Between You and Me

by Margaret Scott

  “Bitch!” he said again.

  “Prick!” I answered, matching his tone exactly.

  And with that he returned to the car and, to my absolute relief and amazement, came back with a chequebook.

  “You’ll take half,” he snapped.

  “And have to come back and do this again next week? Tempting and all as that sounds, I think I’ll pass thank you very much.”

  He glared at me again but the cheque he handed me was for the full amount.

  “Now, get the fuck out of this man’s way.”

  “Sorry, no can do yet.”

  “Why the fuck not?” he roared.

  “Because this is a cheque, Mr Baron. Worth nothing until it’s lodged.”

  With that I got out of the car and went around to the boot, and Dawn did the same. By now the trucker was looking at us in total amazement.

  I opened the boot, thanking God that the car Mark had given me was an estate, and took out Emma’s old bike.

  “What the –”

  Dawn took the cheque from me, fastened her jacket and hopped onto the bike.

  “Won’t be long!” she trilled as she cycled off. “I used to work in the Maynooth branch myself, so they’ll be very nice and helpful to me!”

  I turned to the truck driver.

  “Look, I’m really sorry for the inconvenience but, please, let me make it up to you – have a cup of tea and a bun.”

  The truck driver looked at me open-mouthed and then burst out laughing.

  “Do you know what, love, I will. I’ve never seen the like of this before. Sorry, mate,” he turned to an apoplectic Ger Baron, “but these girls have made my day.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up!” Ger Baron was now hopping up and down with rage. “I’ll fucking stop that cheque, that’s what I’ll do!” he roared.

  “No, you won’t, Mr Baron,” my voice was quiet and level, “or I’ll be on to my friends in the Revenue and you’ll rue the day you didn’t give the measly fifteen grand to the vets.”

  All he could manage was another howl of “Bitch!” before he got into his car and drove back up the driveway.

  I dreaded to think of poor Dorry up in the house and what she’d have to listen to for the rest of the day.

  But more than that, I tingled with excitement when I thought of what Mark would say when he heard our story.

  Chapter 48

  I thought I’d burst with excitement when Mark came home that evening. However, I managed to wait until the children were in bed before I handed him the lodgement slip.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Read it.”

  “I am reading it, but what is it?”

  “A lodgement slip. For fifteen thousand, eight hundred and ninety-nine euro.”

  “But it’s lodged into the practice account!”

  “It is.”

  He studied it again to see what he could be missing.

  “Hang on – is this – no, it couldn’t be . . .” He looked at me, frowning in total puzzlement.

  “It is.”

  “But how?”

  So I sat him down and told him the whole story, from start to finish.

  “So you parked your car across his driveway until he gave you a cheque. And you brought a bike to cycle to the bank to lodge it.”

  “Yes, well, Dawn used to work in that branch, so she was able to pull a few strings.”

  He sat looking at the slip and for a second I thought he was annoyed.

  Oh crap, I couldn’t have messed up again, could I?

  Then he stood up and came around the table to my chair.

  “Stand up,” he ordered.

  Double crap.

  I stood up.

  With a whoop he wrapped both arms around me and spun me around the kitchen.

  “Mark!” I squealed.

  “You beauty!” he roared, still swinging me in a giant bear-like hug. “We have been trying to get that money for so long! You fucking absolute beauty!”

  “Eh okay, you can put me down now.” I was scarlet with embarrassment at his arms being around me once again, but not enough to actually force myself from his grip.

  “Oh sorry!”

  He released his hold and I slid to the ground.

  But then, still whooping with excitement, he insisted on giving me whatever cash he had in his wallet – a surprisingly sizeable amount – as a bonus.

  “Buy yourself something. Buy a dress, something pretty, something for you!” he said, for all the world babbling like an excited child.

  And I took the cash. After all, I’d a funny feeling I was going to need it in Naas the next day . . .

  Yes, I’d finally managed to persuade Dawn that my quest for ‘the dress’ did not necessitate a trip to Dublin. Firstly, I was petrified I’d bump into someone I knew, and secondlyI knew that, despite the brave face that Dawn was insisting on showing, she no more felt like a trip up to busy Grafton Street than I did. We also had the minor problem of having two children with us as really, with Dawn’s current difficulties, getting them minded was a complication we could do without.

  So Naas it was, although I predicted that I had not chosen the low-cost option.I knew from the Irish fashion magazines in Kutz n Kurls that there was one shop in particular – Mustique – that even Dublin ladies seemed to flock to, so this was to be our first port of call. Dawn was bemused at the fact that I was even considering a frock from Mustique as an option and I knew by her smirks that she was not buying my theory that it was only because I hadn’t spent a penny on myself in so long.

  However, to be fair, it turned out her tastes were as exclusive as mine and, despite all her teasing, she wasn’t for letting me settle for a jumped-up bridesmaid’sfrock in some awful shade of peach or aqua either.

  I longed to tell her about the Donna Karan navy silk gown still hanging in my wardrobe in Monica’s Perry Street apartment, or the Herve Leger sequinned bandage dress that I’d also left behind, but I doubted she’d buy a nanny having such an extensive wardrobe of Saks Fifth Avenue purchases.

  But it was nice that she shared my enthusiasm for finding the perfect dress, even if she didn’t quite understand my desperation. I’m not really sure I understood it myself.It had a lot to do with the fact that for six weeks now I’d been seen in nothing except jeans and tracksuit tops and this was my chance to show everyone that I was capable of so much better. Even the night where I’d pushed the boat out and worn the Alexander McQueen dress I’d managed to get myself stranded and just ended up looking ridiculous. All I wanted was one night before I went where I got it right.

  I tried to explain to Dawn how I felt.

  “Ah yes, but to impress who?” teased Dawn again, as we pushed our two buggies through the hallowed double doors of Mustique.

  But I didn’t answer. I was too busy heaving a sigh of relief at finding the right shop. Even just seeing designers I recognised on the rails meant the magazines were obviously right – Mustique was the place to go.

  “Have you seen the prices?” Dawn gasped in horror.

  “Just don’t look!” I hissed back at her as, head high, I approached the glamorous sales assistant, almost expecting a Pretty Woman moment of disparity. But to be fair, Lola, as she introduced herself, was to turn out to be very pleasant and helpful.

  “A dress for a ball,” she headed over to the rails, “and let me guess – you’re probably an 8 to 10?”

  I froze – suddenly rethinking my stance on this Lola girl. I might have put on some weight but not two dress sizes! Then just as I was about to voice my disgust I remembered she was referring to UK sizes – phew!

  “Yes, that’s right,” I answered sheepishly.

  “Any price bracket in mind?”

  Dawn opened her mouth but I interjected with a firm “Price not a factor,” before she could say anything.

  What followed was a most enjoyable hour of sumptuous fabrics, jewelled hues and complete luxury. Even Amber was over-awed by all the different dresses an
d sat, remarkably well behaved, in her buggy for the entire process.

  “Holly pwetty!” she even gurgled when I arrived out from behind the curtain in a pink frothy creation that I’d tried on to humour Dawn despite my protestations, but I had definite ideas of what I wanted and pink froth was not on the list. By now I’d tried on half a dozen frocks and while at least three would have been fine, I still hadn’t felt that wow moment.

  Chapter 49

  “Coo-eee, it’s me! Let me in, I want to see the end result!”

  I smiled as I heard Dawn screech through the letterbox. She was definitely more excited than me about this night out.

  Which was saying a lot, because I was pretty excited.

  “Oh Holly,” she gasped when I opened the door, “it’s stunning!I mean, I know I loved it in the shop but I actually can’t believe how good you look.”

  “Hey, easy now, do I look that bad normally?” I tried to pretend to be cross but I was delighted with her remarks.

  When the helpful Lola had come across the shop floor with the forest-green David Meister dress, I knew instantly it was everything I was looking for. Cut on the bias from silk jersey, when I put it on it draped over one shoulder and scooped down very low on my back, skimming over my hips and flowing down to pool at my ankles. She had then brought out some gold sandals and a gold clutch bag and I instantly felt like a movie star.

  “No, of course not, but you look so different – I mean – look at your hair!” Dawn gasped.

  “Oh, yes, I’ve gone back to my roots.” I turned to look in the hall mirror.

  I was pretty pleased with my hair too. I’d finally had to make a decision about my precious highlights, and that morning, in Kutz and Kurlz, I’d kissed them goodbye and let Maisie take me back to my natural red colour.I’d then let her loose with a few hair clips and the result was a half-up, half-down tumble of curls over one shoulder. I had to hand it to her: it looked kind of alright.

  And yes, there was no denying the fact that my mother might well have had a point – dark red hair suited me far better, making my brown eyes seem huge in my pale face.

  In fact I was far paler all over on this night than I’d usually have been on such a night out. With my new hair colour, I didn’t need the oceans of fake tan that I’d always have used before. Instead, I’d used just enough to take the blue hue from my arms and chest, the dark green dress suiting the alabaster, rather than tangerine, look.

  “So, where’s Mark?”

  I turned back towards the mirror, in case Dawn saw me blush. It was crazy, but I couldn’t wait for Mark to see me all dressed up. To be fair, he’d seen me at my worst enough times. But despite my panic to be ready before he arrived home, there was still no sign of him.

  I rolled my eyes, “At work of course – he should be back shortly.”

  “Damn, I was hoping to catch sight of him in his tux.”

  You and me both.

  “Any news about Graham?” I askedto distract from my second blush in as many minutes.

  “Not really. Of course, he wants to come back.I’ve had his mother on the phone practically every day. I think she did everything short of sticking him on the Naughty Step when he told her what happened, but now of course she wants me to give him another shot.”

  “And will you?”

  “Oh Holly, I don’t know what to do. Of course I want to but what’s to stop him from doing it again? I can’t be with him twenty-four hours a day. I need more time. I need to know he’s serious.”

  “Well, I think you’re great – you’ve handled the whole thing far better than I ever could.”

  “I doubt that! You’d never let this happen to you, I know you wouldn’t.”

  I hadn’t the heart to disagree with her. After all, tonight was my night for forgetting every wrong thing I’d ever done, and having one night of fun.

  The front door bell rang and, just as I stepped out into the hall, the phone rang also. Gesturing to Dawn to get the front door I ran for the phone.

  “Holly, it’s Mark.”

  “Mark! Why are you phoning? Please don’t say . . .” My heart sank. I knew exactly what was coming next.

  “Holly, I’m sorry, I really am, I might make it yet, but I’m still in Lady Smythe’s. You go on without me. Is there any sign of Harry yet?”

  “He’s just arrived.” I almost couldn’t speak with disappointment.

  “Well, Harry knows Fenton, so you’ll be fine with him. If I can get there I will, I promise.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I had my doubts.

  I walked out to the hall where Harry was chatting to Dawn.

  Harry let out a long wolf whistle when he saw me, then realised that there was something wrong.

  “What is it?” he asked. “How can a girl that looks that good not be smiling!”

  “He’s not coming,” I said, ridiculously feeling like I might cry.

  “Typical,” said Harry. “Not to worry, it just means we can have a bit of fun now!”

  But for once, Harry’s chatter didn’t work. It had all been for nothing.

  “Oh my God – you’re really disappointed, aren’t you?” Harry’s eyes were wide with surprise.

  I shrugged.

  “Holly Green – snap out of it! We’ll have much better fun without boring old Mark! Has Uncle Harry ever let you down yet?”

  I smiled. He was right, it wasn’t the end of the world, and in fact a night out with Harry couldn’t be anything but a bit of fun. “You’re right,” I said, “and I have just the thing to kick-start the night.”

  I went to the fridge and took out a bottle of champagne. “Dawn, grab some glasses, and get one for yourself.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t!”

  “And whyever not? Daniel is with his daddy. Let’s have a glass each and then you take the rest home with you.”

  “Daniel?” Harry asked.

  “My son.” Dawn blushed. “He’s with his dad. We’re – well – we’re having some time apart.”

  “Oh, well, that definitely calls for some champagne!” Harry grinned.

  “Harry!” I chided.“Dawn is far, far too young for you!”

  “Ah yes, but she qualifies by not being available, which means her demands on me will be minimal – it’s a kind of little-used sub-rule in my book.”

  I laughed again, looking sideways at Dawn to see how she was taking the teasing, but thankfully she was smiling. Good old Harry – a bit of male attention was exactly what she needed.

  Before long, the bottle of champagne was gone and Dawn had dashed home to grab another.

  “It’s one we got for our last anniversary,” she giggled. “I’ve had it in the fridge for ages waiting for an occasion.”

  “Well, I think this occasion is definitely as good as any,” said Harry, with a hilarious air of solemnity.

  Soon that bottle too was gone and it really was time we were on our way.

  “Harry, we have to go!”

  “There’s plenty of time.” Harry dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

  “No, there isn’t. Fenton is expecting us and Mark will go mad if he finds out we were late.”

  “He can hardly talk, he’s not even going.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Now, will you kindly walk Dawn down to her house, and I’ll call a cab to get us to the hotel.”

  “Madam?” Harry proffered his crooked arm to Dawn who giggled in response.

  “I can’t walk down the estate on the arm of a man in a tux!” she squealed. “Bernadette Foley would have a coronary!”

  “I will simply tell her that I am Mr Mark Fielding’s new butler and that one of my duties is escorting drunken-abandoned-wives safely back to their marital home,” said Harry.

  In a chorus of giggles they wobbled their way from the house and I quickly rang a taxi.

  Less than twenty minutes later we pulled up at the hotel.

  “Wow!” I said as I spotted a crowd of ladies in beautiful dresses walk through the front door. “This is p
osher than I thought!”

  “It’s the Hunt Ball, my dear,” said Harry, extending his arm to help me from the car. “It’s like the Oscars, only far, far more competitive.”

  “But I’ve never hunted a day in my life! I shouldn’t be here.” I started to panic as I spotted several gentlemen in scarlet jackets, one even carrying what appeared to be a hunting horn in his hand.

  “I believe bargain-hunting counts,” Harry whispered in my ear and I laughed.

  “I totally qualify so!”

  My eyes widened as we entered the hotel, which had really pulled out all the stops in the preparation for the night. Huge Christmas trees were erected in the lobby, laden with heavy golden-and-scarlet bows. I resolved to tell Mark that we hadn’t been the only ones with our tree up early.

  We threaded our way through the crowds, acquiring two glasses of complimentary champagne from a waitress on the way, until eventually Harry spotted Fenton and Marian at the far side of the room.

  “You must be Holly!” Fenton was a handsome older man with a huge smile. “We’ve heard so much about you – not least that you are the best debt collector this side of Sherwood Forest!”

  “I think I was just lucky this week,” I smiled. “But it’s lovely to meet you too. Where’s Tara?”

  “She’s with Mark, of course,” said Marian, rolling her eyes. “The two of them stuck out in Lady Hannah’s!”

  “Typical!” Fenton boomed. “I don’t know how many times I’ve warned him not to let her take advantage, but he won’t listen.”

  “I think that’s a severe case of pot and kettle, darling,” his wife interrupted. “Holly dear, my name is Marian, and I know exactly how it feels to be stood up in the name of veterinary science.”

  I smiled. “Well, I’ve only been stood up by one of my dates,” I said. “Harry has been doing a very good job of looking after me so far.”