Alexandra had hardly slept a wink all night. She’d have to disguise the dark shadows under her eyes, she fretted. She peered anxiously at her reflection in the mirror in her en suite. At least she had an en suite. She wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with those brats of Chris’s.
She sighed. What a way to be going for an interview. She’d never been so nervous in her life. Everything was riding on this job. Her career and reputation were on the line. So was her apartment. It was crucial that she do a brilliant interview. There was no room for nerves. She had to be totally in control.
Alexandra switched on the shower and stood beneath the bracing spray. She could hear the twins running up and down the hall. She gritted her teeth in irritation. What did Chris think this was, some kind of a crèche, for God’s sake? The sooner she was financially secure again the better.
At ten-thirty precisely, she was sitting in front of Arthur Reynolds’s large teak desk answering the questions he fired at her. Outwardly she looked as cool as a cucumber. Sophisticated, articulate, in control. Inwardly, she quaked. So much was at stake. But she did look the bee’s knees, she silently reassured herself, trying to picture how Arthur Reynolds was perceiving her. The suit was extremely chic and her make-up and elegant chignon flawless. The questions and answers flew across the table like a ping-pong ball. Eventually, Arthur leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes.
‘Why exactly did you leave Stuart and Stuart’s, Alexandra? There’s a lot of gossip doing the rounds.’
Alexandra’s heart sank. The question she’d been dreading.
‘I’m sure there is, Arthur’ – he’d asked her to call him Arthur – ‘as you know, Dublin is a small city and the advertising world is notorious for gossip and Chinese whispers. I have no intentions of bad-mouthing my former employers. I think it’s a duty of an employee or an ex-employee to be loyal. I left for professional reasons. Their vision and mine did not coincide. I don’t approve of sloppy incompetence. I found the budgetary restrictions frustrating. The accounting left something to be desired. And I’m afraid that’s all I’m going to say on the matter,’ she said crisply.
‘I see,’ Arthur said non-committally, his expression inscrutable. ‘You know Malachy MacDonald has made approaches to me?’
‘So I’ve heard,’ Alexandra replied evenly. She wasn’t going to let him see that she was rattled.
‘What do you think I should do?’
Alexandra gave him a cool stare. ‘That’s entirely up to you, Arthur. You must make up your own mind.’
‘Hmm. Well, it’s not too difficult.’ He smiled. ‘How soon can you start? And I think a salary commensurate with your position is appropriate.’ He named a sum that was almost twice her old salary. ‘I’ll expect miracles for that,’ he added humorously.
‘You’ll get them,’ Alexandra grinned. ‘I can start as soon as you need me.’
‘First thing tomorrow. Come along, I’ll show you your office. Now you’ll need to get a secretary and an assistant. I can promote in-house or if there’s anyone you’d like to recommend?’
‘I have an excellent young woman I could recommend as my assistant. She’d have to be employed on the same salary she’s on at least.’ Alexandra was brisk. ‘I know a good secretary with PR experience also.’
‘Fine. I’m sure we could go a little higher with both salaries. I want you to get a good team around you. One that you’re happy with. And I want the best profile possible.’
‘You may rest assured, Arthur, your life is going to change,’ Alexandra promised her new boss.
She wasn’t joking. Into women or not, he’d need a wife to entertain his corporate clients and keep him moving up the ladder of success. She was going to make herself indispensable to Arthur Reynolds and when the time was right she was going to suggest an alliance that would suit him and her. Marriage, in other words. Lovers could come and go, his and hers. She’d have his name, a ring on her finger, and power and money. It would suit her just fine. Alexandra drew a deep breath. What a magnificent way to start the new decade.
‘Jane, I’m really in a pickle. I have the kids. Suzy’s dumped them on me and she’s taken off. Don’t ask me where. And I have to meet a client this afternoon. I’m stuck, could you mind them for me?’ Chris begged his sister-in-law. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
‘Go on,’ Jane said dryly. ‘What time do you want me to take them?’
‘Can I get back to you? Won’t be long. Thanks a million, Jane. You’re a doll.’ Chris hung up, pleased with himself. So far so good.
Now for the difficult part. He dialled Ellen’s number. Please let her be in, he willed, as the phone rang and rang, unanswered. He was just about to hang up despondently when she picked it up.
‘It’s me,’ he said.
‘Oh! Hello, Chris,’ Ellen sounded flat. Depressed.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You said I could ring you,’ he reminded her quickly. He heard her sigh at the other end of the line.
‘Yes, I know what I said.’
‘Ellen, can we meet? Are you free this afternoon?’
There was silence for a long time.
Then to his great joy she said, ‘Where?’
‘You pick.’ He could afford to be magnanimous.
‘Your flat,’ Ellen suggested.
Chris put on his best hard-done-by voice. ‘It’s a bit of a kip, Ellen. It does me. All I need is a bed and a cooker. But I’d really rather take you somewhere nicer.’
Good touch, the bed and the cooker bit. It added just the right note of pathos, he applauded himself silently.
‘I don’t really want to go to a pub or a hotel,’ Ellen said slowly.
‘No, just somewhere where we can be by ourselves,’ Chris agreed. ‘Where? A walk on Howth, or Killiney?’ He named two of their old haunts.
There was silence while she pondered the question. ‘How about the Botanic Gardens? I could meet you at the Addison Lodge.’
‘Perfect,’ Chris approved. ‘What time?’
‘Two o’clock?’
‘OK, love. I’ll see you then.’ He replaced the receiver quickly, afraid she’d change her mind. He dialled his sister-in-law’s number and told her he’d drop the children over to her at quarter past one. Everything was working out just the way he wanted it.
He made himself a mug of coffee. The twins were playing noisily in the hall.
He’d had a hell of a shock when Alexandra’d walked in last night. That had been totally unexpected. And then she’d gone out this morning, dressed to kill, and wouldn’t tell him where she was going. She’d been in a real snit with him. Something was up. He felt uneasy about it. She was behaving very mysteriously indeed.
It was imperative that he persuade Ellen to take him back. If he didn’t he was up shit creek without a paddle. Alexandra didn’t want him. Suzy didn’t want him. Ellen had to. She’d never let him down yet. This time he’d go all out to woo her, he vowed as he stared out the window at a robin nestling in the bare-branched tree outside the kitchen window. This time they’d be together for good.
Ellen nibbled on a corner of toast. She wasn’t really hungry. When the phone had rung, she’d half-hoped it was Doug. Instead it was Chris. She was so annoyed that it wasn’t Doug, ringing to apologise, that she’d agreed on the spur of the moment to meet Chris.
Ben and Miriam had collected Stephanie twenty minutes earlier to take her into Dublin to see the moving crib with her cousins. They were making a day of it. They were going to a matinee in the afternoon. Ellen had the day to herself. She didn’t want to sit staring at the four walls, so now she had a date with her ex-lover, she thought wryly.
She couldn’t believe that Chris had ended up in a flat. It sounded horrible. A bed and a cooker. What a lonely way to live! She didn’t want to meet him in Howth. Doug and she often walked the pier there. Killiney was too far away. The Botanic Gardens had been an inspired idea.
She wondered would he ki
ss her. For a long time after they’d split up she’d dreamed of him kissing her and making love to her. But he wasn’t in her head like that at all now, she reflected ruefully. Now it was Doug’s arms she imagined around her.
She’d never seen Doug as angry as she’d seen him last night. Ellen sighed. Now that her temper had abated a little she admitted that there was only so much he could take. She’d pushed him over the edge.
But still, he’d been very rude and pass-remarkable. He’d called her a fool. It was up to him to ring and make up. She set her jaw stubbornly, cleared away the breakfast dishes and headed for the bathroom. She was going to have a nice long soak and decide what she’d wear this afternoon. She wanted to look her best. Chris always had that effect on her.
She arrived at the Addison at ten past two, dressed in her Christmas outfit. A suede midi-skirt and a black polo-neck jumper. It was extremely slimming and her long black boots and black wool jacket were elegant yet casual. It was like an outfit Emma might wear. Ellen was very pleased with the sophisticated effect. Her hair, washed and blow-dried, lay silky and feathery at the nape of her neck. She’d taken extra care with her make-up.
Ellen had deliberately come ten minutes late. She wouldn’t give Chris the satisfaction of thinking she was dying to see him. He was waiting for her. His face lit up when he saw her. In spite of herself she softened. He looked older, tired, defeated. With little of the brash confidence that she’d known. When he held out his arms to her, she slipped into them and hugged him back.
‘Hiya, Chris.’
‘It’s great to see you, baby,’ he said quietly. ‘Would you like a drink or will we go for our walk?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want a drink, thanks, Chris.’
‘OK, come on.’ He took her hand and they walked outside into the dull gloomy afternoon. They crossed over Botanic Road and walked hand in hand through the high green gates of the Botanic Gardens.
‘What way do you want to go?’
‘Let’s take the long way around to the Rose Garden. We’ll do the Cemetery Walk,’ Ellen suggested. There were few other people around. Only the chirruping of the birds, the rustle of the wind in the foliage and the crunch of their shoes on the path broke the silence.
‘I thought you might have had something on,’ Chris ventured.
‘No. I was free this afternoon,’ Ellen said. It was strange talking to him like an acquaintance rather than someone she loved passionately. There was a barrier that had never been between them before. ‘Are you not working?’
‘It’s my chance to be with the twins for a couple of days. They’re going to my-sister-in-law’s tomorrow so I’ll go in to the office for a few hours in the afternoon to let my secretary know that I’m still on the planet and just to keep things up to date.’
‘Couldn’t you patch things up with Suzy?’ Ellen asked hesitantly.
‘Nah!’ Chris shook his head. ‘It’s over. Nothing’s going to change that. I made a mistake and now I’m paying for it.’ He plucked a berry off one of the snowberry shrubs and flicked it in the air.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ellen murmured.
‘Not half as sorry as I am.’ Chris squeezed her hand. They walked past a row of lime trees underneath which grew masses of mistletoe.
‘Look at the mistletoe.’ Chris broke off a sprig and dangled it over her head.
‘Don’t do that,’ Ellen protested. ‘We’ll be thrown out if you’re caught.’ She evaded his embrace and walked on.
‘Who’s going to catch us on a miserable day like today? There isn’t a sinner around,’ Chris said in exasperation. Clearly she was in no humour to be kissed. He threw the berried spray away in disgust. They walked close to the black iron boundary railings that separated the Gardens from Glasnevin cemetery. It was eerie. A mist seemed to hang from the branches of the trees which feathered the top of the tombstones, enveloping them in shadowy wreaths. A bird hopped out of a holly bush, startling Ellen.
‘God! What was that?’ she exclaimed.
‘It’s only a bird,’ Chris laughed. ‘A feathered one. What did you think it was? A ghost . . .’
‘Come on, let’s walk quicker past this place.’ She speeded up her pace.
‘Scaredy-cat,’ Chris teased, throwing an acorn at her.
Ellen laughed, the smile curling around her lips, brightening her eyes. He was incorrigible.
‘Oh Ellen, it’s great to be with you again. We had fun sometimes, didn’t we?’ His tone was wistful. He stopped and drew her close to him.
‘Yeah, we did,’ Ellen said sadly, laying her head on his shoulder. They held each other tightly.
A man, shoulders hunched, hands shoved into his greatcoat pockets, walked past them, breaking the moment. They resumed their walk around the gardens. Eventually they came to Socrates’ statue. Chris struck a pose.
‘Stop it, you idiot.’ Ellen laughed in spite of herself and then exclaimed in delight at a bed of bachelor’s buttons, their little buds peeping out. It was an uplifting sight. Small hints of spring were everywhere. They’d watched a squirrel gambolling under the trees and Ellen had seen the tips of daffodils bursting through the earth. Her own were coming out at home. It cheered her up.
They strolled along the riverbank on the path that led to the Rose Garden. The rolling grounds of the Holy Faith Convent bordered the river on the other side, and in the lowering dull afternoon the great red-bricked convent on top of the hill made Ellen think of Rebecca’s Manderley or Scarlett’s Tara or some such place.
‘The views from the windows up there would be nice, wouldn’t they?’ Ellen remarked.
‘Not half as nice as the view from where I’m standing,’ Chris averred.
Ellen threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘You’re as flowery as ever, Wallace.’
‘I was just paying you a compliment, Munroe,’ Chris retorted sulkily. They came to the green iron bridge that crossed the sludgy dank Tolka to the Rose Garden. Ellen picked up a twig, threw it into the river and leaned over the bridge to watch its progress.
‘It’s a pity the sun’s not shining. We could figure out the time on the sundial. That was always one of our treats when we were kids.’ She smiled, watching her twig float out from under the bridge and over the little waterfall.
‘Fuck the sundial, Ellen.’ Chris twisted her around to face him. ‘Look, we have to talk properly,’ he pleaded. ‘This walking on eggshells and polite conversation about views and sundials is driving me nuts.’
‘There’s nothing to talk about, Chris. It’s over,’ she said heatedly.
‘If it was over you wouldn’t be here.’ Chris stared at her hard.
There was a grain of truth in what he said, Ellen privately admitted. She could have turned him down outright. Why had she come? Why had she put herself in this position? Why was she letting him into her head when she’d promised herself she never would again? And why . . . the biggest why of all . . . had she jeopardised what she had with Doug? He was right. She was a fool.
‘Look, Chris, I shouldn’t have come. I don’t really know why I did. I’m going home.’
‘Ellen, please . . . please don’t go until you’ve heard what I have to say. You owe me that much at least.’
‘I owe you nothing,’ she said sharply.
‘All right then. You owe me nothing. I treated you like dirt, I admit it. Please. Just listen to what I have to say.’ He guided her into the sheltered little circular shrubbery opposite the bridge and led her to the wrought-iron seat. The camellias had buds on them already, Ellen noted disconnectedly, trying to keep her wits about her.
Chris sat down beside her and took one of her hands in his. He stared at her earnestly.
‘Ellen, look, I know I have no right to ask but I have to. You’re on my mind night and day. All I want is for us to be together. Could you give me one last chance to make it up to you? I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. I swear it. I’ll be a father to Stephanie. We’ll be a family. You could come and wo
rk with me. We’d be a great team. You were always so interested in my work. You’re the only woman who ever showed any interest. Suzy hasn’t got a bull’s clue, nor has Ale . . . er . . . any of the others,’ he caught himself just in time. ‘You could be the office administrator. Just think how good it would be. Working together, living together. Ellen, it would be so good.’
‘But I’ve got my own business,’ Ellen murmured, stunned at his vehement pleading.
‘You could get someone to run it for you. Ellen, we were meant to be together!’
‘It’s too late, Chris,’ Ellen said gently. ‘There’s someone else in my life.’
‘Oh, Ellen, please don’t say that,’ Chris muttered. To her immense dismay, his eyes filled with tears and he buried his face in her shoulder. ‘I love you. I really do love you. Please don’t desert me.’ His body shook with sobs and Ellen, horrified, felt tears brim in her own eyes. She had no idea that he felt so strongly for her. None at all. She’d never in a million years have believed this of Chris.
‘Please, Chris, please. Don’t,’ she whispered in distress, wrapping her arms around him. This was awful. She hated to see him so tormented. It made her feel a heel.
‘Tell me you still love me,’ he urged. ‘Tell me you still have feelings for me.’
‘I do love you. I’ll always love you. There’ll always be that bond between us. But it’s different now.’
‘It’s not, it’s not. Let me show you.’ He raised red-rimmed eyes to hers and then kissed her wildly, passionately.
‘I love you,’ he muttered. ‘I love you. I want you. You must want me.’
‘Chris, stop.’ Ellen tried to disengage herself from him.
‘Jesus, Ellen, don’t do this to me!’ There was actual panic in his eyes. ‘Think about it. Promise me you’ll think about it.’
‘All right, Chris. I’ll think about it.’ She wiped the wetness from his face with her fingers.
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