Too Good to Be True

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  “You were going too fast.”

  “Don’t be daft, you can’t go fast on these roads.” Carey got out of the car and drew herself up to her full height so that she was head and shoulders taller than Leah.

  “What are you doing here?” demanded Leah.

  Carey shrugged.

  “Come to try and get him back?” Leah looked disdainfully at her.

  “No,” said Carey.

  “Because you won’t,” said Leah. “You never will. He doesn’t love you.”

  “I know,” said Carey.

  Leah stared at her. “You know?”

  “Of course he doesn’t love me,” said Carey. “He’d hardly be with someone like you if he did.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Shallow, selfish, bitchy.”

  “Fuck you!” cried Leah. “He loved me until he met you. You destroyed him.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Carey smiled sweetly. “Anyway, what difference does it make now? I’m not living with him anymore, we’re going to get a divorce, and you’re clearly on your way to meet him. So what’s your problem?”

  “My problem is that you’re like a damn thorn in my side,” snapped Leah. “You’re the one-night stand who accidentally out-stayed her welcome and you keep on doing it.”

  “You were the thorn in mine,” said Carey. “Wonderful, gorgeous, sensitive Leah who’s so good in the sack that he can’t stay away.”

  “You are such a bitch!” hissed Leah.

  “I’m not.” Carey sighed. “Really, I’m not. Look, d’you think I’d have married him if I’d realized the kind of relationship you two had? I’m not a complete fool. He didn’t tell me about you. If he had, maybe things would be different.”

  “So it’s his fault?”

  “I don’t know,” said Carey. “I don’t care.”

  “Why are you here?” asked Leah.

  “I don’t know that either,” replied Carey.

  “Yeah, well, you can just fuck off back wherever you came from. He doesn’t need you fussing around causing trouble. Neither do I.”

  “I know,” said Carey.

  “Good.”

  “We’re getting a divorce,” Carey told her. “I’m going to the Dominican Republic.”

  “I heard about this stupid divorce,” said Leah. “It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s not as though he can get married…” She bit her lip.

  “I’m sorry.” Carey watched the other girl. “I really am. I didn’t think that this would happen and I’m sorry he can’t marry you if that’s what you want, and I’m sorry if you think it’s my fault.”

  Leah was silent for a moment. Then she looked up at the taller girl. “So why are you here?” she asked edgily.

  Carey reached into her bag and took out the divorce information. “To give him this,” she said. “To say that as soon as I hear back from them I’ll be booking my flight.”

  “I suppose it’s better than nothing.” Leah glanced at the printouts.

  “So you can stop worrying that I’m trying to win him back or anything,” said Carey.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Leah told her. “He’s an investor in my company now as well as a dear friend.”

  “What company?” asked Carey.

  “Beauty salon.” Leah looked her up and down. “Helping people to make the most of their appearance.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be really good at that,” said Carey.

  “I’m sure I will.” Leah flicked through the papers again. “Do you want me to give these to him for you?”

  Carey hesitated.

  “Or perhaps you wanted to see him one last time?” asked Leah dryly.

  “No,” said Carey. “Of course you can give them to him.”

  “Excellent,” said Leah. “That’s what I’ll do. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know that you’re making progress. Such as it is.”

  “Thanks.” Carey got back into her car.

  “Drive carefully,” said Leah.

  “Oh, fuck off, you bimbo bitch,” muttered Carey as she put the Audi into gear and drove down the street.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  GERANIUM

  With a delightful floral scent, this oil is cleansing and refreshing

  Freya was surprised to receive an invitation to the opening of the new beauty salon in which Leah was a partner. She was even more surprised to see that she and Brian were invited to the post-launch dinner which was being held (astonishing her still more) in Oleg’s. She hadn’t spoken to Leah in ages and she wondered whether or not the other girl really wanted her to show up or not. But she would go, she decided. She regretted the fact that her friendship with Leah had fractured, especially since Ben and Leah were involved with each other again. There was no point in allowing the awkwardness between herself and Leah to grow. Going to the launch would be an indication of her support for both her brother and his girlfriend.

  Ben was already at the salon when she arrived. He was standing uncomfortably at the edge of a clique of women, a glass of Amé in his hand. Leah, looking effortlessly beautiful in royal blue trousers teamed with a dazzling white top and with her raven hair pulled tightly into a knot on the back of her head, was chatting to a woman whom Freya recognized as the wife of a local politician and who was clearly going to do the official opening. Because of the politician’s wife (a good publicity catch, thought Freya), there was a small group of photographers at the event too.

  A pretty girl at the door handed Freya a glass of the non-alcoholic drink and a small black - and - white - striped carrier bag, both of which she accepted before walking over to Ben.

  “Hi,” he said. “I thought you mightn’t make it.”

  “I accepted the invitation, didn’t I?” said Freya. “I was held up at the shop.” She looked around her. “Good crowd.”

  “Mm.” Ben nodded. “I think they’re happy with the turnout.”

  “And the place looks great,” said Freya. “Really modern but restful.”

  The salon, which they’d named Shiki, using the Japanese word for the four seasons, was very simply styled with soft white walls and walnut furnishings. Freya could almost feel herself relax on the spot.

  “Hello, Freya.” Leah detached herself from the politician’s wife and came over to her. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Thanks for asking me,” said Freya. “I’m very impressed. It looks fantastic.”

  “Yes.” Leah nodded. “We had our plan and we stuck to it. We wanted to give people a feeling of contentment and tranquillity.”

  “You’ve succeeded,” said Freya. “I’ll have to book a treatment as soon as possible.”

  “We’re already fully booked for next week,” Leah told her. “Although that’s partly because you’ve got a voucher in your goody-bag and people have been using them like crazy.”

  Freya glanced at the black-and-white bag. “I haven’t checked it out yet.”

  “Some sample products,” said Leah. “And the voucher.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, everybody got one,” said Leah dismissively.

  Freya smiled. “It’s a good idea. So is the politician’s wife.”

  Leah shrugged. “An election this year — she was only too delighted.”

  “I’m glad to see you have your marketing head screwed on,” said Freya.

  “Don’t be so patronizing,” said Leah curtly.

  “I’m sorry.” Freya looked surprised. “I didn’t mean to be.”

  At that point Juliette, one of Leah’s partners, came over to her and told her that they were ready to start the speeches. Leah excused herself and followed Juliette to the top of the room. Freya stayed where she was and listened to the girls extolling the virtues of a healthy lifestyle and taking time out for yourself. They were right, Freya thought as she drained her drink. She felt a million times better since she’d come back from her break at the Sheen Falls. She’d started taking a variety of supplements to help with her menopausal symptoms a
nd so far they seemed to be having some effect. Certainly her energy levels had improved and she wasn’t as lethargic and cranky as she’d been before. She was doing further investigation into natural therapies for the menopause and had decided that she should beef up that whole area of Herbal Matters, maybe even holding some workshops for women who were concerned with the issue. She was enthusiastic about the prospect.

  The politician’s wife started to speak, praised the girls for their business skills, wished them every success, and then mentioned the tax breaks that were given to start-up ventures courtesy of her husband’s political party. The assembled group of people applauded politely when she’d finished and went back to chatting among themselves. Freya wandered around the salon and went into the four different treatment rooms, named Haru, Natsu, Aki, and Fuyu after the seasons. Like the reception area, they were simply but elegantly decorated, and Freya knew that this was mainly due to Leah, who loved plain lines and hated clutter. She frowned as she looked at Ben and Leah, who were standing side by side but talking to other people. Then Ben turned to Leah, said something to her, and walked away.

  “Hi,” she said as he joined her. “Anything the matter?”

  “The matter?”

  “You and Leah. You looked…”

  “You know, I didn’t realize that she had it in her,” Ben interrupted her.

  “What?” asked Freya.

  “The desire to do something like this herself. The drive to do it, I guess.”

  “You’ve always underestimated Leah,” Freya told him. “Always.”

  “I know,” he said. “And even this time when she was telling me about it I probably didn’t think they’d succeed. Not like this anyway.”

  “They haven’t succeeded yet,” said Freya.

  “But they will,” Ben said. “This place is really great. When she told me about it first I suppose I thought of a little suburban salon with pink walls and middle-aged women getting their make-up done.”

  “Ben!” Freya laughed. “That’s sexist and misogynistic and just plain ridiculous all in one.”

  “I’m stuck in male myth territory as far as beauty salons go,” he admitted. “Besides, the place she worked, Eden — that was a bit pink and fluffy, wasn’t it?”

  “I suppose so.” Freya chuckled.

  “But this is definitely the sort of place that a bloke could come into and not feel his masculinity being threatened.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” said Leah, who had walked over to them. “Although I’m pretty sure that ninety percent of our clientele will be female.”

  “But this room” — he nodded toward Fuyu — “is quite masculine.”

  “If we do get men in, we want them to feel comfortable,” said Leah.

  “I’d feel comfortable there,” said Ben. “I really would.”

  “I designed it with you in mind.”

  Ben looked at her. “Really?”

  “Of course,” she said. “You were my role model. A man who didn’t want to feel overpowered by the scent of candles or oils. Who wanted things clinically clean. Sort of industrialized health.”

  Ben laughed. “Industrialized?”

  “Most women like the candles and the oils and the music,” explained Leah. “But a lot of guys are like you, Ben. They want things sterile and silent.”

  “Makes us sound a bit clinical ourselves,” he observed.

  “But at least we cater for you.” Leah smiled thinly at him, then glanced at her watch and at Freya. “You and Brian will be joining us for dinner, Freya? It’s a private dinner, close friends only, no media or suppliers.”

  “We’re looking forward to it,” she said.

  “Good.”

  “Though I’m surprised you didn’t stick with the Japanese theme for a restaurant,” added Freya.

  “Actually we wanted to,” said Leah, “but neither of the restaurants we tried could fit us in. So I called Oleg’s. They’ve promised to do tempura for us anyway.”

  “And I guess after a few vodkas we won’t care what we’re eating,” said Ben.

  “I won’t be lashing back the vodkas tonight,” Leah said coolly.“Not that I want to dredge up painful memories or anything, but last time I was there I really drank far too much.”

  “I’ll make sure you stay teetotal,” said Ben.

  “Not teetotal,” Leah told him. “Just not drunk.”

  There were twenty-five of them for dinner and Colman had organized a private dining room for them. He’d also (at Ben’s request) strung up a banner which said, “Congratulations Leah, Juliette & Karen,” and had ordered in a supply of saki.

  “He goes to so much trouble,” Freya murmured to Brian, who’d met them at Oleg’s.

  “He wants to talk to us about opening another restaurant,” Brian told her. “But we’re not sure about that yet.”

  “Don’t you think it would be equally successful?” asked Freya.

  Brian shrugged. “The trouble with chefs is that they think they can run businesses too. Just because the place is crowded doesn’t mean he’s making a fortune.”

  “Isn’t he?” Freya looked worried. “I was hoping that he was.”

  “They’re making money,” agreed Brian. “But I don’t want them to bite off more than they can chew.”

  “Rather like this piece of fish,” said Freya as she looked at the battered lump on her plate. “I think it got mixed up with something else!”

  Brian laughed and put his arm round her shoulders. He squeezed her gently and hugged her to him and she allowed herself to mold into the contours of his embrace. In the past she would never have allowed him to hug her in public. Now she was happy for him to do so. It was a pity Maude and Sylvia couldn’t be here tonight, she thought, as he finally released her and she turned her attention back to her food. Maude would have loved the buzz and she was dying to have a heart-to-heart with Sylvia about the Jeanne and Gary episode. Of course, she reminded herself, neither Maude nor Sylvia could possibly have sat at the same table as Leah. At least not without World War Three breaking out.

  She caught the eye of the other girl, who was sitting almost directly opposite her.

  “Love the ring,” said Leah. “Meant to say that earlier.”

  “Thanks.” Freya glanced proprietorially at it.

  “I’m glad for you, Freya,” said Leah.

  Freya frowned, but Leah’s expression was sincere. Freya found it hard to accept that people were happy for her. It was only in the last few weeks — only since her meeting with Maude, in fact — that she was able to believe that other people could be happy for her. She’d always believed that they were lying before, that nobody was actually pleased when good things happened to someone else. She didn’t want to blame that feeling on her parents, but she knew that it had been fostered by them. Charles had always been so begrudging of the good fortune of others, wanting to know why it was that he hadn’t been the recipient of it instead. But you have to make your own luck and good fortune, thought Freya. You have to do it yourself and let other people help you, and you can’t expect it to happen from nothing. That was what Charles had expected though. He could never understand why he wasn’t promoted at work or why he didn’t have the success of less able men, but Freya knew why now. It was because he’d lived in a closed world, shutting people out, jealous of them. Bitter too.

  She shivered. She could have been like that. She knew that she often shut people out, and she’d sometimes told herself that her life hadn’t been fair. But she hadn’t brooded like Charles. She’d come close to it, especially recently, but people had made the difference to her. Maude and Sylvia. And Ben. His ridiculous testosterone-charged fight with Brian. She couldn’t help smiling to herself at the thought.

  “What?” asked Brian who’d seen the range of emotions run across her face.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “What?” he repeated softly.

  “I love you,” she told him.

  “I love you too,” he repli
ed.

  Ben was astonished at the outward change in Freya and Brian’s relationship. He’d never seen them so obviously happy with each other before. He’d never known Freya to laugh so much or to make so many jokes. These days when she came into the shop her first words were always cheerful and friendly rather than a comment on their sales figures. The staff had noticed it too. Susie had told him that she wished Freya had got engaged long before now because it would have made her life so much easier.

  As for Boring Brian, Ben had never seen him look so relaxed either. He wondered whether it was because Brian had finally told Freya about his stunning daughter or whether he was simply happy to have made his feelings for her public at last. Whatever it was, the guy was a positive ray of sunshine these days.

  He pushed his plate of half-eaten food to one side. He wasn’t really hungry and he didn’t like fish very much anyway. Particularly deep-fried fish so that he didn’t know exactly what he was eating.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Leah.

  “Nothing,” he told her.

  “Regretting having come?”

  “I said I’d come, didn’t I?”

  “Worried?”

  “About what?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m not worried,” said Ben. “I’m glad I came. I want you to be successful.”

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “You didn’t believe I could do it.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “But you didn’t trust us to get it right.”

  “Of course I did.” He paused for thought. “I’m just not up to speed with beauty salons. Tell you the truth, Leah, I’m just glad you’ve done something for yourself.”

  “Why?”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “You always looked down on me, didn’t you?”

  “No,” he said. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I wasn’t like your sister. Wasn’t a go-getting career woman. Because having a fulfilling relationship was more important to me.”

  “That’s complete bullshit and you know it,” said Ben. “Besides, look at my go-getting sister. Totally smoochy with the international banker!”