What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author

by O'Flanagan, Sheila

  ‘You were a babe magnet?’ Bey couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘I thought so. But it was probably the money. I’m not that great a person really,’ said Philip.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’re any worse than the rest of us,’ said Bey. ‘We all want to believe that we do the right thing and behave the best way all the time, but faced with circumstances – we don’t.’

  She thought again of the way she’d behaved with Will Murdoch and felt a stab of pain and regret in her heart. But if she hadn’t kissed him, she wouldn’t have come home and wouldn’t have had this opportunity. And it had helped her to get a bit closer to her father, which had to be a good thing. Maybe it was all for the best, she told herself.

  ‘You’ve been brilliant.’ Philip didn’t notice that she’d lapsed into her own world for a moment. ‘You’ve taken everything we’ve thrown at you on the chin and you’ve produced some really fine work. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said.

  ‘I suppose I only ever saw the differences between us before,’ said Philip. ‘I never looked for the similarities. And yet I can see the Warren side of you now.’

  ‘I’m a Fitzpatrick,’ she told him. ‘I always will be. But I’m happy to have done these for you. It was an interesting challenge.’

  ‘You’re part of the team,’ said Philip. ‘And we’ll still need you to be part of it when they’re being made.’

  ‘Adele has to approve them first.’

  ‘She will,’ said Philip.

  Bey hoped he was right. If it were anyone else, she’d be confident. But with Adele she wasn’t sure at all.

  ‘Ice Dragon!’ Adele looked at her two sons, her face tight with anger. ‘After me! How dare she?’

  ‘It’s a perfect name,’ said Peter. ‘When you look at the pieces—’

  ‘Everyone knows the Adele range is all about flowers and beauty and elegance!’ cried Adele. ‘Not . . . not . . . whatever it is that “Ice Dragon” conjures up.’

  Peter and Philip exchanged glances.

  ‘What?’ demanded Adele. ‘You think it describes me? It most certainly does not. And these necklaces, clever though they might be, are nothing, absolutely nothing, in comparison to the Snowdrop or the Rose.’

  ‘They’re for a different market, Mum,’ said Philip. ‘A market that’s passing us by. People’s tastes have moved on.’

  ‘They’ve been buying Adele rings for over thirty years,’ said Adele.

  ‘The whole reason we asked Bey to design something for us was because people haven’t been buying the Adele ranges the way they once did,’ Philip pointed out. ‘We’ve fallen behind. You know that already.’

  ‘We wanted it revitalised,’ said Adele. ‘Not butchered.’

  ‘She hasn’t butchered it,’ said Philip. ‘She’s reimagined it.’

  ‘And within the parameters I gave her,’ said Peter. ‘She’s very clued in on the cost of stones and settings and how things are done. I was sure we’d have an argument about what she wanted to use, but even with the one-off pieces she’s been very pragmatic. In fact she’s startlingly businesslike about it.’

  ‘We don’t want pragmatism!’ cried Adele. ‘We don’t want businesslike. We want beauty and perfection.’

  ‘We’ve got that too.’

  ‘But not prettiness.’ Adele looked mutinous. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t approve these.’

  ‘You don’t have a veto,’ Peter reminded her.

  Adele stared at them. ‘You mean you’d give her the go-ahead even without my approval?’

  ‘Mum, you’re the backbone of this company,’ said Philip. ‘You’ve been part of it your whole life. But you can surely see that we need to make changes.’

  ‘Of course I know that,’ Adele snapped. ‘But beauty never changes.’

  ‘These are beautiful,’ said Peter.

  ‘I grant you there’s a certain quality about them.’Adele looked at the images again. ‘But they’re not . . . they’re not what your father would have commissioned.’

  Her sons were silent for a moment, then Philip spoke.

  ‘Dad started off as a watch repairer,’ he reminded his mother. ‘Then he bought in jewellery. Then he started to create his own. He continually changed things. Do you really think he’d want to be left behind in today’s world? That he’d want to see his clients move to other stores? Because that’s what’s happening now.’

  ‘You’re telling me that Bey Fitzpatrick has better taste than me?’ Adele glared at them.

  ‘She’s in touch with today’s tastes,’ said Peter. ‘She’s young and forward-thinking and she’s the greatest talent we could possibly have in our corner right now.’

  ‘I’m not denying she’s talented.’ Adele sniffed. ‘I just don’t like what she has a talent for.’

  ‘But other people will,’ said Philip.

  ‘And they’ll associate it with me,’ said Adele. ‘The Ice Dragon.’

  ‘What would you like to call the collection?’ asked Peter.

  ‘The Adele Charm,’ she said. ‘Or the Adele Elegance. Or the Adele Perfection. Or . . .’

  The two men said nothing. The silence in the room grew heavier as Adele flicked through the images from the start again.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ she said, throwing up her hands in surrender. ‘Ice Dragon it is. But if the whole collection crashes and burns, don’t blame me.’

  ‘We won’t,’ promised Philip. ‘We’ll allow you to say you told us so.’

  As they drove away from the house, Philip glanced across at his brother.

  ‘It had better work,’ he said. ‘We’ll be flayed alive by the Ice Dragon herself if doesn’t.’

  ‘It will,’ said Peter. But he crossed his fingers as he spoke.

  Bey was at home in Ringsend when her father phoned. She took a deep breath before picking up her mobile and answering it.

  ‘She doesn’t like Ice Dragon,’ Philip said.

  ‘The name or the collection?’

  ‘Either, really,’ said Philip.

  Bey felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach.

  ‘But Peter and I agree that it’s exactly right.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Of course we do. I think I knew it straight away. I also knew Mum would hate it. But that we’d talk her round in the end.’

  ‘So . . .’

  ‘So we’re going ahead,’ said Philip. ‘I’ve already been talking to our suppliers. I’ll set up a meeting with the goldsmith. I’ve also talked to our event management company. The Ice Dragon launch will be a huge event. We’ll be putting Warren’s back on the map with a bang.’

  ‘But what about Adele?’

  ‘Of course she hankers after something more traditional. But in her heart she knows we’re right. And we’re a hundred per cent behind you.’

  ‘That’s a relief.’ Bey’s stomach was churning now. With excitement, happiness and apprehension. Just as it always did when a new project got the green light.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Philip.

  ‘Don’t thank me until you’ve sold something,’ she said.

  ‘That’s beyond doubt,’ said Philip.

  And he meant it.

  Lola, who’d listened to Bey’s side of the conversation, gave her a tentative thumbs-up.

  ‘White smoke,’ confirmed Bey. ‘Oh God, Mum, I hope it all works out. They’re laying a lot on the line with this collection. What if it goes horribly wrong?’

  ‘Why should it go wrong?’ asked Lola. ‘You’ve worked really hard.’

  ‘Hard work doesn’t necessarily mean success,’ said Bey. ‘And they still have to make the damn things. That could go horribly wrong too.’

  ‘Weren’t your Van Aelten and Schaap collections successful?’ demanded Lola. ‘Why should this be any different?’

  Because it was about more than the jewellery, thought Bey as she lay in bed that evening. Because it was about everything that mattered in her life. Because it turned running awa
y into facing up to things. Because the Warrens had come to her and she’d been able to give them something that nobody else could. Because it was a new version of herself.

  It was exhilarating.

  It was terrifying too.

  Bey and Philip went to meet Bernard Stephenson, a goldsmith they thought would be ideal for the Ice Dragon collection, in his workshop off Clarendon Street. He was a tall, gangly man in his forties who, like many other goldsmiths, had taken over the business from his father.

  ‘I’d love to work on these,’ he said when she showed him the designs. ‘I know I could make them live up to your drawings.’

  ‘It’s not intricate,’ said Bey. ‘But it’s very fine work.’

  ‘I can see that.’

  ‘I want to give the impression that the stones are almost floating—’

  ‘Of course you do,’ he said before she finished. ‘I know what you want. We can do it here. It would be a privilege.’

  Bey smiled. ‘I’ll need to meet you every so often to see how they’re coming along.’

  ‘Naturally.’ He looked at the images on her iPad again. ‘It’s really quite clever what you’ve done. And I love the name.’

  Bey glanced at her father, who winked at her.

  ‘I’ll be back with my brother to talk through costs with you,’ said Philip. ‘But I’m confident we can work together.’

  ‘So am I.’ Bernard held out his hand.

  Philip shook it. Then Bey did too.

  ‘And that’s that,’ said Philip as they left the workshop. ‘The Ice Dragon collection is out of the starting blocks.’

  ‘We still have to get the stones,’ Bey reminded him.

  ‘I’m working on that,’ said her father. ‘You were good with those too. They’re not so big or so unique that we won’t be able to find them. I’ve got a really good contact in Germany who can do it for me. I trust him completely.’

  Bey thought for a moment of Will Murdoch, criss-crossing the globe, looking for the best stones for Van Aelten and Schaap. She hoped he was happy. She hoped Callista was happy too. She was glad that she was happy herself. And she was. Despite the ridiculous ache in her heart that had never quite gone away.

  Chapter 36

  Alexandrite: a rare gemstone that changes from green to red depending on the light

  When she finally got a call to say that the first of the Ice Dragon pieces was ready, Bey was almost sick with anticipation. She met her father at the Duke Lane store and then walked with him to Clarendon Street, where Bernard was waiting for them. The workshop was busy, with many of the other goldsmiths also working on Ice Dragon jewellery, and as always when she saw her designs being made, Bey felt a surge of pride and excitement shoot through her. Then Bernard led them into a room at the back of the building where the necklace was waiting for them.

  ‘What d’you think?’ he asked.

  Bey stared at it without speaking. Philip didn’t say a word either. Then the two of them looked at each other and Philip put his arms around her and hugged her.

  ‘You’re squashing me,’ she mumbled, her face pressed against his chest.

  ‘Congratulations.’ Instead of releasing her, Philip held her even tighter. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Isn’t it.’ Bernard sounded pleased. ‘Of course we had a few issues initially, as you already know, but everything worked out in the end.’

  She’d expected there’d be problems – nothing ever went completely smoothly in the process – but Bernard was right, they’d managed to resolve all of them without too much trouble.

  ‘Dad, if you could let me go, I could actually see it properly,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry.’ He released his hold on her and Bey picked up the necklace. She examined it carefully, noting how the stones had been set into the metal, perfectly capturing the floating effect of her design.

  ‘It’s wonderful work, Bernard,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘We’ll have the others ready shortly and the rest of the collection will follow. It’s going to be fabulous,’ he added. ‘Really fabulous.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Philip. ‘I hope our customers do too.’

  ‘It’s a classic,’ said Bernard. ‘Definitely. And it truly has been a pleasure to work on it.’

  Bey and Philip left the workshop and he steered her towards the Westbury again.

  ‘This is becoming like a second office,’ she remarked as he led her to an upstairs table.

  ‘Celebration time,’ he told her. He took his mobile from his pocket and phoned Peter. ‘Meet us here,’ he said.

  When Peter arrived a few minutes later, the waiter had already brought a bottle of champagne.

  ‘It’s even better in real life than in the images,’ Philip told his brother. ‘It’s going to be phenomenal.’

  ‘Please stop bigging it up so much,’ implored Bey. ‘Of course I think it’s lovely, but I would, wouldn’t I? Maybe we’re all deluding ourselves. Maybe nobody else will like it. Maybe—’

  ‘Bey!’ Peter’s glass was halfway to his lips. ‘Stop! You were super-confident when you talked to us before. Super-confident when you showed us the design. You even lectured Mum about your talent. Why are you getting cold feet now?’

  ‘I always do,’ she admitted. ‘Once I see the finished product, no matter how gorgeous it is, I panic.’

  ‘Don’t panic,’ said Peter. ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘. . . and the PR around it all is so intense.’

  Bey was sitting in the kitchen with Lola, warming her hands on a cup of tea. Ireland had been hit by the early onset of winter, brought about by arctic air swirling down from the North Pole. Temperatures had plunged, and even indoors the chill in the air was noticeable.

  ‘It’ll be brilliant,’ said Lola. ‘And you’ll be fine.’

  ‘I’ve never been involved in anything quite like it before,’ said Bey. ‘We had plenty of events at Van Aelten and Schaap, but they were much lower key than this. And I didn’t go to all of them. It’s usually the retail people because they’re the ones who know the customers. I really don’t want them to make a big thing of it.’

  ‘It’s very important to them,’ said Lola. ‘Of course they’re making a big thing of it. And coming up to Christmas too.’

  ‘The timing is good,’ agreed Bey. ‘Hopefully the rich and happy haven’t already splurged on their festive gifts.’

  ‘The rich and happy?’

  ‘Something we used to say at Van Aelten.’ She gazed unseeingly into the distance. ‘That we only ever saw people when they were rich and happy. Which is true. Even when people were buying themselves divorce jewellery, they were celebrating.’

  Lola grinned. ‘We’re all entitled to be happy,’ she said. ‘And if you can afford to celebrate it too – well, why not?’

  ‘That’s what I think,’ agreed Bey. ‘All the same, it’s a make-believe world.’

  ‘Sometimes we need the make-believe to get us through the day,’ said Lola. ‘Besides, a great piece of jewellery can be very meaningful.’

  Bey’s fingers went to the Bluebells in her ears.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I wish . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You gave these to me,’ she said. ‘They mean a lot. I wish you had something meaningful of your own.’

  ‘That’s sweet of you,’ said Lola. ‘But I’m rich in other ways. And happy too.’

  ‘I know money can’t buy happiness,’ agreed Bey. ‘But, oh, it can ease the pain of misery sometimes.’

  Lola laughed. ‘You’re spending too much time with the Warrens. Tell me, what does Adele think of it all?’

  ‘It’s hard to know,’ admitted Bey. ‘Dad and Peter are so enthusiastic, they kind of carry the whole thing along with them. Even Anthony has said nice things, though not directly to me. But Adele . . . Leaving aside how she feels about me, she doesn’t like the name and she’s not mad on the design. All the same, if they make money,
I guess she’ll get over it.’

  ‘What she doesn’t like is that you’ve done it for them,’ said Lola.

  ‘You’re right about that,’ said Bey. ‘It’s like having to eat her words.’

  ‘No harm.’ Lola sniffed. ‘She was always an old battleaxe. Even when she was young.’

  Bey smiled and then shivered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m terrified,’ she admitted. ‘This time next week the launch will be over and judgement will have been passed, and if I’ve failed . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘You won’t have failed,’ said Lola. ‘Regardless of what happens, I think you’re one of the most talented people I know. And even though I can’t afford those fabulously unique necklaces, I’m going to buy myself an Ice Dragon pendant.’

  ‘Mum!’ Bey was shocked. ‘They’re way too expensive.’

  ‘I’ll demand a discount,’ Lola told her. ‘It’s the least they can do for the mother of the creative genius who’s going to save their business.’

  Bey was more nervous than ever on the morning of the launch. The continuing cold snap had brought a light dusting of snow to the city, and although it didn’t last long on the main streets, the laneway outside her workshop was treacherously slippy when she arrived to open up.

  Liesel, who was now on a part-time contract, arrived a few minutes later wearing a duffel coat and wrapped in a wool scarf and hat.

  ‘Excited about tonight?’ she asked as she hung up the scarf and swapped her coat for her green apron, but kept her hat on.

  ‘Terrified is more like it,’ replied Bey. ‘The press will be there and if it’s all too horribly over-the-top they’ll probably do a piece about people with more money than sense and the perils of having a family business.’

  ‘Or they’ll write about the art that’s to be found in the Ice Dragon collection and the fabulous talent that Warren’s uncovered,’ said Liesel.

  ‘You’re so sweet.’ Bey gave her a grateful smile. ‘I guess it’s too late to worry now. How are you getting on with the latest Bijou pieces?’

  ‘Polishing today,’ said Liesel. ‘We’ve a lot of orders to go out too. I was checking your spreadsheets yesterday; they’re ninety per cent up on last year.’