Behind Every Cloud (20 page)

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Authors: Pauline Lawless

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Rachel

s something else, isn

t she?

Sam remarked to Ronan as they parted.


She sure is,

Ronan grinned,

and she has a good heart.


It

s so great to have made such nice new friends
,”
Rachel confided to Ellie as they entered the taxi.


You must have lots of friends,

Ellie remarked
.


Not at all,

Rachel
replied sadly
. “
I have two very good friends, Naomi and Charlotte. We go way back to our junior schooldays, but unfortunately Naomi is married in New York and Charlotte moved to Italy. I really miss them a lot
.”


What about all the people you meet through Carl?


You can

t find true friends in that circle. You never know who you can trust. You think they like you for yourself and then you find out that they want something from you or that they

re talking to the media.

Rachel

s voice sounded sad and Ellie felt really sorry for her. Her life was obviously not as perfect as it looked from the outside.

They had arrived at Ellie

s home and as the taxi came to a standstill Ellie turned to Rachel
. “
Well, you can trust me, Rachel, and I

m honoured to be your friend.


Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate that.

They hugged goodnight.

See you next Saturday.


I

m looking forward to it.

On the drive to Howth Rachel thought of the way she

d been betrayed by some friends in the past. It hadn

t t
aken her long to realise that some women befriended
her only so that they could get close to Carl
.
His affair with her best friend had shattered her trust in women and had made her wary ever since. For the hundredth time she wished that Naomi and Charlotte hadn

t moved away. She missed them so much.

Ellie had mentioned earlier that she had a sister although it appeared they didn

t get along all that well. Rachel had always envied the girls at school who

d had sisters
.
How wonderful to have someone with whom you could share everything! Someone you could trust. Lost in thought, she realised with a start that she was home. Paying the taxi driver, she went inside
,
putting these thoughts out of her head.

Zita took the DART into Pearse Station and walked the rest of the way home.

Marcus was waiting for her.

Well?

he enquired.


Yeeesssss
!”
Zita laughed, pumping the air with her fist.

Mission accomplished!


Tell me, tell me!

he shrieked, following her into her apartment.

She opened a bottle of wine and
,
pouring two glasses, handed him one and sat down on the armchair, her legs dangling over the arm.


We, my darling, have been invited to a
party chez Dunne, next Saturday night.


You

re kidding me!

he cried.

I

m invited too?


Well, I can bring a partner and as you

re my partner in crime . . .

She rolled the words on her tongue, her catlike eyes glistening.


Oh my God
!”
he bellowed, unable to believe his ears.

The gorgeous Carl Dunne – up close and personal – I don

t believe it!

He jumped up and did a little dance around the room.

You are something else, Ms Williams. How did you manage that?


I hav vays and means,

she replied, acting mysterious.


Oh, my God, what will I wear?

he cried.

Do you think my purple velvet suit would be okay? It

s not too over the top
,
is it?


You? Over the top? Spare me! You

re never anything else,

she laughed.


Now, seriously. Tell me all!

he demanded.

How did you get us invited to
chez Dunne?

Rolling a joint expertly, she inhaled deeply and then handed it to him. She told him all that had happened that evening, Marcus interrupting her every thirty seconds for more details
.
He could hardly believe it! They both got high and drunk as skunks as they fantasised about the following Saturday. It was going to be brill!

To Ronan

s relief, Louise

s good humour lasted throughout
t
he week. She was even excited about going to the Dunnes

party on Saturday. They rarely went anywhere toge
ther these days. Eating out in Dublin was so damned expensive and as for concerts and shows – the prices for them were ridiculously exorbitant. Even a trip to the cinema could cost upwards of €40. Throw in a few drinks before or after and you were talking of €80 – even €100 if you needed to take a taxi. Crazy times, Ronan sighed.

He hoped Louise would not be looking for a new rig
-
out for the party as their finances would just not stretch to that. So far she hadn

t mentioned anything and anyway she had three wardrobes full of clothes to choose from. It was not as if any of the people there would have seen them before.

He was really enjoying the work in Sam

s wine shop and was already settled in there and had got to know the ropes. The extra money he was earning was a godsend and meant he could pay a little more off their credit
-
card bill. There was light at the end of the tunnel.
Fiona came down to the shop every time he was on duty
.
He had offered to go up to her at his break to save her climbing the stairs but she insisted on coming down
,
saying that she liked the opportunity to escape the confines of her apartment.


It gets pretty boring looking at the four walls all day,

she confided to him. He didn

t doubt it so
he
asked her to come at his break-time so that they could chat without interruption and share tea and biscuits together in the small staff kitchen behind the shop
.

He was amazed when she told him that she was actually twenty-seven
years
old. She looked much younger. He was growing quite fond of her and wondered how she had found herself in this predicament. He didn

t know her well enough yet to ask her and she didn

t venture any information. Still, she was always good-humoured and laughing and he enjoyed their little chats.

19

Rachel was in a tizzy. Carl had disappeared to meet some of his cronies when there was so much yet to be done. He really was most inconsiderate. The house was a scene of chaos. The caterers were flying all over the place
,
pushing past her with trays of food. She dared not go in the kitchen as she would only be in their way.
They had set the
roasting pig
up earlier and it had been
rotating on its spit in the garden for hours. The aroma coming from it was delicious.
The string quartet that would play for the first part of the evening had just arrived and were setting up beside the fountain and the band who would play later were busy trying to get the amplification right. She counted at least five guys, besides the musicians, who were helping with this. It felt like an invasion had taken place. She just wished it was all done and then she could relax.

Carl

s friend, who had a drinks company, was delivering the bottles of spirits but had rung to say he was running a little late. She hoped he would be here before her guests arrived. Trust him – always the last minute!
Luckily she had insisted to Carl that she order the champagn
e and wine from Sam
,
who had delivered it all the previous day unlike Carl

s merchant, so at least they had plenty of that. The champagne was chilling
,
ready to be served to their guests as they arrived. Sam had given her a generous discount
,
unlike that other creep who she suspected charged them more because of who they were.

This reminded Rachel that what she badly needed was a drink, and she went to get one.

Sipping a large gin and tonic, she surveyed the scene.
Because the weather had turned out to be glorious and the forecast was that it would stay that way, they had
considered dispensing with the large marquee altogether
.
However, knowing how often the forecasters got it wrong, they had decided to erect it, just in case. They would
,
however
,
leave the sides open and the canvas drawn back as drapes. There were heaters set amongst the tables for later in the night when it could get chilly and they could always close the sides if the unthinkable happened and it rained.

The caterers were decorating the tables and chairs which were now arranged in the open marquee
and Rachel had to admit it looked great. She had gone for an Arabian Nights theme and it did look very exotic with deep orange
-
and
-
red chiffon draping on the ceiling
,
making it look like a Bedouin tent. There were candles in lanterns on the tables and hanging from the ceiling and Rachel was delighted that the caterers had done such a wonderful job. She had also secured the services of a fo
rtune
-
teller,
Madame Farah
,
to add to the fun. She would be located in
a tent at the bottom of the garden. Yes, even though it was still pretty chaotic it was beginning
to come together very nicely, no thanks to Carl. Where the hell was he, she wondered as she angrily texted him.

They

d had quite a row on Monday night when she

d told him she

d invited some of the people from her wine course to the party.


They

ll have nothing in common with my friends,

he

d whinged.


How do you know?

she

d demanded angrily.

They

r
e nice
,
genuine people which is more than can be said for some of the hangers-on you

ve invited.

Carl didn

t reply knowing that it was useless to argue with her when she was drunk, which she clearly was. They

d been cool with each other ever since.

Finally, everything was ready. Carl was home – he

d even brought her a big bouquet of flowers which had pleased her. She knew it was meant as an apology. The spirits had
been delivered – albeit only thirty minutes before the guest
s were due – and the scene was set. For once the weather forecasters had got it right and it was a truly beautiful Midsummer

s Eve night
.

Rachel and Carl had showered and changed and were both looking resplendent. She was wearing a striking two-piece in a burnt orange which accentuated her colouring. She

d had it made especially for the occasion and it was a modest version of a harem dancer

s costume, with silk and chiffon harem trousers, a beaded, chiffon-sleeved top and gold jewelled sandals. She looked exotic and eastern and her bare midriff was tanned and toned. Carl was wearing
a genuine Moroccan rigout which he

d bought in a
Moroccan souk the previous year
.
It was a white linen tunic
top with gold embroidery, loose white trousers and a sleeveless floor-length gold silk coat. They made a stunnin
g glamorous couple
.
Carl poured them both a drink and they went out to the garden for a last
-
minute check.

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