‘She’s a bit nervous, but the bridesmaid dress is fabulous on her. It made me cry when I saw her. She’ll be next, I’d say.’
‘Well I don’t know about that,’ grinned Jonathan, rooting in the mini fridge for a carton of milk.
‘Really? What are you saying?’ Hilary demanded, pushing her diary away. Compared to the hectic days of the boom, there were a lot of gaps in it.
‘Well you know Murray’s been commissioned to do the photography for a book on Irish heritage and learning in Europe?’ He cocked an eye at her.
‘Yeah, I heard you talking about it.’
‘I’m going to travel with him for a couple of months in the autumn and see where it goes from there.’ Jonathan’s face split in a melon-sliced grin.
‘Oh bliss! That sounds fantastic. Jonathan, I’m delighted it’s all going so well for you. Murray is all I’d want for you and more. But I’ll miss you!’ She made a face.
‘You and Niall can fly out and join us on weekend breaks every so often,’ he suggested, pouring them two mugs of tea.
Hilary laughed. ‘Those days are gone. Remember when money was no object? Remember how I booked flights for myself and the girls to fly to London that time, and it cost hundreds, and it didn’t cost me a thought? Can’t do that any more, I’m afraid. But maybe we might manage one weekend!’
‘We’d have great fun. How about when he’s photographing the Irish college in Rome?’ Jonathan urged.
‘I’m getting excited,’ Hilary grinned.
‘Oh and by the way . . . if Murray and I go down the aisle, you’re my bridesmaid!’
‘I should think so, buster. I should very much think so,’ Hilary declared. ‘I’d better go on a diet!’
‘I think you’re mad to go to that funeral. I wouldn’t give that two-faced bitch the satisfaction,’ Niall growled when Hilary told him she was accompanying her mother to Frank O’Mahony’s funeral. ‘Let Dee bring your mother.’
‘Mam and Dee don’t know what happened with Colette, so they’d be wondering why I didn’t go, and besides, my mother is an inspiration to me. Jacqueline dropped her like a hot potato when she hit the big time and began mixing with the la-di-das and she didn’t need Colette minded any more, but when Mam heard Frank was dead, do you know what she said?’
‘What?’ Niall asked.
‘She said, “Poor Jacqueline, my heart goes out to her. I know what it feels like to lose a husband and she might need a shoulder to cry on.”’
‘Your mother’s a saint,’ Niall retorted. ‘Like mother, like daughter!’
‘Far from it, and you and I know that. But she’s a very good, decent person and the least I can do is support her.’
‘You’re a very good and decent person too, and a big softie with it. Just don’t let that Colette one take advantage of that softness again,’ he warned.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ she assured him. ‘Colette has wiped her shoes on me for the last time.’
‘Well that’s good to know. Give her my regards, ha ha!’ He grinned at her. ‘Tell her I’m aching for her.’
‘Smarty!’ She flicked him with the tea towel before going off to make an appointment to have her hair and make-up done, rather pleased that she’d be looking her best the next time she saw Colette.
Des looked older, thinner, Colette noted, as he, Jazzy and Jackson emerged though the opaque doors of arrivals at Dublin Airport. She was so glad her daughter’s boyfriend had accompanied Jazzy. Things were serious between them and Colette was most relieved that her precious child seemed to be having more luck with men than she’d ever had.
‘Sorry about your father, Colette.’ Des leaned over to give her an awkward peck on the cheek.
‘Thanks,’ she said coolly before turning to gather her daughter into an embrace, and then kiss Jackson.
‘My condolences, Mrs Williams,’ the young man said politely.
‘Please, Jackson, it’s Colette. I’m too young to be Mrs anybody,’ she smiled at him.
‘It was kind of you to meet us, we could have taken a cab,’ Des said, falling into step beside her as they walked through Arrivals towards the exit.
‘Mum insisted. And she wants you to stay in the house. It’s entirely up to you, Des. You can have Jazzy’s old room, and they can have the guest room, but if you want to stay in a hotel that’s equally fine. Your call.’
‘If it’s OK, I’ll stay with you. It would be nice for Jazzy to have some family time.’
‘Whatever that is,’ Colette said sarcastically.
‘Please don’t let’s fight. Not at this time,’ Des said quietly, to her surprise. His difficulties had certainly diminished his brashness somewhat.
‘OK,’ she agreed, too weary after the stress of the past few days to argue.
‘If you want to, we can finalize the divorce too. I took the opportunity to have Dwayne Fuller make out a spreadsheet of our . . . er . . . remaining assets.’
‘You mean we have some?’ she said drily.
‘A few, actually. It’s not as bad as we thought, and we will get something back, in time, from the Madoff fiasco,’ Des informed her crisply. ‘Colette, will you tell me one thing?’
‘What’s that?’ She glanced at him cagily.
‘How did you get the gold out?’
Colette laughed. ‘It wasn’t difficult. I packed it in the drawer of the desk and had it shipped.’
‘Good God! That was risky, in many ways,’ he exclaimed, appalled.
‘I know. I was peppering for three long months,’ she admitted. ‘But it wasn’t spotted going through Customs, and it wasn’t stolen, it got through and arrived intact!’
‘You’re something else, you know! I was a fool to mess you around,’ Des said admiringly.
‘Indeed you were,’ Colette agreed matter-of-factly, slowing down
