“Let go of me!” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks now.
“No! For the love of God, Holly, I’ll hardly even be there. It’sonly for a few weeks!”
“I can’t,” I sobbed, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t believe you’re moving in with her.”
“And I can’t believe you’re being so unreasonable!”
“Unreasonable?” I screamed at him. “Unreasonable?You’re moving in with her. How fucking reasonable do I have to be? In God’s name, Oliver, I can’t fucking take this anymore!”
“Well, do you know what? Neither can I.”
He let go of me and stepped back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not the only one under pressure here, Holly. Let’s just forget it.”
I froze, my stomach feeling like it might hurl itself onto the footpath.
“You mean it? You want to break up?”
“No. I don’t. But I’m sick of feeling like the baddie in all of this. If I don’t feel bad about her, I feel bad about you. Quite honestly, I’ve had it.”
I looked at him. He was white, and very, very angry-looking.
“Oliver, I –”
“You know what annoys me the most, Holly? I didn’t have to tell you about this. You’d never have known. But I was trying to do the right thing. I thought, best thing to do is just to tell her. More fucking fool me, because nothing is ever enough for you, is it?”
“Now, come on, you can’t blame for me for being upset!” I couldn’t believe the direction the evening had taken. It was like a nightmare.
He wanted to break up with me.
“Yeah, well, I’m upset too!” he shouted at me, stamping his foot, for all the world like a toddler about to throw the mother and father of all tantrums. “But it has to be all about you, doesn’t it, Holly! I wouldn’t mind but I had other news for tonight and, now, well, there’s just no point, is there, because there’s just no pleasing you these days!”
“What news?”
“Forget it. I’ll drop you home and we’ll just leave it at that, alright?”
“Oliver, please.” I couldn’t leave it like this. I hated rows. I especially hated rows that were turning out to be all my fault.
“No, Holly, please. You’re right. This isn’t working for you. And it’s a pity, because we only had to muddle through for three more weeks. That was all, Holly. Three weeks.”
“What are you talking about?”
He scratched his head as if wondering whether to tell me or not.
“I was talking to Jeff Peterson in New York this morning. I don’t know if you know him or not, but he’s heading up this new division. I met him last year at a think-in. Anyway, he has a job for me, if I get manager.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I cried, forgetting my tears in my excitement.
“I’m not meant to tell anyone yet! It’s all hush-hush. He’s agreed not to say anything to Dublin in case it affects the promotion. But look. Forget it. We tried. It didn’t work. I don’t blame you for wanting out.”
“I don’t want out,” I whispered, “you know I don’t.”
“No, Holly, there is no point in you pretending. If it’s too much for you, just say it. I won’t bother you again.”
I reached up and held his white, tense face in my hands.
“I can handle it. I promise.”
But he looked away, his jaw still tense with fury.
I reached up to kiss him. And then, almost reluctantly, he kissed me back, softly at first then hungrily, then crushing me against the stone wall of the building behind.
“You are killing me, Holly Green,” he muttered hoarsely between long, passionate kisses. “Like seriously killing me.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks again, only this time tears of relief.
It was happening. New York was really happening.
His hands were in my hair now, grabbing fistfuls, tearing my head back.
“Oliver – wait!”
We were on a main street, after all.
“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he said, still kissing me as he bundled me along.
“Hey!” I squealed. “What about dinner!”
“I’ll get you McDonald’s on the way home.” His voice was hoarse.“Now get yourself into that car before I change my mind.”
Chapter 31
“What could you possibly have to tell me that’s so funny?” Dawn asked as she opened the door.
“I’m sorry, but it’s definitely a story that needs wine,” I giggled, going past her into the kitchen.
Graham was away again, and Mark was home. This kind of night was starting to mean only one thing.
Drinkies with Dawn!
She went straight to the fridge.
“You know,” she said, uncorking an ice-cold bottle of white, “when the evenings get longer we’ll have to start going walking instead of sitting in my sitting room drinking wine or we’ll end up being twenty-stone alcoholics!”
My smile froze.
I wouldn’t be here when the evenings got longer. I’d be back in New York.
“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked, noticing my change in mood.
“Oh nothing,” I said, trying to think on my feet. “It’s just that maybe Mark will have got sick of me by then.”
“Well, hopefully not. Anyway you’ll hardly be a million miles away if he does, will you?” She laughed. “I’ll just have to hand over the reins to Graham and meet you somewhere!”
Hope you like flying.
“I suppose.”
“Anyhow, why would Mark get sick of you – aren’t you his lifesaver?”
I started to giggle again. “After last night, he might not think so anymore!”
“Come on! Spill!”
I took my glass of wine from her and we went into the sitting room. Sinking down in her beautiful cream couch I could feel my good humour coming back.
“Well, it happened last night. At about ten thirty I heard his phone ring. I was actually still downstairs, in the sitting room, watching TV. He was up having a shower. Anyhow, I heard him answer it and next thing he was hopping around upstairs like a lunatic, getting dressed.”
“Oh really, and how do you know that?” Dawn teased.
“Because a) he’s not exactly light of foot, and b) by the time he got downstairs he was still half naked.”
“What?” Dawn squealed. “Now that’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing!”
“Oh please!” I wrinkled my nose in disgust, though I still couldn’t stop the flush coming to my cheeks. There was no denying that the sight of Mark crashing down the stairs naked to the waist had been pretty impressive. For someone who couldn’t have had time to work out, he had an amazing physique. Giant shoulders, broad chest, tapering down into the flattest stomach and . . .
Of course what had happened next wasn’t long in banishing all of those thoughts from my head.
“Anyway, there he was rushing around trying to find an ironed shirt. And of course all the laundry was still in the kitchen.”
“An ironed shirt? Why in God’s name was he being so fussy if he was in a hurry?”
“Well, it was Hannah Tuttlebury-Smythe on the phone, you see.”
“Lady Smythe? Wow! Is he her vet?”
“Yes, she’s his biggest client. A bit high maintenance apparently, though she seems to adore him.”
“Why wouldn’t she? Can’t see anyone else being at her beck and call twenty-four hours a day!”
“True.” I started to giggle again. “Anyhow, there he was hopping around the kitchen, trying to ask her exactly what was wrong, all the time trying to find something decent to wear. And he kept saying, ‘Colic, are you sure you think it’s colic, Lady Hannah?’ And he was on one leg trying to get on his boot, and his shirt was halfway over his head.” I paused to catch my breath. “And I could actually hear her screeching at the other end. And for a second, he took the phon
e from his ear and hissed at me to ring Fenton – that Lady Smythe’s stallion had colic and that he’d better get the surgery ready and call in the nurses. So I had just picked up the house phone to ring Fenton when . . .” I could hold back the laughter no longer.
“Oh come on! Finish the story!” Dawn was on the edge of her seat, puzzled that I could possibly find a story about a sick horse so funny.
“When I heard him ask had they been walking him, and she obviously said ‘Yes, around the house’ because he said in a strange tone, ‘Around the house? Well, I suppose, anywhere that you can . . .’ and then I heard –” I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“What?”
“I heard him roar ‘Calpol!’”
“What?”
“I know! And he shouted ‘Jesus Christ, Lady Hannah – why would you give a horse Calpol?’”
The look of puzzlement on Dawn’s face was hilarious.
“And then he stood still, his shirt half on and half off and he said, “Lady Hannah, let’stake it from the start. Who exactly are we talking about here? And when she answered he said very slowly, ‘Who, might I ask, is Tristan?’”
“And what did she say?”
“It’s her grandson!” I shrieked.
“What? Her grandson?”
I nodded. “She was baby-sitting, and it was him that had the colic.”
“Oh! That kind of colic!” The penny dropped with Dawn. “Even still though, why would she ring the vet about her grandson?”
“She wasn’t!” I screeched. “She was looking for me!”
“Oh. My. God.” Dawn was open-mouthed in amazement.
“Apparently her housekeeper had heard in the village that I knew all there was to know about babies and when she couldn’t get Tristan to sleep she rang looking for me. Of course Mark was panicking so much when he heard ‘colic’ he totally missed the bit where she asked for me.”
“Oh Sweet Jesus, what did you do?”
“What could I do? He just looked at me and handed me the phone. And I got to talk to Lady Hannah about her colicky grandchild.”
“Oh God,I can’t believe it!”
“I know! Oh, it wasn’t funny at the time but I haven’t been able to stop laughing since.”
“Is he really cross?”
“I don’t really know – you know Mark, he kind ofhas only one facial expression. Anyhow, it was hardly my fault. He just left the room and I’ve hardly seen him since.”
“He’s probably mortified.”
“I doubt it. I wouldn’t say Mark does mortification.”
“Oh God, I think that is the funniest story I’ve ever heard!” Dawn sank back into the couch. “Wait till I tell Graham.”
“Where is he anyway?”
“London. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh. He really is away a lot, isn’t he?”
“I know. But I don’t mind at the moment. It will all have to change once –”
She was interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing in my pocket. I took it out and looked at the display, not recognising the number I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Holly? Is that you? It’s Kelly. I’m outside your apartment but there’s some guy in there and he says he doesn’t know who you are!”
Chapter 32
For the seventh time that morning I ran up the stairs with a handful of clothes and toys. I’m not sure why I was so concerned that the place be tidy – it’s not like any of that kind of stuff mattered to Kelly.
Yes, my sister was coming for lunch. Turns out she had a meeting about setting up a new shop in Kildare and was only too happy to stop by for lunch en route. Great. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved to be seeing a friendly face or petrified at what she was going to say to me. Because I could do a lot of things, but I couldn’t lie to my younger sister.
When she’d phoned the night before, I’d looked open-mouthed at Dawn standing in front of me, not knowing what to say.
When I eventually pulled myself together I said “Hang on, Kelly.” Then I hurriedly excused myself to Dawn and left.
I leaned against the wall outside Mark’s house.
“Kelly, I’m not in Dublin any more. You’d better sit down . . .”
At the end of my sorry tale, she’d insisted on coming down to me and so here I was, cleaning like a dervish in advance of her visit. Like a tidy house was going to make my ridiculous situation look any less ridiculous.
At exactly twelve the front-door bell rang. I looked out the window and despite all my nervousness my stomach leapt with excitement at seeing Kelly’s cherry-red Mini Cooper in the driveway.
“Woohooo! She’s here! Come on, Amber, come and meet my little sister!”
I flung open the door and there she was. My darling sister. Slightly shorter than me, and ever so slightly plumper, she hadn’t changed much from when she was six. The masses of ginger curls that had prompted the nickname ‘Little Orphan Annie’ were still there in profusion as were the dancing eyes and cherubic lips.
“Well, look at you,” she grinned. “Did I ever think I’d see the day that you’d open a door to me with a child on your hip!”
“Oh, don’t start!” I had to laugh. “At least not until you get inside the front door. Some of us have to worry about the neighbours, you know.”
“Hang on – I come bearing gifts.” Kelly ran back to the boot of the car and took out a large bag.
“Ooooh – samples?” I squealed with excitement.
“Do I ever let you down?”
She stepped into the hall and looked around.
“Oh, interesting colour scheme . . .”
“Don’t talk to me! I thought Mum’s was bad.”
“It is. If Tatler ever gets hold of Mum’s sitting room, my reputation is ruined.”
I laughed, feeling all the tension of the last few weeks leave my body. Having Kelly sitting at my kitchen table was great, even if she did have a grinning Amber sitting on her lap.
“I suppose you’ve had the Chad reminder?” I asked as I put on the kettle.
“Yes, almost daily at this stage. I hope nothing of major consequence happens between now and Friday that the Late Late decide to run a whole show on. Mam will go mental if they cancel Chad. But anyhow, enough about him. Explain all this to me again?” She waved an arm around the small kitchen. “You’ve really done it this time, haven’t you?”
“Hey! You’re hardly in any position to lecture me, seeing as you haven’t dated a man the legal age for years.”
“Now, now,” Kelly adopted a prim look, “I’ll have you know that my current squeeze is twenty – well above the acceptable age.”
“Marginally above, Kelly. Remember you’re twenty-seven. You definitely only get away with this because Mum doesn’t know.”
“Oh, could you imagine? Though all she’d be worried about is whether he’d be after my money.”
“And is he?”
“Holly, I won’t lie, my bank account is looking quite healthy, but if a couple of packets of Marlboro and a pint of cider is what it takes to keep that delicious boy happy, then I’m happy enough to contribute.”
“Kelly Green!”
“I know – I can hear the advertisement now . . . ‘This is Adam . . .’” She changed her voice to an exaggerated, low, serious, tone. “‘For just two euro a day, you could keep this penniless student in your bed and grateful . . .’”
“Kelly! It’s so not fair! You’re way more morally depraved than me!”
“I am. But I’m also ridiculously successful.” Kelly flicked her red curls. “And I think I could shag the President himself in full view of Ireland and my mother would forgive me at the moment.”
“Why, what have you achieved now? Go on, don’t hold back on my account.”
“Oh nothing much, just that you might want to watch the English papers tomorrow. I believe Kate Middleton is going to be carrying one of these!” She reached into the bag and pulled out a large umbrella embellished with
her now famous KG logo.
“Oh, you bitch!” I squealed. “How did you manage that one?”
“Oh, Paulo knows people who know people. I don’t get involved in all that business stuff.”
Paulo was Kelly’s long-suffering business manager, a dishy Italian who clearly adored the ground she walked on.
“Good old Paulo. The brand will go through the roof after this.”
“So he says,” she sighed, trying to look nonchalant, “but you know me, I’m all about the art.”
“Go away, you don’t fool me!” I flicked a tea towel at her and she giggled. “So when are you going to give up those boys and make an honest man of Paulo?” I asked.
Kelly sighed. “Oh, some day. He really is the love of my life, you know, but the boys are so much fun – they let me do lots of stuff that Paulo wouldn’t approve of. Anyway, look how good I am with children?”
She was right. The usually rambunctious Amber was still sitting quietly on her lap, by now happily going through the contents of Kelly’s rather large, multi-pocketed handbag.
“There’s nothing in there she might put in her mouth and get high on, is there?”
“Not today,” Kelly grinned.
“You are incorrigible, Kelly Green.”
“Eh, hello, Miss Hiding-down-the-country-as-a-nanny!” she shrieked. “This Oliver guy must be some piece of stuff.”
“He is – even Mam would approve if she met him. He’s good-looking, successful, charming . . .”
“See, that’s the difference between you and me, Holls – you worry too much about what Mam would think. I couldn’t give a hoot.”
“That’s easy when she thinks the sun shines out of your arse!” I bit back indignantly.
“Oh whatever! So does this mean you’ll be around for Christmas? Please say it does . . .”
“Well, the plan is that we’ll be in New York for Christmas so probably not.”
“Oh Holly, go after Christmas! Stephen’s Day if you like – just don’t leave me with them on my own!”
I giggled. “They’re all yours, sweetie. You should bring what’s-his-name – Adam – I’m sure we could arrange for Santa to bring his presents there.”
“Oh stop! Can you imagine the look on Marsha’s face? Though I suppose he could keep the twins company!”
Between You and Me Page 21