One Hundred Names (13 page)

Eva just smiled.

‘So what was it?’ he asked, and looked at Kitty. ‘I bet you want to know.’

Kitty held her hands up as if to back out of it. ‘I’m merely an observer here.’

A gift that could get someone a promotion? Of course she wanted to know, and she wanted to know where she could buy it too. The sound was so light she could have imagined it but she was sure she heard a light snort as Nigel put the coffee cup down before her.

Nigel stepped in to explain. ‘What Mr Webb brought you here for today was to discuss his upcoming family gathering. They’re having a big reunion. Lots of people coming together, it’s very exciting for them all,’ he said drily and Eva, Kitty and George couldn’t help but laugh. ‘His sister is also getting married, it’s his grandfather’s eightieth birthday and they’ve decided to put it all into the same wonderful celebration day. Mr Webb quite simply needs your help.’

‘Thanks, Nigel,’ George said, and on that note Nigel left the room. George looked at his watch and seemed concerned.

Kitty sensed their time was up. Nigel had done what he was supposed to do, George had politely made time for the woman and now it was over. She drank her coffee quickly.

George looked at Eva. ‘What do you think?’

‘I’m sorry, what do I think about what?’

‘About taking the job.’

‘Where are your family based?’

George seemed confused. ‘Cork.’

‘When is the event?’

‘Here’s the thing, I haven’t been terribly organised. It’s next week. Friday. But Nigel – or I – can give you all the details you’re looking for.’ He leaned forward, his face intent. If Eva was any less beautiful, Kitty suspected George would have left the room a long time ago.

‘That’s very close. I usually take a few weeks at the very least.’

‘Weeks?’ George’s surprise reflected Kitty’s feelings exactly.

‘How many gifts are you thinking of?’

‘Oh, let’s see, Nigel has all these details but … one for my grandfather’s birthday, and one for my sister and her husband-to-be.’ He concentrated on a bit of invisible fluff on his trouser leg and picked at it and flicked it to the ground before finding another. ‘Oh, and there’s one other for another person.’

Kitty felt genuine disappointment at that, not for herself – George had barely looked her way since he’d entered the room, his attention had been entirely on Eva – and not just for business reasons. Kitty had to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from saying anything. It was obvious who the other person was, but he had been so charming, and though Eva was professional and a woman of few words she had clearly been responsive to him. Kitty could see that, and now there was a nice little connection between the two, which just made him saying what he had to say all the more awkward.

‘For your girlfriend?’ Eva asked, professionally.

‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s a one-year thing,’ he practically mumbled.

One final-year thing, Kitty thought to herself.

‘An anniversary,’ Eva said, making a note in her book. ‘Let me just explain how I work, Mr Webb—’

‘Call me George, please.’

‘George,’ she smiled. The connection was back and Kitty was invisible again. ‘I like to spend time with the people I’m buying gifts for. I like to see who they really are, what it is they really want and I choose items designed solely for them. I’m not sure if your assistant explained that to you.’

‘No he didn’t.’ George seemed uncomfortable with that. ‘I could just give you a budget of say, three thousand? And you could find something for them within that budget. Do you work on an hourly basis? I’m not sure how this works, because if you do, it really doesn’t matter about spending time with them, I’m willing to pay you a fee that makes it worth your while.’

‘I’m probably not the person you need for this,’ Eva said, which surprised Kitty. He was willing to pay her anything and she was turning it down. She wanted to throw her notebook at Eva’s head. ‘I think what you’re looking for is more of a personal shopper. You describe the person, they find the gift. A nice perfume for your mother, perhaps matching luggage tickets and passport holders for your sister and her husband, that kind of thing?’

‘Brilliant, that’s brilliant,’ he said, lighting up. Then he looked at his watch again and that frown returned; he was even later now.

‘I’m sorry, George, this job isn’t for me.’ Eva smiled and stood.

He sat on the couch and looked up at her in confusion. Then he realised what was going on and stood too. ‘Okay.’ He shook her hand, a bit put out, a bit annoyed. ‘Thanks for coming. I’ll make sure Nigel shows you out. I’m late for a meeting,’ he said. He took one last look at her, an intrigued one, he nodded at Kitty, said goodbye and left the room.

Nigel reappeared immediately and he, Kitty and Eva rode the elevator in silence.

‘Why did you suggest Eva for George?’ Kitty asked Nigel.

‘Is this for your piece?’ He said the word
‘piece’ as if it were a dirty word.

‘If you want it to be.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Fine, then, it’s off the record.’

He gave her a sarky look, then looked at Eva to answer the question. ‘I’ve worked for him for six years and for six years I’ve had to do all his lists. Birthdays, Christmas, christenings, you name it. I think it’s time his grandfather stopped receiving handkerchiefs and ties, though they were of the finest quality, of course,’ he said, complimenting himself.

‘Does he have a nice family?’ Eva asked, which Kitty thought was a rather unusual question.

‘Nice? They’d make you sick,’ Nigel said, which they both took to mean yes.

‘As wonderful as I am.’ He looked at Kitty, blinked his long lashes, then turned back to Eva. ‘They deserve better,’ he said seriously.

Eva nodded.

‘And I,’ he returned to his mock tones, ‘am tired of patrolling the aisles looking for anti-wrinkle moisturisers. I’ve better things to be doing.’

‘Like making coffee,’ Kitty said as they stepped out of the elevator.

‘Eddie will show you out, Kath-Kitty.’ He nodded his head at the burly security guard standing in the corner.

The doors closed and Kitty laughed, and they found themselves back on the path outside the IFSC.

‘Well,’ Kitty looked at Eva, feeling that she had certainly witnessed something very unusual in there, ‘that was interesting.’

‘Was it?’ Eva looked uncertain.

‘Mr Webb certainly took to you,’ Kitty said, and Eva’s cheeks pinked.

‘Mr Webb shouldn’t be taking to anyone,’ Eva said drily. ‘Mr Webb has a one-year anniversary to celebrate.’

‘Is that why you said no to the job?’

‘No! If you think I’m in this job to find men then you’re sorely mistaken,’ Eva said, ‘otherwise I would have said yes.’

They laughed.

‘So why did you say no to the job, exactly?’ Kitty asked.

‘Would you like to go for a coffee?’

Kitty weighed up her options. Eva was very nice and her job made for interesting conversation but she wasn’t sure there was anything there unless of course Constance’s story lay in Eva’s personal life. So far, to Kitty’s journalistic eye, there was nothing dramatic or overtly interesting about Eva. Once again Constance had found a subject that Kitty couldn’t yet identify. Kitty thought about the benefits of progressing with the other ninety-eight people on her list – people who had more immediate exciting stories to share – versus spending a few more hours with Eva to ask her about her life. Eva was a lovely girl, but Kitty was under pressure. She needed to move on.

‘I won’t take up any more of your time,’ Kitty smiled politely, feeling guilty over Eva’s fallen expression. ‘But before I go, I just have one question.’

‘Of course.’ Eva brightened again.

‘I was wondering, can you remember the first gift, really memorable gift, that you received that really meant something to you, that perhaps sparked something inside you? Perhaps it sparked this … this desire you have to buy people the perfect gift. That gift could be the reason you got into this … career.’

Eva looked sad and then her face brightened as the mask came back on again. ‘Yes,’ she said perkily. ‘It was a My Little Pony stable and pony. It was from my grandmother. I was seven years old and I absolutely loved it. I played with it every second of every day.’

‘Really?’ Kitty asked, surprised, disappointed even.

‘Yes.’ Her mask didn’t budge. ‘Why?’

‘I just thought that there was something, something with more meaning, or …’ She looked at her for more but Eva’s face was blank.

‘Nope. I really loved that pony,’ she said, her smile tight.

Eva watched Kitty Logan cycle away from her and she cursed herself. She could tell when she was being dropped like a hot potato. It had happened plenty of times before. Gaby would never forgive her for this one. Her one real opportunity to talk about her business in a way that she wanted and she had blown it. But she couldn’t give Kitty what she wanted. Kitty wanted more, she wanted to get inside Eva’s head, inside her heart. Eva knew she did that to other people, but she didn’t feel comfortable allowing anyone to occupy that place within her. She barely went to that place herself.

Her phone rang and she sighed and answered it. ‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Eva, can you come get me?’ Eva heard the whimper in her voice, the sniff, the weakness, and her heart dropped.

‘What happened?’ she asked, her voice thick with dread, knowing already.

‘It’s my wrist. I thought it was just a sprain but it’s been hurting me all night. I couldn’t sleep, and so I finally thought I should check it. They said it’s broken.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘The hospital.’

‘Where’s Dad?’

Silence. Then a quiet, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him today. Bessie brought me to hospital but she had to go to help Clare. She’s just had a baby, she needs help with the boys, and I can’t ask Bessie to come get me again.’

Eva felt the anger surge through her. Hot, hopeless anger that she could do nothing with, standing on the quays in Dublin city. And it would stay with her, no doubt, all the way back on the train to Galway, until she would arrive at the station, exhausted and drained.

‘I’m in Dublin,’ she said. ‘I won’t be home until this evening.’

‘That’s fine, I can wait.’

‘Why don’t you get a taxi?’

‘No. No, thanks. I’ll wait for you.’

Eva knew she’d say that. She never wanted anyone to see her like that. She would sit in the house until she’d healed, no doubt.

‘It will be hours, Mum.’

‘I’ll wait for you,’ her mother said with a firmness in her voice. Eva wondered where that strength disappeared to when the time really called for it. ‘I just hope I can get this cast off for your father’s birthday. He’s decided to have a party.’

‘When?’ Dread filled Eva again.

‘Friday week.’

‘Friday week? But …’ she stalled. ‘I can’t make it Friday week. He could have given me some notice at least.’

‘Oh, your father will be so disappointed,’ Eva’s mother said in a voice that made Eva’s stomach churn.

‘Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t turn down work – you know what it’s like these days.’ She looked up at the building she had just walked out of with Kitty. ‘Besides, I’ll be in Cork …’

The address of Archie Hamilton, sixty-seventh on the list of one hundred names, jumped out at Kitty as she made her way home after spending time with Eva. It was Friday evening; she felt it was a good time to call in, people would be home from work, they’d be sitting down to dinner, she would catch them unawares. Apart from Gaby, not one of her voicemails had had a response and she needed to keep moving. The clock was ticking on this story and as another day drew to a close, she was no closer to finding her subject. The thought panicked her far more than it should have.

Archie Hamilton lived in a block of flats a mere ten minutes’ walk from her flat. There was a strong sense of community around these parts. The immediate neighbours were tight: if you were from around there they had your back, if you weren’t … they didn’t and Kitty lived just outside this zone. While Archie Hamilton operated three locks to open the door, she waited on the balcony of the fourth floor. A young boy with bright red hair and freckles, sitting on a basketball, watched her and a crowd of kids on the ground floor hovered a little too closely to her bicycle, which was tied up at the railings.

A final lock was slid and the door opened until a chain stopped it from going any further. A pair of eyes stared back at her, bloodshot, rheumy eyes that looked as if they hadn’t seen the light of day for years. Kitty couldn’t help but take a step back.

‘Archie Hamilton?’ she asked, and the eyes looked her up and down, then the door slammed in her face.

She looked around, unsure whether to knock again or leave. The boy sitting on the basketball sniggered.

‘Do you know Archie?’ she asked.

‘Do you know Archie?’ he responded in exactly the same voice, mimicking her perfectly, getting the high-pitched tone and the slight country accent. In fact she felt he exaggerated the accent a little too much but either way it had a disturbing effect, which she was sure was intended. She debated leaving but she suddenly heard a voice inside calling Archie’s name and she stayed where she was. More locks turned, quicker this time, the chain slid across the door and the door was suddenly pulled open wide. A man, not the man who had first answered, but who replaced intimidation with anger and exhaustion, stared at her. He examined her as he put on his denim jacket, then, as though not liking what he saw, he stepped outside and she jumped back. He slammed the door and locked it. Then he put the keys in his pocket and charged off towards the stairs.

‘Excuse me?’ Kitty called out politely.

‘Excuse me?’ she heard her voice echoed behind her from the boy on the basketball.

The man kept on walking; she ran after him. He skipped down the concrete stairs. She gave up on politeness.

‘Are you Archie?’

‘What if I am?’

‘Well, if you are, I’d love to talk to you,’ she said, breathless as they started on the third flight of stairs.