Amy looked at some of the design work that Jilly had done on the campaign, and really liked it. She herself still had to work out the costing on various avenues of the promotion, which included advertising banners on the back of local buses. What a triumph it would be, too, to get a piece on the family business in the Sunday Times! And a lovely double-page spread about the firm in the new The Gardener magazine – if they took out an ad on the back page. It would be money well spent as far as she was concerned. She’d noticed that her dad had a copy of the magazine, and had spotted one in the hairdresser’s and the dentist’s in the past few weeks. It had a perfectly targeted circulation! She rang a few places to get rates, and was busy writing up her proposal when Norah came down to the desk with her usual mug of black coffee in her hand.
‘Good to have you back, Amy.’
‘Thanks.’ Amy glanced up from what she was doing.
‘You’re still looking a bit peaky.’
‘I still feel it,’ Amy said slowly.
‘Hope that boyfriend of yours is taking good care of you.’
Amy didn’t trust herself to speak and just nodded dumbly.
Norah hesitated for a second as Amy stared fixedly down at her keyboard, wishing that her boss would disappear.
‘Everything OK?’ Norah said.
‘I’m fine.’ Amy smiled, trying to avoid Norah’s scrutiny.
She breathed a huge sigh of relief when Norah passed along and turned her eagle-eyed attention on Gary Cole, the new guy who had come to work with them last year. He was getting a lot of the crappy jobs, but everyone had to start at the bottom, that’s how it worked. As Norah pulled a chair up at his desk poor Gary’s pimply skin flushed a deep red.
At lunchtime Amy left early and escaped to Grafton Street, moping about on her own in Marks & Spencer’s and BT’s and grabbing a quick sandwich and a smoothie. The afternoon was spent going over the figures on the Chippos crunchy corn snack campaign with Jackie from their accounts section, and sending replies to about six new potential customers telling them about the services that Solutions offered.
‘Hey, won’t be long till your wedding,’ teased Jackie, who had got married last year in Clare. ‘Where are you two lovebirds off to on honeymoon?’
‘Not sure yet, but I expect it will involve surfing and snorkelling,’ Amy fibbed, feeling herself redden as much as Gary had. She printed out another sheet of figures quickly to distract Jackie from asking any more questions.
She was wrapping things up on the predicted spend on the Chippo’s snack account when Norah called her into her office.
‘I just want a word, Amy.’
What the hell did her boss want?
‘I couldn’t help noticing you weren’t yourself today, Amy,’ said Norah, gesturing to the seat across from her big oak desk. ‘Is everything all right?’
Amy swallowed hard. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Just a bit tired after being sick, that’s all.’
‘Are you sure that is all it is?’ asked Norah kindly, coming over to sit near her, perching on the corner of her desk in her classic black shift dress and black opaque tights.
Damn her boss’s perceptiveness! Nothing could get by her.
‘I noticed that the picture of your fiancé seemed to have disappeared from your desk.’
‘My fiancé Daniel?’
‘Yes. He’s a pretty cool guy, judging by that photo of yours. Besides, I didn’t spot you up on any wedding or honeymoon websites even once today.’
Amy sighed. The woman really did have eyes in the back of her head. Jackie and Nadia were right: she must have cameras hidden all over the place.
‘Is everything OK between the two of you?’
Amy heard a sob, and realized suddenly that it had escaped from her mouth. Was she mad, letting her guard down in front of Madame Perfect, her boss Norah Fortune?
Norah, the forty-year-old head of Solutions marketing, with her immaculately styled shoulder-length blonde hair, manicured nails, and round face with piercing blue eyes, was staring at her inquisitively.
‘No, actually, it’s not,’ Amy admitted, her voice breaking. ‘We’ve split up. Daniel doesn’t want to get married.’
‘Oh, Amy,’ said Norah softly. ‘I’m sorry. How awful for both of you!’
‘Yes,’ said Amy glumly. ‘AWFUL!’
‘I remember when I broke up with my fiancé, I thought that I would die and that nothing would ever go right again in my life,’ confessed Norah. ‘It was about four weeks before my wedding, and there was uproar in the family about George and me splitting up and everything having to be cancelled.’
Amy was confused. What was Norah talking about? She was married to a composer called George, a gentle bald-headed man with glasses who was said to have written the music for a big American airline advertising campaign that had netted them enough money to buy a massive house out in Dalkey. They had eight-year-old twins called Charley and Henry who’d been born with the help of IVF. Norah made no secret about it.
‘But you’re married to George!’ Amy said, incredulous.
‘Now I am, but after we broke up I went out with other men. First of all there was a disastrous two years when I was involved with a charming French lawyer called Marc, who slept with every legal apprentice who crossed his desk; and then I had an ill-advised fling with a client. Then, luckily, fate intervened and George and I met up again, when we weren’t so scared and stupid and both knew what we wanted. I adore that man, and he is a wonderful father.’
Amy sighed heavily.
‘I guess what I am trying to say,’ explained Norah, ‘is that you should believe in fate! That in the end we marry the people we love and, if we are lucky, get to spend the rest of our lives loving them. Wait and see what happens. It’s called LIFE! You and your Daniel are both so young.’
All the way home on the bus Amy thought about her conversation with Norah. She didn’t want to be like Norah, and wait years, and waste half her life, with only a slight chance that she and Daniel would ever find each other again. She wanted Daniel now!
Chapter Thirty-seven
Helen didn’t know what possessed her, but she phoned Carmel Quinn again and asked if they could meet for coffee. Carmel immediately suggested The Shelbourne Hotel.
‘I have an appointment in town on Wednesday, so that would suit me best.’
Helen didn’t know what she would say to Dan’s mother, but she knew that something had to be done. She had never seen Amy so unhappy. Amy had moved temporarily to Jess’s house and was back at work, but, as Ciara so aptly put it, she was like a robot going through the motions. She knew that Paddy had phoned Eddie, and that both fathers had been equally puzzled about what was going on between their offspring and had commiserated with each other.
Carmel was sitting on a couch near the window in the hotel’s magnificent lounge overlooking St Stephen’s Green, elegant as ever in a cream jacket and tan-coloured trousers.
‘It’s lovely to see you,’ she said, as Helen joined her and ordered a pot of tea.
Helen sat down beside her, unsure of how to start.
‘How is Amy?’ asked Carmel.
Helen would love to have lied and said Amy was fine and had a wonderful new boyfriend, but she was brutally honest instead.
‘Miserable.’
‘Dan’s the same,’ Carmel said slowly. ‘He tries to pretend that he’s fine, but it’s obvious he really misses Amy. Eddie and I are baffled as to what this is all about, and believe me, Helen, we are highly embarrassed at our son’s behaviour.’
‘Has he said anything to you?’
‘Obviously there was some big row about a surf weekend, but Eddie says that there was more to it than that. Dan wouldn’t say much to me, but he does talk to his father. Eddie’s close to the boys.’
‘Amy blames herself,’ Helen said calmly. ‘She says that she was too caught up in planning and organizing the wedding and all the arrangements, and drove Dan away.’
‘For heaven’s
sake, a girl has to organize a wedding and make arrangements!’ Carmel sighed with exasperation. ‘Dan should have thanked heaven he had a girlfriend who could organize things. What kind of wife would she be if she couldn’t? Honestly, men haven’t a clue.’
Helen was surprised that Carmel was not just taking her son’s side.
‘I don’t know what is going on with my boys,’ Carmel ruminated. ‘Rob was going out for years with Hannah, a nice girl but clearly not the right person for him, and the two of them finally decided to break up. Then there’s Dan, getting cold feet about marrying Amy – and Dylan, who seems to have a string of unsuitable girlfriends. The boys don’t talk to me very much, and I try not to interfere in their lives, they are young men after all, but this situation is unfortunate, to say the least.’
‘The past few weeks have been a nightmare,’ Helen confided. ‘But at least we’ve cancelled everything. Sent the wedding gifts back, and told everyone.’
‘It must be awful,’ Carmel commiserated with her. ‘I myself found it so embarrassing telling our friends and family. And it’s so humiliating.’
‘Anyway, it’s all done now, and I guess we just have to get over it!’ said Helen sadly. ‘Paddy and I were always very fond of Dan; we still are. Amy is young, and she will just have to get on with her life, even if it is without him.’
‘Helen, I wish I could say that I could do something to change things, but unfortunately I cannot,’ said Carmel firmly. ‘We cannot interfere where Dan is concerned; he is thirty-three, after all. Eddie and I have a policy not to intrude in our sons’ lives. There is nothing worse than a man who constantly seeks the approval of his parents!’
‘Of course not.’
‘Amy might think that Eddie and I had some hand in this, but I promise you we had nothing to do with it. Both of us think that Amy and Dan were very suited and we were looking forward to having her as a daughter-in-law.’
Helen could sense regret in Carmel’s voice, along with an unwillingness to say any more about the situation.
Awkwardly, they finished their tea and made some small talk before Helen paid the bill.
‘Please give Amy my regards,’ said Carmel, as she took up her handbag and left.
Helen considered staying on in town and doing a bit of shopping, but she was in no mood for looking at clothes or shoes, and instead decided to call over to see her mother.
Sheila was a big worry at the moment. Last week she had taken the DART train to Malahide for no apparent reason, using her oldage pass. Her mother didn’t know a soul in Malahide, and luckily a Good Samaritan called Alice Scanlon had noticed her sitting on a bench down near the marina in the spitting rain and gone over to check if she was OK. Sheila hadn’t been able to remember where she lived, and had been persuaded by Alice to go to her house for a cup of tea while she tried to discover who to contact.
Alice had found Helen’s name and phone number under ‘next of kin’ on the donor card in Sheila’s handbag and had phoned her.
Filled with trepidation, Helen had driven over, only to discover Sheila out admiring Alice’s roses in the back garden. Sheila had seemed as right as rain after her adventure. She’d been like a little kid, and Helen had hugged her, trying not to let her mother see how overwrought she was as she thanked Alice and her husband. Her mother’s memory lapses were getting worse, and Helen knew the situation was something that had to be tackled. She’d had reports of Sheila not having enough cash to pay in the local shops, and forgetting to collect her pension. Honestly, her mother was half daft!
The family were all concerned, and knew that something was going to have to be organized if Sheila was to continue living safely in Willow Grove. They decided that her mother’s home help Sylvie – who’d been persuaded to return – would come in for a few extra hours during the week, and that at weekends they would all take turns looking after Sheila. Paddy was the best in the world and made Helen’s mother welcome almost every weekend, but now her brothers would have to give a hand, too.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Helen O’Connor was determined that their weekend away in Wicklow would be relaxing. The past few weeks had been total calamity, between the situation with Amy and Dan, the constant worry of her mother, and Paddy having to work longer hours to make up for the reduction in staff at his firm. Paddy and she were both in dire need of a holiday from the stress and strains of the family. A break at Glebe House was definitely what they needed!
Amy, to all outward appearances, seemed to be coping with her break-up from Dan but Helen couldn’t help worrying about her. Ciara was demented, studying for exams and warning that she was going to fail them; and Sheila had given them all another scare when she had tripped in the back garden as she was putting clothes on the washing line. Helen had just called in at Willow Grove with some shopping when she’d discovered Sheila sitting on the grass with cuts to her knee and hands, and a bit of bruising. The injuries were minor, but yet again Sheila hadn’t been able to remember exactly what had happened.
The local GP had been fantastic, but had confirmed that Sheila’s age was beginning to take its toll, and that she definitely had the gradual onset of a dementia-type illness. Helen found that she was visiting Sheila almost every day or bringing her over to their place. Despite Sheila’s health and memory beginning to fail, she was insistent that she was fine. This weekend, at least, Helen’s brother Tim and his wife Linda were on duty and responsible for keeping an eye on Sheila. Old age was awful and Helen dreaded watching her mother’s decline!
Driving through the Glen of the Downs she could feel herself begin to unwind. It was good to escape to their favourite haunt and leave the family and work and the city behind them. Paddy had to be forced to take a break from the office, even though it was only for a weekend, and she had insisted he leave his laptop at home. For the past six months he’d been working far too hard, trying to chase down contracts and get money in to the small firm he ran. Glancing at him, she could see how tired he was. Two of his staff were on a three-day week. Business might be cut back, but thank heaven boilers and machinery still needed fixing and replacing, and the business was holding its own.
‘Isn’t the countryside glorious?’ she remarked as they passed green field after green field, and a wooded copse speckled with sunlight.
‘The weather forecast is good, so we should be able to get a few walks in,’ Paddy answered.
She loved the way she could always rely on Paddy to watch the weather forecast and tell her what to expect. Funny how a few nice walks, some good food, two or three bottles of wine and the chance to spend some time together was paradise at their age. Simple pleasures: those were what they both enjoyed, and her heart lifted as they turned off the busy roadway and up into the drive of Glebe House, its avenue flanked by a border of rhododendrons and tall elegant oak trees.
The pale painted walls of the old manor house welcomed them, shining through the greenery as they came to a halt on the gravelled car park to the side of the house. Everything looked the same as ever, she thought, as she reached for Paddy’s hand. Bluebells danced on the lawn, and bright red tulips spilled from the beds and tubs and stone containers around the old house. They grabbed their bags and headed inside. A fire glowed in the grate in the hallway as they made their way to the small reception desk at the back. Helen smiled, noting the piles of walking shoes left near the front door.
‘Hello, Mr and Mrs O’Connor,’ welcomed the owner’s daughter, Trudy Hanlon. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘It’s been about six months since we’ve been here, but it’s lovely to get the chance of a break away.’
‘I’ve put you in one of the lake rooms, the corner one,’ smiled the petite dark-haired young woman, who was so like her mother, Eve.
Helen smiled back. There was nothing like having a beautiful big bedroom with a magnificent view of the rippling water and lakeshore even from the bed.
‘That’s wonderful, Trudy. Thanks.’
‘Will
I book you in for dinner tonight?’
‘Of course,’ said Paddy, passing back the registration form and his credit-card details. ‘You run the best restaurant in these parts. It’s well worth the drive.’
Upstairs in the room they unpacked quickly, and Helen noticed that Paddy was out of breath after insisting on carrying their bags himself. Their room, with its enormous double bed, pristine white bedlinen and plush aubergine-coloured throw, had recently been done up. The faded rose-patterned chintzy look had been replaced by a far more modern decor, which somehow made the place more stylish and elegant. There were two cosy armchairs in an olive-green colour, with purple and green cushions, and an oak writing desk with a bunch of tulips in a clear glass vase.
‘The place looks great,’ said Paddy approvingly, as he hung his jacket in the wardrobe.
‘It’s lovely. We must congratulate Eve when we see her,’ Helen agreed, taking in the power shower and shiny new white-tiled bathroom.
‘What about a stroll down by the lake? And then we can have some afternoon tea,’ Paddy suggested. ‘A bit of a walk will do us good.’
It was quiet down by the lake. The water reeds danced in the light breeze and a busy heron was flying over the water occasionally diving in his quest for fish. Helen could feel Paddy relax as they walked along hand in hand. Lately he had looked tired and pale, and she hoped the break away together would give them both a chance to unwind. He was so caught up with work, but she had been equally at fault: preoccupied by all that was going on with her mother and Amy. Paddy and she barely got any time together, and if they did seemed to spend it talking about family problems.
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