Not What You Think

by Melissa Hill

  “What?”

  “Well, you said yourself that you weren’t into the big white wedding thing, and all the hullabaloo surrounding it . . .”

  Nicola smiled. Those were her words exactly. “So?”

  “So why not just go away and get married, then – in the Caribbean, or Las Vegas, or something like that.”

  “Are you serious?” Nicola grinned, realising that he had come up with a perfect solution. If they went away somewhere and got married by themselves, then both sets of parents could be kept apart, and there would be little or nothing to organise.

  “And maybe Jamie and Helen, and Laura and Neil might be tempted to come with us,” said Dan.

  She was sure the gang would jump at the chance. Jamie and Helen took foreign holidays on a regular basis, and although Laura and Neil Connolly hadn’t been together all that long, Nicola was sure they would be thrilled to travel over for her wedding.

  Maybe her mother might be a little taken aback, and disappointed that there would be no Big Day, but Carmel had raised her children to be completely independent, and Nicola knew that her mother would support her in whatever she wanted to do.

  She laughed as Dan engulfed her in a huge hug, and swept her off the ground.

  “That’s settled then!” Dan said, and Nicola laughed as he whooped for joy. “The Caribbean, here we come!”

  Chapter 16

  HELEN STOOD ALMOST transfixed outside Brown Thomas.

  That dress! Well, if you could call it a dress, Helen thought. It was Issey Miyake, daringly short – black and silver-embroidered at the bust. It was demure, but very sexy and would look just amazing with her newly bought, silver strappy heels. Not quite right for a wedding, but Paul would absolutely love her in it, and probably, Helen thought with a grin, love her even more out of it.

  Lately, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face and Helen felt better than she had in years. She and Paul had met a number of times since that first wonderful afternoon in the hotel and, each time, the sex was becoming more intense. It was crazy, they hardly knew one another, and yet it was as though they were in perfect sexual synch. Twice they had planned to meet for lunch, and twice they had ended up in bed at Paul’s place in Ranelagh, unable to even think about food. And today, Paul had rung Helen at work and asked her to meet him for ‘lunch’ tomorrow. Helen didn’t know why he even bothered pretending that it would be lunch.

  “Afterwards, we could try your place for a change of scenery,” he had said, in a tone that had Helen already shifting in her seat.

  But Helen wasn’t prepared to have him stay at her apartment, not yet anyway. She needed to see how things went first, and whether or not she and Paul were as well matched personally, as they were physically.

  Not to mention the tricky subject of Kerry.

  Paul knew as little about Helen as she did about him, and they had barely got round to discussing their jobs, let alone their family situations.

  No, Helen thought, imagining Paul’s reaction to her in that dress, there was no point in saying anything about Kerry until the time was right.

  She gave a quick glance at her watch. Six twenty. It was late-night shopping, and Jo had agreed to keep Kerry until seven o’clock, to give Helen a chance to pick up something for Laura’s wedding.

  Right. She’d go in, try on the dress, and maybe have a quick run-around. She’d be a little late collecting her daughter, but Helen had to have that dress. Yes, it was expensive, but sometimes a girl just had to treat herself, didn’t she? And what was the point of having these feel-good endorphins gushing around your insides if you couldn’t enjoy them? It wasn’t all that long ago that she was miserable, so she might as make the most of her current mood. Helen raced into the store, conveniently forgetting about her shoe blitz in Office only a week before.

  But Brown Thomas was no place for a ‘quick run-around’. Once inside, Helen was dazzled by the fantastic array of clothes, handbags, and as for the shoe basement – God – it was almost indecent! By the time she left the store almost an hour and a half later, Helen had picked up a cute Marni handbag, another pair of Jimmy Choos (but these would go with just everything), and probably the entire Agent Provocateur Spring/Summer Collection. And because she would now almost certainly be late collecting Kerry, Helen had raced downstairs to the perfume and make-up department, and chosen a 30ml bottle of Gucci Eau de Parfum for Jo. There was something terribly indulgent about buying anything Gucci, she thought, handing over her credit card and idly wondering if maybe she should get a bottle for herself while she was at it No, she decided firmly. Enough was enough. Although she could do with some new make-up and Ruby & Millie did some amazing lipsticks . . .

  By the time Helen reached Jo’s house near Cornelscourt, it was well after eight.

  “I’m so sorry, Jo,” Helen started with the explanations as soon as she got out of the car. The front door was open, and as she approached, Helen knew by her expression that Jo was very annoyed. Shit! “The traffic was crazy and –”

  “Helen!” Jo interjected angrily. “I told you that Pete and I were going out for an anniversary dinner tonight. The only reason I agreed to keep Kerry late was because you promised me you’d be back by seven, and you told me you were desperate!”

  Helen stopped short. She had never even heard Jo raise her voice, let alone bite her head off. Still the perfume would pacify her, wouldn’t it?

  “Hold on a second, Jo,” she began. “It’s not as though I was late on purpose. I told you that the traffic was mental and there was no way I could have got here by seven.” She looked behind Jo in the hallway. Where the hell was Kerry? After a day like Helen had at work today, she just wasn’t able for this tirade. At this stage, she just wanted to just grab her daughter and run. “Oh, and I got you a present,” she added, quickly holding out the tiny Brown Thomas bag.

  “Really?” Jo drawled, completely ignoring Helen’s peace offering. “The traffic was mental, was it? So how come my husband, who works on the Northside, left the office at six, and was well home by seven?”

  Helen cringed inwardly. Shit – she’d forgotten all about Pete.

  “Jo, look, I promise I’ll make it up to you, OK?” she began quietly. Maybe honesty was the best policy here. “I was in the centre of town and it was very busy, and I just didn’t notice the time going and –”

  Jo’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t notice the time going! In other words, you just didn’t bother your backside leaving town until you were good and ready.”

  “No, no, that’s not it at all.”

  “It is it, Helen Jackson. It’s always it with you. Honestly, only for the fact I adore that daughter of yours, I would have told you exactly where to go a long time ago!”

  Helen stepped back. Where was all this coming from?

  “Jo, I was only a half an hour late –”

  “Try an hour and a half, but that’s not the point, is it? You’re always late, Helen! You’re never here at five, and then you flounce in all excuses for being late, but no apology for putting us out. Then in the mornings you call too early! Jesus, Helen, if you’re not interrupting our dinner, then you’re interrupting our breakfast by dropping her off at all hours of the morning! But then again, we’re lucky if you remember to collect her at all!”

  Helen reddened. Jo was referring to that first afternoon Helen had met Paul.

  She had been so dazed and so euphoric after their afternoon together, she had driven straight home in another world, almost forgetting to pick up Kerry. And of course at the time, Helen had to open her big mouth and jokingly admit to an unimpressed Jo that she had almost forgotten.

  “Now, hold on just a minute, Jo. That was only one time and –”

  “But it shouldn’t happen, Helen!” Jo lowered her voice, and glanced behind her in the hallway. “Look, I asked Pete to keep Kerry occupied, because I didn’t want her to hear any of this when, and if, you called. She’s upset enough as it is.”

  “Jo, that’s not fair
.”

  “Helen, of course it’s not fair. It’s not fair to that poor little sweetheart in there who absolutely adores you, but doesn’t get anything in return! Do you realise Kerry spends most of the day telling us, in her own sweet way, what Mummy does and what Mummy says! But we can see the worry in her eyes when five o’clock comes around and Mummy’s not here yet. Your daughter is as good as gold, and she genuinely worships you, but you don’t realise it. You don’t realise what a blessing that child is and how any mother, any normal mother would be so proud to have her as their own.”

  There were tears in Jo’s eyes, and Helen knew that she was no doubt getting maudlin over the child she herself had miscarried last year. Still, there was no need for her cheek and downright rudeness towards Helen, who, after all, paid her handsomely for the privilege (or so it seemed) of looking after Kerry!

  Helen’s expression was hard. “I’m very sorry that you feel that way, Jo. However, you seem to have conveniently forgotten that I pay you for looking after my daughter – you’re not doing me any favours. And I’m not stingy with Christmas presents or any other kind of presents for you. That is Gucci perfume, Jo! And how many times have I asked you if I can get you anything when I’m going into town?” Helen crossed her arms across her chest. “Funnily enough, I thought you and I were friends. How was I supposed to know you were pissed off at me for turning up late to collect Kerry? You never said so.” What did Jo think Helen was, some kind of mind-reader?

  “For God’s sake, Helen –”

  Helen put up a hand to silence her. “No, no, we might as well have it out here and now. As Kerry seems such a trial to put up with, then you won’t mind me taking her off your hands for good.” That’d change her tune, Helen thought, knowing that Jo and her husband Pete weren’t exactly rolling in it. They relied on Jo’s childminding to keep them going.

  “That’s fine, Helen.” Jo said shortly. “Because that’s exactly what I came out here to tell you. I don’t want to take Kerry any more, and God knows it has nothing to do with the child. It’s you, Helen! You and your blasted selfishness, and the way you treat her! It breaks my heart to see her struggling with her speech like she does, and I know damn well that your attitude isn’t helping.”

  “How dare you? What the hell do you know about bringing up a child?” she said nastily. Jo winced, but Helen didn’t back down. “Yes, you think you know it all, don’t you, sitting on your backside every day watching Marty Whelan on the telly while your husband goes out to earn a crust Well, you know nothing about it, Jo. You know nothing about having to work long hours, and your fingers to the bone to keep that child in the luxury she’s used to!”

  Jo gave her a sceptical look. “Your fingers to the bone? Helen. You have a professional manicure twice a month, so fearful are you of messing up your nails. So don’t play the martyr with me!” She turned back inside. “I’m going to say goodbye to Kerry now, and goodness knows I don’t want to. If it were up to me, I’d probably put up with all your carry-on just for the pleasure of spending time with that wonderful little girl. But Pete has put his foot down.”

  “Well, Pete can bloody well lift his foot back up again, before I stamp on it!” Helen said shakily to Jo’s retreating back. “And I’d never have left any of you near my daughter in the first place, had I known you felt that way about me!”

  Just then a grim-looking Pete appeared in the doorway. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t carry on like a fishwife on my doorstep, Helen.”

  “Oh, well, excuse me!” Helen stormed. “I’ll wait in the car, and when you and Mrs Sanctimonious are finished ‘saying your goodbyes’ you can send my daughter out to me.”

  Pete shook his head. “You know, I feel sorry for people like you,” he called after her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I feel sorry for people who don’t appreciate what a wonderful gift it is to have a child, especially a child like Kerry.”

  Helen rolled her eyes. “Spare me the sentimental rubbish, Pete,” she said, getting into the front seat and slamming the driver door.

  A few minutes later, a tearful Kerry joined her in the car. “J-J-J-Jo don’t w-w-want to m-m-mind me any more, Mommy,” she said, her bottom lip curling.

  Helen started the engine. “No, Mommy doesn’t want Jo to mind you any more, pet.”

  “Then w-w-who –” Kerry tried to take a breath, but was so upset she couldn’t get the remainder of the sentence out.

  But Helen knew exactly what she meant.

  “I don’t know who’ll mind you from now on, Kerry,” she answered grimly, thinking of her upcoming lunch with Paul, “but we’ll have to find someone.”

  * * *

  The following afternoon, Laura soldered the last freshwater pearl onto a thin strand of silver wire. Then, holding it carefully with a tweezers, she lifted one of the silver coated leaves she had painstakingly fashioned the week before, and positioned it at the base of what now was beginning to look like a tiara. It was so delicate though; Laura knew it wouldn’t tolerate any abuse. She’d have to make sure the hairdresser at home was gentle with it on the day of the wedding.

  Next, she would begin work on her own and the bridesmaid’s neckpieces, as well as a smaller replica of her own tiara for Kerry. It was just as well that she had all that to do, she thought with a sigh, because there was precious little else.

  Laura Connolly Jewellery Design hadn’t taken off with quite the fanfare Laura had expected. Not that she really imagined everything would just fall into place, and that people would be climbing over themselves for her designs. It was just that after a few weeks in business, she thought there might have been some interest. She had invested a lot of time and money in the sample packs she sent to the jewellers and gift stores, and had followed some of them up with timid phone calls, enquiring as to whether or not they were interested in stocking her. But the response so far had been dismal.

  Laura didn’t really mind initially, because she was so excited and enthusiastic at the prospect of actually having time to get stuck into her designs. In the beginning, she often lost herself in her work, and the days would be gone before she knew it. Days whereby the phone might only ring once or twice, with either Neil or the girls wondering how she was getting on. And Laura was getting on fine, she was getting on wonderfully, she was coming up with all sorts of ideas, and was trying lots of different designs and lots of different materials.

  “But have you sold anything yet?” Helen asked, in her typically direct manner.

  And Laura had to admit that no, she hadn’t sold a thing. She hadn’t even had a single enquiry. Apart from that big order on the internet.

  Laura cringed when she thought about it now. How could she have been so stupid? She had logged into her email one morning, and was thrilled (and relieved) to find a huge order for a selection of items from one of her key ranges – namely the silver ethnic-style chokers and matching bracelets. Laura had put the (considerable) amount through the credit-card terminal, and had spent all day and most of the night crafting the additional items she needed to fulfil the order.

  Neil was delighted for her. “What a boost!” he had said. “And imagine someone all the way from Indonesia ordering from you!”

  The customer had sent Laura a follow-up email, asking that she ‘overnight’ the order, and that she should charge the additional expense to his credit card. Thinking that he must really be keen, Laura had done so, and had sent the entire order off to Indonesia with an astonishing sense of achievement. Things were finally starting to happen.

  Her sense of achievement was very short-lived. One day soon after, she received a letter from Amex Credit Card Services, explaining that the transaction was invalid, and that the full amount would be charged back to her business account.

  Laura had phoned the credit-card centre, almost in tears. “But how could it be invalid?” she asked. “The terminal authorised it – twice!” With dismay, she thought not only of the cost of the order, but the expensive co
urier charges.

  “Well, it appears that your customer was using a stolen card, dear.” The bank’s representative was terribly sympathetic. “Unfortunately, if the transaction is through email, you have no way of knowing if the person ordering is the authorised user.”

  “But the payment system on my website is completely safe. It’s encrypted – there’s no way anyone could –”

  “Unfortunately this has nothing to do with website safety. The person involved gained possession of a stolen card. How, we don’t know. But in the absence of a signature . . .”

  And that was it. Laura had lost not only some of her most expensive stock, as well as the staggeringly expensive overnight courier cost, but she had also lost a great deal of confidence.

  In fairness, Neil was great at keeping her spirits up. “Well, you should just chalk it up to experience, and be that little bit more cautious the next time,” he had said.

  “Maybe now is the time to concentrate on fine-tuning your product range, and getting your stock built up, to sell directly to suppliers. Who knows, when you are busy, you mightn’t have any time to spend on actually making the things!”

  But Helen had suggested a different approach. “Get out on the streets! Talk to the store managers face to face. Don’t hide behind a telephone call,” she urged Laura. “I’m betting they haven’t even seen your designs – the staff probably took one look at them and thought ‘great, a freebie’ and took your gorgeous handcrafted earrings home with them. To have any hope of selling any product, but especially your products, you have to get them in front of the right people.”

  But Laura couldn’t bring herself to start doing that, not just yet anyway. It was all right for Helen; she was a natural saleswoman, good-looking, flirty and unashamedly confident. Laura wouldn’t know what to say; she’d more than likely end up causing more harm than good, her potential customers wondering what on earth was that eejit mumbling about? Anyway, they could always visit the website if they wanted to see what her designs were like.