‘Way to go, m’dear!’ Jonathan approved. ‘We all need to have our diva days now and again. And to have a diva day and a duvet day. Double whammy. No wonder they didn’t know what hit them.’
‘And I was a right diva, I can tell you. You should have seen Sophie giving me the wary eye every so often when I was dishing up the pizza and salads. I don’t know what she thought I was going to do but she couldn’t have been more helpful, making sure everyone had enough and tidying up afterwards. The group she hangs around with are grand kids so they all mucked in anyway. And then I disappeared and left them to it.’
‘And what did Niall have to say?’ Jonathan indicated and overtook a juggernaut, enjoying the turbo dart of speed for the manoeuvre.
‘He’s annoyed with me. Who wants to be nagged on their weekend off? But shag it, Jonathan, I need more help than I’m getting. I’m struggling,’ she sighed. ‘I need to get another cleaner because the house is on the slide and I don’t have the time to do it. I’ve booked to get the minis in later this week to blitz the place.’
‘Good thinking. I do that every so often. It’s a gift.’
‘It’s Niall’s attitude that really bugs me,’ Hilary grumbled. ‘He actually asked why didn’t I give up work.’
‘You’re joking!’ Jonathan looked across at her, shocked.
‘I’m not. He said there was no need for me to work, and fine, there isn’t. He’s got a great job and salary and we could well manage on it, but I know he just wants me to be there minding the house, bringing his mother to her clinics – and don’t get me wrong, I’m very fond of her, you know that – because it would all be so convenient for him. And this all because I blew my top.’
‘I can understand why you’re finding the juggling hard. It would be beyond me. When you add elderly parents into the mix it’s such an increased pressure. I just have Mam to think about, and my sisters are great for keeping an eye on her, but you have your own mam and dad and your mother-in-law. That’s not easy. Did he ring Smokin’ Sue?’
‘He left a message!’
‘And did she get back to him?’
‘What do you think?’ Hilary said drily. ‘She won’t get back. I know her. And knowing him he won’t ring again unless I nag him. It’s doing my head in,’ she groaned.
‘Umm . . . that’s not very proactive. I don’t know if you think this is good news or not so.’ He glanced across at her, an eyebrow raised.
‘What?’ she asked warily.
‘Gina Grant’s secretary phoned me. Gina and Shaun would like to meet us with a view to having a bespoke spa installed in their house, or rather mansion . . .’ he corrected himself.
‘The Grants? The Grant Insurance Grants? Gina Grant the Charity Queen?’
‘The very ones,’ Jonathan said smugly.
‘He’s a multi-multimillionaire. He has his own helicopter.’
‘He is and he has . . . and . . . he want us to design his own personal spa!’
‘Imagine being rich enough to have your own spa! I couldn’t think of anything nicer than being able to have a facial or a massage whenever you wanted.’ She sighed wistfully.
‘Me neither. The luxury of it. So are you up for it? It will just be something on a smaller scale than what we’ve done with the hotels.’
‘Of course I’m up for it. Niall will just have to get over himself,’ Hilary declared. ‘This is too good an opportunity to miss. I wonder where did Gina hear about us?’
‘I think she’s related by marriage to Cecily Porter, who owns Horizon House. So we must have got a good report. You can’t beat word of mouth.’
‘It’s great, isn’t it? And all because we did a random lighting design course together. Imagine that was ten years ago!’
‘I have the grey hairs to prove it,’ Jonathan teased. ‘Now you know we’ll have to charge them an arm and a leg.’
‘Why? We haven’t even been on site yet. We don’t know what it’s going to cost.’ She looked at him, surprised.
‘That’s immaterial. If we don’t go high they won’t feel they’ve got something special. The more they spend, the more they can boast about it. That’s the way it works in that clique. Don’t let the Joneses keep up with you, whatever you do. Now they’ll have their own inhouse spa and a helicopter and a fleet of expensive cars and, and, and . . .’ Jonathan explained patiently.
‘It’s all a bit mad really, isn’t it? I wouldn’t like that type of lifestyle and all that goes with it. I’m happy enough with my attic conversion,’ Hilary chuckled.
‘Not just any old attic conversion . . . A Harpur-designed attic conversion,’ Jonathan reminded her as they drove across the bridge over the Avoca River at Ferrybank and into Arklow Town. ‘The river looks choppy and high,’ he observed, watching the waves whack angrily against the quays,
