The Fight for Dolores

by Catherine E Chapman

  “I brought a picnic,” she said, seeing Callum survey her carrier bags.

  “How thoughtful of you,” he said, ushering her in and helping her with the bags.

  Inside, Maggie was amazed by the modern, chic interior of the house. “This is great,” she said enthusiastically. She dropped her bags and gravitated towards the vast, full-length window that ran right along the open-plan living room, affording a view of the nearby shore of the Lough, with the Lodge in the distance across the water. “Wow!” she said. This was the view she’d loved so much and, now, he’d brought it into the house itself.

  “So, you’re not angry with me?” Callum asked tentatively.

  “No,” Maggie replied and then she laughed at the thought that he’d expected her to be annoyed. Turning to look at him, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long – his smile was so kind; it must have been obvious to him that she was longing to kiss him. “I hope you’re hungry,” Maggie said, looking down at the bags on the floor.

  “Oh, I’m always hungry,” he replied jovially.

  They took the shopping through to the kitchen, where Maggie decanted the food onto plates.

  “This is a feast!” Callum observed.

  “No lobster, I’m afraid,” Maggie admitted.

  She’d brought a pre-chilled bottle of good-quality sparkling wine too – Champagne, she felt, would have been excessive and would have appeared over-confident; they didn’t really have anything to celebrate yet.

  They ate, as they had done at Christmas, picnicking on the hearth. When Callum drew attention to the similarity between the two occasions, Maggie laughed wryly, saying, “I wouldn’t recognise this place now.”

  “I’ve tried to keep the essence of Dolores intact,” Callum stressed, seeming rather wounded by her flippant comment.

  He’d kept the name, Maggie thought.

  “The fire is in the exact same spot where your old wood-burner stood.”

  “You just knocked down the rest of the house and rebuilt it around it,” Maggie added. But she relented when she saw the look on his face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve already told you, it’s fine – I love what you’ve done.”

  “Really?” Callum asked, and Maggie smiled to see his obvious desire for her good opinion.

  “Yes, take it from a pro, this has been one successful makeover.”

  “But do you like it?” he pursued earnestly.

  “Callum, believe me, only in my wildest dreams could I imagine living in a place like this.”

  He was looking at her intently. Maggie had to look away. “Come on, let’s eat,” she ordered, annoyed with herself for shying away from the real issue but unable, it appeared, to broach it.

  * * *

  The evening passed pleasantly. They chatted about Callum’s family and his role in the business, and about Maggie’s new life in Dublin. But Maggie’s determination to get their relationship onto the romantic footing that she knew Callum had originally intended seemed to have waned as soon as she’d arrived at Dolores. The truth was probably that it had been easier to flirt with him when she’d been angry with him. He’d seemed to have liked that. Maybe he wasn’t interested in her when she was in a good mood, or maybe he wasn’t interested now that he knew she was?

  When Maggie said she’d best get going, Callum expressed a desire to take her for a meal in Dublin. “I never did get to take you out in West Lough,” he said.

  Maggie blushed to recall their conflict: her belief that he’d been arrogant, which had, in truth, been little more than her own arrogance.

  “It’d be lovely to go to dinner in Dublin,” she replied.

  “I know a great place, that overlooks the Liffey – does classic French cuisine,” he said.

  “Sounds wonderful,” Maggie replied. And then she offered him her mobile number, which he accepted, keying it into his own phone.

  While he was doing that, Maggie remembered that she’d meant to ask him about the Lodge. “And you’re sure about selling the big house?” she said, trying to make the enquiry sound casual.

  “Like I told you,” he returned, putting his phone to one side, “it’s crazy to have just me rattling around the great, old place.”

  “Paula said she thought you had a girlfriend,” Maggie continued, feeling the colour rising to her cheeks as she uttered the contrived words.

  “I had a girlfriend in the States,” he confirmed. “But there really wasn’t much to it – once we got to know one another, we realised we had next to nothing in common.”

  “She was a model?” Maggie pursued.

  “You seem to know all the details already,” he replied, smiling amusedly.

  “It’s none of my business,” Maggie said hastily, and she made as if to rise from the floor to go.

  “No, wait,” Callum said, grasping her arm to prevent her from getting up. “It’s fine to talk about it.”

  Maggie sat back down.

  “One of the things that made it difficult was that, being a model, she didn’t eat much – she didn’t really enjoy food. And, as you’ll probably have realised, I love food!”

  Maggie laughed at him and began to feel more relaxed.

  “It’s one of the things I like about you,” Callum offered. “I like that you don’t worry about your figure.”

  “Paula says I’m dumpy,” Maggie blurted involuntarily.

  Now Callum was laughing. “Curvaceous is how I’d describe you,” he said. “And, between you and me, I suspect Paula may be envious.”

  Maggie was blushing again but she liked what she heard. Callum had leant in towards her.

  “I really must go,” she said, wondering how she was going to explain her late night to Paula and their parents.

  “Might I have just one kiss before you leave?” Callum asked, his face already irresistibly close to Maggie’s.

  She bent her head forward and felt her lips meet his. It seemed to Maggie, at that instant, that they shared the most perfect kiss imaginable. Callum didn’t seem to be demanding anything of her but he offered himself without limits. When they withdrew from one another, Callum said, “I’ll be in touch next week.”

  Maggie nodded, unable to speak and unable, she suspected, to wait that long.

  * * *

  That night, in bed, Maggie couldn’t sleep. She thought about Callum and the kiss, and the memory of it was both comforting and thrilling. But what disturbed her was the idea that he might be on the brink of selling the Lodge – something told her he shouldn’t do it.

  In the morning Maggie exasperated Linda by announcing that she was off out again. She insisted she’d be home in time for lunch, before she and Paula set off back to Dublin.

  She drove in the direction of Dolores but bypassed the summer house and headed, instead, for the Lodge. As she’d feared, several flashy cars were already pulled up on the drive outside the great house.

  Bursting into the grand entrance hall, Maggie spied an overwhelmed Carmel, who was quite obviously struggling to juggle the various interested parties. “Can I help?” Maggie asked.

  Carmel looked amazed to see her old colleague.

  “If you’d like me to show anybody around, you know I have an intimate knowledge of the building.” Maggie smiled winningly at her friend.

  Within moments, Maggie had whisked off the most serious-looking of the potential buyers, and directed them to an upstairs bathroom. She couldn’t be certain that they were the real threat but she was reckoning that, even if they weren’t, if she did her job well, the rumours would filter out quickly enough.

  Maggie ushered the mature couple into the palatial en suite bathroom, saying, “And, of course, one of the most endearing features of West Lough Lodge is its Victorian plumbing system. The current owner has made a lot of cosmetic changes to the house but, I’m happy to say, for those of us who appreciate the authenticity of an ancient stately home such as this, one of the many issues he has failed to address is the water hammer, which can be heard to ricochet around the
house every time somebody runs a bath…”

  Chapter 5

  On Wednesday evening of the following week, Maggie walked into the French restaurant that overlooked the river and scanned the room for Callum. Sure enough, he was sitting at a secluded table for two, beside a window, looking out at the water. Maggie headed over to him, saying, “Hi,” to attract his attention.

  Callum looked at her and smiled, before rising to his feet and stepping out from behind the table to kiss her. “You look lovely,” he said.

  Maggie was flattered. She had dressed up for the occasion in a silky purple dress that she loved to wear. “You’ve scrubbed up pretty well yourself,” she replied. The truth was, he looked as gorgeous as ever, wearing an expensive suit, but with no tie and his shirt casually unbuttoned at the neck.

  They sat back down and Callum asked Maggie how her week had been. A waitress came and gave them menus. She asked if they wanted drinks but Callum said they would choose something from the wine list. When she’d gone, Maggie asked Callum about his week.

  “It’s been interesting,” he said, rather ominously.

  “Oh?” Maggie responded.

  “Carmel was almost certain that she’d sold the Lodge at the weekend but then the buyers pulled out with concerns about the structural soundness of the building.”

  Maggie focussed her attention on the menu and dearly wished she’d gone with her instinct to ask the waitress for a G and T. “That’s a shame,” she said, without making eye contact with Callum.

  “Your name was somewhat mentioned in connection with the incident,” Callum continued.

  “Really?” Maggie asked innocently.

  “Hmm, Carmel told me you’d ‘helped out’ with the viewings on Sunday. She said she couldn’t imagine what you might have said to put a spanner in the works. But, I, of course, know only too well–”

  Fearing he was angry, Maggie began, “I’m sorry. I just don’t think you should lose the Lodge. I don’t think you really want to–”

  “Despite the fact that I’ve expressly told you I do–”

  Suddenly the waitress was beside them again, asking if they’d chosen. Callum ordered a steak, whilst Maggie went for fish. When asked about wine, Callum chose a French Cabernet Sauvignon and then looked for Maggie’s approval before confirming the order. She nodded agreement, still uncertain whether he was genuinely annoyed with her over her intervention in the sale of the Lodge.

  When they were left alone, Maggie was quick to leap in with, “I just thought that you were being very short-sighted about it.”

  “Meaning?” he asked.

  “Well, all that stuff about being a bachelor seems very premature.”

  He was staring at her, waiting for more.

  “There might be someone on the horizon that you’re not aware of yet,” Maggie suggested tenuously.

  “Do you have someone in mind?” he asked, and it was only at this point that Maggie detected the hint of a smile in his expression.

  But she really wished she had a drink in her hand. It would make it so much easier to say it – and he obviously wasn’t going to help her. “It’s just,” she began, “that if you still wanted us to ‘date’” –she used the American expression awkwardly– “I think I’d actually quite like to do that now. I mean, if you still want to.” She stopped there, feeling she’d already exposed herself too much and fearing rejection.

  “Well, in essence, this is a date,” Callum replied, rather frustratingly.

  “I suppose what I’m saying,” Maggie found herself continuing, “is that I don’t object to you any more. In fact, I rather like you.”

  “Good,” Callum said graciously, extending his arm across the table and taking hold of Maggie’s hand. “As you know, I’ve always been fond of you.”

  Maggie pondered the word ‘fond’ as the waitress set down bread and olives in front of them and poured their wine.

  When she’d gone, Callum raised his glass and proposed a toast to new beginnings.

  “New beginnings,” Maggie echoed as she clinked her glass with his.

  * * *

  The following morning, Maggie was struggling to concentrate at work. Thankfully, the task she was undertaking was pretty mindless because her thoughts kept on wandering back to last night with Callum.

  Once she’d been convinced that he wasn’t holding a grudge against her on account of her jeopardising the sale of the Lodge, Maggie had begun to really enjoy his company. The meal had been delicious and he had been charming and attentive throughout.

  When it had been time to leave, Callum had hinted that, if she wanted to, Maggie was welcome to go back to his hotel with him. In response, Maggie had quite clearly declined the offer, pointing out that she had to be up for work in the morning and that she felt it was too early in their relationship for that.

  And then she’d felt guilty about rejecting him – and had worried that he hadn’t really been suggesting that they do that after all, and that he would have thought her presumptuous.

  As the morning wore on, Maggie became increasingly concerned that she’d heard nothing from Callum. By the evening, when Maggie went back to the flat, she was feeling utterly despondent, having convinced herself that Callum had been scared off by her or had simply lost interest. To compound matters, Paula arrived home from the gym in a thoroughly good mood.

  “You’ll never guess what, Sis,” she announced.

  “What?” Maggie replied flatly.

  “Callum called me into his office today. He’s asked me to become his PA–”

  “Doesn’t he already have a PA?” Maggie responded instinctively, while her head tried to process the implication of what she’d been told.

  “He has a PA in the Dublin office but he wants me to be based in West Lough. He’s suggesting I could live in Dolores…”

  That was as much as Maggie needed to hear. Nonetheless, Paula insisted on elaborating on Callum’s plans.

  In the end, Maggie offered to go out to fetch them a takeaway to celebrate; it was the only way to escape the effervescing Paula and get some space.

  Walking down the street, Maggie struggled to take it all in. Was this all about her refusing to go home with him? If so, it was a most elaborate form of revenge.

  By the time Maggie returned to the flat with the Chinese takeaway in hand, she’d reached the conclusion that nothing could be done about it: she needed to accept that Paula was going to be Callum’s personal assistant and live in the house that once belonged to her and she needed to stop questioning why Callum had turned against her. Nothing could be done about either situation.

  * * *

  The next day, at work, Maggie was aware of a missed call from Callum on her mobile. It had been vibrating during a meeting and she’d had a moment to look at it but couldn’t deal with it there and then. She’d seen that he’d left her a voicemail. As soon as they broke for lunch, Maggie found a quiet corner to listen to Callum’s message.

  “Hey Maggie! I’ve been worried I hadn’t heard from you. Hope you’re OK. I’m off back to West Lough tonight but I wondered if we could meet for quick drink after work…”

  At six in the evening, Callum McCoy watched Magdalena O’Reilly walk across a bridge over the Liffey, towards the terrace of a wine bar where he sat. He smiled as she approached, blissfully unaware of the emotional turbulence he had caused her. “I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of Pinot Grigio,” he said to Maggie when she arrived.

  She nodded and sat down beside him.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Honestly?” she replied.

  The tone of her response and the look she gave him, alerted Callum to a problem. He awaited an explanation.

  “I’m furious that, because I wouldn’t go to bed with you, you’ve not only offered my sister a job as your PA, but also given her my house to live in.”

  “Oh,” Callum responded, suddenly appreciating how she might have interpreted things. “Maggie, believe me, this has noth
ing to do with us; it’s just business–”

  “And purely coincidence that you made these offers to Paula the day after I turned you down–”

  “Yes! I was going to offer the job to Paula anyway–”

  “And you didn’t think to run it by me?”

  “It wouldn’t have been ethical to tell you before I told Paula.”

  Maggie was silenced by his logic. She supposed he had a point. She looked down at the table. The wine glass in front of her had water condensing on it. Maggie raised her eyes and saw Callum smiling at her knowingly.

  “It couldn’t possibly be that you’re jealous, could it?” he suggested, appearing highly pleased with the notion.

  Maggie sighed, lifted the glass and took a good swig of the icy wine. She was exhausted by the games they’d been playing. “Yes!” she admitted emphatically, as she slammed the glass back down on the table, making Callum jump. “Too damn right I’m jealous!”

  And, at that, they both began to laugh.

  “You have absolutely no need to be,” Callum said, shaking his head sincerely, once he’d composed himself.

  Maggie sat back in her chair and sighed. “It’s just, I never said this, but I think Paula has a thing for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, it was her who told me you had a girlfriend when you came over to Dolores at Christmas.”

  “Oh. You know, I really don’t get the impression that she’s interested in me now. And I’m certainly not interested in her.”

  Callum’s claims put Maggie’s mind at ease to an extent.

  “And, regarding what you said about us sleeping together,” Callum recommenced, “I have nothing but admiration for your principles. And I think you’re right: it probably is too soon for that.”

  “But you do want to?” Maggie found herself saying.

  In response, Callum had to stifle his laughter. He took her hands in his and said very earnestly, “When the time’s right, there is nothing I would love more.”

  Maggie nodded her head and managed a smile.