‘Do I have to ask her to my party?’
Now why had that come back to haunt her? Colette thought crossly.
She gazed out of the window at the capital. Dublin had undergone such a transformation in the last few years. Even though it was well after midnight the city was teeming, vibrant with Friday night revellers spilling out of pubs and restaurants and heading for clubs and discos. The quays had changed totally from the way she’d remembered them, shabby, dilapidated and neglected. Now they were developed and revamped; modern office buildings and refurbished period houses gave an elegant, polished air that the capital had lacked for a long time.
Progress had certainly been good for her home town, she thought wearily, stifling a yawn. It had been a long week and she felt exhausted. And tomorrow she had to face her parents and make excuses for not telling them that she was coming to Dublin. She was glad she was staying in a hotel tonight and not having to make an effort to do any more talking. Des wouldn’t be finished socializing until the early hours. He’d end up with his cohorts in the Horseshoe Bar in the Shelbourne, where the in-crowd gathered on a Friday night. If she was at home with her parents she’d have to sit up and talk and she wasn’t in the humour. How strange life was, Colette mused. When she was young she would have given anything for her parents to have had the time and inclination to sit and talk to her, and now when they wanted to spend time with her she didn’t care to spend time with them. Too late to turn back the clock now, Colette thought resentfully. Far, far too late.
C
HAPTER
S
EVEN
‘What do you mean you stayed in the Shelbourne? Why didn’t you stay with us?’ Jacqueline O’Mahony asked huffily when Colette phoned her the following morning.
‘It was easier to be in town. Des is here for work, there was a meal in Guilbaud’s for his Irish counterpart’s retirement do and now he’s gone to play a round of golf with some of the senior execs. I can meet you here in the Shelbourne or come over to Sutton.’ Colette tried to hide her irritation with her mother. Surely she who was always so busy working, socializing and entertaining her own colleagues could understand what a business trip was like.
‘Is Jasmine with you?’
‘No, it’s such a short working trip I didn’t think it was fair to bring her.’
‘That’s a shame, Colette. Your father and I would love to see her, we get so little chance as it is, and after all she is our only grandchild,’ Jacqueline said snippily.
‘Well you’re always welcome to come over to London whenever you want,’ Colette said, resting against the big plump pillows of the queen-sized hotel bed, nibbling on a luscious strawberry from the fruit cup she had ordered for breakfast.
‘You know how busy we are, professionally and socially,’ Jacqueline retorted.
‘Right back at you, Mum,’ Colette riposted coolly. She heard her mother’s sharply inhaled breath of exasperation.
‘Well, let me see then – we’re going to lunch in the golf club with the McAdams and dinner with the Reilly-Carrolls in town tonight. You could join us for either,’ Jacqueline suggested, brightening up. How wonderful to be able to show off Colette. She was so knowledgeable about art and antiques and was always so elegantly turned out. And Des, although she found him rather brash and opinionated, was undeniably successful.
‘Just as well we didn’t stay with you then. You’re quite booked up – we would have hardly seen you,’ Colette said lightly, if a touch sarcastically.
‘I wouldn’t have made the arrangements if I’d known in advance that you were coming, Colette. I’m sure you must have had some idea of when you were arriving,’ Jacqueline said sharply. ‘It doesn’t really matter about lunch, the club can fit you in without prior notice, but if you are coming to dinner I’ll need to ring The Commons and advise them that we will have two extra guests.’
‘Why don’t you and Dad stroll over to the Horseshoe after dinner and we can have a drink with you here?’ Colette suggested, not wanting to listen to her parents and the Reilly-Carrolls trying to outdo each other in loquacious legalese.
‘I suppose we could do that.’ Jacqueline tried not to sound disappointed. She wasn’t a fan of the Horseshoe Bar with its drink-fuelled, testosterone-filled atmosphere, and standing room only, thronged with journalistic hacks, minor celebrities, high-flying business tycoons, drunken politicians and legal eagles, all trying to outdo each other. ‘Or you could come to brunch or lunch tomorrow? What time do you fly back?’
‘Around 4.30.’ Colette struggled to suppress a yawn.
‘Well then come for brunch around 12.30 and that will give you plenty of time to get to the airport,’ her mother said briskly.
‘Let me check with Des, but I think that will probably work for us,’ Colette said, relieved that she had got off relatively lightly.
‘Excellent,’ Jacqueline approved. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you.’
‘Me too,’ Colette reciprocated, feeling it was required of her.
‘And your father will be delighted,’ Jacqueline added.
‘Bye, Mum, talk later.’ Colette hung up and stretched, glad that their meeting was sorted and she hadn’t got too much of a lecture over not staying with her parents. Her mother was annoyed but that was her problem. Colette wasn’t going to let it affect her unduly. She had enough to worry about with this impending relocation and all it entailed.
She had pre-booked a facial and massage and she was going to have a leisurely day of pampering and
