The Lingerie Designer

by Siobhán McKenna

  Helen playfully thumped him. “Oh shut up, you – it could have been yin and yang.”

  “Please – no more Poppy-isms!”

  “Needless to say, I’m dreading seeing him in the office. Fred can be great fun and good to work with, as long as he’s getting his own way. He can also be a nasty piece of work. I could be wrong, but I often got the impression he manipulates people, situations.”

  “What exactly did happen between you two?” Rob suddenly looked serious.

  “Nothing actually happened,” Helen said, looking at the floor, “but I’m sure he’s offended. I don’t think I’m going to brush this one aside too easily.”

  “Bullshit. You’re exaggerating things again, Helen. They need you and they know it. You were the one who brought them out of the ha’penny place and into the big league.”

  “Maybe, but I think I’ve lost my mojo. I don’t feel the excitement any more when it comes to designing. My job is more about cost-cutting, EU red-tape and bloody Chinese factories.”

  Silence fell between them for a moment.

  “Maybe if I’d made the move to come home and set up on my own a few years ago, it’d have worked out. Let’s face it, who nowadays is voluntarily leaving a six-figure salary with pension, healthcare and perks?”

  Rob’s eyes narrowed. “You have a point there – how much are you on?”

  Helen shifted uncomfortably. Her success was somehow a bone of contention between them – it always had been. “Plus, there’s this girl I’m working with now, Sarah. I have to admit she’s good. She’s young, enthusiastic, has a first-class honours degree in design. She lacks cop-on but they love her – and she costs about a quarter of my salary.”

  “Is she hot?”

  “Shut up!” Helen poked him a little harder this time.

  “Ouch! That’s assault!” Rob rubbed his belly. “Sarah is exactly why you should think about being your own boss. Okay, so she hasn’t got your experience but she’ll be nipping at your heels. It’s only a matter of time before they try to oust you and your big pay cheque. Let’s hope Sarah’s not willing to shag Fred, or it could be sooner than you think.”

  Helen looked troubled – was that really a possibility?

  Rob cheerily added, “Don’t worry – we’ll sue their asses.”

  “But the thing is – I think I’m knickered out of it. To start my own business I’d have to have drive, passion and belief in what I’m doing. Lingerie isn’t doing that for me any more. It’s time for phase two of my career. But what’s next? I feel like I should be doing more with my life but I don’t know what that is. Can I reinvent myself or will I forever be the lingerie designer?”

  The conversation was getting far too deep for Rob’s liking.

  “I’ve still got plenty of passion for your lingerie, baby, but if you’re ready to get out of knickers, I’m here to help.” He grabbed her hand and put it on his penis, which was stiffening again.

  Helen took a sip of her Baileys and moved closer to him. She kissed him and, as he opened his mouth to receive her, she slowly released a trickle of the creamy liquor onto his tongue. She straddled him and with their lips still locked, she eased herself on top of him. They gently rocked, their lovemaking more sensual and slower than it had been hours earlier. He undid the belt of her robe and let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked. Her breasts were level with his face – he licked and teased each nipple to hardness. Her hair fell onto his face. It smelt of amber. He inhaled her scent as he softly groaned for the second time that evening.

  Rob looked at her – his eyes glistened as he brushed her hair off her face. “God, you are the most beautiful woman, Helen. You’re an angel, with a devilish glint, my ‘Hell in the Divine’.”

  Maybe it was the lovemaking that made her want to talk. It was gentler than their usual WWF style (wrestling, not wildlife). Or was it the wine that loosened her tongue? Somewhere, subconsciously she knew it was because there had been that rare glimpse of a tender moment between them, like the ones they shared so routinely when they were younger. So routinely, they assumed that it would last forever. It didn’t.

  “Do you ever think about the baby? He’d be a young man now,” she said softly as Rob held her in his arms. She knew she was treading on a minefield. She felt him tense.

  “Stop it, Helen. We’ve been through this a million times before. We did the best we could – under the circumstances.” Rob’s voice was cold, firm.

  A tear escaped from Helen’s eye, she quickly wiped it away. “But was it the right thing? I thought there’d be plenty of time for children, but here I am nearly forty and guess what, Rob – no child.”

  Rob pushed her away and stood to leave. Damn Helen, why did she always start this shit just as he was starting to relax?

  “So that’s what this is about, Helen – your biological clock.”

  “Maybe, but I’ve felt this way for nearly twenty years, so it’s unlikely.” Fighting back more tears, she continued, “You always say this crap, Rob – I’m your ideal woman, you could never feel about anyone the way you feel for me. But here we are – middle-aged – and what have we got to show for it? Nothing! We’re alone, for fuck sake, look at us. How did we go from being soul-mates to fuck-buddies?” She tried to catch her breath.

  Rob went to the hall, picked his jacket off the floor where it still lay crumpled from earlier.

  “I thought you were staying tonight,” she said, following him.

  “I never said I was staying, you assumed that I would. Assumption, Helen, is the mother of all fuck-ups.”

  “You can’t drive, you’re over the limit.”

  “I’ll get a taxi.”

  “Why do you always scurry off, like you’re suddenly standing on a bed of nails?”

  “I am not! It’s after three in the morning – I’ve a lot on tomorrow.” Rob’s words hung like stale air. Then he changed tack in an effort to expedite his exit. He put his hands on Helen’s shoulders and looked down at her from arm’s length. “Look, we did the right thing. We were a couple of kids, still in college – we could barely look after ourselves, never mind a baby.”

  “Mum would have helped us,” Helen said weakly, unable to look up.

  “And what? You drop out of uni. Me working to make ends meet. Look where we are now. You’re design director in one of the UK’s top retail-chains. You’ve travelled the world ten times over. I’ve built the most respected law firm in the country. Do you think we’d have all this if we’d become parents barely out of our teens?”

  “Maybe we’d still have each other.” She looked him squarely in the eye.

  Rob swallowed and thought for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “We still have each other,” he said softly.

  “This isn’t together, Rob. This is sex. I can’t even tell my best friend that we’re together and, as for my mum, she’d have a canary.”

  “Ah, Mary – how is the old bat?”

  “Shut up, Rob. I mean it. I need more than this. Maybe we should start dating again, stop sneaking around behind people’s backs. Talk to each other. Christ, we’re not even using condoms! How do I know you’re not having sex with other people?”

  “Because we discussed it, Helen, we agreed we’d be sexually exclusive.”

  Helen thought of her brief response to Fred’s kiss. Christ, had aliens kidnapped her brain, for those few moments, or was it Uncle Ron Bacardi? She considered telling Rob, but he’d always been so jealous of her around other men. Would he understand?

  “It seems that’s all we have, Rob. It’s as if you want to have your cake and eat it. I don’t know who your friends are, what you do with your time during the week.”

  “I seem to remember when we started this whole thing that it suited you just fine. You even laughed that your idea of commitment was to own a dog!”

  “That is a big commitment. At least it shows I’m capable of caring for another living creature, other than myself.”

  “Look, we ha
ve it good here, Helen. If it ain’t broke, why fix it? You’re in London all week – you’ve got your travel on top of that. Can you imagine a boyfriend whingeing at you that you don’t have time for him? Then there’s the singles scene, getting to know someone, dating, having to teach them what you like.” Rob smirked.

  “Okay, so sexually we work. I’m not questioning that. All I’m saying is: I’m ready for more.”

  “Helen, we were always fighting. This way you get all the good bits of a relationship – without the drawbacks.”

  When Rob spoke, he had a way of making anything sound reasonable.

  “I don’t know, Rob – I’m starting to think all that couple crap might be nice to try.”

  Rob had known this moment would come sooner or later, but their arrangement suited him fine. Still, the thought of losing Helen didn’t appeal to him.

  “I tell you what. After I finish the paperwork tomorrow, why don’t I take you to dinner, my treat?”

  “I’d like that.” Helen yawned – they’d made some headway. “I’ll book somewhere local – how about that new fish place on the pier?”

  “How about we go into Dublin?”

  “Oh, all right so. I’m on the red-eye on Monday, but I haven’t been out in town in ages, so why not?” Helen got on her tippy-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Will I call you a cab?”

  “No, it’s fine, I’ll just hail one down on the main road, cheaper than calling one.”

  Outside, Rob waited for a few minutes. When Helen’s bedroom light went out, he turned the key in his ignition. Thankfully, as always, he had parked a few metres down the road rather than in the driveway. He’d be damned if he was forking out for a taxi after only a few glasses of wine and hours ago at that, but it wasn’t worth arguing with Helen about. He was pleased at how he’d handled her when she’d started to go off on one.

  That’s what makes you so damn good in the courtroom, old boy! he thought as he drove into the night.

  Chapter 25

  Despite the late hour getting to bed, Helen woke early on Sunday morning. She looked out the window and noticed there was no sign of Rob’s car. He’s up early, she thought. She pulled on a pair of black track-suit bottoms and tied her hair back in a pony-tail, before running downstairs.

  “Come on, JD, the beach awaits!” Helen called as she went into the kitchen to wake the dog.

  JD bounced around in excitement, his tail wagging so furiously he knocked over several free-standing photos on a low windowsill. Helen loved her beachside home. She had the best of both worlds: city-life on weekdays, and escape from the rat race at weekends.

  Helen and JD ran along the beach which Helen could access from the back of her townhouse. A light breeze was on their backs, sunshine on their faces. Thirty minutes of pure abandonment, where nothing else existed.

  Getting back to the house, Helen put her key in the lock and opened the back door, just a fraction. “No chance, JD, you can stay out there until you dry off.” The tide was in, and the dog had swum in the sea. As if to protest, he shook his whole body vigorously, spraying Helen with sea water and dog hair. When he’d finished, he looked like he’d stuck his paw in a light socket.

  Helen brushed the sand off, made a coffee and booted up her other baby, her white iMac laptop. This was her time: no phone, no people, just her, her coffee and her Mac. JD pressed his wet nose against the window but Helen didn’t budge. She was in her world of time-wasting internet sites, another Sunday indulgence.

  There was something about looking at shopping websites, consuming caffeine and a week’s worth of cholesterol with one laden pastry, that made it all the better. She wandered onto her Facebook page, and laughed at some of the silly photos and comments her friends had up-loaded. A link at the side of the side of the computer screen caught her eye: Find Friends on Facebook. Start the search button and Facebook will identify friends from your email lists.”

  She clicked on it. Dozens of profiles popped up on the screen. Poppy’s daughter, Lily, was one of them. Helen decided to send her a friend request, which she knew Lily would reject – how embarrassing being friends with your godmother! She pressed send anyway, if there’s one thing she enjoyed almost as much as annoying Poppy, it was annoying her daughter.

  She was about to log off when another profile name caught her eye. For a moment, her world stood still.

  She directed the cursor over the silhouetted faceless picture.

  Sam Fisher the name said, but it had come up attached to Rob’s private email address.

  “Sam Fisher only shares information with his friends. Click here to request Sam as a friend” the pop-up message box read back.

  She double-checked. It was definitely Rob’s email all right: lawbreaker007@ . . . But he had used a false name. Hardly surprising. Rob swore he wouldn’t be caught dead on a social networking site. His profile was set to private but Helen could still see his friends.

  He had only one.

  And she was beautiful.

  Her sparkling eyes and blinding white smile taunted Helen. Was she imagining it or did the girl look like she had, over fifteen years ago?

  Nadia Rossi.

  Helen wanted to slam her laptop shut. Instead, with a lump in her throat, the cursor appeared to glide across the screen of its own volition as she voyaged into Ms Perfect’s life. She could be anyone, Helen told herself. A work colleague of Rob’s – but if that was the case why did he hide his identity? Helen wanted to stop but she kept on delving. And then, as she’d feared, Helen saw the photo she had hoped she’d never see – Rob and another woman, heads tilted together, all shiny happy couple.

  Helen closed the laptop and sat for a moment, dazed, not knowing what to think.

  All the usual excuses came to her.

  She’s just a friend.

  Rob wouldn’t sleep with someone else.

  And just as quickly, the counter arguments started.

  She’s his lover.

  He probably was sleeping with her.

  Wanting to wash the Facebook image and negative thoughts from her mind, Helen stripped, to shower. As she removed her underwear, she could still smell Rob’s scent on her skin. She looked at her naked body in a full-length mirror – all she saw were flaws.

  She turned the water pressure onto the highest setting and let the water beat down on her head, hoping the power of the water would wash everything away. But her thoughts just kept going back to Rob, the only man she’d ever fallen in love with.

  Chapter 26

  Helen and Rob: 1990

  “Rob, I’m pregnant,” Helen whispered.

  “How the fuck did that happen?” Rob shouted down the phone.

  Helen began to sob. She had just done the home pregnancy test in the girls’ toilet of her college. Now she was on the public phone in the corridor. She twisted the curly cable around her finger. Rob’s reaction wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear.

  “I don’t know . . . I must have messed up the pill or something.” Helen struggled to regain control. The phone started to beep – it needed more money. Calling mobiles was expensive.

  “Okay, look, calm down, we’ll work it out.” Rob’s tone was softer.

  They met up later that night. Helen’s eyes were red and swollen from crying.

  Rob took her in his arms. “It’s going to be okay, Helen, don’t worry. You didn’t tell your mother, did you?”

  Helen shook her head. “No, I’m not going to spoil her first holiday in years – it can wait till she gets back. What are we going to do, Rob?”

  “Well, are you sure? I mean, did you get the result confirmed by a doctor?”

  “No.”

  “Then there’s no point panicking until we do that. Sure, it could all be a false alarm.” He was upbeat – he made Helen relax.

  “Do you want something to eat, have you come straight from lectures?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I have for all the good they were – I couldn’t take my mind off you all day.” He kis
sed her gently before pulling back. “But I can’t stop. It’s training night and if I’m a no-show Coach won’t give me my game on Saturday.”

  “Rob, please miss rugby, just tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You never do, Helen. You’re always at this, trying to get me to skip training. It’s not a competition between you and the club.”

  “Why does it feel like it is then?”

  “Look, Helen, I’ve had the day from hell – I need to unwind. I’m going training.” Rob opened the hall door he’d stepped through just minutes previously. He paused. “I tell you what, I’ll drop by afterwards, instead of going for a pint with the lads. I’ve really got to go, beautiful.”

  He left.

  The next day came and despite holding on to a thin thread of hope, the doctor’s test confirmed Helen was indeed pregnant. A week passed. They had screaming matches that turned to lovemaking then back to screaming matches again.

  “Marry me, Helen,” Rob said, as they lay in bed.

  That evening had been calm. They’d watched a movie, eaten ice cream and gone to bed early. Mary would be returning from her two-week sun holiday tomorrow, so it was their last night in the same bed for a while.

  “Are you mad?” Helen laughed.

  “I mean it, Helen, why not? You’re the love of my life, I always thought I’d marry you some day – we’ll just be getting married a bit earlier than I’d planned.”

  “Bloody hell, Rob, I haven’t thought about it. I mean, I always thought when we were older, sure, but I’ve still got another three years in college and your finals are coming up.”

  “So? We’ve been together years now. And besides, I’ve never set eyes on a more beautiful woman in my life.” He gave her a crooked smile.

  Helen blushed at the compliment, her heart skipping a beat.

  “We would never forgive ourselves if we don’t have this baby. Terminating it, for me, just isn’t an option, Helen.”