For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy

by Clodagh Murphy

  ‘It’s E.E. Cummings,’ Al told Lesley.

  ‘Well, at least he didn’t make it up himself. But I still think it’s very inappropriate in front of the children,’ Lesley sniffed.

  ‘What children?’

  ‘Scott and Rafe.’

  Al looked at her askance.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how old they are, they’re still Peter’s children, and no one wants to have their parent’s sex life rubbed in their face.’

  ‘It does sound very unhygienic,’ Al said.

  Jane leaned on the worktop and sighed. ‘It used to be all Yeats with him – all that yearning for Maud Gonne.’

  Al shot her a sympathetic look; clearly Jane used to be Peter’s muse for his after-dinner ramblings.

  ‘Ah well, those days are “Gonne”,’ Jane said, smiling at the pun.

  ‘But they’ll be back,’ Lesley said. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be treading on his dreams again in no time.’

  When Jane had gone back to the garden, Stella came in and sidled up to Lesley.

  ‘I thought maybe we could go shopping tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Unless you have other plans?’

  Lesley looked to Al, who shook his head.

  ‘No, tomorrow would be fine.’

  ‘Great!’

  Al removed himself, leaving Lesley alone with Stella.

  ‘I didn’t like to say it in front of Jane,’ Stella said in a low voice, ‘but Peter suggested I look for a wedding dress while I’m here. So I’d really be grateful for some help. I’m pretty clueless about wedding dresses.’

  ‘I can’t say I know much about them myself, but I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Thanks. It’d be great to have a second opinion. Or just some back-up for fighting off pushy sales assistants.’

  ‘Now that I’m good at.’

  ‘So we have a deadline now,’ Al said to Lesley later when they were alone in bed.

  ‘Yeah.’ She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, so she was facing him across the barrier of bolsters and cushions he’d constructed between them. ‘The end of September,’ she mused. ‘It doesn’t give us much time.’

  ‘But Stella seems very keen to be friends with you, so that’s in our favour.’

  ‘Yeah, that makes things a lot easier.’ Lesley was delighted that Stella was looking on her as an ally already. ‘And we’re going wedding dress shopping tomorrow. That’s the ultimate girly bonding experience.’ She wished she didn’t feel like such a fraud. But she mustn’t let herself fall for Stella’s charm. She was here to do a job, and she had to remain detached and professional.

  ‘Hopefully she’ll open up to you more when it’s just the two of you,’ Al said. ‘You should go for a boozy lunch. Get her to loosen up a bit.’

  ‘Good idea. If we got tipsy together, maybe I could even get her to be indiscreet. I could make a few drunken confessions of my own, to encourage her.’

  ‘But be subtle. You want her to feel she can confide in you, and you can keep a secret.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Lesley said, plumping up her pillows. ‘Subtle is my middle name.’

  Al turned away quickly and buried his face in his pillow, but Lesley still heard his muffled snigger. She resisted the urge to pick up one of the barrier cushions and whack him with it.

  24

  This is my kind of shopping, Lesley thought, as she sat sipping champagne on a chaise longue, while she waited for Stella to emerge from the dressing room of a fancy bridal boutique in the new town.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Lesley looked up as Stella pulled back the velvet curtains and stepped out. The sales assistant, a bird-like older woman with jet-black hair scraped back in a severe bun, rushed forward to fuss with the skirt of the dress as Stella stepped onto a raised platform in front of a huge mirror.

  ‘Ooh!’ Madame clapped her hands enthusiastically, then held them in prayer position at her mouth as she gazed delightedly at Stella’s reflection. ‘Très belle, non?’ She turned to Lesley for confirmation.

  Lesley had to admit, Madame had a point. She felt like bursting into applause herself. ‘You look amazing!’ she said, standing up as Stella twirled in front of the mirror.

  ‘It is lovely, isn’t it?’ Stella fingered the delicate lace at the neckline – hand-made by Parisian elves or some such, according to Madame; Lesley couldn’t remember the exact details.

  ‘I can’t believe that’s me,’ Stella said as she gazed at her reflection. ‘I look so …’

  ‘Beautiful,’ Lesley finished for her. There was no other word for it. ‘It’s gorgeous. That’s got to be the one, right?’

  Madame smiled at her almost tearfully, nodding her agreement.

  It was a long narrow column, with a keyhole cut-out in the back revealing a tantalising glimpse of skin. The simple elegance of the design was perfect, the clean lines showing off Stella’s modelesque figure. Anything fussier would have only detracted from the effect. In this dress, Stella was the main event, and she looked like a goddess.

  Madame beckoned Lesley to come and have a closer look, then bustled off to give them a moment alone with the dress. Lesley stepped onto the platform behind Stella as she turned this way and that.

  ‘I do love it,’ she said in a low voice to Lesley, ‘but it’s ridiculously expensive.’ She bit her lip. ‘The first one was lovely too.’

  This was the third dress Stella had tried on, and the most expensive. But it was also the clear winner, as far as Lesley was concerned. ‘The first one was nice, but this is perfect. It could have been made for you.’

  ‘Still, almost three thousand euro for a dress!’ Stella frowned. ‘How can I justify spending that kind of money on something I’m only going to wear once? It’s ridiculous!’

  That didn’t sound much like the thinking of a gold-digger. ‘But you don’t have to worry about money, do you?’ Lesley asked. ‘You’re going to be marrying Peter. He’s loaded.’

  ‘But I’m not, and I want to pay for this myself. Peter offered, of course, but I don’t intend to be some kind of sponging trophy wife. Whatever his family may think,’ she added under her breath. Then she laughed. ‘Listen to me – trophy wife! As if I’m some kind of prize.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I actually said that.’

  ‘But anyone would think you were a prize,’ Lesley said. ‘Look at you!’

  Stella smiled at herself in the mirror with real appreciation, as if she were seeing herself as Lesley saw her, and suddenly her eyes were welling with tears.

  It struck Lesley as odd for a woman as stunning as Stella to seem so insecure about her looks. It was as if she had to be reminded how beautiful she was.

  ‘You know, I wasn’t even going to go in for this whole big wedding extravaganza,’ Stella said. ‘If I had my way, I’d be getting married in Vegas, in a nice dress from a high street store.’

  ‘But now you’ve seen yourself in that,’ Lesley said, nodding at Stella’s reflection in the mirrors, ‘the genie is out of the bottle.’

  Stella smiled. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said, her eyes running over her reflection again. ‘I’m not going to be able to leave this behind, am I? I don’t even want to take it off now.’

  ‘Why don’t we go and have lunch, and you can think about it?’ Lesley suggested. She was hungry and the champagne was starting to go to her head.

  ‘Good idea,’ Stella nodded.

  Madame helped Stella out of the dress, and they left with promises to return later in the afternoon when she’d made up her mind. Lesley led the way through the winding cobbled streets of the old town to a restaurant that Al had recommended on a side street off Place Rossetti, away from the touristy bustle of the square. They sat in the shade of a large red umbrella, while waiters bustled between the tables covered with yellow tablecloths, and pedestrians streamed past on the other side of the narrow street.

  As so often happened to Lesley when faced with a menu, she wanted everything. The bowls of steaming pasta
being delivered to the next table looked mouth-watering, but she also wanted to try the pizza, which Al had told her was amazing.

  ‘What are you going to have?’ she asked Stella.

  ‘Salad niçoise and mineral water,’ Stella said decisively after barely glancing at the menu.

  Lesley’s heart sank. She’d been counting on them at least sharing a bowl of frites. She wished Al were here; she figured he’d be happy to split half the menu with her.

  ‘We’re shopping for your wedding dress,’ she said to Stella. ‘We should celebrate. Let’s get champagne. My treat.’

  ‘Oh. I have to admit, it hadn’t even occurred to me. But champagne would be lovely.’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘Shall we order?’ Stella asked. ‘Do you know what you’re having?’

  ‘I can’t decide. Al says the pizza here is the best in Nice. But they’re huge, and I really fancy some fries too.’

  ‘That does look really good,’ Stella said as a waiter passed, bearing two massive pizzas, the tantalising smell of herby tomato sauce and melting cheese drifting by in his wake. ‘God, I can’t remember when I last had pizza. Or fries,’ she said, side-eyeing the bowls of crispy frites being delivered to another table.

  ‘Fancy sharing? You’ve got a lot of mulling to do about that dress,’ Lesley said. ‘You need to keep your strength up. And we’ve got all afternoon.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Stella said, picking up the menu again. ‘Let’s share.’

  They ordered an aubergine pizza, a bowl of frites with aioli and a mixed salad as a nod to healthy eating, along with a bottle of house champagne.

  ‘Thanks so much for coming with me today,’ Stella said. ‘You made it fun. And thank you for this.’ She clinked her glass against Lesley’s.

  ‘It was fun,’ Lesley said, surprised that she genuinely had enjoyed it. She took a sip of champagne. ‘Now, what are you thinking about that dress?’

  Stella smiled. ‘Oh, I think we both know I’m going to go for it.’

  ‘Really? I mean, it was stunning, but you’d look amazing in any of them.’ It hadn’t occurred to Lesley that Stella would be buying the dress herself, and she felt bad at the thought of her blowing so much money on a wedding that might never happen.

  ‘No, hang the expense! You only get married once – at least I only intend to do it once.’

  They were interrupted by the food arriving.

  ‘Gosh, this all looks wonderful,’ Stella said as the waiter bustled away. ‘I’m so glad you suggested it. I’ve got so used to just zeroing in on what Peter can eat, I forget to consider what I want, even when he’s not around.’

  Lesley wondered was that really the reason. Stella seemed so into her looks. Maybe she was just worried about getting fat. ‘So, how are you finding the Bradshaws?’ she asked as she cut into the pizza, dividing it between their plates. The charred crust was just on the right side of burnt.

  Stella hesitated, and Lesley could almost see the shutters coming down.

  ‘It must be a bit daunting,’ she prompted, ‘being thrown into the middle of them all like this – especially having Jane here. I mean, that must be weird for you.’

  Stella took a bite of pizza and nodded, chewing thoughtfully. ‘It was at first. I have to admit I dreaded her coming,’ she said with a little laugh, ‘but it’s not as awkward as I was expecting, and she’s been very friendly to me. She’s nice, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah, I like her.’

  ‘It must be quite hard for her too,’ Stella mused, toying with her glass. ‘She and Peter are still so friendly. Maybe I should be worried.’ She darted an anxious look at Lesley.

  ‘But they couldn’t make a go of it,’ Lesley said, sensing that she was looking for reassurance. ‘It’s one thing getting on well with someone; it’s another being married to them. Jane couldn’t put up with—’ Lesley stopped herself.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Stella said, ‘I know it was Peter’s cheating that caused their marriage to break down. But he’s changed. I wouldn’t be marrying him if I thought he’d be unfaithful. Trust is very important to me.’

  ‘What about the rest of them? Scott seems to have taken a shine to you anyway.’

  ‘Scott’s sweet,’ she said, dipping a fry in aioli. ‘Joy and Michael are lovely, especially Joy. She’s been really kind. And Al, of course, is a sweetheart.’

  ‘Well, I certainly think so,’ Lesley said loyally.

  ‘I mean, I’m not naive. I know they’re probably not that happy about me. But they haven’t been hostile at all. Well, except Rafe.’ She took a slug of champagne. ‘He straight out accused me of being a gold-digger to my face.’

  ‘Pompous ass!’

  Stella shrugged. ‘It’s what they’re all thinking, I suppose. I can’t blame him really. He’s just looking out for his father.’

  ‘And his inheritance,’ Lesley pointed out.

  ‘Yes, that too. You won’t believe this, but he actually offered me money to call the whole thing off.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Lesley widened her eyes, acting surprised. ‘How much?’

  ‘I don’t know. I told him I wasn’t interested, so it didn’t get that far.’

  ‘Aren’t you curious, though? I wonder would they pay me to break up with Al,’ Lesley said dreamily.

  ‘But you wouldn’t consider it.’

  ‘No, of course not. But I’d love to know what they’d offer.’ She’d have to get Al to find out. ‘Doesn’t it worry you, though, that they think you might just be after Peter’s money?’

  ‘Not much I can do about it,’ Stella said. ‘I’ll just have to tough it out. Eventually they’ll see they were wrong.’

  ‘Maybe it’s not just about you, though. I mean, what if you and Peter were to have kids?’

  Stella shook her head. ‘We won’t.’

  ‘Really? You don’t want children?’

  ‘I ... can’t have them.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. But you could adopt. Or get a surrogate. There are lots of options nowadays, especially when you have money.’

  ‘Peter would be a very old father. I don’t think it would be fair to a child.’

  ‘And you’re okay with that?’

  ‘I’ve known from a very young age that I couldn’t have children. I’m used to the idea. So if that’s what they’re worried about, they can relax.’

  ‘Well, they must see how good you are for Peter. He’s a changed man, by all accounts.’

  ‘Hmm. But maybe they resent me for that too,’ Stella said thoughtfully. ‘The old Peter may have been a drunk and a philanderer, but they loved him as he was. And now I’ve come along and he’s turned into this abstemious health freak. It’s not entirely my doing, but no doubt the two things go together in their minds. I can tell they think I’m uptight and controlling.’

  ‘Well, look how Peter ended up left to his own devices. He needs a firm hand. They’re just glad to still have him around, and I’m sure they’re grateful to you.’

  ‘I guess. Anyway, I’m very glad you’re here, Lesley.’

  ‘Me too. This place is lovely, isn’t it?’ she said, looking around. She fished in her bag for her phone. ‘I’d better get on Instagram and get busy making everyone jealous.’ She took a photo of the restaurant and posted it. ‘You’re not on Instagram?’ She thought it was worth asking, on the off-chance that Stella just kept her social media accounts private because she didn’t want Peter’s family to connect with her.

  Stella shook her head. ‘I’m not on any social media.’

  ‘I’m kind of jealous. I’m a total addict.’

  ‘I had a … bad experience a while back.’

  ‘Bullying?’ That was common enough on social media.

  ‘Sort of.’ She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the stem of her glass. ‘An ex was ... stalking me, I suppose.’ She lifted her head. ‘It’s a long time ago now. I deleted all my accounts.’

  ‘And you’ve never been tempted to go back? Even to do a bit
of covert cyber-stalking?’

  ‘No.’ Stella smiled sardonically. ‘I’m afraid of what I might find. Anyway, I don’t miss it. It’s very freeing, actually, not being tethered to all that.’ She nodded at Lesley’s phone. ‘The constant clamour for attention and applause, the comparisonitis.’

  ‘The endless selfies,’ Lesley chipped in.

  ‘Oh God, the selfies!’ Stella struck a pose, hand on hip, chest thrust out, pouting at herself in an imaginary mirror while she held a phone out at arm’s length.

  Lesley laughed.

  ‘I may be vain,’ Stella continued, ‘but at least I don’t spend all my time broadcasting pictures of myself admiring my reflection.’

  ‘You’d be perfectly justified if you did. I mean, there’s no point in pretending you don’t know how great you look.’

  ‘Well, it’s not as if I didn’t earn it – literally,’ Stella said, leaning forward confidentially. ‘Bought and paid for it with my own money.’

  ‘You mean ... plastic surgery? I must admit, I did wonder if you’d had a boob job.’

  Stella nodded. ‘And the rest.’ She drew a finger over her face, along her jaw and chin. ‘I’ve had a lot of work done.’

  ‘Wow!’ Maybe it was the effect of working in Hollywood, Lesley thought. But even there, she suspected it would be unusual for someone Stella’s age to have had that much cosmetic surgery. ‘That must have cost a packet.’

  Stella nodded. ‘It did. I spent pretty much all my money on it for years. But it was worth it.’

  ‘Well, good for you!’ Lesley raised her glass in salute. She was glad Stella was letting her hair down a bit with her. By the time they had drained the bottle of champagne and ordered another, she was really starting to loosen up.

  ‘Lesley, can I ask you something?’ She topped up their glasses. ‘A favour?’

  ‘Sure,’ Lesley said readily, glad she was gaining Stella’s confidence.

  ‘Would you be my bridesmaid?’

  ‘Me?’ she squeaked, taken aback.

  ‘You don’t have to, of course,’ Stella said quickly. ‘Feel free to say no if you’d rather not.’