“Is everything okay with you, Ronan? You seem very quiet tonight,” he enquired as they walked to the pub.
“Had a bad weekend,” Ronan replied in a low voice. “I don’t want the others to know but my wife’s left me.”
“Oh God, man, I’m so sorry,” Sam said, putting his arm around Ronan’s shoulders. “That’s a shit thing to happen.”
“Yeah, well, things haven’t been good for a while but now she’s met someone else.”
Sam didn’t know what to say. Anything he could say would sound like a platitude. “God, I’m sorry. You’re really having it all thrown at you at the moment,” was all he could manage. “Listen, if you want to take a couple of days off, we’ll manage in the shop somehow.”
“No, no,” Ronan was adamant. “I need to keep busy. Keep my mind off things. Thanks anyway, Sam.”
When they reached the Castle, Zita and Rachel sat together making arrangements for the interview that Zita was planning to do with Rachel the following Wednesday. It meant her ‘Pamper Rachel Day’ would be cancelled but Rachel reckoned being interviewed for a TV show could be considered pampering of a sort. After the interview in the morning, they would have lunch in the canteen and then Zita would show her around the studios and let her see behind the scenes of some programmes in action.It was all so exciting.
31
Dermot was in the shop when Ronan arrived on Tuesday morning.
“Listen, Ronan, Sam told me you weren’t feeling too good last night so if you’d like to take the day off, that’s no problem. I can manage on my own. It won’t be a busy day.”
“No, I’ll be fine, thanks anyway, Dermot.”
“Well, if you do need a break, just tell me.”
Ronan was very grateful but working was the only thing that would keep him sane.He wondered what Louise would do next and whether she’d want him to sell the house. There would be no point as it was in negative equity anyway. Any money they’d get for it would all go to the building society, that’s presuming they could sell in this terrible economic climate.She’d said she wanted nothing from him. He hoped she meant it. His main priority now was to keep paying the mortgage and to clear her debts. At least she couldn’t spend anymore of his hard-earned money. He wondered if this new guy knew just what he was letting himself in for.
A new delivery had arrived from Burgundy and Ronan was happy to be kept busy unloading it and placing it on the shelves.
Sam had lent him Hugh Johnson’s Wine Atlas and he often stayed reading it into the small hours of the morning. As a result his knowledge of wine was growing daily and he felt quite confident now advising customers. The regulars were getting to know him and found him very pleasant.
Fiona came down as usual for tea that afternoon and knew instantly that things were wrong.
“What is it,” she asked after Ronan had poured the tea.
“Louise has left me.”
“What?” Her cup clattered back down in her saucer.
Ronan told her the whole story from start to finish and was surprised to see tears in her eyes when he’d finished.
“Sorry, my hormones are all over the place at the moment,” she said, wiping her eyes. “How awful for you – but, you know, as the song says – Judy Garland, wasn’t it? –when a cloud appears you must look for the silver lining. You weren’t very happy together, were you?”
“No, in fact – but I’m just thinking of something Judy Garland said once.” He gave a half-smile. “She said that behind every cloud was another cloud.”
Fiona laughed. “Well, you’ve had your two clouds – first losing your job and now your marriage. It can only get better. There must be a silver lining coming up.”
“I hope you’re right,” he smiled, pouring another cup of tea for her.
Ellie had bought two bottles of that lovely Amarone wine from Sam for the girls although it was more expensive than what she usually bought. Still, she had to show them that she was learning something on the wine course. Indeed, her taste in wine had changed. Jacob’s Creek no longer seemed like the best wine in the world to her. Yes, Italy was where it was at. She hoped her friends would be impressed by her choice. You never knew with Sandrine!
She prepared some olives which she dressed with olive oil and herbs and some Italian pecorino cheese and water biscuits. It all looked very elegant and she was very pleased with the result. It was a far cry from the Tayto and popcorn and usual plonk she served. Her mother was surprised and pleased with this new sophisticated streak her daughter was developing.
Sandrine was the first to arrive and was impressed with the nibbles Ellie had set out. Then she tasted the wine. “Wow, this wine is lovely. What is it?”
“It’s an Amarone, from Italy.”
Sandrine raised one perfectly threaded eyebrow. “Amarone? I’ve never heard of that before.” She was quite put out. She had always been the sophisticated one in the family and here was her kid sister showing her up.
“Ellie has some fantastic news, haven’t you, darling?” their mother said, turning to her youngest daughter.
“Yes. David and I found the cutest house at the weekend.”
She was smiling broadly, her dimples annoying her sister as they always did. How come Ellie got all the pretty genes from their mother?
“Really,” she asked coolly, raising her arched eyebrows enquiringly. “And where, pray do tell me? Killester? Marino?” She’d mentioned the nearest areas to Clontarf possible.
“No, actually. It’s in Sandymount.” Ellie was a little hurt by her sister’s sarcasm. She wished that just for once Sandrine would be happy for her.
“Sandymount?” Sandrine practically screeched. “But that’s on the southside!”
“I know but it only took us eight minutes forty seconds to get from there to here. We even timed it,” Ellie announced, unaware of the jealousy her sister was feeling.
“Well, I must say you’re a dark horse. In my wildest dreams I never thought you’d go south of the Liffey,” Sandrine sniffed, greatly put out by this piece of news. “I daresay David finally got you to see sense.” She opened up her laptop. “I’ve been doing some research for your wedding.”
“Research?” Ellie looked at her enquiringly.
“Yes, I’ve sussed out a beautiful dress for you and for us bridesmaids, and also flowers. I’ve also made out a menu that I think would be perfect for the reception and –”
“Hang on just a minute,” Ellie cried, looking at the file Sandrine had just opened up. It wastitled ‘ELLIE’S WEDDING’.
She looked at her sister disbelievingly. “Sandrine, this is my wedding and I want to choose my own dress – in fact, I’ve already found it, haven’t I, Mum?” She turned to her mother for confirmation.
“Yes, and it’s beautiful, really beautiful,” Marie-Noelle confirmed.
“You can’t buy a wedding dress in Dublin!” Sandrine cried. “They’re far too expensive. You have to take a photo of the one you like and then send it to these people in China who make it up for you at about a twentieth of the price.”
Ellie was horrified. “It can’t possibly be the same. The quality and material can’t be as good at that price. And what about the fit? How can it be perfect if they can’t fit it on you?”
“It’s only for one day.”
Ellie felt close to tears. Yes, it was only for one day but it would be the most important day of her life.
“The dress was perfect on Ellie,” Marie-Noelle interjected, seeing how upset her younger daughter had become. “And she has the money for it, thanks toUncle Matt’s inheritance.” Sandrine had used hers to buy her Kia car.
“That’s not the point –” Sandrine started but thankfully was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.
Marie-Noelle breathed a sigh of relief to see that Keisha and Chloe had arrived. She hoped they would diffuse this conflict that seemed inevitable every time her two daughters got together. Ellie poured wine for them and, when they were all seated, she sh
owed them the photo she’d taken on her phone of the wedding dress she’d found.
The girls exclaimed loudly at how beautiful it was.
“Yeah, I’ve definitely decided on it. They’re holding it for me till next Saturday,” she told them ignoring the disapproving face of her sister.
“Now for our dresses,” Sandrine said, turning her laptop around so they could all see the screen. “I think it would be nice if we all wore white, like at Kim Kardashian’s wedding.”
Her mother and the two other girls all looked at Ellie who obviously didn’t like the idea.
“That marriage didn’t exactly last very long, did it?” Ellie commented.
“Seventy-two days,” Keisha, who was a huge Kardashian fan, confirmed.
“I think there’s a tradition that only the bride wears white at a wedding,” Marie-Noelle observed.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Keisha agreed.
“Anyway, I look crap in white. My skin’s too fair,” Chloe added.
“But the Kardashians –”
“To hell with the Kardashians,” Ellie said through gritted teeth. “This is my wedding and I’d appreciate if you’d butt out. Okay?”
“I was only trying to help,” Sandrine replied sulkily.
“Well, I was thinking of having a white and pale-gold theme for the whole wedding. What do you all think of pale gold for the bridesmaids’ dresses?”
“Sounds great! Cool!” Chloe and Keisha chorused together.
“Isn’t it a bit insipid?” Sandrine pronounced tartly. “I think a dark burgundy or black would be nice.”
“Not black!” the others, including Marie-Noelle, chorused in horror.
“It’s not a funeral,” Ellie remarked. “I think the best thing is to have a look on Saturday at what they have in Bridal Heaven before we make a final decision.
“Mmmm, this cheese is yummy,” Chloe said, as she speared another cube. “What is it?”
“Pecorino,” Ellie informed her. “It’s Italian.”
Sandrine looked at her sister in surprise. My, my, she thought, Ellie has certainly changed a lot since she met David. He has obviously been introducing her to the finer things in life. Poor David! He really is making a huge mistake. He has no idea what he’s letting himself in for. My little sister has always been thoroughly spoilt by everybody and no doubt will expect him to do the same.She looked on disapprovingly as Ellie and her two friends chatted and talked about girly things. They really were too silly for words.
Ellie declined to look at Sandrine’s suggestions for the flowers and menu for the wedding.
“I have a fair idea of what I want,” Ellie put her down subtly.
Sandrine left shortly afterwards, her tail between her legs, mumbling about the ingratitude of some people.
32
Rachel was up bright and early on Wednesday for her big day in the TV studio. She dropped the children to school and whizzed into the hair salon in Sutton. Keisha had done such a nice job on her hair for the night of the party that she was now popping in frequently for a wash and blow-dry.
Next she went into Ellie’s beauty salon where she’d made an appointment for a manicure. She had considered having her make-up done there but Zita had assured her that the make-up department at the station would take care of that.
“Best of luck! Have a great day,” Ellie wished her as she left in a state of high excitement.
“God, some women have all the luck,” Chloe sighed as Rachel waved goodbye.
Zita came to meet Rachel when Reception called to say she had arrived. She took her up to the office where she explained to her how the interview would go and told her the kind of questions she could expect.
“Don’t worry about anything because we are pre-recording it. If there’s anything you’re not happy about, we can always re-shoot it.”
Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I don’t know how people do live interviews. I’d be a nervous wreck.”
“You’ll be fine,” Zita assured her before taking her down to meet the producer, Jason.
Rachel disliked him instantly.
“We’ve decided to let Zita do the interview as she’s a friend of yours.”
Rachel could feel the tension between Zita and the producer.
After that, Zita took her down to make-up and introduced her to the women there who were very friendly and did a fabulous job on her face.
At last they were ready to start the interview.
Initially Rachel was nervous, but Zita quickly put her at her ease and she relaxed. She answered all the questions as best she could and Zita seemed happy.
“It’s a wrap!” Zita said at last as she heard the message from the producer coming through her earpiece. “Well done!”
“Whew, that wasn’t so bad,” Rachel smiled. “I felt like I was talking just to you alone.”
“That’s why you were so good. It’s a really good interview. You were great!”
To Zita’s surprise, she meant it. Rachel had been a very good interviewee. At lunch Zita produced a bottle of white wine and they toasted each other.
“I think you’ve earned this,” Zita smiled as she clinked her glass against Rachel’s.
“You’ve got such an interesting job. Every day is different.” Rachel’s voice was admiring.
“I do love working in television but you wouldn’t believe how chauvinist it is. Jason is really not that good a producer but he had political pull – so, although I’ve a lot more experience, he got the job. It infuriates me sometimes.”
“I can imagine,” Rachel said sympathetically.
“Now there’s another producer job going but no doubt I’ll be by-passed yet again for some stupid guy.”
She sounded bitter and Rachel couldn’t blame her. She’d heard this happened often.
“Could Carl help you, do you think?”
“Probably. Jason was promoted just before the previous government left office. Now that Carl’s party is in, who knows?”
“I’ll talk to him about it,” Rachel said, indignant on her friend’s behalf.
“It’s a man’s world out there unfortunately, even in this day and age,” Zita observed bitterly.
“Oh believe me, I know it. Especially in politics.”
“Yes, indeed. In the television world too. We women need to stick together,” Zita stated vehemently.
“Absolutely! I’ll definitely have a word with Carl about it.”
“That’s very good of you, Rachel. It would be great if he could help. Now, let’s get back to work! As I explained, we would like to have some footage of you going about your daily life. We’ll follow you around with the cameras as you do your normal duties. I’ll ring you to arrange a suitable date, preferably when you have a full-diary day.”
“Great. I’ll think about what might be the best day.”
The rest of the day went swimmingly as Rachel watched the most popular soap on Irish TV being filmed. She could not believe how fake it all was. On the small screen it all seemed so real.
“I’ve had a fantastic day. Thank you so much,” she said as she hugged Zita. “And I really will talk to Carl tonight about your promotion.”
“You’re very kind. I appreciate it.” Zita wanted to punch the air. “See you next Monday.” God, Rachel was nice but so naïve, she thought as she went back to her office to view the day’s work.
Rachel was well into her customary nightly bottle of wine when Carl arrived home that night.
“Well, how did it go at the TV studios?” he asked, pouring himself a generous whiskey.
“Fabulous! Zita wants to follow me around for a day and to film me with you, meeting constituents and such like. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. Any publicity is good publicity.” He took a long slug of his drink. “When does she want to do this?”
“I’ll choose a date when I have a lunch and some charity meetings – one that suits you too of course.” Her eyes were shining and Carl could see
that she was thrilled with the whole thing. “I even thought that a Monday would be good and they could film a little of the wine course. That would be fun.”
“Well, you’d have to square it with Sam and the other students, of course. Sam probably wouldn’t mind – it would be good publicity for him – but some of the other students might not like it.”
“Oh, I’m sure they won’t mind,” Rachel said confidently.
“Just check with them in advance,” he warned her. “And make sure you don’t choose a Wednesday and have the whole country think you do nothing but pamper yourself all day.”
“Of course not.” She looked at him frowning,hurt by his words.
“How did you find Zita?” he asked casually.
“Fantastic! She’s so professional and good at her job.”
She then proceeded to tell him how Zita had been passed over for promotion as a producer because of political pull.
“That kind of corruption has been rife for so long in this country. And now you say poor Zita was one of the casualties.” He poured another whiskey for himself as Rachel poured the last of her wine.
“Well, she’s up for promotion to producer again. I thought maybe you could do something to help her.” She looked at him appealingly.
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need to talk to her first though.”
“Oh, that’s great, darling. She’ll be delighted. I’ll give you her number.” She fished in her bag and took out Zita’s card. “Here,” she said handing it over. “She’ll be ever so grateful.”
I certainly hope so, Carl thought wryly as he pocketed the card.
Sandrine was still feeling miffed when she rang David on Wednesday evening.
“We really should get a life,” she joked when she realised that he was working late too.
“So how are you?” he asked his future sister-in-law.
“A bit pissed off to tell you the truth, David. Ellie is really most ungrateful. I went to loads of trouble, Googling sites for dresses and other stuff to save her the trouble but she didn’t want to know any of it.”
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