‘Grandma, Grandma!’ Jasmine flew into her grandmother’s arms around 10.30 the following morning when Jacqueline unexpectedly arrived to collect her. Hilary had been expecting Colette so she had been surprised to find her elegantly turned-out mother on her doorstep, her navy Merc parked outside.
‘You were a dear to keep Jasmine, Hilary. I hope you don’t mind me coming so early but I want to spend time with her before they go away to the States, and I’m afraid both Des and Colette are a little under the weather – it was a very late night. She asked me to tell you that she’ll phone you when she gets back to London,’ Jacqueline said in her beautifully modulated voice that had no hint of her Dublin origins.
‘That’s fine, Mrs O’Mahony. Jazzy’s had her breakfast, and she was a very good girl,’ Hilary said kindly, handing the other woman Jasmine’s overnight bag and thinking that the little girl cuddled into her grandmother was the spitting image of Colette when she was younger. She was glad to see the obvious bond between grandparent and grandchild. Jacqueline was mellowing as the years went by, it seemed.
‘Well cheerio then and thanks again,’ Jacqueline said briskly, taking Jazzy by the hand and making for the door. ‘Enjoy the rest of your Sunday.’
‘I will and you too,’ Hilary said politely, thinking, as the Merc drove out of sight, how rude it was of Jasmine to not even say thank you and how lacking of Jacqueline not to insist upon it.
‘So they’ve got bad hangovers – serves them right. At least we didn’t have to listen to them yakking about who they met and mingled with last night,’ Niall said, pouring her a mug of fresh coffee he’d just brewed. ‘Come on, the girls are out the back on the swings – let’s take our papers outside and relax and we’ll go to Clontarf Castle for lunch and not bother cooking today.’
‘You’re on,’ she agreed, picking up the Sunday Tribune Niall had bought earlier.
Her daughters were swinging happily at the end of the garden, the sun was warm on her face, Niall was sitting opposite her flicking through a Sunday supplement; she was a very lucky woman to have such a happy family life, Hilary thought gratefully, thinking of Jasmine going back to her grandmother’s house to parents that clearly did not have her happiness as a priority in their fast-paced lives. She wouldn’t swap her life with Colette’s for all the tea in China, that was for sure.
‘Darling, I’m soooooo sorry it’s been so long. Honestly, it’s all been maaad!’ Colette trilled gaily down the phone two months later.
‘Is that so, Colette?’ Hilary said tartly. ‘You went off to London without even ringing to say goodbye. You never even thanked me for having Jazzy to stay for Rowena’s wedding. You dropped Niall and me like hot potatoes that day, to lick up to the so-called movers and shakers. How rude was that? And I thought you wanted me to come over and stay for a couple of days, when you were leaving. What happened to that plan? You went to America and didn’t even pick up the phone to contact me. Some friend you are, Colette O’Mahony.’ Hilary couldn’t hide her anger. She had been sizzling about Colette’s behaviour for weeks and she was going to give vent to her feelings. This time she’d really had enough! She’d had this conversation in her head for the last two months: now it was for real and she was glad to have her say.
‘Oh!’ Colette was taken aback by Hilary’s unexpected onslaught. ‘Well, things were so hectic, and so many people wanted to see me before I left, and then Carole Curtis arranged a dinner in San Lorenzo the night before I went and I couldn’t very well turn it down, and it was all just craaazy! But listen, you’ll have to come over to New York sometime this year. Apart from the humidity I adore it here. We are having a ball, we’ve got a fabulous apartment in Tribeca and we’ve spent a few weekends in the Hamptons and Nantucket. We’ve made some great friends; I don’t know what I was worried about. And Jazzy loves it and loves her new au pair.’ Colette ignored Hilary’s outburst completely as she always did when they rowed.
‘That’s great, Colette, I’m delighted for you,’ Hilary said flatly. ‘Just a word of advice about your new friends. To have a friend you have to be a friend, which is something you don’t know anything about and—’
‘Oh don’t be huffy with me, Hil. You know you’re my best friend and I hate it when you’re cool,’ Colette begged.
‘Well you’ve a funny way of showing friendship, that’s all I can say,’ Hilary retorted. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself for treating me like this after all these years. I’ve been a bloody good friend to you.’
‘I know. I know, I’m terrible, the worst friend ever,’ Colette agreed gaily. ‘Listen, I have to fly, that’s the doorman buzzing me. A Town Car has arrived to bring me to the Met. I’m meeting the owner of a fantastic art gallery, Madeleine van der Post, for lunch. We’ll talk soon. I’ll fax you my address and phone number,’ Colette cooed. ‘Love to all and when you come to the Big Apple I’ll give you the time of your life and I’ll make it up to you, I promise—’
‘Don’t bother your arse, Colette, because I won’t be coming to the Big Apple,’ Hilary said furiously. ‘I’ve had it with you, lady. You can go and get lost! You’re no friend of mine!’ She slammed down the phone, livid at Colette’s bad behaviour.
Colette O’Mahony Williams could frig off for herself. She’d had more than enough of her.
‘Phew!’ Colette murmured,
