Champagne Secrets

by Amanda Brunker

  As if he already knew the answer, he asked sorrowfully, ‘Will you stay?’

  ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why, does Maura refuse you admission if you’re home too late?’

  ‘Ha! No, it’s not like that. I’ve just got things to do in the morning, that’s all.’

  ‘You can use my toothbrush if you’re worried about morning breath.’

  ‘You are so sweet to think of me, but, no, that’s not going to swing it. Listen, next time I’ll stay. I promise. Now call me a taxi, please. This Cinderella needs to get home.’

  ‘Hmmm, OK, just this once. But if you want to be a fairy-tale character, I might just have to make you my own Rapunzel by locking you up here in my little castle. And then you’ll have to let your hair grow really long if you want to escape.’

  ‘Well, maybe I won’t want to escape. And, maybe, I might want to stay here for ever? How would you like that fairy tale?’

  ‘Sounds like the perfect happy ending to finish off my other happy ending …’

  13

  ‘Grab your dancing shoes, baby … I’m bringing sexy back. Yeah!’

  ‘Go away, it’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘It’s gone nine o’clock.’

  ‘Exactly. I’m gay, and I’m grumpy anything before noon. You should know that.’

  ‘I do, but I thought it would be worth suffering your mood to give you some good news.’

  ‘OK, I’m sorry, I’ll start over, if you please … And, good morning to you, Miss Sex, Drugs, Camera, Action. What has you so perky at 9.15 a.m.?’

  ‘That’s better. Well, I’m very happy to announce that I’m coming home tomorrow morning. Daisy has her appointment with her specialist, she got a last-minute cancellation at the Blackrock Clinic, and, wait for it, Michael even paid for our return flights home. So, where you gonna take me tomorrow night? I want dancing, I want drinking, I wanna make gossip!’

  ‘Oh-my-God! You can’t come back tomorrow.’

  ‘Eh, not the reaction I was hoping for. Why not?’

  ‘Because I was supposed to be having a surprise night of romance with Jeff. I have a hotel booked. Facials, champagne, the lot!’

  ‘And it was going to be a surprise?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, that’s cool, then.’

  ‘Why, exactly?’

  ‘Cause he won’t get upset about what he doesn’t know about. Take me on your surprise date instead. Come on, please? You know you wanna.’

  ‘But what about Jeff?’

  ‘Buy him a big ball of feckin’ wool and he can make love to that for the night. Oh, come on, please, please, please? I’ll love you for ever.’

  ‘Steady on. I’m allowed to slag him. You’re not. Jesus, of all the weeks, Eva. Let me see. How about the three of us go?’

  ‘Three is kind of a crowd, Parky.’

  ‘Well, then, let’s rope Lisa in, and it’ll be just like old times. How does that sound?’

  ‘Dangerous and exciting all mixed into one. Yay! Thank you. I’m sorry for gatecrashing, but I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Mmmm, not that much, I reckon, judging by your most recent text message about Roar-y!’

  ‘Indeed, my interests have been captivated by another man, that much is true. And he’s even told me he’s smitten, so I think I might have found me a keeper.’

  With that, I could hear Parker falling about the place with laughter at the other end of the phone.

  Giving him some time to settle himself, I asked, ‘Have you finished? When you have, you can tell me what’s so funny.’

  ‘You, ya mentaller,’ squealed Parker, through more sniggers.

  ‘Why, because I haven’t told him the whole truth, and—’

  ‘You mean ANY truth.’

  ‘OK, so there are a few holes in my life that I haven’t filled in yet, but we’re still at the getting to know each other stage, so—’

  ‘You’re delusional, Ms Valentine. You have to tell the man. And soon. It’s not fair on either of you if things are going as well as you say. Hello? Are you still there?’

  Not liking having the obvious pointed out to me, I let Parker hang on the phone for a bit. I wanted to tell him to shut up and mind his own business, but I couldn’t. He was right, but like an ostrich I had stuck my head in the sand. I still didn’t want to face up to the reality that I was going to have to tell a man who was mad about me that I was a liar. Biting my tongue, I chose to ignore Parker’s last comments and asked, ‘Will I ring Lisa, then?’ I hoped he’d move on from the issue as well, because it was still too early in the morning for him to speak, never mind argue.

  Parker took the easy option and simply replied, ‘Yes, please.’ With so much left unsaid, he rushed me off the phone, claiming he needed caffeine, and I was left with just my guilt and too many unanswered questions floating around my head.

  As I sat alone with my thoughts, I asked myself how high the chances were that Rory would forgive me. And which should I tell him about first: my false name, undercover work or Daisy? And, of course, then there was the Tanya and Issey story as well. Oh, and the small matter of possibly being hunted down and murdered in the near future. Wishing I could turn back time to that first moment he had asked me, ‘What is it that you do?’ I imagined myself telling him that I was a divorced single parent, and that I wore a hidden camera in my hair to expose drug-dealers and petty criminals. And then I imagined watching him scrunch up his face, excuse himself to the toilet and walk off into the distance – for good.

  Travelling with Daisy was a dream. You often saw stressed-out mothers screaming blue murder at their kids to sit in buggies, but I never had that problem. There was never an occasion when I needed to raise my voice, or use bribery or make threats. Daisy just wanted to be near me, and would travel to the end of the earth with a smile on her face once I, her mammy, was holding her hand.

  On the Aer Lingus flight home I must have seen and nodded at five or six people that I knew from Dublin, and all of them seemed to smile back at me with a strained look on their face. As paranoid thoughts started up in my head, I put the funny looks down to my new blonde do, and assured myself that not everyone was aware that I was a cowardly cheat. Besides, it was such a relief getting away from England. After a perfectly uneventful flight, our cases were some of the first few to emerge out on to the carousel, and we were just breezing out to the taxi rank when my luck, and my good mood, suddenly changed.

  ‘Hiya, Eva,’ screeched an all-too-familiar voice from behind me. ‘Honey, it’s Anna, how are you?’

  Trying not to look too disappointed, I turned around to see an old – or should I say former – friend from the social scene, Anna. Once upon a time we used to be partying pals, back in the days when I was still hanging around with Maddie. Although Anna could be great fun, she had always had a dangerous gossiping tongue, earning her a nickname, ‘Reuters’, that she shared with the international news agency. Of course she eventually told one too many secrets out of turn, and had since been shut out of the inner circle by Parker, Lisa and myself for safety reasons. But since we had never officially told her to take a long walk off a short pier, her brass neck allowed her to ignore the obvious and poke her nose into our worlds whenever she got the opportunity. ‘Hey, Anna. What has you at Dublin Airport so early?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve been working for a small independent radio company lately, and, well, they think Tiger Woods is landing into town today to play golf at the K Club, and I’m here to try and get a few words out of him.’

  ‘Wow! That’s exciting.’ I pretended to show interest, but she didn’t even listen, just ploughed ahead, looking for gossip as ever.

  ‘So you’re back in Dublin then, yeah? And this is your daughter? Oh, she’s …’

  Not looking for a deep conversation about Daisy’s condition, I interrupted her then by saying, ‘Yes, she’s great, thanks. We’re home for the weekend. A few things to do, and then it’ll be back to London.’

&nbs
p; Instantly I knew I had opened up a can of worms by mentioning London, and she straightaway began firing intrusive questions at me. ‘So who are you working for over there?’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

  ‘Oh, and did you know Michael and Maddie have split up?’

  Stunned by her questioning, I was just about to ask her, ‘What the hell?’ when Ronan Keating and his wife Yvonne walked past us at a quick pace, with several newspaper types running after them.

  Catching Anna’s eye, a frustrated-looking photographer complained, ‘He’s the fucking celebrity golfer!’

  Trying to hide my amusement, I teased, ‘That’s not much of a scoop, really, is it? “Ronan Keating arrives into Dublin” shocker!’

  Shooting me an evil glare, Anna asked her photographer friend, ‘Are you sure?’ To which he nodded and replied, ‘He told us inside he’s here by invitation of Michael Smurfit, and is heading to the K Club to play golf with him this afternoon.’

  After a tense few minutes – Anna temporarily lost her cool and I had to ask her not to curse so much in front of Daisy – I offered to share my taxi into town. I didn’t necessarily want to breathe the same toxic air as the woman, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity of hearing all the latest dirt on Michael and Maddie. I had only spoken to Michael the day before to get details of the specialist at the Blackrock Clinic, and he hadn’t given anything away about things being rocky with himself and Maddie. But then again, why would he?

  Once we were all safely strapped in we asked the driver to take us to Ballsbridge first, so we could off load Anna, and then I simply told him, ‘We’ll have another stop after that,’ so I wouldn’t give any further information away for her to use. During our ride across the Liffey I learned that the depression that Maddie had suffered after the baby had come back, and that she hadn’t been working much lately. I was curious to know if Anna had heard of Michael cheating on Maddie, as he had blatantly flaunted his philandering ways in front of me during a chance meeting when Maddie had been pregnant.

  However, all Anna would say was, ‘There’ve been as many transgression rumours as there have been around Tiger Woods. But I’d hate to pass on any gossip unless I knew it as fact.’

  Fighting the urge to send a smug text to Michael, I tried to focus on our daughter and all the questions I would need to ask the specialist. After some more idle chat about various folk from the social scene, I waved Anna off and told her, ‘It was great to see you.’ Which, amazingly enough, didn’t cause nausea, as she had truly shortened the journey and distracted me from the appointment ahead of us.

  Having never been to the Blackrock Clinic before, I felt like we had stepped into a plush hotel rather than a private hospital, and that for once Michael had finally done right by his child. Despite the comfortable surroundings, however, there was no way of disguising the professionals for Daisy. She was always nervous of strangers, and the sight of a table full of medical equipment – the syringes in particular – sent her over the edge. Her terrified whimpers were heartbreaking. Somehow finding the strength of a child three times her age, she struggled to break free from my grasp, and no amount of singing her favourite nursery rhymes was going to pacify her. Once the blood sample had been taken, we were both exhausted and full of anger. Daisy of course vented her rage at me for putting her through such torture. Meanwhile I cursed Michael over and over in my head for all the pain he had caused us both.

  On the plus side, Daisy’s specialist had seemed hopeful that Daisy’s tests would come back negative. Since Daisy had been through some operations before without any sort of complications, the specialist reassured me that this condition would probably have showed up before, and that from just a quick, surface examination she seemed to be thriving.

  Neither a ‘star patient’ sticker nor a sticky lollipop would prove a long-term fix for the damage Michael might still bring about, and if the gossip was true it seemed we weren’t the only family he had now abandoned. It was hard to figure out my feelings about such a split. Was I happy? Probably a little, though for all the wrong reasons. But while I still harboured a lot of anger at my former best friend Maddie for stealing my husband away from me, I still loved her and missed her, and knew that Michael couldn’t have gone unless he had wanted to leave.

  Feeling a little giddy in the taxi back to Terenure, en route to my parents’ house, I texted Michael, asking if by any chance he wanted to see Daisy. Of course his reply came back, ‘I’m busy today,’ which left me let down once again, and even less inclined to cope with my mother’s usual welcome of abrasive questioning and generally grouchy demeanour.

  By three o’clock I had reached my limit with her. So, handing her £200 of the Queen’s money, I told her to order the sofa bed from Cost Plus Sofas that she’d been dropping hints about, and asked if I could go out for a few hours to see my friends. Leaving Daisy happily cuddling on the sofa with my dad, I ran out the front door like a teenager escaping detention and hopped on the first bus that passed that could take me into town. Even though I had only been away just a short time, the journey past all the old landmarks was a nostalgic one, especially when I began to notice the many shops and pubs that had closed down since I’d last seen them.

  I had planned to meet the gang at six o’clock and head to the Shelbourne Hotel, but hadn’t mentioned it to my mother, who would have hit the roof and done her usual complaining along the lines of, ‘I am not an open babysitting service. You can’t just walk in here and abandon your daughter with me … blah … blah … blah.’

  The best plan would be to text my dad later giving him the news that I was going to stay overnight, and then he could deal with the grief. Thankfully her irritability didn’t bother him. He had the ability to zone her out and ignore what she was saying, while nodding, supporting and calming her at the same time. It was this trick that enabled him to still happily live with the woman, otherwise he would have gone potty years earlier. He would quietly joke that their marriage was his prelude to sainthood, but we all knew that he loved her very much despite her shortfalls, and that he depended on her completely. To an outsider they might look unhappy, but in fact, in their own way, they were both deeply contented, which goes to prove the theory that there is always someone for everyone.

  By the time I’d arrived at George’s Street, I stepped off the bus a new woman. Deciding to leave all my emotional baggage on the 19A, my swagger returned as I hit the fresh air, and I was determined that no ex-husband nor grumpy mother was going to keep my spirits down. To avoid suspicion, I had only left the house with some necessary toiletries, so with time to spare and money in my pocket I headed straight down the George’s Street Arcade and enjoyed some leisurely clothes-shopping in a couple of my old favourite boutiques.

  With several too many bargains under my arm, I skipped off to the Shelbourne to change in the toilets and beautify myself, and then cosied into a corner of the Horseshoe Bar with a glass of white and a couple of glossies, including YES! magazine, for entertainment. I had barely flicked past the perfume and luggage adverts at the front of YES! when a text from Rory beeped through on my phone, reading, ‘Hey sexy. What U doin?’ With a big smile across my face, I texted back, ‘Drinkin & relaxin. Wot U doin?’, taking a large gulp of my wine with the excitement. Several texts later, I had established that Rory was stuck on a motorway due to bad roadworks. He texted that despite the traffic, ‘I’m almost overwhelmed with that Friday feeling!’ Curious as to what he was so excited about, I asked, ‘Should U not B pretending to be sad, now that I’m out of the country?’ His reply, ‘But I’m in YOUR country!’ nearly made me collapse off my seat. Not trusting my eyes, I read his text over and over before biting the bullet and ringing him. His phone had barely rung once when his smooth voice answered, ‘Hell - lo?’

  ‘Are you serious? Are you in Dublin?’

  Sensing that I was prickly rather than overjoyed, he answered slowly, ‘Emm, yes. Is that OK?’

&n
bsp; ‘But what are you doing here?’

  ‘Ehhh, well, I came to surprise you. So surprise!’

  Needing another mouthful of wine, I decided to take a big gulp while deciding how to answer him.

  ‘I thought you’d be happy,’ Rory said. ‘I’m only here for the night, but I thought it would be nice to hang out with some of your mates. Would you prefer if I turned the taxi around and headed back home?’

  Realizing that my hot boyfriend was about to be seriously offended if I didn’t offer up some positive words of encouragement, I blurted out, ‘Don’t be silly. This is great. I’m in the bar at the Shelbourne, so I’ll see you when you get here.’ Panicked, I immediately rang both Lisa and Parker and left frantic voice messages telling them to call me Alice when they got in, as Rory had turned up in Dublin unannounced. Fearing the worst, I imagined all the possible dangerous situations we could encounter while hanging out in Dublin, and ordered a double vodka and 7 Up to calm my nerves.

  By 5.50 p.m. I had received texts from both Parker and Lisa telling me to stay cool and that they’d be in within the hour, and had my breath taken away as Rory walked through the door brandishing a massive bunch of red roses. Looking like a Hollywood heart-throb, he strode straight over to me, making everyone in the small bar turn to look, and getting down on one knee asked, ‘Please don’t be angry with me. I just wanted to spend time with you. That doesn’t make me a bad person, does it?’

  Slapping him over the head with one of my magazines, I told him, ‘Get up before you make an eejit out of yourself!’ and kissed his adorable face with enthusiasm, to show him that I cared. This was undoubtedly one of the most romantic gestures a man had ever made for me. Was this guy for real? After he complained that his lips were going to chafe, I agreed that my own chin was becoming raw from the bristles on his beard, so we stopped kissing and I asked, ‘And what if I hadn’t answered my phone?’