Louise was looking over the wooden rail of the mezzanine floor. They had just ordered their food and Alan had excused himself to go to the “little boys’ room”. Louise was scanning the ground floor to see if there were any celebrities there. She almost fell off her chair when she saw Carl Dunne sitting below, his hand wrapped around a woman’s, as they sipped champagne. Louise couldn’t see the woman’s face because her back was to her but one thing she was sure of, it wasn’t his namby-pamby wife, the stuck-up Rachel. This woman had a short straight black bob, not Rachel’s long silky blonde hair.
Taking her phone, Louise focused on them and took a photo. Carl then stroked the woman’s cheek and she reached forward and kissed him fully on the lips. Louise snapped again. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The adoring husband caught in the act.
Just then, the waiter approached the couple’s table and the woman turned. Louise gasped in shock. She recognised Zita instantly. She snapped again. Wow! Who would believe it? She sniggered with glee. My, oh my, so Ronan’s friends weren’t all he made them out to be. Holier than thou indeed! She remembered the disgust on his face the last time she’d seen him. Well, she’d show him that his poncy friends weren’t any better than she was. Hah! What a stroke of luck. She laughed aloud at the thought.
When Alan came back to the table he saw that she was in high spirits.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Nothing at all,” she lied, hugging the secret to herself. Alan would never understand.
Ronan rang Rachel to wish her bon voyage and was surprised that she was not in better spirits.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “You don’t sound very excited for someone about to spend a whole glorious month in the south of France.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but I’m really not looking forward to it. Carl and I have some issues that we have to sort out and I’m not looking forward to that.”
“I guessed something of the kind. You haven’t been your usual happy self lately.”
“Oh boy, do I know! It’s because I hardly see Carl anymore and when I do I hardly recognise the man I married.”
“That happens,” Ronan said sadly, thinking of the disintegration of his own marriage.
“So, I’m going to take this time in France to see if we can get back on track and if not . . . ? Well, I don’t want to think about that possibility.” She sounded very determined.
“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “I do hope you can work things out. Maybe that was why you were drinking.”
“It was. Some people comfort-eat, I was comfort-drinking.” She laughed a hollow laugh.
“The main thing is you found that out and you’ve stopped. Listen, I really hope that you can work things out with Carl.”
“Thanks, Ronan, you’re a star.” She felt tears prick her eyes. “Well, I’d better go finish packing. Take care, Ronan.”
“You too and you have my number if you ever need me. Remember, I’m only a phone call away, even from France. Have a great holiday!”
“I will, thanks.”
She hung up, a lump in her throat. He was a good friend indeed.
54
The following day Ellie drove with her parents down to Athlone to choose the wedding cake. Killinure Cakes was based outside the small village of Glasson which was so pretty, overlooking Lough Rea and choc-a-bloc with cute little restaurants. They decided to make a day of it and, as luck would have it, it was a glorious sunny day.
They dropped Ellie’s father in the golf club which was only a stone’s throw from where they had to go. It was a small cottage industry that the young woman, Katie,ran in her own kitchen which had a gorgeous aroma of baking coming from it. They sat in her living room where she showed them photographs of wedding cakes she had made. They were spectacular and, when they heard how reasonable the prices were compared to those they had checked in Dublin, they almost passed out with disbelief.
While Katiewas making coffee for them, her two adorable children chatted shyly to Ellie and her mother.
Sipping the coffee along with some homemade cake, they agreed that if the wedding cake tasted anything like what they were eating, it would indeed be a great success.
Katie asked Ellie what ideas she had for the centrepiece of her special day and after an hour discussing various options they finally came up with the perfect cake. Delighted with the outcome they waved goodbye, thrilled that they’d made the journey down from Dublin. It had been well worth it.
They picked her father up from the golf club where he was deep in conversation with some other golfers. Ellie then took them to The Wineport for lunch. She’d seen it on television on the Celebrity Chef programme and wanted to treat her parents to a special meal. It didn’t disappoint and after a trip into Athlone they headed for home, content that another piece of the jigsaw that was her wedding reception was in place.
“You know, I’m really glad the salon closed down. Chloe’s doing great out on her own and I realise now that I wasn’t really happy there at all. Working for Sam is so much more interesting and the wine business is fascinating. I just love it!”
Her eyes were shining as she spoke and her mother crossed her fingers and hoped that Sam would keep her on in this job. It was obvious that she was perfect for it and she hoped Sam saw that too.
Sam had indeed seen it. Ellie had been a revelation to him. She was brilliant on the computer and had a great way with all the customers. They were constantly singing her praises. And as for the French producers – she seemed to have them under her spell. Her personality and her grasp of the French language had them all eating out of her hand.
“Ooh la la, cette Ellie, elle est magnifique!” he heard more than once. Yes, she is wonderful, he agreed with them.
Not that poor Sylvia hadn’t been a good PA, but her people skills left a lot to be desired and her grasp of French – well, he didn’t want to go there! She was much happier taking over the online business and God knows he needed someone to do that for him. He just didn’t have the time anymore. Added to that, she and Ellie were getting on like a house on fire and the atmosphere in the office was positively light-hearted and fun.
Yes, he had some big decisions to make. Well, actually, no, he had made them. He was going to ask Ellie to stay on as his PA. He hoped she’d accept.
55
All was chaos in the Dunne household as they prepared for their month’s holiday in the South of France. Rachel’s father was taking them to the airport and was tapping his feet impatiently as Rachel scurried around like a lunatic, doing last-minute chores. Paloma was coming with them and she followed them in a taxi with the luggage.The children wanted to go in the taxi too, of course, but Rachel put her foot down. They were hyper with excitement and she was terrified one of them might go missing at the airport – far safer to keep them in her sights. Finally she’d got them settled in the car as Carl set the alarm and locked the door. At last they were on their way. One whole month of bliss! They couldn’t wait to get there.
Zita stayed in bed until midday that morning. All she could think of was Carl swanning off with his happy little family to the Côte d’Azur, not giving her a second thought. She could just imagine Rachel with her fabulous body, lying on a sun lounger, her olive skin turning a deep mahogany while her two perfect blonde children splashed in the pool. She tried to cut Carl out of this idyllic picture but she couldn’t. He was very much a part of it, his blond hair becoming blonder and his blue eyes bluer against his golden tan. She pictured him bringing Rachel a cocktail and then them making love in the balmy night air. She felt she would go crazy but she couldn’t get that picture out of her mind.
She couldn’t resist sending him a text: Missing u dreadfully. Hope ur missing me Zxx. He didn’t text her back.
Ronan and Sam arrived in Blessington at noon on Sunday to find a wonderful lunch awaiting them. Sam had met Doris before when she came to visit Fiona in the apartment but this was the first time he had visited her home.
r /> “Congratulations, sweetie! You look marvellous,” he said as he hugged Fiona “Where’s this little fellow of yours then?”
She pointed to the pram where Oisín was sleeping peacefully.
Sam looked in at him and was amazed to see how tiny he was. “Gosh, were we all that small once?” he asked, his voice full of awe.
“I guess so,” Ronan said, laughing as he hugged Fiona and Doris.
Sam had brought Oisín a silver money-box into which he’d placed a large euro note. Ronan’s gift was a silver frame which he’d had engraved with Oisín’s name, date of birth and birth weight. Also, thanks to his redundancy money, hecould now afford to give Fiona a substantial cheque for Oisín, to buy whatever she wantedwith it. He knew that supplying a small baby with everything it needed could be very expensive and Fiona had limited means now and no support from the father.
“Thank you, Sam,” she said, kissing him as she saw the money-box with the €100 note sticking up out of it. “I’ll be able to borrow off him now.”
They all laughed. She read his card and put it on the mantelpiece with all the other cards.
Then she opened Ronan’s present. “Oh, that’s lovely, Ronan! How sweet of you to have it engraved.” She showed it to her mother who added her appreciation. She then opened his card and gasped in shock at the cheque for €500. “Oh, Ronan, I couldn’t possibly accept this,” she cried. “It’s far too much.”
“Of course you can. As his godfather I would like to have bought his bedroom furniture or pram or something but I wouldn’t have a clue what to get, so I’ll leave it up to you to get whatever you need for him.”
Fiona reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re far too good.”
“Come along, boys,” called Doris, seeing that her daughter was getting emotional. “Lunch is ready.”
They sat down and surveyed the wonderful spread.
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” Ronan protested.
“Nonsense! It could be well nigh on five before we get to eat this afternoon and I know how hungry young men can get,” Doris proclaimed.
“It’s been a while since anyone called me a young man,” Ronan laughed and Sam and Fiona joined in.
“It’s all relative,” Doris declared, cutting some of her delicious homemade soda bread for them. They devoured everything with gusto.
When lunch was over Fiona lifted the baby for a feed before dressing him up for the grand occasion.
“Can I hold him?” Sam asked to Fiona’s surprise. He took him very gently from her and rocked him in his arms as he talked to him. Oisín stared up at him, eyes unblinking.
“You’ll make some girl a great husband someday,” Ronan teased him.
“Not on your life!” Sam answered with a snort as he handed the baby to Fiona. “I’m not the marrying kind.”
The christening went off without a hitch. Oisín never made a sound, not even when the water was poured on his head. Ronan was very proud of him, as was Fiona.
After the church ceremony they moved on to Tulfarris House, a lovely hotel overlooking the lakes where they gathered for a wonderful meal and a fun evening.
They took numerous photographs outside and when Ronan held Oisín in his arms he felt a lump come into his throat. His biggest regret in life was that he and Louise had never had a child. He guessed there wasn’t much chance of it happening for him now. He couldn’t ever see himself getting married again. Once bitten, twice shy, he figured.
Fiona searched Sam out and drew him into a quiet corner.
“I’m a little tiddly,” Fiona laughed. “After nine months without alcohol, even one glass now goes to my head. I wanted to talk to you, Sam.” She was looking very serious. “Having Oisín has changed my life completely.”
“I can imagine,” he remarked. “In more ways than one.”
“That’s it. Nothing prepared me for how I would feel about him. I can’t bear to be away from him for two seconds.”
“I have a feeling you’re trying to tell me something.” He raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve decided I won’t be returning to work, not in the foreseeable future anyway. He’s too little to leave him in a crèche with strangers and I wouldn’t expect you to keep the job open for me. I hope you understand.” She looked at him worriedly.
“Don’t worry,” he patted her hand. “Having met Oisín I can understand how you feel.”
“If you didn’t have Ronan, I wouldn’t let you down, you know.”
“I know that,” he smiled at her. “He is working out really well. I’m actually doing an overhaul of the shops at the moment so I’m glad you told me now rather than later when I’d have to maybe change things again. But if you ever do feel like coming back, you know I’ll always find a place for you somewhere.”
“I’m so glad you understand. Thank you, Sam. You and Ronan are two fantastic guys.”
“You enjoy that little man,” Sam said, giving her a hug before returning to the party.
Ronan returned to Dublin with Sam that evening having decided that, as he had a lift, he didn’t need to stay overnight. It had been a fabulous day.
“Fiona is so happy with the baby. She’ll make a wonderful mother,” Sam observed.
“Yes, indeed,” Ronan agreed. “I realise now what I’m missing.” He sighed.
“I’m thinking of renting out my house and looking for something smaller. It holds too many memories for me. It’s hard to move on when Louise has been such a large part of my life there.”
“Good idea,” his friend advised.
That night Sam sat deep in thought as he considered how Fiona’s decision would affect his own. He had some serious thinking to do. Mmmm . . . things might work out well for everybody. Behind every cloud . . .
56
The second night that Rachel and Carl were in Cannes, they went out for dinner alone together. She chose a bottle of Burgundy Meurseult white wine to go with the starter of scallops and the main course of bass they’d ordered. It was delicious and he had to admit that she certainly had learnt a lot about wine since she’d started that course.
They walked along the promenade, La Croisette, afterwards and Carl suggested that they go into the Carlton Hotel for a drink.
“A Perrier, please,” Rachel ordered from the handsome young waiter.
“A Perrier,” Carl asked her, shocked. “Wouldn’t you like a glass of champagne?”
“No, thanks.” She looked at him levelly. “A Perrier is fine.”
For some reason it made him uncomfortable. He’d intended tackling her about her drinking while they were here in France but it looked like he’d nothing to criticise any more.
“I think it’s time you and I had a serious talk,” Rachel began.
“About what?” he asked, sipping the Jack Daniels that he’d ordered.
“About us, our marriage, where it’s going,” she replied coolly.
“I think we’re fine.”
“Well, no, actually, we’re not.”
He watched her sipping her Perrier, cool as a cucumber, and felt a fear grip his insides.
“I strongly suspect that you’re having an affair back home. If you are, then I think you should at least be honourable enough to admit it.”
Carl saw his whole world crumble before his eyes. What did she know? How should he proceed? He did as he always did when cornered – he acted like the wronged one.
“How can you even think that?” he cried. “It’s not worthy of you – of us!”
“Are you denying it?”
“Of course!I love you. You’re my life. I couldn’t do it without you.” He looked at her in anguish.
“Oh, really? It doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing. Politics is your life. You love you. Being admired and worshipped by people who don’t really know you and who don’t care a shit about you, that’s your life, but it’s not mine.” She paused, then continued, her voice calm and col
lected, “I’ve supported you in everything you’ve done because I love you,but if I’d known that it was going to change you so much then I’d never have gone along with it.”
“Please, Rachel,” he begged, taking her hand, “don’t be so hard on me. I love you! Come on, have a glass of champagne or a glass of wine at least.” He beckoned to the waiter.
“Sorry, I don’t want anything,” Rachel smilingly told the young man.
“I’ll have another Jack Daniels, please,” Carl said.
The waiter hurried off.
“Why aren’t you drinking, Rachel,” he asked, perplexed.
“Because I realise I’ve been drinking as a substitute for having you in my life. I’m not doing that anymore.”
Although he wasn’t quite sober Carl heard what she was saying. In that moment he admired her greatly. She was one classy broad, his wife. In an instant he realised how much he would miss her if she should desert him. But he knew Rachel would never do that. She treasured the family too much. Still, she’d given him quite a scare. Life without Rachel – and the kids? Unthinkable! He knew, with his politician’s instinct, that it was time to eat humble pie. He’d make it up to her. He had a whole month in Cannes to woo her back. He felt confident that he could do it. Yes, siree. He could and he would!
Zita was miserable. She missed Carl desperately. She’d texted him almost every day but he hadn’t replied once. She was beginning to fear that he might have forgotten about her altogether as he sunned himself on the French Riviera. Her jealousy of Rachel knew no bounds and she found herself thinking of ways that she could wipe the smile off her smug face.
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