Peter hooted. ‘That’s putting it mildly.’
‘Peter!’ Stella gave him an admonishing frown.
‘It’s fine,’ Lesley said. ‘He’s absolutely right. It was just something I was trying out as a side hustle, really.’
‘What’s your main job?’ Peter asked.
‘IT,’ she said. ‘Web design, SEO, that sort of thing.’
‘Oh.’ Stella looked relieved. ‘Well, I must admit I’ve never heard squawking seagulls or howling children mentioned before during a meditation.’
‘Or an advert for the Jo Malone scented candle range,’ Al said.
‘I think my favourite bit was when you brought the fire irons into play and said “you’re back in the room” like some hokey stage hypnotist,’ Peter said.
‘Okay, so I need to work on my patter.’
They all laughed.
‘Best leave meditation teaching to the top Buddhists of Rathmines,’ Peter said.
12
On Friday afternoon, Lesley was packing for a weekend away with Al.
‘So where’s he taking you?’ Romy asked.
‘I don’t know. Somewhere down the country. It’s a surprise.’ Lesley held the phone to her ear as she tossed underwear into the little suitcase open on her bed.
‘Oh, very romantic!’
‘It’s a nuisance is what it is. You know I don’t like surprises.’
‘Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.’
Romy was under strict instructions to give Lesley plenty of notice if anyone was ever planning a surprise party for her.
‘I mean, how am I supposed to know what to pack?’ She held up a floaty silk top, wondering if they would be going somewhere dressy enough for her to wear it.
‘Just bring a bit of everything.’
‘What about togs? Do you think I should bring them?’
‘Might as well, just in case. There might be a pool.’
‘Or a spa,’ Lesley said despondently.
Romy laughed. ‘There probably won’t be.’ She knew Lesley hated spas.
‘Anyway,’ Lesley continued as she went to the drawers, ‘Al will be here soon. He’s picking me up and we’re going in his car. No one else knows about him yet, so if anything happens to me, it’ll be up to you to finger him to the police.’
‘Okay.’
‘And you can tell them I was last seen wearing black jeans, black suede boots and that purple wrap top, you know the one? Hang on, I’ll take a selfie and send it to you.’
‘He’s probably not planning to do away with you, you know.’
‘I know, but at least if he does, they’ll have something to go on. I’d hate to leave behind a messy case with no leads.’
‘So your family don’t know about your new fake boyfriend?’
‘Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.’ Lesley still hadn’t changed her Facebook status, but she knew she couldn’t put it off much longer. ‘Then they’ll all be wetting their knickers with excitement and wanting to have him round for Sunday dinner.’ She sighed. ‘You know what they’re like.’ Her mother would have her married off to Al already, and Katrina would be itching to get a look at him so she could start picking faults.
‘Right.’ She squashed one last pair of shoes into the case and zipped it closed. ‘I’ll text you later to let you know where I am. And I’ll get a photo of his car reg and send it to you.’
‘Wow, the evidence is mounting against him already and you haven’t even left the house.’ Romy laughed. ‘Well, have a great time. I hope it’s somewhere lovely and spa-free.’
‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ Al said when he picked her up just after two. ‘I had a site visit this morning that went on longer than expected.’
‘No problem,’ Lesley said as he took her case from her and led the way to his car. He put her case in the boot, then went around to the passenger side and held the door open for her.
‘So, where are we off to?’ she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.
‘Doonbeg, in Clare. We’re going to stay with my aunt Jane.’
‘Oh.’ Lesley tried not to look too put out, but she’d been secretly hoping for a five-star boutique hotel (sans spa) or an exclusive country house that specialised in amazing yet hearty food. Then it dawned on her that he was talking about Jane Howard, Peter’s ex-wife. The Howard family were Irish theatrical royalty, and Lesley had fond memories of Jane playing the starring role in a TV series of Jane Austen’s Emma when she was a teen. But she’d given up acting and was now a successful writer of historical novels.
‘She wants to discuss Peter’s engagement. She’s quite worried about the whole thing, and since neither of my cousins are in the country at the moment, I said I’d go see her.’
‘Well, you might have told me,’ Lesley huffed. She would have made more of an effort if she’d known they were going to meet his famous aunt.
‘Why? You’ll like Jane,’ Al said, with what Lesley supposed was meant to be a reassuring smile.
‘But I would have dressed up a bit more if I’d known we were going to stay with Jane Howard.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Aunt Jane doesn’t set the bar very high. In fact, she’s pretty scruffy when she’s knocking around at home.’
‘Gee, thanks a lot!’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. You look great.’
‘So is she your aunt by marriage?’
‘No, she’s my mum’s sister. And Dad and Peter are brothers.’
‘So the two sisters married two brothers?’ No wonder Al’s family seemed so close-knit. ‘Does she live on her own?’
‘Yes, since she split up with Peter. I thought she might move after the divorce, but she’s very attached to the place. It’s her old family home – quite grand, or at least it used to be. But it’s fallen to rack and ruin a bit in the last few years. I’ve made plans for renovating it, but she can’t bear the upheaval, and I’ve never managed to persuade her to move out for long enough to get it done. So it’s a bit of a wreck, really.’
Oh well, Lesley thought, at least there wouldn’t be a spa.
Al’s car was a point in his favour, Lesley decided, as they bowled along the motorway. She liked four-wheel drives, but unfortunately most people driving them around Dublin had to be written off as wankers, thus cancelling out all their cachet. But as an architect, she figured Al had a legitimate excuse for having the Land Rover, evidenced by the hard hat sitting on the back seat alongside a neatly folded wax jacket and a scatter of rolled-up plans. There was even a pair of mud-splattered wellies, she noted with satisfaction.
She appreciated the comfort of the plush leather seats and the smooth suspension on the long drive to Clare, especially once they hit the bumpy country roads, and she had to admit Al was an excellent road-trip companion. He had an impressive stash of chocolate bars in the glove box, and his playlist met with her approval, apart from a brief foray into the Bay City Rollers – ‘They were mum’s favourite,’ he claimed in his defence, so she made allowances as he yodelled along happily to ‘Summerlove Sensation’ and ‘Shang-A-Lang’, and she even did some harmonies on ‘Bye Bye Baby’ as a show of support.
It was just after five when they turned through an open metal gate onto a bumpy track overhung by tall trees, the branches of dense, unkempt fuchsia bushes scraping the sides of the car as they passed. They stopped in front of a large double-fronted house with stone steps leading up to a columned porch. It looked very stately, if somewhat run down, and Lesley imagined rooms draped with tapestries, a huge entrance hall with stuffed birds in a glass case, four-poster beds and toasted crumpets in front of a massive roaring fire. Maybe she’d have the country house experience after all, she thought, as she hopped out of the car.
Al got their bags from the boot, along with a large cool box. He dumped them on the gravel, then leaned into the back seat and took out several large brown grocery bags.
‘Can you take these?’ he asked, handing them to Lesley.
Th
en he led her around the steps to a door at the side of the house. He pushed it open and waved Lesley in ahead of him. She stepped into a big, old-fashioned country kitchen with a red-tiled floor. A wooden dresser painted a soft green and crammed with mismatched china stood against one wall, a dark green range beside it, covered in pots and pans. Under the grimy window there was a long table of unvarnished wood, piled high with newspapers, magazines and books. A rocking chair sat in one corner, stuffed with colourful squashy cushions. It had been a pleasantly mild day, but there was a chill in the air that had Lesley automatically rubbing her arms as she looked around. It seemed cooler in here than it had been outside – darker too, she thought. But maybe that was down to the film of dirt on the windows. Greasy plates and coffee-stained mugs littered every surface and the sink was piled high with dishes sitting in a basin of murky water.
‘It’s cold in here, isn’t it?’ Al said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together.
‘Bloody freezing!’
‘I wonder where Jane is.’
‘Do you think something’s happened to her?’
‘What do you mean?’ Al frowned.
‘Well, the state of the place …’
‘Oh, she’s working on a book,’ Al said, as if that explained everything. ‘Deadline looming, I believe.’
The noise of a door banging outside drew them both to the window.
‘Ah, there she is now,’ Al said as Lesley peered through the grime to see a figure emerge from a little shed at the bottom of the garden. She was clad all in black, the evening sun glinting off her tangled mess of wavy blonde hair. As they watched, she shielded her eyes and squinted back at them. Spotting Al, her face lit up with a smile and she gave them a little wave as she picked up her pace, striding purposefully towards the house.
The door opened.
‘Al,’ Jane beamed, rushing up to him. ‘It’s lovely to see you!’ She threw her arms around him and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
Now that she was closer, Lesley recognised the pixyish face, more fleshy and lined than the picture in her head, but still girlishly pretty, her amazing eyes intensely blue and luminous as moonstone.
‘This is Lesley,’ Al introduced her. ‘Lesley, my aunt Jane.’
‘Hello,’ Lesley held out her hand to shake, but Jane pulled her into a hug.
‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ She turned to Al. ‘If I’d known you were bringing someone ...’
‘You’d have baked a cake?’ Al said.
‘Well, no. But I might have tidied up a bit.’
‘Good job I didn’t tell you, then. I didn’t want you to go to any bother. I know you’re busy.’
‘Sorry the place is in such a mess,’ Jane said to Lesley, looking around vaguely.
‘It’s fine,’ Lesley said. ‘He should have told you.’ She gave Al a dig with her elbow. ‘It was very inconsiderate.’
‘Oh, it’s no problem. It’s lovely to see you.’
‘I know you’re on a deadline,’ Al said, ‘so I thought it would be a good idea to bring reinforcements.’
‘But I did want to talk to you about ... that family matter.’ Jane gave Al a meaningful look.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. Lesley knows the whole story.’ Al put an arm around Lesley’s shoulders.
‘She does?’
‘Yes, you can speak freely in front of her.’
‘Al tells me everything,’ Lesley said, briefly laying her head on Al’s shoulder.
‘Okay, good. Sorry, Lesley,’ Jane said, turning to her. ‘This isn’t much of a welcome for you. Sit down.’ She pulled out a chair at the table. ‘How about a drink? I was just about to have one. There’s some whiskey in the dresser, Al,’ she said, waving at it as she sat down beside Lesley.
Al rinsed a couple of teacups and a tumbler under the tap, then lined them up on the table and splashed generous measures of whiskey into them. ‘Bottoms up!’ He clinked his cup against Lesley’s, then knocked back the drink in one go and shuddered.
Lesley sipped hers gingerly, wincing slightly as it burned her throat.
‘There’s some shortbread I made yesterday,’ Jane said, grabbing a biscuit tin that was sitting on top of the pile of papers on the table and opening it. ‘Would you like some?’ she held it out to Lesley.
‘Thanks.’ Lesley took a piece. The sweetness was a nice antidote to the whiskey.
‘So, how’s the book going?’ Al asked his aunt as he sat beside her.
She made a face. ‘Not great. I’m almost finished, but I’m having trouble with the ending.’
‘It doesn’t help, not taking care of yourself, you know. You should take a break now and then – get out, see people, eat food. You need fresh air and vegetables.’
‘I don’t have time for fresh air and vegetables.’
‘Well, Lesley and I will take care of that while we’re here. Won’t we?’ he said to Lesley.
‘Er … yeah.’
Jane smiled fondly at Al. ‘Hold onto this one, Lesley,’ she said, dropping her head onto his shoulder affectionately. ‘He’s one in a million.’
‘I certainly think so,’ Lesley said, giving Al what she hoped was a suitably adoring look.
‘You two are probably hungry,’ Jane said. ‘We should have some supper.’
Lesley was ravenous, but said nothing, not wanting to seem too forward.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,’ Al said. ‘We don’t want to interrupt your writing.’
‘I was just knocking off for the evening anyway when I heard you drive up,’ Jane said.
‘We’ve brought loads of food.’ Al opened the cool box and started to unload it into the fridge. ‘It looks like we’ve come just in time,’ he said, as he filled the shelves. ‘What were you planning to eat tonight?’
‘I think there’s an egg around somewhere,’ Jane said. ‘I thought I might do something with that.’
‘What have you been living on?’ Al asked, shutting the door and turning to his aunt, his eyes sweeping around the kitchen.
‘My wits – what’s left of them.’
‘That’s what I was afraid of.’ He pursed his lips and began unpacking the grocery bags onto the table. There were jars of roasted peppers and plump chick peas, cartons of eggs, loaves of crusty sourdough and brown soda bread, slabs of cheese wrapped in waxy paper, punnets of berries, and bags of colourful vegetables, as well as several bottles of wine. ‘And yet you’ve been baking biscuits. I think that’s what’s known as fur coat and no knickers.’
‘I was starving and shortbread was the only thing I had the ingredients for.’
‘Well, you’re not eating like that on my watch.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘It’d take hours to get this place fit to even start cooking,’ he said, indicating the jumble of the kitchen. ‘Why don’t we go to the pub tonight? We can tackle this lot tomorrow.’
Who’s we, Paleface, Lesley thought.
‘Gosh, it would be good to get out,’ Jane said. ‘I’m starting to go stir crazy. But I’m not fit to be seen. The people around here think I’m enough of a daft old bat as it is.’
‘You’re a writer,’ Al said. ‘You’re allowed to be a bit eccentric. Anyway, I bet they love having a local celebrity. It’ll give them something to talk about.’
‘My goal in life,’ Jane said dryly. ‘Anyway, I’ve nothing to wear – I haven’t done any washing in weeks. And my hair’s a mess. I’m practically feral.’
‘Tosh! You just need a bit of a hosing down and you’ll be right as rain. Besides, Lesley likes her grub and she gets cranky if she’s not fed. You don’t want to be responsible for my girlfriend falling out with me.’
‘Well, I suppose when you put it like that,’ Jane said, pushing away from the table and standing up. ‘I’ll have a quick shower and see what I can find.’
‘Come on and I’ll show you our room,’ Al said to Lesley when she had gone. He picked up the bags and led the way up to the ground floor, through a spacious, dus
ty entrance hall and up a wide staircase to the first floor. He opened a door off the landing and Lesley stepped into a large draughty bedroom, the wooden floorboards mostly covered by a faded threadbare rug.
Al dumped their bags on the floor, and Lesley’s heart sank as her eyes drifted to the bed, feeling awkward suddenly about having to discuss the sleeping arrangements with Al. Damn, why hadn’t she brought it up sooner?
‘This was Scott’s room,’ Al told her, striding across to the bed. ‘And the beauty of it is …’ He hunkered down and slid out a mattress on wheels from underneath. ‘Scott used to like having his friends over for sleepovers.’ He looked up at Lesley. ‘Happy?’
Lesley grinned, relaxing. ‘Happy.’ She was also impressed that he’d realised she might be feeling uncomfortable. ‘But what about Jane? Won’t she think it’s odd?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, she won’t come in here.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll show you where the bathroom is, if you want to freshen up before the pub.’
13
It was a short walk to the pub along a narrow road that sloped downhill to the sea, flanked on either side by a patchwork of green fields bordered by low dry stone walls. There was no traffic, the sound of their footsteps reverberating in the surrounding hush as they walked three abreast in the centre of the road. The only other noise was the chirping of birds and the muffled bark of a dog in the distance. Lesley had to hide her surprise when Al took her hand as they strolled along. She had to keep reminding herself that she was supposed to be his girlfriend. She relaxed and smiled at him as his fingers curled around hers, trying to act as if it felt natural.
It was only six-thirty, but the pub was already busy, a wall of heat and noise greeting them as they stepped inside. Lesley wondered where all the people had come from – the area seemed deserted for miles around. Jane was the centre of attention as soon as they arrived, and Lesley felt everyone’s eyes following them as they made their way through the crowded bar, several people raising a glass in greeting or nodding hello as she passed. She had scrubbed up well, and was more recognisable now as the star Lesley remembered from her youth, wearing a simple black jersey dress, which she had tarted up with a chunky silver necklace and long silver earrings. She had aged well and was still a beautiful woman, but she had an indefinable something about her that was more than the sum of her pretty features and slim figure – a sort of magnetism that commanded attention as soon as she walked into a room. She drew many openly admiring glances as she led the way to a table in a quiet corner.
For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy Page 9