Two For Joy

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘The pits. Half staff. Guests complaining because their rooms weren’t ready on time. I hate this time of the year.’ Lorna made a face. ‘And there’s a staff meeting tomorrow. Something’s going on. Freddie Murphy looked really worried today.’

  ‘He’s the manager. It’s his job to look worried,’ Carina drawled.

  ‘Something’s up,’ Lorna reiterated. ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘You were right,’ Carina whispered the following morning as the manager made the shock announcement that the hotel was being taken over and would close for at least three months for renovations, after which staff would be notified if they were to be re-employed by the new company. They were being given two weeks’ notice as of today.

  Lorna listened to the speech and felt totally irritated at being out of control. It bugged her that unknowns had the power to make decisions that affected her life. She couldn’t say that she was desperately upset at leaving the hotel. She’d been feeling bored lately and since her disastrous relationship with Bryan she’d felt the urge to start afresh somewhere else. She wouldn’t mind living somewhere nearer town, around the IFSC or the new docklands developments, she thought dreamily.

  ‘Well, bugger this,’ Carina scowled. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m going to New York. A friend of mine is out there and she’s making a fortune waitressing—’

  ‘Waitressing!’ Lorna turned up her nose.

  ‘Don’t be a snob, Lorna. Who cares when the money is great? Are you coming?’

  ‘But don’t you need visas and all of that stuff?’ Lorna felt a flicker of excitement. New York! City of dreams. What could be more exotic than living in New York? Fifth Avenue, Tiffany’s, Gucci, Armani, Saks! So her. She was sure of it. And she’d have someone to go with, she wouldn’t be on her own. She didn’t think she’d ever have the nerve to go to New York solo.

  ‘You can stay for three months on a tourist visa. I’d stay there longer if I could but Fiona, my friend, said that after 9/11 they’ve got really strict on illegals. A friend of hers came home and couldn’t get back in. But just think, we might meet two millionaires and marry them.’ Carina grinned. ‘Park Avenue, here we come.’

  ‘I’d love to live near Central Park—’

  ‘Get real, Lorna, we won’t be living in Manhattan, we’ll be commuting,’ interjected Carina dryly. ‘Unless you’re in a rent-controlled apartment, and they’re like gold dust, renting in Manhattan isn’t for the likes of us.’

  ‘Maybe we could live in Greenwich Village or TriBeCa or somewhere like that. It doesn’t have to be the Upper West Side,’ Lorna suggested.

  ‘Lorna, you can go and pay a fortune on rent and come home penniless if you want to. I want to make a load of dosh and have a good time. Yonkers will do you fine. It’s one of the suburbs. Are you coming or what?’

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’ Lorna felt scared and excited at the same time. Maybe she might meet a Wall Street trader who’d fall madly in love with her; maybe this was where she was meant to be all along.

  ‘Right, I’m going to email Fiona and then you go check out flights,’ Carina ordered.

  ‘I don’t have a lot of ready cash,’ Lorna said doubtfully.

  ‘Sell your car. I’m going to sell mine,’ Carina retorted. ‘Your mam and dad will give you something, I’m sure. Say it’s a loan. They never expect you to pay it back. My dad’s always helping me out.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Lorna agreed. She’d sell the car for sure. When she got back from New York she’d have enough for a nice jazzy, sporty soft-top at least. She’d probably have a deposit for a place of her own too, she thought happily as she surfed the net to get flight details.

  Two weeks later she was jobless, and homeless. She and Carina had had to leave the apartment. Both of them were staying at their respective family homes for the next two weeks. They were flying to New York in the first week in February. Lorna was dizzy with excitement. ‘See you in a fortnight,’ she waved gaily as she loaded her belongings into the boot of her car. She looked up at the apartment. She’d miss it. She’d liked living in it. One day she’d own one a thousand times as posh, she assured herself. Every time she watched Sex and the City, or any programme with clips of New York, she felt she couldn’t wait to get there. As she drove out of the Marina and headed for home she felt as if her life was truly beginning. Living in Dublin was chickenfeed compared to what it was going to be like in New York. Let Heather moulder away in Kilronan with her hick boyfriend. They’d never amount to anything. Not like her. This was her big chance. Dublin hadn’t worked out for her. But New York would be a hell of a lot different. Lorna was going to make it big in the Big Apple.

  23

  Heather hummed to herself as she sorted a batch of new VRFs. Neil had had a delivery of six brand new cars and she was completing the paperwork on them. The sun was streaming into her office and she was as happy as Larry.

  She could see Neil out on the forecourt inspecting his new babies. She smiled. He was ambitious for his garage. It was great to see, and he couldn’t thank her enough for sorting out the business side of things. He’d badly needed sorting though, the place had been in chaos. He hadn’t even got a proper filing system set up. It must have been hard going trying to do everything. She was constantly on the go, answering phones, dealing with customers, arranging services, paying bills and wages and doing the dreaded VAT, but she’d never been as happy in her life, she thought happily, remembering their lovemaking of the night before.

  In the space of a month her life had turned around completely. She was back home in the place that she loved. She was in a job that she enjoyed and that challenged her. She was practically her own boss. Neil was more or less living with her, spending less and less time at his dad’s place. It was like a miracle. Everything had fallen into her lap without any effort on her part. God had looked most kindly on her, she thought, gratefully offering up a little prayer of thanks.

  ‘Aren’t they beauties?’ Neil barrelled through the door, eyes bright with satisfaction. ‘This is what it’s all about, Heather. I want you to send out the brochures to all our customers. I was thinking we could officially open Brennan Motors with a launch party. Invite local businessmen—’

  ‘And women,’ interjected Heather. ‘Half your customers are women, you should target them.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ agreed Neil. ‘What do you think? It would be a good excuse for a hooley, and I could do a special offer on the night for trade-ins.’

  ‘I think it’s a great idea. Who could we get to do the opening?’ Heather enthused.

  ‘I could ask Fintan Cullen—’

  ‘No. Not a politician, Neil. I really don’t think that’s a good idea because it might put people off, thinking you were associated with a political party. How about Lorcan Kelly from the Chamber of Commerce? He might have some good contacts for you.’

  ‘Good thinking again,’ Neil agreed. ‘Look, Oliver Flynn’s just pulled into the pumps. It’s time he changed his car, I’m going to work on him. I’ll leave you to organize the launch,’ he declared airily and then he was gone, leaving Heather a tad taken aback. He’d come up with the idea of the launch and she was the one left organizing it. Typical, but her adrenaline was flowing and she sat down at her desk and began to make out a list of calls she’d have to make. Lorcan Kelly being the first. She should ring around a few caterers to get quotes, and then she should organize invitations. And she had the brochures to send out. She’d get some invites printed up as fast as she could and include them with the brochures. Existing customers had to be looked after and made a fuss of.

  The day flew by. January was Neil’s busiest month with new car sales and by the time she closed her office and went upstairs to cook dinner for them she was tired. Neil always kept the showrooms open until eight, but came up to the flat long enough to have dinner.

  She chopped some onions and garlic and sautéed them in the pan before adding thinly sliced pieces of chicken. She let them sizzle away before add
ing a carton of cream and turned the heat down low. Thirty minutes later, Neil was sitting down to creamed potatoes, carrots and sweetcorn and tender chicken in a creamy sauce. He shovelled it into him. ‘This is scrumptious,’ he said, between mouthfuls. ‘Why don’t we invite Lorcan Kelly and his wife to dinner some night? He’d be someone to be well in with. It was a good idea to get him to do the opening. It shows the town we mean business.’

  Heather made a face. ‘You want me to cook? Couldn’t we go to a restaurant?’

  ‘Lorcan’s wife’s a bit odd. She doesn’t like eating out. So he has to entertain on his own a lot. But she might like a home-cooked meal. It would be worth making the effort to stay on side with Lorcan. You’re a great cook,’ Neil assured her. ‘This is very tasty.’

  ‘That’s only because you lived on chops and peas,’ Heather laughed. ‘I’m a very plain cook, Neil, I don’t know any fancy dishes.’

  ‘Do this. It’s lovely,’ he said. ‘We’ll wait until he’s done the opening and invite them.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ she demurred, hoping he’d forget the notion. Hosting dinner parties for strangers was not something she’d bargained on. Neil looked out the window when he heard a car draw up on to the forecourt. ‘Better go, I’ll have dessert later. Bring me a cup of coffee, would you?’ He jumped up, gave her a kiss on the cheek and left her to finish her meal alone with a sink full of dirty saucepans and dishes awaiting her attention. She finished her meal, did the washing up and made a pot of coffee which she brought downstairs.

  ‘That was a bloke looking for a second-hand Polo, I told him I’d look out for one for him. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow and see what’s on offer. The banger he’s trading in isn’t worth a damn, but it would be a new customer on file for us. The next time he’s buying he’ll be trading up, once I’ve finished with him.’ Neil grinned at her. ‘Give us a kiss, Heather,’ he said, grabbing her.

  Heather giggled. ‘Stop, people will be able to see.’

  ‘So what?’ Neil kissed her soundly until she was breathless. ‘The coffee will be cold,’ she chided, pushing him away, aware that they could be seen from the road by all the passing traffic and anyone who was walking past. She poured their coffee and perched on the side of his desk, sipping the welcome brew. She always enjoyed drinking her coffee with him, talking about the day’s events and making their plans. Then when the showrooms were closed they’d stroll up to the Haven and have a couple of drinks before racing home to fall on each other in bed. Sex was a joy to her. The novelty of being able to have it whenever she wanted, in the privacy of her own place without worrying about flatmates or parents, was exhilarating.

  She’d invited her parents to dinner soon after she’d moved in. They weren’t stupid and Heather was sure they’d realized that Neil was more than her boss, but they’d made no comment at any time other than to say how glad they were that she was back home in Kilronan, happy with her life. They’d never been the kind of parents that gave her hassle, she thought gratefully, knowing of the ordeals of some of her friends who still lived at home and could only have furtive, hurried sex when the occasion arose. Heather had landed on her feet, was the general consensus and she happily agreed with them.

  She was engrossed at her computer a couple of weeks later when a familiar red car scorched on to the forecourt. She saw Lorna slide elegantly out of the front seat and sashay over to one of the mechanics, who pointed her in the direction of Heather’s office.

  ‘Shit,’ she muttered, diving under her desk to look for her bag. She slipped into the back office, closed the door and redid her lipstick. She was wearing black trousers and a lilac chenille jumper which looked presentable enough, but nothing as glamorous as the suede skirt and jacket that her cousin was wearing. What the hell did she want anyway, she wondered as she heard Lorna call sweetly, ‘Anybody in?’ Heather took a deep breath, composed her features and opened the door.

  ‘Can I help … oh, hello, Lorna,’ she said coolly, pretending she hadn’t seen her cousin arrive.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Lorna chirruped as though nothing had happened between them.

  ‘I work here,’ Heather replied, sitting down behind the desk.

  ‘Lucky old you,’ Lorna drawled and Heather wanted to slap her.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Heather raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Well, it was Neil I wanted to see, actually,’ Lorna said slowly. ‘Is he here or when will he be back?’

  ‘He’s at a meeting, but he’ll be here after four I should imagine. Can I take a message?’

  ‘Not at all, I’ll call back later. See you.’ She turned her back dismissively on Heather and swung out the door.

  Heather glared at her cousin’s retreating back. What on earth did she want with Neil? She was hardly going to buy a car from him. She had never had a good word to say about him when he and Heather had been dating before. Maybe she was just being nosy. Aunt Jane must have told her that Heather was working for Neil. It certainly wasn’t like her cousin to come home to Kilronan for a weekend. She wondered if Lorna would call back.

  ‘Take no notice of her,’ Neil ordered when she told him of her cousin’s visit. ‘I’ll deal with her if she comes back.’

  Heather was upstairs cooking the dinner at six thirty when her mobile rang. It was Lorna. ‘Hi, Heather, I was just wondering was Neil back.’

  ‘I’m not at work,’ Heather said shortly.

  ‘Oh don’t be silly, Mum told me you’re living over the garage, just tell me if he’s there or not,’ Lorna commanded.

  Just who did she think she was? Heather thought furiously. ‘Hold on a minute,’ she snapped. She knew full well that Neil was downstairs waiting for her to call him for his dinner. She dawdled downstairs. Let it cost Lorna for the phone call, she thought nastily. ‘Lorna’s on the phone, she wants to know if you’re here,’ she told her boyfriend. He grimaced.

  ‘Better get it over and done with, tell her I’ll be here for the next fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Heather grinned. ‘I’m dying to see what she wants.’

  ‘A good kick in the ass,’ scowled Neil. Heather laughed and ran upstairs light-heartedly. Lorna could get lost, she wasn’t going to get into a bad humour over her.

  ‘He’ll be here for fifteen minutes,’ she said airily into her mobile. ‘’Bye, ’bye.’

  Twenty minutes later, Lorna drove up in her Honda Civic. Heather peeped through the curtains. She’d kept the light off in her sitting-room so she wouldn’t be seen. Her cousin was still dressed in her suede outfit, but this time she was wearing a pair of high-heeled suede boots. Heather sighed enviously. Her cousin looked the height of fashion. She looked like a model. In the bright lights that illuminated the forecourt she could see that Lorna was made up to the nines. She saw Neil walk out to greet her. He didn’t shake hands as he usually did, she noted with satisfaction. She saw them converse for a while and then Neil walked around the car and had a look at it. He opened the driver’s door and peered inside. She must be selling, Heather surmised from her darkened vantage point. Why had she come to Neil? Probably thought that she’d do well out of him because she was Heather’s cousin. Typical!

  She saw Lorna throw back her head and laugh and then touch Neil on the arm. Heather’s jaw dropped. What was that witch up to? Trying to flirt with him to get a good price? What a hypocritical cow. She felt like going down to the forecourt and kicking the shins off her.

  She saw Neil shake his head and saw her cousin put her head to one side flirtatiously. Heather gritted her teeth. He’d better not start flirting back, she thought furiously. Surely he could see through her. They strolled into the showrooms out of view and Heather went back into the kitchen in a temper. She banged pots and pans around. He’d better not be late for his dinner. She could ring down and tell him it was nearly ready. She rooted in her bag for her mobile, and couldn’t find it. That bloody phone drove her mad, she could never lay her hands on it when she needed it. She rummaged around the sof
a and found it between the cushions. She keyed through the directory until she came to the garage number. She pressed call and heard it start to ring. Hastily she pressed cancel. It would look childish, she thought ruefully, and Neil might not appreciate her behaving like a possessive ‘wife’ in front of Lorna. She swallowed her resentment and went back to her cooking.

  Today he was having fried plaice, mushrooms, peas and chips. The chips were sizzling away in the oil – if he didn’t hurry up they’d be cremated. Ten minutes later Neil bounded up the stairs. ‘That smells good.’ He inhaled appreciatively.

  ‘What did she want?’ Heather couldn’t contain her curiosity or her irritation. Did he not realize that she’d be dying to know? Men were hopeless.

  Neil loosened his tie and sat down at the table. ‘She’s selling the car. She’s going to New York.’

  ‘New York! It’ll suit her down to the ground. Did you do a deal?’

  ‘She’s a gas artist, even though I don’t like her I have to admire her style. Do you know what she asked me?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She wanted me to give her the cash for the car but to let her hold on to it for another two weeks until she goes. She didn’t want to be stuck in Kilronan without a set of wheels, as she said herself.’

  ‘The cheek of her!’ Heather exploded. ‘Did she think you came down in the last shower? I hope you told her where to get off.’ She placed Neil’s dinner in front of him.

  Neil shrugged. ‘I told her I’d give her a cheque at the end of next week—’

  ‘And?’ Heather stared at her boyfriend. ‘Don’t tell me you’re letting her keep the car. What happens if she crashes it?’

  ‘Didn’t think of that,’ Neil admitted sheepishly.

  ‘But why?’ Heather demanded. ‘You don’t even like her. She’s often been very rude to you.’ Privately she felt her boyfriend could have shown her a bit more loyalty. He knew all about Lorna doing the hot potato act on her.

  ‘Look, she’s a potential client, you don’t let personal feelings interfere in business,’ Neil explained patiently. ‘She’s talking about buying a soft-top when she comes back—’