence was helping him relax. She had to admit that she was heartily glad he was here too.

  The evening progressed, with food soon arriving and the largely female group enjoying themselves thoroughly. Callum and Maggie were left very much to themselves at the end of the table, an arrangement with which they were both more than happy.

  “How do you come to be here?” Maggie asked Callum, over crispy seaweed and prawn crackers.

  “Your sister invited me along. I’ve been in the office this week–”

  “She didn’t mention it,” Maggie thought out loud. The chilled white wine she was drinking was going straight to her head – she reflected that she really should have eaten something before coming out. “Do you come to Dublin often?” she asked.

  “Now and then. For the most part, I work from home.”

  “And how is life at the Lodge?”

  “Ah,” Callum replied, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve moved out, actually.” He detected a hint of anxiety in Maggie’s expression and felt gratified that she was concerned. “I’m living in Dolores now.”

  “You’re living in Dolores!”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. You lived there,” he said playfully, thoroughly enjoying the intrigue his revelation had caused. Maggie was looking at him aghast. “OK,” he began, “I’ve had the place fixed up – extended: I knocked down the other cabins–”

  “Ah,” Maggie said, throwing back her head. “You’ve turned it into a palatial residence – I knew it!”

  “No,” he corrected. “The work’s been very sympathetic. I’ve tried to keep the essence of the cabin intact.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow dubiously.

  Callum lifted his hands in the air, in a protest of his innocence. “Look, if you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to come and see it for yourself.”

  “Well, Paula and I are off home this weekend but I imagine you’ll still be here…”

  But he wasn’t. Callum informed Maggie that he would be back in Dolores on Saturday and she was welcome to drop by anytime. Maggie found herself struggling to suppress a smile at his open invitation. She really needed to stop talking, drink less and eat more – her head was spinning. “So what’s happening with the Lodge?” she asked.

  “It’s on the market.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded as he surveyed the platter of seafood that had just appeared in front of them. “Your friend, Carmel, is opening the Lodge up for viewings all weekend so I have to make myself scarce.” He observed Maggie’s furrowed brow – this just got better.

  “Why are you selling it?” Maggie asked.

  “Well,” Callum replied casually, “since I seem to be a confirmed bachelor, rattling around in that great old place feels increasingly ridiculous. I find I’m much happier in Dolores.”

  “How do you manage without a butler?” Maggie asked sarcastically but she was, in truth, preoccupied with his use of the phrase ‘bachelor.’

  “Ha, ha,” he replied. “I only ever had staff at the Lodge because the place was so big; I needed them to keep it in order.” He noticed that Maggie was now smiling at him very sincerely. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he looked down at the vast plate in front of him and said, “I hope you like king prawns, Magdalena; I’m never going to eat all this myself.”

  * * *

  “So let’s get this straight, Paula,” Maggie, sitting on the couch, said to her sister, who lay, the worse for wear, on the sitting room floor of their flat. “When you told me at Christmas that Callum’s American girlfriend was staying at the Lodge with him, it was a complete lie.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t put it that strongly,” Paula protested.

  “But the girlfriend didn’t exist–”

  “He did have a girlfriend. I read that in the newspaper article they printed about him when he first arrived in West Lough.”

  “He may have had a girlfriend then–”

  “Actually, even then she was an ex-girlfriend,” Paula admitted. “But she was a model!”

  Maggie raised her eyes to the heavens and examined the elaborate plasterwork around the light-fitting; such details were what had attracted her to this flat. “Why did you lie to me?” she asked. She wasn’t even angry with Paula – just sad that so much time had been wasted.

  “It was when you said you’d spent Christmas Eve with him–”

  “I spent Christmas Eve securing you a new job!” Maggie pointed out.

  “But you were with Callum,” Paula explained. “While I was being chatted up by some loser in a bar in town, yo
u were sharing lobster with Callum McCoy.”

  Maggie tutted and rolled her eyes.

  “He really likes you,” Paula continued. “Just watching him with you tonight, it’s obvious that he’s smitten–”

  “I don’t know about ‘smitten’–”

  “Oh, he is, Maggie. It doesn’t matter how many hours I spend honing my body in the gym, he’s only got eyes for you, Sis.”

  Maggie couldn’t help but smile at her infuriating sister, despite the trouble she had caused.

  “He must just like dumpy girls,” Paula concluded and was swiftly hit by a flying scatter cushion.

  * * *

  On Saturday evening, back home with her parents, Maggie managed to get out of going along to Paula’s birthday meal at a local hotel, by claiming she had a headache. “I’ll just take myself off to bed,” she told Linda, adding, “I’ll feel better once I’ve slept.”

  But as soon as her parents and sister had gone, she busied herself in getting ready to head off to Dolores. She wore only jeans, however, as she didn’t want Callum to think she’d been making an effort especially for him. Leaving a note on the table that said, ‘Felt better. Nipped out to see a friend,’ Maggie first drove to the supermarket to pick up a few things and then headed on to Dolores.

  As she turned off the main road, Maggie found that the rough track through the woods that led to the chalets had been tarmacked. Moments later, the vision that beheld her in the place where the ramshackle summer house had stood was of a modern, single-storey dwelling, sprawling across the sites of the former neighbouring cabins. But, strangely, Maggie didn’t feel resentment of what Callum had done – she was just desperate to see him.

  She parked her car in front of the house, took her bags from the boot, walked up to the front door and rang the bell. As she waited, experiencing the momentary fear that he might be out –she hadn’t warned him she was coming and she couldn’t see a car– Maggie began to feel anxious. She was worried that he wouldn’t be at home and nervous that he would.

  The door opened. “Hey, Maggie!” Callum announced warmly.