A Time for Friends (9 page)

‘He’s in Moscow.’

‘Why didn’t you go?’ Colette looked at her, astonished.

‘Because I’ve two children in school and a business to run,’ Hilary said drily.

‘What a pain having to stay behind. I love going abroad with Des. He gets to do all the hard work and I get to swan around shopping and enjoying myself!’ Colette said smugly.

‘You have a housekeeper and a nanny and you don’t work full days outside the home,’ Hilary pointed out.
You don’t work in the home either
, she thought nastily
and then felt like a heel. She was being mean to her friend for no reason at all.

‘True! My part time consultancy hours mean I can suit myself. Can’t you get someone else to run your dad’s shop?’ Colette always called it the shop, never the showrooms
or the business.

‘Aah, I wouldn’t do that to him and besides we’re very, very busy – business is starting to boom with all this Celtic Tiger stuff. We’re supplying a lot of hotels
now. There are so many opening, I don’t know where they’re going to get the people to stay in them.’

‘I know! London’s buzzing! Des is making a mint in bonuses even if he is working practically 24/7. When you think of that terrible recession we grew up in in the eighties it’s
hard to believe. Dickon and Austen’s have had to take on four new staff to cope with the demand for fine art.’

Hilary raised her glass. ‘Here’s to progress and good times!’ she toasted, just as Jonathan emerged onto the patio with Colette’s meal.

‘I’ll drink to that,’ he declared, placing the steak in front of her. ‘Here’s a herb butter sauce as an accompaniment. I raided your herb garden, Hilary,’ he
said, pointing to the large fragrant herb-filled planter on the patio. ‘I’ll be back in a sec with the salad and more champers.’

‘It smells divine.’ Hilary inhaled the aromas wafting across the table.

‘It tastes delicious,’ Colette admitted grudgingly, chewing on a piece of the succulent tender steak, which was cooked just the way she liked it.

‘I’ll just raise my glass to good times and then I’ll leave you in peace. I’m sure you have lots to catch up on,’ Jonathan said diplomatically, placing
Colette’s artistically arranged side salad beside her plate and refilling their glasses.

‘Aw, just sit down for another little while. Colette’s interest is in fine arts. She’s a consultant in a prestigious gallery in London, and she’s always seeing famous
people,’ Hilary said, knowing that her friend loved name-dropping all the famous people who had been clients or who she’d met at viewings and launches.

Colette rose to the bait, as Hilary knew she would. ‘Oh well last week, would you believe, I saw Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter having dinner in San Lorenzo. I was dining with a
client. Des and I eat there regularly—’

‘Do you ever see Princess Di there?’ Jonathan asked eagerly. He loved Princess Diana and followed her progress in
Hello!
which he always bought when she was on the
cover.

‘Often,’ Colette shrugged. ‘And I’ve seen her shopping on the High Street. Always immaculate and so stylish, even in her casual clothes.’

‘Wow!’ Jonathan sat down and sipped his champagne.

‘And I was at a gallery exhibition recently and Helen Mirren was there. And I’ve seen Elton John too.’ Colette speared a piece of cucumber and lettuce. Whatever Jonathan had
drizzled over it, it was a crisp and very tasty salad.

‘Helen Mirren, she is DIVINE!’ Jonathan enthused and Hilary smiled to herself as Colette relaxed and continued to regale Jonathan with anecdotes about her well-to-do life in
London.

Just as well Niall isn’t here
.
He would have been bored out of his tree
, she thought, having watched her husband’s eyes glaze over often enough when Colette and Des
set out to impress.

‘I really must go,’ Jonathan said a couple of hours later. Dusk had changed to darkness and the candles and lanterns that Hilary had lit illuminated the patio and garden in a
flickering wave of light casting dancing shadows around them. Down at the end of the garden, Hilary’s Buddha sat in Zen-like serenity under the benign gaze of a full moon. It was hard to
believe they were in a city, it was so peaceful and private.

‘Don’t forget you have to bring your friend a burger,’ Hilary reminded him, standing up to see him out. ‘Will I call a cab for you?’

‘Not at all, I’ll get one over on the Howth Road, no problem at this hour of the night,’ he assured her. ‘Now where did I drop my bag?’

‘By the kitchen counter, I think.’ Hilary had a vague memory of him sitting on one of the stools with his bag at his feet.

‘Very nice to meet you,’ Jonathan said politely to Colette.

‘Likewise,’ she returned, equally polite.

Hilary linked his arm as they walked through the house. ‘I’m going to have the mother and father of a hangover tomorrow and it will be all your fault, but I had a lovely day and
thanks for staying, even though it turned into a bit of a monologue with herself,’ she grinned.

‘Umm, she’s an interesting lady,’ Jonathan said diplomatically, retrieving his bag, and Hilary laughed.

‘Ring me tomorrow for a chat whenever it suits you. I’ll be going to collect the girls around lunchtime. But not too early,’ she warned. ‘I intend to sleep my brains
out.’

‘Me too. I’m delighted to have met you,’ he said, hugging her.

‘Same here,’ Hilary smiled, and his hug was warmly reciprocated.

‘Now we can have a real heart to heart,’ Colette exclaimed, delighted to see the back of the interloper. She had enjoyed impressing him with her tales of London life, but she was
finally glad to have Hilary’s undivided attention.

Oh no
! thought Hilary. She was tipsy and tired, ready for bed. But Colette was re-energized and went into the house to locate another bottle of wine. ‘Only a small glass for
me,’ Hilary protested weakly.

Ignoring her, Colette filled both glasses to the brim and sat down and said, ‘Now what do you think? Should I have a facelift in London or New York? It would probably be better to have it
in London so I’m fresh when we move Stateside? And do you think I should get a boob job done? Pinky and perky are beginning to droop a little,’ she moaned, thrusting her pert bosom
upwards.

‘They look fine to me,’ Hilary slurred. She wanted to put her head on her arms and lie down on the table and fall asleep.

‘No they are not,’ Colette assured her. ‘When I’m wearing a strapless dress I can feel the tug of gravity.’ But her words wafted off on the balmy breeze as
Hilary’s head sank to her chest and she gave a tiny snore.

Jonathan leaned back against the leather upholstery and let the sounds of Dean Martin singing ‘Amore’ wash over him. The taxi driver was listening to a late-night
programme on the radio and was not inclined to talk, for which Jonathan was utterly relieved. He hated chatty taxi drivers.

Today had been a cracker of a day. A real surprise. The course had been interesting and informative but meeting Hilary had been the icing on the cake. She was the biz. He smiled to himself as
the taxi whizzed through Fairview, the park dark and uninviting on his left a contrast to the bright lights of the thronged pubs and restaurants on his right.

It was a shame that friend of hers had called. What a diva! She had spent two hours monopolizing the conversation and he could see that Hilary was a tad cheesed off with her. And what a
name-dropper! He had pretended interest out of politeness, and there were times when Colette
had
been interesting but she hadn’t allowed anyone else to get a word in edgeways. It
seemed she might be moving to the States, so perhaps he would never have to see her again. A relief, he thought. Especially as he just knew he and Hilary were going to be great pals. And he was
definitely going to up his game in his lighting design on his latest commission. Actually he couldn’t wait, Jonathan thought happily. He had some terrific ideas about how to progress his new
project and his future career and Hilary was definitely going to be a part of it.

It certainly wasn’t the evening she’d anticipated, Colette thought grumpily, waiting for the taxi she had called to arrive. Hilary was up in bed snoring, and she
had been left to blow out the candles and bring the dishes and glasses into the kitchen and lock up. She was damned if she was cleaning up, although she did note that Jonathan had cleared up after
cooking her meal, and he must have filled the dishwasher because there were no other dishes on the counter. He was a poncy little upstart who didn’t know his place, no matter what Hilary
said. He’d made himself at home and was far too familiar for someone Hilary hardly knew, in Colette’s opinion.

The taxi driver flashed the lights when he arrived, seeing her looking out the window, so she gave a wave and switched off the sitting-room lamps and walked into the hall. She thought she should
leave the light on in case Hilary came downstairs later. Her friend was well jarred and she could easily fall down the stairs in the dark. Colette pressed the keypad to set the alarm and closed the
front door behind her.

‘The Shelbourne,’ she said crisply, settling herself into the back of the taxi.

‘Off to a party, luv? Nice night for it,’ the driver said chattily.

‘No,’ she said curtly, hoping he would take the hint and shut up.

‘Nice houses around here,’ he remarked, undaunted, driving along The Middle Third.

Colette ignored him and sat staring out of the window. She was fed up. She’d wanted to talk things over with Hilary. She’d wanted her best friend to be impressed with the great new
opportunity that was opening up for her and Des. She’d wanted Hilary to offer advice and assure her that everything would work out well for them. Instead she’d had to entertain a
stranger that she didn’t particularly take to and make small talk for the entire evening.

Jealousy had raised its familiar head too, Colette admitted ruefully. When she’d seen how comfortable Hilary was with Jonathan, who had been lounging in the chair out on the patio when she
arrived, she
had
been miffed to discover they’d only just met. And spouting all that guff about setting up in business together. That was drink talking for sure, she thought
derisively. Hilary had enough on her hands with her father’s shop. There was nothing of the go-ahead career woman about her. She was far too laid-back.

Jonathan should have left, no matter what Hilary said. He should have known that she was only being polite when she’d pressed him to stay. And Hilary should have
wanted
to be on
her own with Colette. It was
ages
since they’d seen each other! It was just like when they were young. She’d had to stake her claim on Hilary sometimes because Hilary’s
other friends would squeeze her out. A hateful memory surfaced from deep in the recesses of her mind.

‘Do I
have
to ask her to my party?’

Now why had
that
come back to haunt her? Colette thought crossly.

She gazed out of the window at the capital. Dublin had undergone such a transformation in the last few years. Even though it was well after midnight the city was teeming, vibrant with Friday
night revellers spilling out of pubs and restaurants and heading for clubs and discos. The quays had changed totally from the way she’d remembered them, shabby, dilapidated and neglected. Now
they were developed and revamped; modern office buildings and refurbished period houses gave an elegant, polished air that the capital had lacked for a long time.

Progress had certainly been good for her home town, she thought wearily, stifling a yawn. It had been a long week and she felt exhausted. And tomorrow she had to face her parents and make
excuses for not telling them that she was coming to Dublin. She was glad she was staying in a hotel tonight and not having to make an effort to do any more talking. Des wouldn’t be finished
socializing until the early hours. He’d end up with his cohorts in the Horseshoe Bar in the Shelbourne, where the in-crowd gathered on a Friday night. If she was at home with her parents
she’d have to sit up and talk and she wasn’t in the humour. How strange life was, Colette mused. When she was young she would have given anything for her parents to have had the time
and inclination to sit and talk to her, and now when they wanted to spend time with her she didn’t care to spend time with them. Too late to turn back the clock now, Colette thought
resentfully. Far, far too late.

‘What do you mean you stayed in the Shelbourne? Why didn’t you stay with us?’ Jacqueline O’Mahony asked huffily when Colette phoned her the following
morning.

‘It was easier to be in town. Des is here for work, there was a meal in Guilbaud’s for his Irish counterpart’s retirement do and now he’s gone to play a round of golf
with some of the senior execs. I can meet you here in the Shelbourne or come over to Sutton.’ Colette tried to hide her irritation with her mother. Surely
she
who was always so busy
working, socializing and entertaining her own colleagues could understand what a business trip was like.

‘Is Jasmine with you?’

‘No, it’s such a short
working
trip I didn’t think it was fair to bring her.’

‘That’s a shame, Colette. Your father and I would love to see her, we get so little chance as it is, and after all she
is
our only grandchild,’ Jacqueline said
snippily.

‘Well you’re always welcome to come over to London whenever you want,’ Colette said, resting against the big plump pillows of the queen-sized hotel bed, nibbling on a luscious
strawberry from the fruit cup she had ordered for breakfast.

‘You know how busy we are, professionally and socially,’ Jacqueline retorted.

‘Right back at you, Mum,’ Colette riposted coolly. She heard her mother’s sharply inhaled breath of exasperation.

‘Well, let me see then – we’re going to lunch in the golf club with the McAdams and dinner with the Reilly-Carrolls in town tonight. You could join us for either,’
Jacqueline suggested, brightening up. How wonderful to be able to show off Colette. She was so knowledgeable about art and antiques and was always so elegantly turned out. And Des, although she
found him rather brash and opinionated, was undeniably successful.