‘Are you sure?’ she said, feeling a bit of a heel. She knew her mother-in-law loved their cup of coffee and scone after her warfarin test, but she really needed to drop her home and get to Castleknock to meet Jonathan and their new client.
‘We’ll do it again,’ Margaret assured her, slipping a pair of black-leather gloves onto her thin hands and grasping her walking stick firmly. She had broken her ankle in a fall and was only recently out of plaster and was a little unsteady on her feet. Hilary had offered to get her a wheelchair but Margaret wanted to get along under her own steam. If you gave in to yourself it was another step on the slippery road to dependency was her reasoning.
‘I’ll tell you what, let me get a few cream cakes on my way home and I’ll pop in for a cuppa later with the girls,’ she suggested, taking her mother-in-law’s arm and tailoring her pace to suit Margaret’s.
‘Lovely! I’ll have the fire lighting. I haven’t seen them since last week.’ Margaret perked up. Since Niall’s father had passed away two years previously she was lonely and loved company. Her granddaughters were her pride and joy and Sophie and Millie loved her dearly. But they were busy at secondary school now, their lives full, of study, sport and girly sessions with their friends. Sometimes she hardly saw them herself, if she was working down the country on a project, Hilary thought ruefully, hoping she hadn’t got clamped in the hospital car park.
It was over an hour later that she swung into the circular drive of a large, detached, double-fronted, red-brick house in Castleknock and saw Jonathan’s black BMW parked beside a massive SUV.
Hard to believe that Jonathan was now driving a top-of-the-range BMW. Hilary smiled, remembering a couple of boneshakers he’d driven in the early days of their partnership. He had come a long way from his studio flat, and his Civil Service job, in the past ten years. He had used every contact Kinsella Illuminations had provided – builders, electricians, quantity surveyors – to claw his way to the top. There was so much building going on, extending the commuter belt, he’d ended up decorating a slew of show houses along the east coast, from Dundalk to Gorey, while she’d handled the lighting design, and as their portfolio grew over the years of the Celtic Tiger, their work had multiplied.
She pulled up behind the BMW and glanced in her mirror and frowned. She certainly looked stressed, she thought, noting the deepening lines around eyes and mouth. She needed to touch up her lipstick. She applied a slick of Mulberry Rose, sprayed some L’Air du Temps on her wrist and got out of the car. A squally gust blew her hair into her eyes and she shivered. It could very well snow, Hilary thought, looking at the leaden sky and the banks of dark clouds that were rolling ominously in from the east.
A young woman with a baby in her arms answered the door. Early twenties, foreign, had to be the au pair rather than the client, Hilary surmised. ‘Ello, madam,’ the young woman said politely. ‘Madam ees expecting you. Let me take your coat and show you upstairs. Zhat ees where zey are now.’
‘Thank you.’ Hilary followed her in to a wide, bright hall, papered in an elegant grey, green and gold stripe above the white dado rail and painted a pale mint green below. Very nice, Hilary thought, admiring the sparkling chandelier and the gleaming bevelled wall mirror that made the hall look even more spacious and light.
The baby smiled a huge toothless grin at her as she followed the au pair up the grey-and-gold-carpeted stairs and Hilary’s heart melted. She had a sudden, overpowering longing to cuddle the baby and feel its soft downy head against her cheek, nestled in against her. Oh for God’s sake! she thought wildly. Haven’t you enough on your plate without getting broody?
‘Ah there you are!’ Jonathan appeared at the top of the stairs immaculately turned out in his D&G ruby shirt, black trousers, and a black-and-ruby scarf knotted casually around his neck. His blond hair was perfectly highlighted and styled and Hilary felt guilty that she hadn’t made more of an effort with her own appearance. She was wearing a taupe trouser suit and black cami and a string of pearls but her indulgences at Christmas and the Millennium New Year celebrations had resulted in her piling on at least half a stone in weight. The waistband of her trousers was digging in to her. Her boobs were stretching the cami, which clung to her spare tyre, and she knew she had a VPL. At least she smelt perfumed, she thought ruefully, catching Jonathan’s gaze at her cleavage. She looked down and saw her glasses and a tissue tucked into her bra and managed to whip them out and shove them in her handbag before a slender young woman in jeans and a lilac cashmere jumper emerged from the bedroom Jonathan had come from. ‘Hi, you must be Hilary.’ She smiled. ‘I’m Andrea Keirns. Thanks for coming—’
‘Terribly sorry I’m late. I got delayed at a clinic with my mother-in-law,’ Hilary explained, hastily shaking hands.
‘No worries, Jonathan and I have had a wonderful time plotting and planning,’ Andrea said gaily, holding her arms out for the baby. ‘Yolanda, will you go and make us coffee, please, and serve it in the library,’ she instructed her au pair.
‘Yes, madam,’ the girl said dutifully, her long black hair swinging behind her from its high ponytail as she hurried downstairs.
‘I adore what you did with Rowena’s house. Her parents are friends of my mother’s,’ Andrea raved. ‘As I was telling Jonathan, this
