‘But why on earth do you even want to do extreme ironing?’ Lesley said. ‘Isn’t that a young man’s game?’
‘Your mother has her heart set on being a YouTuber,’ her father explained.
‘There must be easier ways of getting on YouTube,’ Lesley said as they all sat down.
‘There are,’ her mother said sourly, narrowing her eyes at Lesley. ‘Did Katrina tell you her news?’
Lesley looked to her sister.
‘I’m engaged!’ Katrina held her left hand up, displaying the small sapphire on her ring finger.
‘Oh wow! Congratulations!’ Lesley grabbed her hand and pulled it towards her for a closer look. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Just last week,’ Katrina said, smiling smugly. ‘I asked Tom!’
‘Good for you! And you got a ring and everything.’
‘Of course she got a ring,’ Miriam said crossly.
‘You don’t seem to be very happy about it,’ Lesley said to her mother.
‘I’m delighted. But I can’t say I’m thrilled about the way it happened. Call me old-fashioned, but I think it’s a sad day when a girl has to propose to herself.’ She pursed her lips and shook her head sadly.
‘She didn’t propose to herself. She proposed to Tom. I think it’s great!’
Miriam narrowed her eyes at Lesley again, but said nothing.
‘So, when’s the big day?’ Lesley asked.
‘We haven’t set a date yet, but probably early next year.’
‘Well, let me know if you want me to be bridesmaid, because I book up fast. I’ve already got one bridesmaid gig this year.’
‘What? Who?’ her mother asked.
‘Stella, Peter Bradshaw’s fiancée. She asked me while we were away.’
There was a low growling from the hall.
‘I guess Skipper’s ready for his walk,’ Katrina said, getting up. ‘I’ll see you later.’
As soon as she left the room, Miriam let loose. ‘Now see what you’ve done! Our big YouTube proposal is off. I hope you’re happy.’
‘I am, actually. But I don’t know what you think it has to do with me,’ Lesley said innocently. ‘It’s not my fault Katrina jumped the gun and proposed first.’
‘Hmm. Don’t try and tell me you didn’t have something to do with it. And now I have to resort to extreme ironing to get on YouTube. Well, on your head be it if I end up at the bottom of some ravine under a pile of your father’s freshly ironed shirts.’
‘Seriously, Mam. There are much easier ways to become a YouTube sensation. Besides, isn’t extreme ironing a bit passé? Does anyone even do it anymore?’
‘What would you suggest, love?’ her father asked, while her mother continued to fume at her silently.
‘Let’s see what’s trending right now,’ she said, picking up her phone. ‘I think soap cutting is pretty big.’
‘Soap cutting?’ her dad asked. ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘Um ... it’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s basically whittling, only with soap.’ She thumbed through her phone. ‘Here, I’ll show you.’
Her parents scooched together and looked over her shoulder as she opened a video.
‘Hm! Looks like a waste of perfectly good soap to me,’ her mother sniffed.
‘I don’t know,’ her father said. ‘There’s something kind of ... mesmerising about it.’
‘It’s supposed to be very soothing, even just watching it,’ Lesley said. ‘And it’s something you could do in the comfort of your own home.’
‘I might give it a go myself,’ her father said.
‘It’s not very environmentally friendly, is it?’ her mother said, still not taking her eyes off the video, Lesley noticed. There was something strangely compelling about watching it.
‘Since when have you worried about that?’ Lesley asked.
‘I’m every bit as environmentally aware as the next person,’ Miriam said huffily.
‘What if the next person is David Attenborough?’
‘You always have a smart answer for everything!’ her mother said, as if it was a bad thing.
The video came to an end. ‘Will we watch another one?’ her father asked.
‘Sure. There are loads.’ Lesley scrolled through the list of soap cutting videos to show them. ‘And look how many hits they get.’
‘They are very popular, aren’t they?’ Miriam said, and Lesley could tell she was weakening.
‘And much more on trend than extreme ironing,’ Lesley said.
‘I do have that set of soaps the cleaner gave me last Christmas,’ Miriam said thoughtfully. ‘Fig and custard or some such ghastly concoction. I’m never going to use them.’
Her mother made tea, and they were all still watching YouTube when Katrina returned from her walk.
‘What are you all looking at?’ she asked.
‘Soap cutting videos,’ Lesley said.
‘It’s the latest YouTube sensation,’ Miriam told her. ‘I think I’m going to give it a go. The extreme ironing is very hard on my back anyway.’
‘God, what’s this sudden obsession with YouTube, Mam? How do you even know about YouTube at your age?’
‘Oh, Liz from the bridge club showed me one of those proposal videos,’ Miriam said airily, casting a sly look at Lesley, ‘and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. Such a lovely idea.’ She sighed. ‘So romantic!’
‘Ugh! You think?’ Katrina screwed up her face. ‘If someone did that to me, I’d fucking castrate them on the spot and put that on YouTube.’
Miriam gasped, looking horrified. Lesley tried to catch her eye, but her mother was studiously avoiding eye contact with her. So she had to make do with smiling smugly to herself and trying to telepath ‘Told you so’ to her.
‘How was Nice?’ Romy asked later when Lesley called her.
‘Fantastic! I had sex with Al!’ Lesley squealed down the phone, glad to be talking to someone who realised this was big news.
Romy gasped. ‘Really?’
‘Still am, actually. Shagging him, that is. Well, not right this minute, but—’
‘I should hope not. It was good then? The sex?’
‘Yeah. It was ... kind of amazing, actually,’ Lesley said, grinning to herself at the thought of it.
‘So you fancy him now?’
‘Yeah, I think so. I mean yes, I do.’ She hadn’t been too sure at first if it was just general free-floating horniness, and Al just happened to be the one getting the benefit. But she had decided over the last couple of days that it was definitely Al-specific.
‘See, I told you it could happen if you gave it a chance.’
‘You were right. Who knew?’ Lesley said wonderingly. ‘My first grower!’
But there was still a lot to process about her and Al too. She didn’t really know what this thing between them was or where she stood. It had only started because she’d jumped him the night of the thunder storm. Were they just having sex? Was he attending to her needs as he’d offered to do, making it up to her because she couldn’t be with anyone else while they were pretending to be together? She’d always felt he liked her more than she liked him. But now that she did like him in that way, she was starting to wonder if she’d not only caught up, but overtaken him.
Damn! Why did their timing have to be so out of whack? It’d be so much easier if she’d fancied him straight away when they met at Dinner Dates, and accepted when he asked her out. They’d be dating in a nice normal way, and she’d know what it was.
Still, she wasn’t going to get all worked up and neurotic about it. She’d just enjoy it for what it was and see where it went.
37
Fresh from her early-morning run, Stella sat at the table in Peter’s kitchen drinking her breakfast smoothie as she went over her to-do lists for the day. In the week since they’d got home, she’d thrown herself into wedding preparations, and she was finding it surprisingly enjoyable. She liked the organisational aspect of it,
and it felt good to be busy. She was still determined to keep it all as low-key as possible, but there was still lots to do, and in fact it turned out that foregoing a designated venue actually meant a lot of extra research and planning. She lived by her lists.
She’d booked the registry office, and was researching caterers for a small reception at the house. Hopefully this weather would keep up, she thought, looking out the window at the sun sparkling across the bay. The past week had been uncharacteristically hot and sunny for Ireland, and the terraced garden would be perfect for a party. She imagined how magical it would look with fairy lights and coloured lanterns in the trees and shrubs, and all the flowers in bloom.
Focusing so much on the details of the wedding in the last few days, she had found herself almost forgetting the marriage at the heart of it. But every so often, it would hit her where all this was leading, and she felt rather dazed that it was really happening. It was such an ordinary thing, really, despite the spectacle and romance. But she had never expected to have an ordinary life. Rings and white dresses and promises of ever-after belonged to other girls – girls whose smooth, straight paths through their well-ordered lives seemed to lead inevitably to the altar – and there was a little part of her that feared she’d be found out and exposed as an imposter, trying to lay claim to a life that wasn’t rightfully hers.
‘You’re up early.’
She turned as Rafe came into the kitchen, dressed in a T-shirt and joggers.
‘Mmm, lots to do today,’ she said, indicating her lists.
‘Coffee?’ Rafe asked, as he switched on the machine.
‘No thanks.’
He yawned and stretched while he waited for the coffee. ‘Anything I can help you with?’ He nodded at her notebooks.
She shook her head. ‘It’s wedding planning stuff,’ she said, avoiding his gaze. Rafe had been friendly towards her since moving in with her and Peter after they’d returned to Dublin, but she still felt on shaky ground with him, and tried to avoid talking about the wedding when he was around. She didn’t want to push her luck.
‘Still going ahead with that, then?’ His tone was flippant and teasing, but there was an undercurrent of antagonism to it.
‘Yep.’
He poured a mug of coffee and sat across the table from her with it. ‘Well, you’ve been helping me with my house-hunting. The least I can do is return the favour.’
Stella had been delighted Rafe had accepted her offer to help with his property search. She was an avid watcher of all the TV property shows, and she loved looking around houses, so she enjoyed accompanying him on viewings. Plus she was good at it. She always knew the right questions to ask and had a good nose for when an estate agent was trying to hide something – unlike Rafe, who fell for the ‘lifestyle’ staging every time and never thought to look past it. But more than that, she was glad to have something they could do together to get on a more friendly footing with each other.
‘Thanks for the offer. But Lesley’s coming over later to help. Anyway, I don’t think your heart would be in it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, wouldn’t it be a bit like a bank manager helping a thief out with his plans for a heist? Since you think I’m intent on stealing the family jewels.’ She blushed, realising what she’d said. ‘Um ... so to speak.’ Damn it, why had she said that? She didn’t want a confrontation.
Rafe chuckled. ‘Hardly.’ He looked down at his coffee, then up at her, his expression serious. ‘Come on,’ he said softly, ‘you can’t blame me for being suspicious. I mean, much as we all love him, Dad’s no prize. You can do better.’
His gaze was intense, and Stella had to look away.
‘Your father is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ she said stiffly.
When she looked back at him, she was stunned by his expression. His eyes were narrowed as if trying to make her out, and he looked sad ... almost pitying.
‘You’re only twenty-six. Maybe the best is yet to come.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ she said softly. ‘Look, Rafe, I know you don’t like me, but—’
‘I think we both know that’s not true.’
She felt her face heat under the intensity of his gaze. ‘Well, you don’t approve of me, then,’ she said, refusing to let him unnerve her.
‘I don’t think you’re a bad person, Stella. But I do think you’re making a big mistake.’ He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘But I guess there’s not much I can do about it, is there?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Unless I can persuade you to ditch Dad and run away with me?’ he said jokingly. But again there was an undertone of something else, something that matched the intent in his eyes and caused her heart to flutter.
She forced a laugh. ‘No, thanks. But I hope we can be friends.’
‘I guess we can try.’ He took a gulp of coffee. ‘So, what’s on the agenda for today?’
‘Lesley and I are going to taste cakes this morning. I’ve found this company that do lovely bespoke ones with healthier ingredients.’
‘Well, enjoy!’
‘Thanks. Oh, by the way, I found you another couple of prospects,’ she said, picking up her tablet. ‘I thought we could make appointments to view them tomorrow. I’ll send you the links—’ She was interrupted by her phone buzzing, skimming across her notebook as it vibrated. She looked down at the display: Dan.
‘Aren’t you going to get that?’ Rafe asked her, frowning.
‘Um ... yeah.’ She picked it up as she stood. ‘Hi,’ she said as she darted from the room.
‘Hi.’ His tone was subdued, and Stella immediately felt something was wrong. ‘I ... shit, it’s hard to know how to tell you this. But anyway, I have ... bad news, I guess.’
Stella’s heart started to pound. Oh God, was the baby all right?
‘It’s Dad,’ Dan said. ‘He died.’
‘Oh.’ Stella felt winded, blindsided by a dizzying mixture of emotions – relief, sadness, guilt and a bewildering sense of loss. But the overriding emotion was confusion. What the fuck was she supposed to feel?
‘It was very sudden,’ Dan was saying. ‘He had a heart attack. Mam just found him dead in bed this morning.’
‘God. Sorry ... I mean ... God.’ It had been on the tip of her tongue to say ‘sorry for your loss’, to offer Dan her condolences in the traditional manner. But it was her loss too ... wasn’t it? Was it? ‘I think I need to sit down,’ she said with a shaky laugh, sinking onto the bottom step of the stairs. ‘How’s ... how’s Mam?’ she asked, keeping her voice hushed in case Rafe could hear.
‘She’s in pretty bad shape. It was so sudden. It was a real shock.’
‘And you? Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ He sniffed. ‘I’m fine. It’s ... weird, you know?’
‘Yeah. I know.’ God, she wanted so badly to be with him right now it ached. She wished they were in the same room and could put their arms around each other. They were the only ones who knew how this felt – how weird and wrong and bewildering.
‘Anyway,’ he said more briskly, ‘the funeral’s going to be on Wednesday, if you want to come.’
‘Oh! Do you think I should?’
‘No. I mean, that’s not what I’m saying. I just thought I should tell you in case you wanted to. I know you probably don’t, but ...’
‘Do you think I should?’ she asked again.
There was a brief silence. Then he said, ‘Probably not.’
‘Yeah, probably not a good idea. Has Mam ... has she mentioned me at all?’
‘No. She doesn’t even know we’re still in touch.’
‘Right.’ She nodded dazedly. ‘Best if I don’t go, then. She’s probably had enough shocks to deal with for now,’ she added bitterly.
‘Well, I’d better go – arrangements to make and so on. But I’ll talk to you again soon.’
‘Yeah. Bye. Take care.’
She hung up and sat for a moment, staring into
space. Then she got up and walked back into the kitchen in a daze.
‘Are you okay?’ Rafe asked, frowning.
‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, trying to shake herself out of her trance. She felt so hollow.
‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ His eyes were wide with concern.
‘Just some bad news,’ she said, putting her phone on the table as she sat opposite him.
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah, that was ... an old friend of mine. His father just died.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. You were fond of him?’
‘What?’
‘Your friend’s father?’
‘Oh.’ She smiled crookedly. ‘Not really. He wasn’t a very nice man.’
‘Oh.’ Rafe looked confused.
‘He really didn’t like me. Always had it in for me, in fact. But he was a big part of my childhood, I guess.’
‘Right.’ Rafe still looked baffled – understandably.
‘And he wasn’t always awful to me. I remember one day – I must have been about seven. It snowed, and he took me and my—my friend tobogganing. I fell on the ice and split my ear open, and he bought me a packet of Maltesers.’ Her eyes welled up at the memory, and she blinked away tears.
‘He bought you a packet of sweets? Big deal!’
She gave him a small smile. ‘My childhood wasn’t very happy,’ she said, shrugging. ‘I guess it makes the little things stand out.’ Besides that was a big deal for her father. She knew it was pathetic that she was still touched by such a small act of kindness, but she couldn’t help it.
That day was her best memory of her father. Dan’s too. They talked about it sometimes – the fun, playful side of him that they’d fleetingly glimpsed as they hurtled down the snowy hillside together, squealing with delight. He’d made them the sled that morning from an old crate, and he’d laughed with them as they tumbled in the snow, cheering when they made it to the bottom of the hill without falling off. They always wondered where that affectionate, indulgent man had been up to that point; where he’d disappeared to again afterwards.
‘So, are you going to the funeral?’ Rafe asked.
For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy Page 26