‘That’s a nice tree. See, Frank, Colette has decorated.’ She glared at her husband who was studying the red-and-gold-themed tree that Colette had paid a company to dress for her.
‘I’ll just switch on the lights.’ Colette bent and clicked the plug. The last thing she had wanted to do was put up Christmas decorations, and a tree, but she felt she should make some nod towards the season seeing as she had invited her parents to spend it with her. The tree and some floral and candle arrangements were as far as she had gone.
‘So where are Jazzy and Des?’ Frank asked again, when Colette had served her mother Earl Grey and handed him a brandy snifter with a good measure of cognac. Colette took a deep breath.
‘It’s like this, actually, Mum and Dad. I found out that Des was having an affair and I’ve left him. We will be divorcing. He had a triple bypass so Jazzy is staying in New York for Christmas to be with him, and also because she doesn’t want to leave her boyfriend. I’ve moved back to London,’ she said dully.
‘Oh my love!’ Jacqueline exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s dreadful news. No wonder you look exhausted.’
Frank frowned. ‘Are you sure you want to divorce? Messy business, you know. And expensive.’
‘I know that.’ She shot a dour glance at him, irritated that he immediately honed in on the financial side of things without a word of condemnation of Des.
‘Hmm . . . well think long and hard. At least you have this place.’ Frank took an appreciative drink of the brandy.
‘Yes,’ Colette murmured. No thanks to Des, she thought grimly. ‘We took a hit with Lehman Brothers as well. We’ve lost a lot of money,’ she added. Losing because of Lehman wasn’t as shameful as being swindled by Madoff. Frank would never know that, or the fact that Des had tried to speculate with Frank’s late sister’s flat.
‘Good God, those bloody banks! All the years your mother and I worked like Trojans and we thought we were saving our pensions in the safest place possible. Damn bank shares! Damn crooks that were running them,’ Frank seethed. ‘Don’t get me started.’
‘Did you lose much?’ Colette asked in alarm. Her parents had been her standby if she ended up in straightened circumstances. She hadn’t thought that they would be hit financially, she’d been so concerned with her own situation.
‘Your father lost more than I did. I preferred to invest in Post Office bonds and certificates. I didn’t care much for those Anglo lot, from my dealings with them. Sharks!’ Jacqueline said a little smugly.
‘Don’t rub it in, Jacqueline,’ snapped her husband, glaring at her. ‘How much did you lose?’ He turned to Colette.
‘I’m not sure yet, but certainly enough to have a huge impact on our lifestyle. The Florida properties are gone, Aspen is for rental. Nantucket’s the same, and Des won’t be able to afford to rent a new apartment Uptown. I’m glad Jazzy is educated and living her own life; that makes my decision to come back to London easier.’ Colette took a sip of her G&T. She’d told her parents all she was going to tell them. They were staying for Christmas week, and then she was going back to Dublin with them for New Year. It was the longest time Colette would have spent alone with her parents. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was better than spending Christmas and New Year alone, and she knew she had the safety net of spending New Year’s Eve with Hilary.
It was almost like the closing of a circle. She had always spent New Year with Hilary and her family when she was very young. But it was not how she had envisaged spending this New Year, she thought bitterly, having to struggle not to break down and bawl. Hopefully her parents would be so tired from travelling they would have an early night because all she wanted to do was crawl under her duvet and hide from the world.
‘We got on like a house on fire, Hilary. I really like Murray. And don’t panic, he’s nothing like Leon,’ Jonathan assured his best friend as they sat in Ten Fourteen in Clontarf, tucked in to the window table, enjoying their annual Christmas lunch date. The midday sun dazzled on the glistening sea and they watched a huge cargo ship glide up the river, nudged gently along by two tugs.
‘He sounds lovely. Well done, Harpur, for being so plucky and inviting him for coffee.’ Hilary raised her wine glass to him.
‘I know! I heard it coming out of my mouth and couldn’t believe it. But we stayed talking for ages and then we had a bite to eat and we didn’t leave until after eight. We were there for nearly four hours.’
‘Excellent! You need someone new in your life.’
‘It’s just a friendship,’ Jonathan demurred.
‘Of course,’ agreed Hilary, eyes glinting in amusement.
‘It is!’
‘I know. And besides, I’ve got to meet him to give him the once-over. Are you seeing him again?’
‘Yep, we’re going to a carol service at St Patrick’s.’
‘Perfect date for the ex-altar boy and the ex-priest,’ Hilary teased and Jonathan guffawed.
‘Why don’t you bring him to our New Year hooley?’ she suggested, devouring a slice of crispy pork belly.
‘Really? Would you mind?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. The more the merrier. Do you think he’d come?’
‘I don’t know if he’s got plans made but all I can do is ask,’ Jonathan said, eating a piece of pan-fried salmon. ‘Do you know if Colette’s going
