Colette kept her eyes on her father’s coffin reposing at the foot of the altar, while walking up the aisle, her mother positioned between her and Des. All through the course of the previous evening’s removal ceremony, when the multitudes from the Law Courts, their friends and neighbours and many more came to offer their condolences, Colette had been on tenterhooks wondering would Hilary make an appearance. Sally and Jacqueline had been friends once. She would have expected Sally, at least, to be there. Because Sally was elderly, she was sure Hilary would have accompanied her. She couldn’t believe that they had been no-shows.
Perhaps they’d attend the funeral Mass, she thought agitatedly. She’d be exceedingly gracious if they came and insist that they come to the meal in the Royal Marine afterwards. Hilary would come. Colette was sure of it. After all it was Frank’s funeral. Who could keep up bad feeling at a funeral? Colette could use the opportunity to explain that the incident that had sundered their friendship had been due to Colette’s being on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And it was true, she had fallen to pieces in the following months, she acknowledged, edging into the pew after her mother. She had become a recluse when she’d returned to London, and had cancelled her holiday in St Barts. She couldn’t face going alone and having to think about the nightmare her life had become. She was plagued by flashbacks of the afternoon she had discovered her father’s betrayal of her mother. And, although Colette wouldn’t admit it to a living soul, she was mortally ashamed of how low she’d sunk, and how disloyal she’d been to Hilary, and equally horrified at her behaviour with Niall. She was no better than her father, she’d tormented herself.
The trip in February to spend time with Jazzy in New York had tipped her over the edge. She hadn’t met up with Des, but when Jazzy told her he was now living near North Cove in Battery Park, she’d been gutted. ‘Is he with that woman?’ she’d asked, subdued.
‘No, that ended when he had the heart attack. He’s just had a complete lifestyle change,’ Jazzy assured her. ‘He jogs on the seafront, walks to work, relaxes at the Harbor, that kind of stuff. I like his new apartment. Are you sure you don’t want to come and visit him?’ she’d asked hopefully.
‘No!’ Colette said emphatically. She couldn’t wait to fly out of JFK. Revisiting New York had left her feeling shaky and deeply depressed. When she got back to London she’d stayed in bed for a week drinking, and tempted to take an overdose of pills to put her out of her misery. A dose of the flu meant a visit to her old doctor and out of the blue she’d found herself howling in his office when he’d told her she looked very peaky and under the weather. She’d ended up on antidepressants and with a letter to see a therapist, which she’d stuffed in her dressing-table drawer.
It had taken the guts of a year before she’d felt more like herself. Des wasn’t the only one who’d had the stuffing knocked out of him, she’d told him during one of their fraught phone calls. Thoughts of Hilary were instantly dismissed. She simply did not allow herself to think of the other woman and she had managed to blank out the mortifying episode that had ruined their friendship.
Gradually she had resumed working in Dickon and Austen’s Knightsbridge gallery and her social life had picked up again, and while she would never reach the dizzy heights she had in New York, she had begun to enjoy her life in London. Her father’s death was an inconvenience she could have done without. Ireland was the last place she wanted to go to. She dreaded being reminded of the past.
Colette was surrounded by mourners paying their respects, outside the church after the funeral Mass, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Sally embrace Jacqueline. The two elderly ladies clung to each other as Sally murmured words of comfort in Jacqueline’s ear, and then Hilary was there, behind her mother, looking very smart in a tailored black suit. Her make-up was subtle but classy, her hair was beautifully cut and she’d dropped weight.
So she’d come, Colette thought triumphantly, just as she knew Hilary would. She turned away to speak to an elderly colleague of her father’s, and was shaking hands with a second cousin when Hilary appeared at the edge of the group. Colette pretended not to see her until her former friend was almost beside her.
‘Hilary!’ she said with feigned surprise. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
‘I brought Mam. She was anxious to offer her condolences to your mother,’ Hilary said calmly. ‘I wouldn’t go from here without offering you mine.’
‘That was kind. You will come to the meal afterwards so they can have time to chat,’ Colette said casually.
‘I’m sorry, we can’t go on to the grave. We’re going to a wedding this afternoon, so we need to go home and change.’
‘Anyone I know?’ Colette raised an eyebrow.
‘Leanne, Sophie’s friend. Jazzy knows her. They keep in touch on Skype. I must have a word with Jazzy – I saw her earlier,’ Hilary said as politely as though she were talking to a stranger.
‘I see. And how are you?’ Colette asked, trying not to betray her disappointment that Sally and Hilary were not coming to the meal and there would be no chance to explain things.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I am sorry for your loss,’ Hilary said quietly.
‘Thanks.’ Colette knew Hilary meant what she said and she felt comforted by it. ‘As you now know, Dad and I had a rocky relationship. I’m very conflicted about him.
