Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Don’t let Paula talk you into anything.’ She wouldn’t be, she decided sleepily. She’d hear what Paula had to say and she’d make up her own mind. Then she’d write to Ronan and tell him all about it. Whatever Paula’s news was, it couldn’t be half as exciting as hers. Imagine being almost engaged to Ronan Stapleton. In a few years’ time her name would be Jennifer Stapleton. She said it aloud a few times just to test it out. It sounded nice. She was sure her parents would be glad for her. They liked Ronan very much. He’d be in Dublin with his sister Rachel by now. Lucky Rachel, Jennifer thought enviously. Not, she thought tiredly, that Rachel really was that lucky. From what Ronan had said about her, she had a dreadful time with that old tyrant of a father of hers. When Jennifer and Ronan had a house of their own, Rachel could come and live with them for a while if she wanted. It would get her away from her father and help her stand on her own two feet.

  She’d write to Ronan and suggest it. It would please him, Jennifer thought as her eyelids drooped.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  It was scorching, Paula’s flight was delayed and Jennifer sat flicking through a magazine in the arrivals hall in Malaga Airport. She was dying to see her friend. She couldn’t wait to tell Paula about Ronan’s proposal. It was very hard keeping it to herself. She was so happy she longed to tell everyone. She’d only tell Paula, Jennifer promised herself. The family would find out on her twenty-first.

  Paula, when she finally emerged through customs, looked stunning. She was wearing white jeans, a white T-shirt and dark glasses. She carried a large black holdall type bag on her shoulder that was emblazoned with the words Saint Tropez. She looked like a film star. Jennifer grinned, some things never changed.

  Paula had to look twice before she recognized Jennifer. ‘My God,’ she breathed. ‘Look at you! Look at the tan. You’re glowing, Jenny. You look fantastic.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘I’ve loads to tell you.’

  ‘Me too. Oh, Jenny, it’s great to see you. I’ve loads to tell you, too,’ Paula enthused. They hugged delightedly.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here, I’ve taken the day off.’ Jennifer led the way out of the airport and hailed a taxi.

  Paula gazed out the window in delight. ‘The skies are so blue. It’s lashing at home. Can we go to the beach?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘Don’t you want something to eat first?’ Jennifer asked.

  ‘No, no, I’m too excited. I just want to feel that sun scorching me. I’m so white and you’re so brown,’ she added enviously. ‘I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m not going to work in St Margaret’s Bay for the summer. I can’t believe I’m finished studying. I can’t believe I’m free,’ she exclaimed exuberantly. ‘It’s a pity I missed Ronan, did you have a great time?’

  Jennifer nodded. ‘Guess what, Paula? He’s asked me to marry him. We’re getting engaged on my twenty-first. You’re the only one I’m telling,’ she burst out.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Paula exclaimed. ‘I’m shocked.’

  ‘I know,’ Jennifer smiled. ‘I’m a bit shocked myself. But Ronan’s the one for me.’

  ‘I can’t let you out of my sight before you’re up to something,’ Paula teased. ‘I always knew you and Ronan would make a go of it. He was the only fella you were ever really interested in. You’re perfect for each other. I know you’ll be really happy.’

  ‘Ronan’s staying in America for a good year or two until he’s got all the experience and qualifications he needs. He’s gone into computers, so he doesn’t think he’ll have any trouble getting a job when he comes home. I suppose I’d better start thinking about getting a “proper” job after the summer.’ She made a face. ‘I love it here, though. I love the freedom of being away.’

  ‘Here comes your fairy godmother, your wish is my command. If you want a “proper” job that gives you the freedom of being away, I’ve got just the one for you,’ Paula declared. ‘Wait until I tell you my news.’ She sat back against the leather seat of the taxi that was now speeding along the coast road and turned to Jennifer, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘How would you like to be a courier?’ she asked.

  ‘What?’ Jennifer was stunned.

  ‘How would you like to be a courier?’ Paula repeated, grinning. ‘You know Helen works for this travel agency guy. Well he’s expanding his operations and he needs more couriers. Helen told him that I’d just finished a course in languages and that you’ve been working out here for a year and he immediately set up an interview for me. Which I passed with flying colours.’ She giggled. ‘He wants to interview you, but it’s only a formality really after what he’s heard about you from me and Helen. He wants us to do a training course and spend some time working in the office next winter and then be ready to take up work either on the Costa or Majorca next Easter. We get paid in Irish money, we have our accommodation paid for and we each have a car. That’s far better than most couriers, who are usually paid in local currency, only have scooters and some of them even have to pay for their own accommodation. What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think.’ Jennifer was flabbergasted.

  ‘Come on, Jenny. It’s a great chance. Kieran does Greece, Portugal, Italy, Malta . . . everywhere. We’ll get to see the world. Helen says he’s doing really well. He’s a dead nice guy. He’s very informal. He doesn’t act a bit like a businessman but he’s got a great business going. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Especially as Ronan’s not even at home. You might as well be working abroad as in Dublin for all you’ll see of him,’ Paula urged. ‘It’s ideal for us with our languages. And you know the Costa like the back of your hand by now. Kieran was very impressed by the fact that you’ve lived here. It’s perfect. You don’t want to end up stuck behind a typewriter in the Corpo or the civil service. Look at Brenda, for God’s sake! If that’s not enough to put you off, nothing will. Beth’s thinking of doing my language course and being a courier too. She decided after hearing about our job offer. The three of us could have an absolute BALL!’ Paula wheedled.

  ‘My parents would have a fit,’ Jennifer declared.

  ‘No, no they won’t. That’s the great thing,’ Paula beamed. ‘I called up to collect a parcel for you from your mother. There’s rashers and sausages and pudding and a tea brack and a Madeira cake in it for you. I was telling her about the job and she was pleased, because you’d be working for an Irish company rather than doing casual work. She thinks it would be a great way to see the world. I told her to talk to Helen and she said she would. And she’s going to talk to your da. Brenda was drooling at the mouth with envy.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘Poor Brenda, I asked her to come out but when she heard you were coming . . . I mean she didn’t think she could afford it,’ Jennifer amended hastily.

  ‘It’s all right, Jenny, I know what you mean,’ Paula said drily. ‘Brenda and I just rub each other up the wrong way, that’s all. Now forget about Brenda. What do you think? Are you going to take the job and have a life of travel and excitement or are you going to die of boredom in a nine to five office job? I know what I’m doing, but it’s up to you.’

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  ‘I wish it was over.’ Jennifer followed Paula off the bus and straightened her skirt. She was feeling a tad nervous. Her interview with Kieran Donnelly, managing director of Transcontinental Travel, was at eleven and although Paula had told her that he was very nice, Jennifer couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. It was her first serious job interview. The interview with Gillian Curtis and her spoilt offspring was nothing in comparison.

  ‘Maybe he won’t think I’m suitable for the job,’ Jennifer fretted as they walked towards the travel agency.

  Paula gave a tsk of impatience. ‘Will you stop it, Jenny! You’re getting yourself into a tizzy over nothing. Why wouldn’t you be suitable for the job? You speak fluent Spanish. You speak French. You’ve lived in Majorca and the Costa and you’re much more qualified for a courier’s job than I was when I went
for my interview. Kieran’s not a bit intimidating. He’s dead cool, it won’t be like an interview. Believe me.’

  ‘I just get nervous, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m telling you, it will be a doddle and then we’ve got lunch with Helen to look forward to,’ Paula reminded her.

  ‘You’re right,’ Jennifer said, fingering the gold cross and chain Ronan had given her. ‘I must give the appearance of confidence. First impressions are everything. Is my jacket creased?’

  ‘Your jacket is fine. Everything’s fine. You look très chic,’ Paula assured her. ‘I love it when you wear your hair in a French plait.’ A motorcyclist in a leather jacket and a black helmet roared past them, braked, and slowed to a halt a little further on. He turned and waved.

  ‘Do you know him?’ Jennifer asked.

  Paula had a big grin on her face. ‘Yeah, I know him.’ She quickened her pace. ‘That, Jenny, is Kieran Donnelly.’

  ‘You’re joking!’ Jennifer couldn’t believe that the tall figure astride the Harley-Davidson was the managing director of TransCon and Helen’s boss. She’d been expecting a suave sharp-suited yuppie type. They came abreast of him as he removed his shiny black helmet.

  ‘Morning, ladies,’ he greeted them.

  ‘Hi Kieran, this is Jenny Myles. Jenny, Kieran Donnelly.’ Paula made the introductions.

  ‘Hi Jenny. Pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand.

  ‘Hello.’ Jennifer smiled as they shook hands. He had lovely dark smiling eyes. He didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidating or stand-offish. Jennifer decided she liked him immediately. He was young to be so successful, she mused, observing the tall well-built man sitting astride the powerful bike. Paula had told her that he was in his late twenties. His thick chestnut hair was mussed from his helmet. It gave him an endearing boyish air. He had a strong tanned face and an aura of confidence and self-assurance that belied his casual laid-back appearance.

  ‘I bet you’re wishing you were in Spain today,’ Kieran said as the cold wind lifted dried dead leaves and swirled them along the street. A spit of rain gave a foretaste of showers to come. ‘I’ll see you inside, Jenny. Don’t get wet.’ Kieran pulled on his leather gauntlets and re-fastened his helmet. The drops of rain got heavier and she and Paula ran for the shelter of the agency while Kieran zoomed down a side alley to get to the car park.

  ‘I told you he was nice, didn’t I?’ Paula said triumphantly as she led Jennifer through a carpeted foyer and along a wide corridor lined with offices. There was a great air of hustle and bustle about the place. A buzz of activity that made Jennifer’s adrenalin flow. She wouldn’t mind being part of this at all, she thought happily.

  ‘Hi Jenny.’ Helen came out of one of the offices and smiled broadly as she saw the girls. ‘Kieran’s not in the office yet. But he’s arrived. I heard him down in the car park,’ she said drily. Helen did not approve of the Harley-Davidson.

  ‘Who’s taking my name in vain?’ Kieran rounded the corner and strode towards them. ‘Hi Helen, sorry I’m late. That meeting with the car hire firm went on longer than I thought. Am I in your bad books?’

  ‘Go away, you chancer! You knew very well Miss Johnson was scheduled to have a meeting with you before you both interview Jenny. I’ve rescheduled it for two this afternoon, because you have a meeting with Matthew Lynch from the insurance company in forty-five minutes.’

  ‘That was kind of you, Helen,’ Kieran said drily. ‘Come on, Jenny, let’s go into my office before I’m overwhelmed by my secretary’s kindness.’

  He led her into an airy bright office dominated by an enormous mahogany desk and worn leather chair. ‘The desk and chair were my dad’s. I took over the company when he died,’ Kieran said when he saw Jennifer looking at them.

  ‘It’s a fine desk. Mahogany really stands the test of time, doesn’t it?’ Jennifer stroked a finger along the smooth polished grain. ‘When I lived in Spain I saw beautiful antique furniture. I’d love to have brought some home,’ she said wistfully.

  ‘Maybe you’ll get your chance yet.’ Kieran smiled. To her surprise he motioned to a sofa in the corner of the room. She’d expected him to sit behind his desk. ‘I much prefer informal interviews,’ he explained. ‘Will you have a cup of coffee?’

  ‘I’d love one, thanks,’ replied Jennifer feeling much more relaxed. ‘Black, no sugar.’

  He poured four cups of coffee from a percolator on a small side table in the corner of the room. ‘I always bring Helen out a cup around this time if I’m here. It’s really to try and keep in her good books so she won’t arrange a plethora of meetings for me to go to. But it doesn’t work.’ He laughed. ‘What does Paula take in hers?’

  ‘She takes it black too,’ Jennifer said, deeply impressed that the managing director of TransCon did not expect his secretary to make his coffee and that he made hers.

  ‘Tell me about Spain while we’re waiting for Miss Johnson to join us,’ Kieran said a few minutes later as he sat down beside her on the well-worn sofa.

  ‘I loved it,’ Jennifer enthused and, as if she was chatting to a friend, she told him about Majorca and the Costa and how beautiful they were outside the tourist haunts. ‘Andalucia is beautiful. The mountains, the orange groves, the scenery. If I was a courier I’d try and get people to spend some time in the real Spain, even if they only left the resorts for one day. Just to see that there’s more to Spain than sangria and paella and pubs and cheap cafés,’ she was saying vehemently when a tall well-groomed woman knocked and entered the room. She was elegantly dressed in a tailored suit. Her make-up was flawless. She was in her thirties, Paula had said. But her stern-faced appearance belied her age.

  Kieran stood up. ‘This is Miss Johnson, our personnel manager.’

  ‘How do you do, Miss Myles. If Mr Donnelly is agreeable, we will start the interview immediately. I have a meeting shortly and I like to be on time for my meetings,’ she said frostily, with a cold glance in her boss’s direction. ‘I’ve brought your file with me. May we start?’ She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Kieran’s direction.

  ‘Certainly. If you care to go through Jennifer’s CV, please. Would you like some coffee before we start?’ Kieran asked politely.

  ‘Thank you, no.’ Miss Johnson was not to be bribed with coffee, even if it was Bewley’s freshly ground and roasted.

  She sat on a high-backed chair, her spine ramrod straight, and scanned the CV in front of her. Soon the questions were coming thick and fast. Jennifer answered to the best of her ability, aware that Kieran was listening intently.

  ‘You worked in Majorca as an au pair. How is it you did not furnish references from your employer there? I know we have one from the owner of the bar you worked in, and one from your headmistress. I would have expected you to include one from the woman who employed you last year,’ Miss Johnson said.

  Oh hell! thought Jennifer in dismay. ‘I thought two references would be sufficient, it generally is. So I got one from my most recent employer, after all, I worked for him far longer than I did for Mrs Curtis.’ If she had to get a reference from Gillian, she could forget the job. Gillian would most certainly tell her to take a running jump. It was just as well she’d got a reference from Mother Andrew prior to the débâcle in Majorca.

  ‘Two references are perfectly adequate,’ Kieran interjected firmly. ‘And I think from what I’ve heard that Jennifer is very much the type of person we are looking for.’ He eyeballed Miss Johnson. She held his gaze.

  ‘It is a very responsible position. We need someone who is willing to work hard and shoulder responsibility. The customer is always right no matter how wrong he or she is. Our couriers must have tact, diplomacy and a great deal of patience—’

  ‘As well as warmth and enthusiasm,’ Kieran interrupted with a smile. ‘I think we’re very lucky to find a candidate with all of these traits. I’m very impressed with your languages and experience of Spain. To have someone who knows both Majorca and the Costa is an added bonus. Don’t
you think so, Miss Johnson?’

  ‘Indeed,’ the personnel manager said tightly.

  ‘Great then. I won’t delay you any longer, I don’t want you to be late for your meeting.’ Kieran uncoiled his long legs and stood up.

  ‘And we have one this afternoon. I hope you’ll make this one.’ Her sarcasm was unmistakable.

  ‘Oh rest assured I will, Miss Johnson. I wouldn’t miss it,’ Kieran said coldly, and for the first time Jennifer saw the steel in him. He might seem laid-back and casual but there was no doubting his authority when he spoke in that tone of voice.

  ‘Very well.’ Miss Johnson closed her file. ‘Shall I tell Miss Myles of her pay and conditions or will I leave that to you?’

  ‘I’ll attend to that.’

  ‘I’ll see you on the training course, Miss Myles,’ Miss Johnson said stiffly.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Jennifer murmured as the other woman stalked out of the room.

  ‘I inherited Miss Johnson. I think she thinks my interviewing methods are unorthodox, to say the least. But I prefer informality if possible. I think when people are relaxed you get a better sense of them,’ Kieran said calmly. ‘And my sense of you, Jennifer, is that you’ll make a great addition to the team I’m building up. So if you care to join us in TransCon, the job is yours. What do you say?’

  ‘I say I can’t wait, Mr Donnelly.’

  ‘The name’s Kieran. My door is always open if you have any problems or suggestions or just feel like a chat.’ Her new boss smiled broadly. ‘Welcome to TransCon.’

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  ‘Modulate your voice, Jennifer. Pitch it to the people at the end of the bus. Stop gabbling, please. You want your clients to be able to hear and understand the information you are giving them. Do you understand?’ Jennifer nodded.

  ‘Yes, Miss Johnson,’ she murmured.

  ‘Good, now begin again.’ Jennifer could see Paula eyeing her sympathetically as she began once more to give her introductory speech to the rest of her colleagues, who were pretending to be tourists on a foreign holiday.