Changing Places (25 page)

For the first time in years, her confidence in her own ability was faltering. Was she a wimp who just couldn’t handle the competition? Was she past it? Had she had her day and now it was
Vinny Gray’s turn? It was depressing to think that she might have reached her peak and already be on the way down before she’d even hit thirty. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
Stay in ADLI and watch younger, smarter people overtake her? Go to another company and start the whole dog-eat-dog process again? Or drop out and do something completely different? At the moment
working at a checkout in Tesco’s seemed very attractive, and certainly preferable to returning to ADLI.

‘Jill, Rache? Are you ready? Mam’s waiting downstairs.’

Jill stood up at the sound of Anna’s voice. ‘Coming.’

Liam poured cornflakes into a bowl, slopped milk in on top of them and carried his breakfast into the sitting room. Switching on the TV he tuned into the Discovery Channel and
found himself watching a documentary about battles through the ages. Finishing the cereal, he moved some plates on the coffee-table to make room for his bowl and flopped back in the chair, flicking
impatiently through the channels. When the doorbell went he ignored it. He was used by now to the interruptions that peppered the day. The collectors for charity, schoolkids selling lines and
salesmen selling crap that even they didn’t want. He’d answered the door the first week and been polite to them all but now he’d learned that it was easier not to answer the door
at all. When the bell went for the third time, he stood up and stormed out, ready to snap the head off whoever had disturbed him.

‘Well, about time. I hope you weren’t still in bed at this hour.’

‘Mum!’

Josie pushed past him and made her way into the kitchen. ‘Dear God, would you look at the state of this place! Really, Liam, I thought I’d brought you up better than that.’

‘Leave it, Mum,’ Liam snapped as she took off her coat, rolled up her sleeves and started to clear the piles of crockery strewn across every surface.

‘I certainly will not! I’m not having Anna coming home to this mess. What would she think?’

‘What the hell has it got to do with you?’

‘Don’t take that tone with me.’ Josie paused in her work to wag a finger at him. ‘I don’t know what your father would say, God rest him.’

‘Sorry,’ Liam muttered.

‘That’s okay, son. I know it’s not easy for you at the moment. Why don’t you go up and have a shower, and when you come down we’ll have a nice cup of tea and a
chat.’

The last thing Liam wanted was a ‘chat’ but it was easier to go along with her. ‘Right so.’

‘Good boy.’ Josie turned back to her work.

Liam listened to her humming happily as he went upstairs. She was always happiest when she was doing something for him, he realized. She had called him every day since he’d lost his job
and frequently she announced that she’d made him lunch and it would only go to waste if he didn’t come straight over. As he had little else to do, Liam usually went. He told himself it
had nothing to do with the fact that his mother lived next door to Tara Brady although he had to admit to a certain buzz when his ex appeared at the window or in the doorway.

But he’d been really pissed off at her turning up here unannounced like that, although how was she to know that Anna would come home for lunch? Still, she’d seemed to enjoy the whole
sorry episode and that irritated him. Flirting was one thing but trying to screw up his marriage was another matter entirely. Not that he and Anna needed any help at screwing things up at the
moment, he thought as he stepped from the shower. No matter how hard they tried, they seemed to be constantly treading on each other’s toes. Anna always wanted to talk his problems through
when all he wanted to do was forget about them. The last thing he needed was reminding of his abject failure as soon as she walked through the door every night. She had solved the problem by coming
home later and later, and he couldn’t really blame her. Liam put on a clean shirt and jeans, combed his hair and went downstairs.

‘You could have shaved,’ his mother said, eyeing his rough stubble disapprovingly as she set the teapot on the table. Still, he was a good-looking man and the green shirt emphasized
his tanned skin and the wonderful eyes he’d inherited from his father. But he was getting thin, despite her efforts to feed him at every opportunity, and the light had gone out of his eyes.
‘There’s nothing but rubbish in your cupboards,’ she complained. ‘Not even bread to make a piece of toast.’

‘There’s Mars bars,’ Liam told her, taking the pack out of the cupboard.

‘You can’t live on that stuff!’

He grinned. ‘I don’t. I go round to my dear mother and she makes me wonderful dinners.’

Josie smiled reluctantly. ‘Well, someone has to look after you.’

‘So, any news?’ he asked.

‘Tara was asking after you.’

‘Oh yes?’ He kept his voice casual, aware of the curious glint in her eye. ‘How’s she doing?’

‘Well, you should know. She was saying she dropped in to see you last week.’

Liam’s tea went down the wrong way and he coughed and spluttered.

‘Are you okay, love?’

‘Yeah, fine.’

‘So, what did she want?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Tara?’ Josie said impatiently.

‘Oh, she was just dropping off some cream for Anna.’

Josie’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Anna’s buying Tara’s products?’

‘Well, no – I am. It’s a surprise for her birthday.’

Josie seemed to accept this. ‘I see. So tell me, are you all set for this interview?’

He shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

She tut-tutted. ‘You suppose? What suit are you wearing? Does it need dry-cleaning? And what about a shirt? Have you got a clean one? Do you want me to iron one?’

Liam shook his head. ‘All under control,’ he lied.

Josie shot him a look. ‘I’ll be the judge of that. You need a nice white shirt, not one of your weird ones.’ Liam often wore dark-coloured shirts that she didn’t approve
of at all. Anna’s taste, obviously. ‘And a nice tie. When we’ve finished our tea you can show me what you’ve got.’

Liam sat eating his Mars bar and felt like a schoolboy again. ‘Actually I’ve got to go out in a minute.’

Josie raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? Where?’

‘I need to get some references photocopied for the interview,’ Liam said, impressed with himself for thinking on his feet.

‘Oh, I see. Where do you get that done – in the village? I’ll drop you.’

‘No, that’s okay, Mum, I’ll go on the bike. I need the exercise.’

‘Rubbish.’

‘Still, the cycling helps me think. I can go over my interview technique in my head.’

‘Well, be careful,’ Josie told him as she stood up to go. ‘And if you decide you want anything washed or ironed, drop it over later. In fact,’ she brightened, ‘why
don’t you come over for tea?’

‘I can’t today, Mum.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t. Will you stop with the inquisition?’ he snapped.

‘Well, I’m sorry I spoke.’ Josie picked up her handbag and with a sniff, stalked into the hall.

‘Sorry, Mum,’ he said, following her. ‘I’m just a bit nervous about tomorrow.’

‘That’s okay, dear, I understand completely.’ She held up her cheek for his kiss. ‘Now call me as soon as you get back tomorrow, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ Liam promised and stood in the doorway until she’d climbed into her little Fiat and driven away.

The one plus about his mother’s unexpected visit was the reminder about clothes, because he would never have given any thought to what he should wear for the interview until it was time to
walk out of the door. Anna usually left something out for him and he wore it without question. Going up to his wardrobe, he took out his best suit, examined and sniffed it. It looked okay but there
was a faint whiff of smoke. If he hung it on the line for an hour it should be fine. Next, he flicked through his shirts. Despite his mother’s advice, he pulled out a pale grey one, with a
grey and green silk tie that Anna had bought to match it. She’d always said the colours suited him and he looked like Managing Director material when he wore it. Well, he’d settle for
Factory Manager.

Leaving the shirt and tie hanging on the wardrobe door, Liam carried the suit downstairs and hung it out on the clothesline in the back garden. It was a cool day and there were some dark clouds
in the distance but the rain should hold off for a while. Going back inside, Liam noticed for the first time that not only had his mother done all the washing up, she’d tidied as well and the
house was looking almost presentable. Anna would be very impressed if she came home and it was like this, although she’d guess that his mother had had a hand in it.

He toyed with the idea of phoning Anna, but what was the point? It would be another disaster with silences punctuated by monosyllables. If he could only get a job, he knew that everything would
be all right again. Feeling optimistic and determined, Liam went to the desk in the corner of their kitchen and started to put together the file that he would bring with him tomorrow. Maybe this
was the one. He must be due a break by now.

Tara watched Josie getting out of the car. No prizes for guessing where she’d been. Tara didn’t know how Liam put up with the old bat – she seemed to live in
his pocket. The young woman felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy for Anna; having a mother-in-law like that couldn’t be easy. Having said that, Tara was able to handle Josie and women
like her without batting an eyelid. Working in this business you learned how to deal with people and you learned how to tell them what they wanted to hear. Josie positively lapped it up when Tara
praised her mothering skills, her fabulous garden and her amazing chocolate cheesecake. She eagerly agreed when Tara ventured the opinion that married women were better in the home looking after
their husbands, and how it was best to have children young. At this point, Tara would add how it was a great sorrow to her that she herself didn’t have any children yet, and with tears in her
eyes, Josie would comfort her that she was still young. Tara could imagine Josie dreaming of what it would have been like if Liam had married her instead of Anna, sure that they would have given
her a grandchild within the year.

And what beautiful children they’d have produced, Tara thought, closing her eyes. Boys, tall and green-eyed like their father. Girls, blonde and blue-eyed like her. Tara opened her eyes
and shook her head. This was a dream she often had. Letting Liam Harrison go had been the biggest mistake of her life but now she had a second chance. She’d settle for being the mistress,
although playing second fiddle to Anna Gallagher didn’t really appeal to her. It would be much better if they split up and eventually got a divorce. Then, not only would she get her man,
she’d get a wedding day too.

As Tara daydreamed, Josie came back outside and started picking up the stray litter that had blown into her garden. Checking the appointments book, Tara saw that she didn’t have an
appointment for another hour. Just enough time to give her dear neighbour a free manicure. After all, she knew only too well that the way to any man’s heart was through his mother!

Rachel sat in the shallow end of the pool, grateful that there were no little monsters around to disrupt her peace as she enjoyed the feeling of the water supporting her bump.
It had been the beauty therapist’s suggestion when Rachel told her of the problems she was having with her pregnancy. The water would help with her swollen ankles, Maria said, and also give
her a rest from carrying so much weight around. Rachel was not only enjoying the rest but the time alone too. Anna had gone shopping, Jill had disappeared off somewhere soon after breakfast, her
dad was snoozing on a sunlounger and Bridie was curled up in a chair beside him engrossed in a paperback. As it was still early, the complex was quiet and Rachel had the pool all to herself.

Splashing water up on her neck and face, she rested her head against the side of the pool and closed her eyes. Although she was too hot most of the time, Rachel was still enjoying her holiday
much more than she’d expected. She missed Alex, of course, but from the conversations she’d had with him, he was doing okay without her. While she was glad that he was happy, it hurt a
little that she could be so easily done without. Gary seemed to be managing very well and there had been none of the panicky phone calls she’d been expecting.

Every night when he called she drilled him about what Alex had eaten, worn, whether he was brushing his teeth properly. Gary answered her questions the first couple of nights but then just told
her that everything was fine and she should stop worrying. As if that was possible, married to him, Rachel thought, slapping at a fly on her arm.

‘Ooh, this is lovely!’

Rachel opened her eyes to see her mother lowering herself into the water beside her. ‘Finished the book?’

‘Yes, it was marvellous. I do love a good thriller. So, how are your ankles this morning?’

Rachel lifted one foot out of the water for inspection. ‘Fine. They always are until I try walking anywhere.’

‘Not long now,’ her mother comforted her. ‘By Christmas you’ll be back in your high-heels.’

Rachel laughed but her eyes were sad. ‘Where would I be going in high-heels? Out to the washing-line or down to the supermarket?’

Bridie sighed. ‘You’re not looking forward to this baby, are you, love?’

Rachel opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again.

‘Don’t beat yourself up about it, Rache, you wouldn’t be the first woman to feel that way. You know, your Aunty Pat went through a very tough time when she was expecting
Jill.’

‘I didn’t know that.’ Rachel was immediately diverted. ‘What happened?’

‘Oh, God love her, she got sick all day every day for the first four months – or at least it seemed that way – and then they said there was something wrong with her womb and
she’d have to stay in bed until the baby was born.’

‘She must have had pre-eclampsia,’ Rachel surmised.

‘It was a terrible time and the maternity hospitals weren’t very nice places in those days. She was totally miserable and decided there and then that she’d never have another
child.’