‘She’s snoring.’ Hilary glanced over her shoulder to see the unkempt teen lying against the seat, eyes closed, mouth open, out for the count.
‘Thank God the parents are dining out in the Windmill in Skerries. Could you imagine what they’d have to say if they saw this,’ Colette groaned as Hilary reversed out of her parking space and headed for Sutton.
‘Well that’s a bit of luck. Be thankful for small mercies,’ Hilary soothed, relieved that the traffic was relatively light. The sooner she got Jazzy out of her car the better.
‘Thanks so much, Hil, and sorry for the way the evening ended. Let’s try and meet up for lunch before I go back to London next week,’ Colette said gratefully when Hilary pulled up outside the O’Mahonys’ front door.
‘I’ll do my best. I’ll need to check my diary. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how the Sleeping Beauty is. Let me help you get her out. You open the front door.’
‘Right,’ Colette agreed. ‘The sooner she’s in bed the better.’ Between them they managed to get Jazzy upstairs to bed and as she made her way downstairs, Hilary heard the unmistakable sound of noisy retching and Colette yelling at Des, ‘Get a towel or a basin quick! Mum’s Frette sheets will be ruined.’
And that would be a tragedy! thought Hilary sarcastically as she pulled the heavy mahogany front door with the two intricate stained-glass side panels closed behind her.
‘What did you make that daft remark about Jonathan to Colette for?’ Hilary said crossly as she and Niall finished stacking the dishwasher and clearing up after their dinner party. Sophie and Leanne were safely collected from the disco and were upstairs giggling and gossiping over the night they had spent. Millie was staying at a friend’s house, and Hilary was tired and disgruntled.
‘It was a joke,’ he sighed in exasperation.
‘Yeah, well it was a crap joke and I didn’t appreciate you talking about Jonathan like that, and to her of all people. She never has a good word to say about him and I can tell you one thing, Niall, Jonathan’s been a better friend to me in the ten years I’ve known him than Colette has been for most of our lives, and you know that,’ Hilary scowled, collapsing onto the sofa.
‘OK, give it a rest. You’re not serious about going to visit them in New York, are you?’ he said, changing the subject and handing her a glass of red wine.
‘I wouldn’t mind going to Nantucket for a week and staying in a house on the beach with a swimming pool.’ Hilary yawned.
‘Yeah but remember when Rowena and Pete were invited over and because some of Des’s clients flew in from Hong Kong he made Colette bump them out of the house to stay in a hotel? Trust me, they’d do that to us and it wouldn’t cost them a thought. If you want to go to Nantucket, I’ll bring you to a hotel,’ Niall said firmly. ‘Or we could rent a place ourselves.’
‘Ha! Don’t be daft. You wouldn’t get a place to rent in Nantucket during the summer, not unless you paid out a lot of lolly, and I’d say we’d want to have booked it before now.’ Hilary kicked her shoes off and lay back against the cushions.
‘I don’t think I could spend a holiday listening to them boasting and bragging, and being told where to invest our “loot”,’ Niall said emphatically. ‘Not that he’d be on the island for a week. He’s so important, JPMorgan can’t function without him; he’d be in his corner office on Wall Street dealing with his billionaires.’
Hilary laughed and began to relax. ‘He’s the pits, isn’t he? He’s got even worse than what he used to be. I’d go mental if I was married to him.’
Niall put an arm around her shoulder. Hilary stiffened for a moment. She was still annoyed at Niall for his smart remark, but at least she’d aired her displeasure and she was too tired to stay in a snit. ‘Colette couldn’t wait to let us know about hiring the private jet.’ She leaned in against him and took a sip of wine.
‘They’re way out of our league now.’ Niall smiled down at her, relieved that their spat hadn’t developed into a row.
‘You were bad when you said about the simulator,’ Hilary grinned.
‘Not half as bad as I’m going to be now,’ Niall murmured, sliding his hand under her floaty top and cupping one of her breasts.
‘Stop! The girls might come down.’
‘No they won’t.’ He nuzzled her ear.
‘No, stop, Niall, I’m tired.’ Hilary sat up. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘You’re always tired these days,’ he said irritably, taking a slug of wine and switching on the TV. He grunted ‘Goodnight’ when she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.
As she lay in bed listening to the girls giggling upstairs, Hilary felt weary to her bones. It had been a long day and Jazzy’s episode hadn’t helped. There was a time when she would have enjoyed having some nookie on the sofa, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood for sex and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was annoyed with Niall, or because she was whacked from work and having to entertain Colette and Des to boot. It was probably a combination of all of them, she sighed. She might have put on an airy façade for Colette about work but the truth was, even after employing extra staff, she and Jonathan were snowed under with work and she was finding it hard-going. She had tried to ease off after she’d gone to London with the girls but despite her best intentions and her new assistant, the firm had never been busier and neither had she. She was a successful career woman, certainly, thanks to the Celtic Tiger, but her marriage was wilting under
