The Woman Who Stole My Life (30 page)

‘Is this one unpasteurized? Aw? It’s not?’ The man pointing at a cheese behind the Dean & DeLuca glass counter seemed irked. ‘Then I don’t want to know. So just show me the unpasteurized!’

I studied the man carefully; he wore a pair of smart-ish cords and a navy blue polo-neck jumper in a strange, unpleasant-looking silky knit. He had a shiny bald head and looked the very picture of an Upper West Side intellectual. Also he was abrupt to the point of rudeness, which
again
was quintessential New Yorker behaviour, so I was told. But, if Inga Ola was to be believed, he was just an eejit tourist visiting from Indiana.

The day had started with a lavish breakfast in our towelling robes in our suite in the Mandarin Oriental, then Mannix and I subjected Betsy and Jeffrey to a ‘serious talk’.

I explained that I had a publishing deal conditional on me living in the US.

‘If your dad is okay with it –’ I swallowed. ‘And we manage to get you into a good school, you would live in New York with me –’

The squealing and jumping started.

‘– and Mannix,’ I finished. ‘If we do this, Mannix and I will be together. Living together. Think about it.’

‘It’s totally fine with me,’ Betsy said.

‘And you, Jeffrey?’ I asked.

He wouldn’t make eye contact – torn between wanting to live in New York and needing to demonstrate his disapproval. Eventually he said, ‘Yeah. Okay.’

‘Really?’ I insisted. ‘You need to be sure about this, Jeffrey. Because once we make the decision, we can’t unmake it.’

He stared at the table, and after a long silence, he said, ‘I’m sure.’

‘Well, good. Thank you.’ I focused on Betsy. ‘What about you and Tyler?’ They were still officially in love.

‘He’ll come visit,’ she chirped. He wouldn’t, and we both knew it, but it didn’t matter.

‘So are you going to be rich?’ Jeffrey mumbled.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It’s … risky.’

Everything was perilous and unknown. Who knew if the book would sell? Who knew how the kids would cope in the fastest city in the world? And who knew if Mannix and I would adapt from basically having an affair to living and working together 24/7?

Only one way to find out …

‘Smarten yourselves up,’ I said. ‘But not too much. Academy Manhattan,’ I paused to quote from the promotional material that Bunda Skogell had given me, ‘“celebrates the individualism of their students”. Betsy, don’t brush your hair.’

Thirty minutes later, we were getting the grand tour of Academy Manhattan’s magnificent amenities. ‘Excellent,’ we murmured, at the swimming pool, the orchestra space, the glass-blowing room … ‘Excellent.’

Then the real business began: the interviews. Three members of the board of governors interrogated us as a family unit to see if we were a good fit with the Academy ethos. Jeffrey was a bit surly but I desperately hoped that Betsy’s
sunniness would compensate. When the interview ended, Betsy and Jeffrey were taken to sit a slew of aptitude tests and I was subjected to a solo grilling with the governors. Their questions were fairly mild – what sort of parent would I describe myself as, that sort of thing – but when I was done, and it was Mannix’s turn, my nerves were jangling.

‘Good luck,’ I whispered to him.

‘We’ll be about thirty minutes,’ the nicest of the interview ladies told me. ‘Please avail yourself of the facilities in hospitality.’

‘Okay …’ I tried to savour the comfort of the chair in the reception room but I was as jumpy as a cat, as I focused on all the obstacles that might block this miracle opportunity – Jeffrey might deliberately fail the tests or Mannix mightn’t make a convincing father figure without me at his side, feeding him his lines …

I stood up, wishing I could distract myself from the worry. I’d try to think about nice things. Dean & DeLuca, for example … It was only a couple of blocks away; we’d passed it on the way here. When I remembered how Inga Ola had damned it as the haunt of hillbillies and hayseeds, I was slapped with shame. Then some fighting spirit rallied and I decided to go back and check – it was one small thing I could control in a life that had suddenly gone mad.

I didn’t have much time so I hurried along the streets, and as soon as I passed through the store’s doorway my heart lifted – the exuberant bunches of flowers, the architectural stacks of gem-coloured fruit! Surely this wasn’t simply another tourist attraction like, say, Woodbury Common? The silky-knit, unpasteurized-cheese man
certainly
seemed local.

In a bid to rescue my paradise from Inga Ola’s judgement, I approached the silky-knit man and said, ‘Excuse me, sir, are you a native New Yorker?’

He stared at me from under hooded eyes. ‘What the hell?’

I had my answer. Rude, rude, delightfully rude: he was the real thing. ‘Thank you.’

Feeling better, I went to stare at a sackful of coffee beans that had been passed through the digestive tract of an elephant. I’d read about this stuff – apparently it was more expensive per ounce than gold. I lingered, interested and repelled.

I would
die
if Dad could see me. He’d never had coffee in his life. (‘Why would I, when I can have tea?’) And certainly not coffee that had been processed by an elephant.

With some vague notion of buying presents for Mum and Karen, I moved on to the chocolate section and reached for a box at the same time as another woman did.

‘Sorry.’ I backed off.

‘No, you have them,’ the woman said.

That was when I realized I knew her: it was Gilda from last night.

‘Heyyy!’ She looked as pleased as punch to see me and I too felt great warmth towards her, so much so that, in less than five minutes, we agreed that she’d be my personal trainer when I returned to New York.

‘The only thing is,’ I said. ‘I’m not sporty. Not one bit.’ I was afraid now. What had I let myself in for?

‘We could try it for … say … a week? See if we’re a good fit.’

She gave me her card and reassured me that everything was going to be fine, which was nice to hear. ‘That’s great,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry but I’d better go.’

‘What’s on for you today?’

‘I pick up the kids and Mannix, collect our bags from the hotel, go to the airport. Fly home, tell everyone the news and start packing up my life.’

‘Wow. Big stuff. And Mannix? He’s packing up his life too? He’s relocating with you?’

‘Yes,’ I said and let myself savour the thrill. ‘Mannix and I are doing this together.’

We were sitting in the departure lounge in JFK when the news came that Betsy and Jeffrey had been accepted at Academy Manhattan. Betsy squealed and whooped and even Jeffrey seemed pleased.

‘Wow.’ Mannix had paled a little. ‘We’ve got the school, the apartment, you’ve got the publishing deal … this is really happening. Time to start reassigning my patients for the next year.’

Worried, I looked at him. ‘We don’t have to do this.’

‘I want to. All the planets are in alignment,’ he said. ‘It’s just … it’s a big deal.’

‘I feel guilty about abandoning my clients when all I really do is paint their nails. So it must be much tougher for you.’

He shook his head. ‘You can’t do guilt when you’re a doctor. You have to compartmentalize, it’s the only way to survive. It’s okay, Stella. It’s only for a year. It’s all good.’

He reached for his phone and began clicking off emails.

I’d better start too. I had to speak to Ryan – I should have done it yesterday but I was afraid of the confrontation. And I had to work something out with Karen, perhaps see if someone could cover for me while I was away.

‘Oh!’ I’d remembered something. ‘While you were being interviewed this morning I did a quick visit to Dean & DeLuca and I bumped into Gilda.’

‘Gilda from last night? That was a coincidence.’

‘It was a sign – the planets
are
in alignment. When I come back, she’s going to be my personal trainer. We’re going to go
running together. You can come too.’ Then I thought about it. ‘Or maybe not. She’s a bit young and beautiful.’

‘
You’re
young and beautiful.’

‘I’m not.’

And even if I was, the world was full of young, beautiful women.

‘Don’t think that way.’ He read my thoughts. ‘You can trust me.’

Could I? Well, I had no real choice but to believe him. Living any other way would just send me mad.

Back at home, as predicted, Ryan went berserk. ‘You can’t take my kids away! To another country. Another
continent
.’

‘Okay. They can stay with you.’

His lips twitched. ‘You mean …’ He stumbled over his words. ‘Here? All the time?’

‘For the next year or so. Until I know what’s going to happen.’

‘You want me to stay here in crappy old Ireland, taking care of your children, while you and Mannix Taylor swank up and down Fifth Avenue?’

‘They’re your children too.’

‘No, no,’ he said, quickly. ‘Am I going to be the baddy who stops my kids living in New York City? No, it’s a big opportunity for them.’

I hid my smile. It was unattractive to gloat.

‘So it’s a good school you’ve found?’

‘Similar to Quartley Daily but not as expensive.’

This, Ryan grudgingly accepted as a good news story.

‘And they can walk to school,’ I said. ‘It’s only five blocks from the apartment.’

‘The “apartment”.’ Ryan couldn’t hide his sneer. ‘Listen to you. And is Mannix really giving up his job?’

‘Yep.’ I tried to sound breezy.

‘But he’s a
doctor
.’

‘It’s only for a year …’ I was thinking of getting a T-shirt printed with the words.

Everyone seemed outraged with Mannix, as if he had a duty to keep curing sick people. ‘Doesn’t he feel guilty?’ Ryan asked.

‘He’s good at compartmentalizing.’

‘I wouldn’t go round boasting about that,’ Ryan said.

‘Compartmentalizing can help you survive.’

Ryan shook his head and smiled a small, mocking smile. ‘You keep telling yourself that and you’ll be grand. So you’re really getting a quarter of a million dollars? Do I get some of it?’

‘Well …’ I’d anticipated this question and Mannix had helped me prepare a reply. ‘You and I, Ryan, we’ve agreed our financial stuff …’

He shrugged; he’d only been chancing his arm. ‘You know it’s not even that much, your massive advance? You used to make forty grand a year, Mannix about a hundred and fifty, right?’

‘How do you know?’ I knew Mannix’s salary, but I’d never told Ryan.

‘I’ve been … in touch with Georgie Dawson.’

I stared at him. ‘Why?’

‘Just keeping myself in the loop. Looking out for myself, seeing as no one else bothers. So, like I was saying, a quarter of a million dollars is only a bit more than a year of your current combined income. How are you and Mannix going to share it? You’re going to give him a little bit of walking-around money every week, like he’s your bitch? He won’t go for that.’

‘This is none of your business, Ryan, but we’ve opened a joint account for our living expenses, rent and all the rest of it. Mannix didn’t want any of the advance, but he deserves it:
he made the book happen. And he’s given up his job to work with me, so he should be paid.’

‘So you’re sharing everything?’

‘We still have the bank accounts from our current lives but we’re opening a new joint account and from now on we’re going to share everything.’

‘True love.’ Ryan pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. ‘Still, that money won’t last long.’

Defensively I said, ‘If things go well, we might make more. They’ve asked me to do a second book.’

‘As if that’s going to work! This
One Blink at a Time
thing is a freak, a black swan. There are about eight million books published every year. There’s an overwhelming chance that you’re going to fail.’

Okay, Ryan was jealous. He was the artistic one and this wasn’t how things were meant to pan out. But I was the person who was moving to New York to live with the man of my dreams so I could afford to be magnanimous.

Not everyone was as mean-spirited as Ryan. When I asked Karen if I could take a year off, she suggested that she buy me out.

I was dumbstruck. I’d thought she was going to rage at me about how inconvenient it all was.

‘You’re over it,’ she said. ‘The whole salon thing.’

She was right, and I was hit by a huge sense of relief.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I feel relieved too.’

‘It was always yours, really.’

‘Maybe. A couple of things,’ she said. ‘Good luck with your new life and all that, but don’t sell your house.’

‘I wasn’t planning to. I know this is a massive risk, Karen; I’m only burning a few teeny bridges.’

‘Good. Like, don’t be stupid. Have a plan B. And a plan C.’

Suddenly I felt queasy. ‘Karen, am I mad? Is it crazy? Giving up my job, moving my children across the world, Mannix taking a year off?’ Nausea sloshed around in my stomach. ‘Karen, it’s all just hitting me … I think, I think … I’m going into shock.’

‘Get a grip of yourself. This is a fecking miracle, like winning the lottery. Well, in a way. Not as much money as winning the lottery. But be
happy
.’

I took a deep breath, then another one. ‘Listen, I’m going to sell my car. I’ve nowhere to put it.’

‘Leave it with me,’ she said, quickly. ‘I’ll do it. Another thing – I hear you and Mannix Taylor are opening a joint bank account. I think you’re crazy. I’d never let Enda Mulreid have a penny of mine. So, the money from your share of the salon, I’m putting it in a new account for you and just you. Call it your rainy day account, your running away account, whatever. One day you might be glad of it.’

‘But you just told me to be happy.’

‘Be happy
and
careful.’

‘Happy
and
careful,’ I repeated, a little sarcastically. ‘Okay, I must go, to tell Mum and Dad.’

Mum and Dad claimed to be delighted for me, even if Mum didn’t seem to fully understand what was happening. Dad, however, was painfully proud. ‘My own daughter, having a book published, in New York! I might come and visit.’

‘Do you even own a passport?’

‘I can get one.’

Next, I called on Zoe, who cried uncontrollably at the news, but she cried uncontrollably a lot these days.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘You deserve this. You went through hell when you were sick. Now something good has come of it. But I’ll miss you.’

‘It’s not for ever.’

‘And while you’re over there, I’ll be able to visit and stay, rent-free. Maybe I’ll even move in with you, seeing as my life here has fallen to pieces.’

‘It’ll improve.’

‘You think?’

‘Of course.’ My phone rang. ‘It’s Georgie,’ I said. ‘Do you mind if I take it?’

‘Not at all.’ She waved me away and rubbed her face with a tissue.

‘Darling!’ Georgie declared. ‘I could die with joy for you! I lived in New York for a year when I was eighteen – I had an Italian boyfriend, GianLuca, a prince, I mean
literally
a prince, minor Italian royalty. Shedloads of them knocking around the world. Gorgeous man, not a penny to his name and crazy as a loon. Made me iron his shirts with vetivert linen-water, and if I forgot he wouldn’t screw me. Even today the smell of vetivert makes me weepy and horny.’

I couldn’t help laughing and Zoe stared at me woefully, hunched in on herself, clutching her tissue.

‘Mannix tells me you leave next week?’ Georgie said. ‘You’re going to miss my Separation party. I
so
wanted you both there. You couldn’t change your dates just a teeny little bit?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said, gently.

‘Boo,’ she said. ‘Could you pop back for it? Simply jump on a plane?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘You lovely nutter. But I’ll see you before I leave. We can raise a glass of Prosecco to celebrate your separation then.’

‘Oh, darling. My bad. I always make everything about me. Congratulations on your book deal. Big kisses!’ In a flurry of lip-smacking, she ended the call.

‘How do some people split up nicely?’ Zoe asked. ‘I hate
Brendan so much, I could spit. I wish every bad thing in the world to happen to him. I want him to go on holiday to Australia, and when he lands I want his father to die so he’ll have to fly straight back home. I want him to get dick-rot. You know, I Google diseases and wish them on him. There’s this awful thing you can get in your anus, a bacteria that causes constant itching –’

I had to stop her. She could keep going in this vein for hours. Quickly, I said, ‘It wasn’t always friendly with Mannix and Georgie.’

‘But it is now.’

‘Yep. Divorce paperwork filed, the house sold …’

‘Negative equity?’ Zoe asked hopefully.

‘No debt. No money in it either. But a clean break.’

Planets in alignment, just like Mannix had said.