Hilary turned and walked out to the front door, relieved that her sister-in-law didn’t follow her. She was glad she had kept her temper. It was clear Sue felt very irked with Margaret. Their issues were between them and something she didn’t want to get involved in.
Hilary got into her car and turned on the ignition as she mulled over their conversation. At one level she could understand her sister-in-law’s exasperation. Not having children was her choice, even if Margaret and others didn’t approve. And it must be grating for Sue, she conceded, having Hilary and the girls shoved down her neck, but still, there was no need for the other woman to have dragged Hilary into her problems with her mother. Families could have such lethal undercurrents. You could choose your spouse, but the in-laws that came with them could be a blessing or a bane.
Her trip to London with her daughters had given Hilary food for thought. She had come to a decision that would impact on all their lives. She was going to cut back on her work and employ someone, part-time, to work on the lighting design aspect of the business. She would finish up the projects she had ongoing with Jonathan but after they were done and dusted she would be more picky.
Hilary felt a burden lift from her shoulders as she drove away from Sue’s elegant townhouse. For the last few years she’d felt pulled in all directions. Now it was time to step back. Business was booming, she could offer employment to someone else and still be involved, have time for her family, Margaret, and most importantly, herself. She had thoroughly enjoyed the few days in London with the girls. It was time to get off the hamster wheel for a while and start living again. Feminists would probably accuse her of wimping out. Sue certainly would, Hilary thought ruefully, driving along Wellington Road and admiring the large, stylish houses that lined the street. Other women might be adept at constantly juggling all the facets of their busy lives. She had reached her limit and if that made her a failure in other women’s eyes so be it, she could live with it. The Celtic Tiger could roar away; she was getting off its back for a while and having made her decision all she felt was relief.
The traffic lights turned red at Haddington Road and she scrolled for Jonathan’s number on her hands-free. She wanted to tell him of her showdown with Sue and of the decision she’d made. It rang out and went into his message minder and she left him a brief message. Jonathan would support her whatever she did, she knew with certainty, and she knew Niall would be more than pleased.
Was cutting back on work a sacrifice on her part? Hilary pondered, watching two women jog effortlessly along the tree-lined street. At least she was lucky enough to have the choice. Plenty of women had no choice. With the massive size of mortgage repayments many women would be working for a long time, whether they wanted to work outside the home or not. Thank God she’d insisted on paying off their mortgage when the money had started rolling in. The investment adviser in the bank had not been in favour of that step, wanting instead for Hilary to keep paying off the mortgage and use her new income to invest in stocks and shares. She had declined. She was ‘too cautious’, he’d said pompously. Cautious and a failure as a career woman, that was her! Hilary grinned, whizzing down Bath Avenue. She could live with that.
‘Get dressed, we’re going out. You know we have an important consult today.’ Hilary stood at Jonathan’s bedroom door scowling.
‘I don’t want to go,’ he groaned. ‘Make an excuse for me.’ He was lounging against his pillows watching morning TV.
‘I will not!’ she retorted, pulling open the long drapes that covered the sliding doors to the wraparound deck outside Jonathan’s bedroom. ‘What are you watching that horrible little Gollum for? He’s obnoxious, stirring up shit between people.’ She stood with her hands on her hips at the end of his bed, glaring at the TV screen where a presenter was shouting at a woman for sleeping with her neighbour, while the downtrodden husband looked mortified.
‘I don’t usually watch him. I don’t even like him,’ Jonathan said, shamefaced, switching off the TV with the remote. ‘It just shows how low I am at the moment.’
‘Sinking to a new low, you mean.’ Hilary showed no mercy. ‘And you pong. Go have a shower while I air this bedroom and tidy up the sitting room. You’re a disgrace, Harpur, and I’m not standing for it any more. You’ve had three weeks to have your nervous breakdown. Now go and see Hannah and deal with it because I’m sick of it.’
‘No one asked you to come,’ he said sulkily.
‘Eh . . . we have a business, remember? We have an appointment with Gina Grant in an hour and a half, buster, so get UP!’
‘Oh crap! Is that today?’ Jonathan exclaimed in dismay.
‘Yes!’
‘Sorry, Hil, it went out of my head. I won’t be long.’ He leapt out of the bed and hurried into the wet room adjoining his bedroom. Hilary was relieved when she heard the sound of the power shower gushing water. She threw empty cereal and yogurt cartons into a waste bin, pulled the sheets and pillowcases off the bed and rolled them into a ball for washing. A salty breeze blew in through the sliding doors. An easterly was blowing in from the Irish Sea along the Liffey below. The
