‘I was out with my mum,’ she said. ‘I’m glad to hear the notebook wasn’t ruined. I was feeling pretty bad about it.’
‘No need to feel bad any more,’ he said.
‘So as you’re here, you must have known Richard?’ said Bey.
He nodded. ‘I did business with him a few times. When I heard the news, I stayed on in Dublin to pay my respects. He was a good man to work with. And you?’
‘Oh, he’s . . . he was a distant relative.’ Bey felt that was the best approach to take regarding her relationship to her late grandfather.
‘In that case, I’m sorry,’ said the man. He held out his hand. ‘Will Murdoch.’
‘Bey Fitzpatrick.’
His grip was confident and businesslike.
‘I was in a shop that was raided myself once,’ he said. ‘Horrible thing.’
‘Really?’ Bey’s eyes widened. ‘What happened?’
‘Masked men burst in, told us all to get down and stay down, fired a shot into the ceiling and then made off with as much as they could,’ said Will. ‘It seemed to last forever, but apparently it took less than a minute.’
‘Scary.’
‘At least none of us was killed,’ he said. ‘We were gutted about the jewellery, of course, but in the end, no matter how beautiful it was, people’s lives were more important.’
‘So you’re in the trade?’ she said.
‘A wholesaler,’ he told her. ‘We supply diamonds and other gemstones.’
She nodded.
‘I like your Adele Bluebells,’ he added. ‘Sapphires are my favourite stones.’
This time she smiled. ‘Mine too. There’s something about the deep blue of a sapphire that tugs at me,’ she confessed.
‘It’s an emotional thing, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You see a stone and it seems to speak to you and . . .’ He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. ‘Sorry, I get a bit carried away sometimes.’
‘But I think the same thing,’ she said. ‘They’re not just pieces of rock.’
‘Of course some people only like them for what they’re worth,’ Will said. ‘But I see them as living history. Here before us, here after we go.’
‘Exactly.’ And as their eyes met, she was struck once again by the dark amethyst of his. Whereas mine, she thought, are more like aquamarines.
‘If you’re ever thinking of having a piece made, you should contact me.’ He broke their gaze and took a business card from his inside pocket. ‘I love matching stones to people and I know I could get a really good one for you. Though what am I saying?’ he added. ‘You probably get a family discount at Warren’s. You don’t need anything from me.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t get a discount. And I’ll keep you in mind if I ever need precious gems. It’s unlikely,’ she added. ‘I might be as much of a sucker as the next girl for a flawless diamond, but right now I’d be pushing it to afford a decent cubic zirconia.’
He laughed. ‘Are you involved in the jewellery trade yourself?’
‘Sort of,’ she admitted, and told him about her apprenticeship with the Jurados.
‘I don’t know them,’ he said. ‘What sort of stuff do you design?’
Bey pulled at the silver chain around her neck. It was one of the earliest pieces she’d done in Córdoba, a crescent moon with a small black stone at the very tip. She’d made it so that Manolo could assess her skills. Even though there was nothing difficult in it, he’d made comments to her at every stage of the process, and as a result she thought it was one of her best pieces of work.
‘Striking,’ said Will as he turned it over between his fingers.
‘I realise it’s not much.’ Bey was feeling embarrassed now. After all, if Will dealt with Warren’s, he was probably used to far more intricate work that this. And of course nothing in the Warren’s line contained glass stones.
‘I like the style,’ he said. ‘There’s something eye catching about its simplicity. Do you have others?’
‘I’m working on them at the moment,’ she said.
‘I’d love to see them.’
‘I can email you photos if you like.’ Bey knew that he was probably being polite and that a gemstone wholesaler wouldn’t have a lot of use for her designs, but it was nice of him to ask.
‘My details are on the card I gave you,’ he said. ‘Give me a call any time.’
‘You’re based in London,’ she said as she looked at it.
He nodded. ‘But we also have offices in New York.’
‘Do you travel a lot?’
‘Yes, and usually long haul. Which is why I’m so crap with luggage on short-hop flights.’ He gave her an apologetic look. ‘I was a bit of an arse the other day. I’m sorry.’
‘I retaliated by dumping my coffee all over you, so we’re quits.’ She smiled. Perhaps it was because of their shared views on precious gems, but the walls and barriers she normally put up around men she didn’t know seemed unnecessary with Will Murdoch.
She would have enjoyed talking a little more, but at that moment she saw Adele making her way across the room. As her grandmother said hello, she effectively excluded Will, who murmured a quick goodbye and left them alone.
‘You’re looking surprisingly elegant today,’ Adele said when Bey remained silent. ‘You’ve improved with age.’
‘Thank you.’ Bey was getting a little tired of people commenting on her appearance. The last time she’d seen any of them, she’d been a child. Now she was a grown-up.
‘I appreciate that you and your mother came to the service. It wasn’t necessary for you to come to the house, but I believe Peter insisted.’ Adele’s words were jerky and her voice was uneven.
‘We only dropped by for a few minutes,’ said Bey. ‘I’m sure Mum will want to leave soon.’
‘Richard had a softer spot than was necessary as far as you were concerned,’ said Adele, her long, slender fingers playing unconsciously with her Nightshade necklace. ‘Regardless of my personal feelings, he’d be glad to know you were here.’
‘Oh.’ Bey didn’t know what else to say.
‘How are you getting on with your life?’ her grandmother finally asked.
‘Pretty well,’ said Bey. ‘I graduated last year.’
‘Have you got a job?’
‘Unpaid except for a very small living allowance, but I’m learning a lot,’ she said.
‘And what are you learning?’ asked Adele.
‘Design.’
‘Designing what?’
Bey didn’t think her grandmother would appreciate hearing that she was following in her grandfather’s footsteps and studying jewellery. She was pretty sure Adele would consider it an affront. So she simply shrugged and said, ‘This and that.’
‘And are you planning to get a proper job?’ asked Adele.
‘I hope so,’ said Bey. ‘I have to pay the rent somehow.’
‘Don’t you live with your mother any more?’
Bey explained about studying in Birmingham and now being in Córdoba.
‘Isn’t it expensive to study outside Ireland?’ asked Adele.
‘Mum saved up for me,’ said Bey. ‘She always made sure that I was looked after. She’s amazing like that.’
Adele said nothing, but her expression hardened and the silence between them grew. Bey looked around to see if she could catch Lola’s eye, but her mother was in deep conversation with a woman Bey didn’t know.
‘Did you ever meet Richard again?’
Adele’s question was so unexpected that Bey looked at her in astonishment.
‘Grandfather? Why on earth would I?’ she responded.
‘When he was ill, some time ago,’ said Adele. ‘When he had his bypass. You didn’t come to see him?’
‘No,’ said Bey. ‘How would I? I was at college.’
Adele’s shoulders relaxed a little. ‘Well, I don’t suppose we’ll see each other after today,’ she said. ‘Thank you for coming.’
She turned and walked away.
Bey stared after her, completely bewildered by Adele’s remarks. It was as though her grandmother was trying to elicit some kind of secret from her, she thought. But the one sure thing in Bey’s life was that she didn’t have any secrets.
She glanced at her watch. They’d been here for almost an hour and she really wanted to leave. But she had something she needed to do first. She walked out of the room and crossed the hallway, moving away from the noise of the two reception rooms. She opened one of the closed doors and looked inside.
A big mahogany desk with a closed laptop in the centre of it dominated the room. Bookshelves lined the walls and there were two wooden filing cabinets in one of the corners.
This will do perfectly, thought Bey, as she rooted in her handbag. Nestled at the bottom were two small boxes. She took them out and opened them. One contained a small sapphire ring. The other a silver locket.
She’d almost given the ring to Astrid when she’d started talking about it, but she’d been afraid of making a scene. Anyway, a scene hadn’t been part of her plan. But from the moment her father had given her Astrid’s ring, she’d wanted to give it back. She simply hadn’t known the best way to go about it. As for the locket, she’d never worn it.
Adele would be happy to have them, she thought. And she herself was happy not to.
She placed the boxes side by side on the desk and closed them again. Then she walked out of Richard’s study and went to find her mother.
Lola was talking to Philip while Donna stood awkwardly to one side when Bey came up to her.
‘We should probably go, Mum,’ she said.
‘I haven’t had time to talk to you,’ said Philip. ‘I know these aren’t ideal circumstances, but it’s the first time I’ve seen you for ages and we should at least have a moment’s conversation.’
‘We’ve managed fine without it till now, don’t you think?’ said Bey.
Her father looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I would’ve—’
‘Please don’t,’ said Bey. ‘Don’t say you would’ve got in touch or we should’ve got in touch. We didn’t and that’s all that counts.’
‘Your mother—’
‘And please don’t blame my mother for anything.’ Bey’s voice was firm. ‘She’s been brilliant. She always is.’
‘I wasn’t going to blame her,’ said Philip. ‘Although—’
‘We really need to go.’ Bey interrupted him for the third time. ‘I have a flight to catch tomorrow.’
‘Fine,’ said Philip. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t try.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You were a bit rude to your dad,’ Lola told her as they walked out of the front door. ‘He was making an effort.’
‘He doesn’t like me,’ Bey said. ‘Same as Adele.’
‘They don’t know you,’ Lola reminded her. ‘And like I’ve said a million times before, that’s my fault as much as theirs. I didn’t think your dad and I would be good together and I . . . I made the decision that it was better for both of us to go it alone.’
‘It was the right decision.’ Bey linked her arm with Lola’s. ‘You always make the right decisions, Mum.’
‘Oh Bey—’
But Lola was interrupted by the sound of Bey’s name being called. They turned around. Will Murdoch was standing on the steps.
‘I just wanted to catch you before you leave,’ he said. ‘I meant what I said about your designs. I’d really love to see them, so don’t forget to send them.’
‘Thank you.’ Bey smiled at him. ‘And if you hear of anyone hiring promising young designers, please let me know.’
‘Of course I will,’ he said.
‘It was good to meet you.’
‘You too.’
She waved and then caught up with her mother, who was waiting for her at the gate.
‘Who was he?’ asked Lola. ‘He looked vaguely familiar.’
‘The man I spilled the coffee over.’
‘You’re not serious! What on earth was he doing here?’
Bey explained Will’s connection to the Warrens.
‘And he wants you to send him designs?’
Bey nodded.
‘So drowning him in coffee might have been a good career move,’ said Lola.
‘You never know.’
But that night, as she looked at his business card, Bey realised with a jolt that it wasn’t her career she was thinking of.
It was just him.
Which was a complete surprise.
Chapter 24
Lapis lazuli: a unique deep blue gemstone
It was silly to think that Will Murdoch had meant what he said, Bey thought a few months later as she sat at the big dining table with the Jurados, who’d organised a farewell dinner for her the night before she left Córdoba. She’d sent him pictures of her designs as he’d asked, and had received an automatic response saying that he was away on business and would get back to her as soon as possible. But she hadn’t heard anything from him since, and the excitement that she’d felt about someone being interested in her work had dissipated with each passing day. As had the unaccustomed feeling of having met someone who mattered to her in a way she couldn’t quite explain even to herself. Even though she’d only exchanged a few words with him, she’d felt a connection with him that she’d never felt with a man before. But it had been fleeting, she told herself, and he clearly hadn’t felt anything at all. His request to see her designs had simply been a kindness on his part. He worked with fine jewellery. He had no interest in silver trinkets. And no interest in her either. She’d foolishly hoped that he’d be so enchanted by her designs he’d immediately recommend her to a famous jewellery house like Van Cleef or Tiffany’s. But she had to accept that she was nobody as far as he was concerned. And that his promise of letting her know about new opportunities had been part of social conversation, nothing more. So, with no other options on the horizon, she was returning to Dublin.
‘. . . but we hope you will come back to us someday.’ Manolo’s voice broke into her thoughts. He was standing at the head of the table and raising a wine glass to her. ‘Because you have a good eye for beautiful design and you are a quick learner of our methods.’
‘Thank you,’ she said in response. ‘It’s been wonderful being here and . . . and I’m sorry to be leaving you.’ Her voice broke at the end because she was speaking the truth. She was sad that her time with the Jurados, who’d treated her more and more as part of the family, had come to an end.
‘I’ll miss you most of all.’ It was Martín who spoke next. ‘Having you here has made me think differently about our own designs. And other things.’
She smiled at him. She hadn’t said it to Lola, but Martín had been another coffee-jar man in her life. She’d felt the spark of attraction when they’d first met at Birmingham and then when he’d collected her from the train station at Córdoba. And she’d allowed herself to be drawn closer and closer to him as she honed her silversmithing skills, culminating in a night of frenzied passion in the studio apartment above the workshop where she was staying.
But, as with all the men she’d dated, she’d held a part of herself back. She didn’t know why it was that she couldn’t lose her heart to anyone. She told herself it was a good thing, because the world probably had enough broken-hearted women in it already. She ignored the fact that, at the back of her mind, she could still hear her father’s words, the day after she’d run away. You clearly don’t know how to judge men. Because she didn’t want to think that he could be right.
When she arrived back in Dublin, she got a taxi from the airport to the house in Ringsend. Lola was still at work – the agency was pitching to a new corporate client and she was leading the proposal.
‘I’ve got to be there,’ she’d told Bey. ‘I’m the one who’s been in touch with their directors and I’m the one who needs to close this deal.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Bey had responded. ‘I know how to make myself feel at home.’
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sp; Now, however, as she walked through the familiar rooms, she felt an unaccustomed sense of not belonging. More than her years in college, her months with the Jurados had made her feel independent. As though she was finally living a life that wasn’t predictable. But now she was back. And instead of Bey Fitzpatrick, the talented Irish designer, she was just Lola’s daughter. The daughter, she knew, that Lola continued to worry about despite all the progress she’d made in her life.
‘Oh, mothers worry about their daughters forever,’ Lola had said one evening when she’d phoned Bey, not having heard from her for over a week. ‘Your gran still worries about me.’
‘Nobody could possibly worry about you!’ Bey had exclaimed. ‘You’re Superwoman.’
And they’d laughed. But it was true, Bey thought. Her mother had an inner strength and an inner confidence that Bey knew she lacked herself. Lola always knew what to do. And despite the fact that they both agreed she’d made mistakes in the past, she could move on from them. Bey wished she could feel as free from the past. But even though the spectre of Raymond Fenton had finally disappeared, the knowledge that she herself had been to blame for what had happened never would.
Being back in Dublin was more problematic than she’d expected. The economic downturn, which Des had been so blasé about a few months earlier, seemed to have the country in a vice-like grip. Companies were shedding jobs, house prices were falling and everybody was stressed. Nobody wanted to take on a design graduate, and even temporary jobs like working in a pub or a coffee shop were hard to come by. Bey had originally assumed she’d be staying with Lola for a few weeks, but a couple of months after her return she was still there and still sending out her CV to prospective employers. So far her only success had been reprising her college job as a part-time barista in a coffee shop on the quays.
‘I’m one of these boomerang kids,’ she wailed as once again she checked her email fruitlessly in the hope that a job offer would have arrived. ‘I’m back and I’m afraid I’ll never be able to leave again.’
‘Of course you will,’ said Lola. ‘But in the meantime, I love having you here.’
Des didn’t, though. Bey knew that he was increasingly irritated by her presence in the house, and once or twice he had greeted her with a jokey ‘Still here?’ that was anything but funny. Lola spent occasional nights in his apartment, and those were the nights in which Bey was at her most relaxed, as she didn’t feel that she was casting a cloud over their relationship. One day she asked Des if he knew anyone who could give her a job, and he replied tersely that if she read the papers she’d know that the housing market was in free fall and that he had far more important things to worry about than a NEET.
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 22