Are You Ready? (18 page)

‘But we can't, Mum is cooking dinner for us at
home, and we've so much to discuss, what with the marquee guy coming next week. We also need to start talking about the food with Molly.'

Robin looked annoyed, but said nothing, and just settled back into his chair as they started talking about ‘Fertility Awareness'. He could see every guy in the room go red. What I wouldn't do for a pint! he thought. And he opened his booklet and squeamishly started answering questions on babies.

The course was over by nine thirty, and Robin and Ali headed back to Ali's parent's house. Ali was delighted to be home for a few days, it was so hard to do wedding things without her mum and sisters.

‘Work is just getting in the way of my life, Mum,' she had declared the other day. Her mum had laughed, and said they would have plenty of time to discuss every little detail at the weekend, so the minute Ali arrived in from the course they started. Robin had barely taken his jacket off when Ali, her mum and sisters began discussing church music, desserts, first dance songs, and hair options. The dinner of steak, onions and potato gratin was yum, and he did like spending time with Ali's family, but this was all too much: an evening cooped up in a community centre talking about fertility and marital arguments, followed by hours of discussion about hair, dresses and marquee options.

Ali's dad could see that Robin was getting all hot and bothered, so the second the meal was over, he stood up and said: ‘I am in dire need of a pint, and I'm taking Robin with me for company.'

Ali began to protest that they had to talk about flower arrangements, when her dad spoke again.

‘Ali, pet, I'm sure you are clever enough to work that out on your own,' he said. And before she could reply, himself and Robin were walking down the long driveway and making their way to O'Reillys for some Guinness.

‘Thanks,' Robin said.

‘Robin, I don't know how you listen to that nonsense all day long, Ali must be driving you mad! I'm spending so much time out with the cows at the moment that I might as well move in with them, but I'd rather do that than be with those wedding-crazy women.'

Robin laughed, and, after a few well-earned pints, relaxed and began to enjoy listening to Ali's dad tell him stories about Ali when she was young.

Later, as they walked home, Ali's father stopped and turned to Robin. ‘Robin, as much as Ali is driving us all a little crazy, she is a princess to me, an angel, and I would do anything for her. I know you would, too, and that's why I'm so happy you are going to be her husband. And if you would let me offer you two pieces of advice for a happy marriage then I'll leave all the rest of the wedding talk to the women.'

‘Of course,' Robin said, suddenly sobering up.

‘OK, the first is never sleep on an argument. And the second is: just realize that the woman is the head of the house, and runs it. If you can resign yourself to the fact that she will always be the boss you will save yourself a lot of arguments and stress.' And with
that Ali's dad entered the house, and bid Robin good night.

When Robin got upstairs, he found Ali awake and reading a wedding magazine, looking stressed. He hugged her.

‘I'm sorry I wasn't interested in the course tonight, Ali. I promise tomorrow I'll try harder.'

Ali looked surprised, she had been ready to have a fight with him over his lack of enthusiasm.

‘OK, but we still need to discuss flower arrangements.'

Robin smiled. ‘You're the boss, Ali, whatever you say goes.'

Ali was delighted, and started showing him pictures of what she wanted to get, and as Robin nodded off he silently thanked God for the weekend away and the marriage tips he had learnt. You were never too old for good advice, he thought, as he fell asleep to the sound of Ali talking about roses, lilies and daisies.

Ben was outside the hospital getting some fresh air, when Peter Jones, the fifty-year-old accountant who worked with his dad, came walking towards him. Peter was second in command at Joe O'Connor's accountancy firm, and was a dedicated man who enjoyed ensuring client accounts were in order, and that everything in O'Connor & Son ran smoothly. He had been a huge help, and run the whole business since Joe's heart-attack.

‘Ben, how is he? I didn't want to visit him too early, but I had to make sure he was OK.'

Ben sighed. ‘He's still not great, Peter. Dad has a long way to go before he is back to his old self.'

Peter sat down on one of the benches outside the hospital doors, his face serious, his hand smoothing the balding crown of his head.

‘Well, then, we are going to have to talk, Ben. I can't run the whole company on my own. I'm swamped. I know we've two junior staff, but that is all they are –
junior. I'm always overworked and now I've your father's clients as well. I can't do it long-term. I would do anything for your dad, but I do not want to run his beloved business into the ground.'

Ben didn't know what to say. Peter spoke again. ‘You know, Ben, all your father ever wanted was for you to come and work side by side with him. Now is your chance. You are trained, you know how accountancy firms work. You could do this, help us out. Help your dad out.'

Ben was stunned. Did Peter expect him to drop his own job and life for a step backwards, back into accountancy, which he had tried and hated years ago?

‘I can't do it, Peter. It's been years, and my heart is not in it. You could hire someone temporary. I'll help you find someone.'

Peter's whole mood seemed to change. ‘Ben, you don't understand. This company is your family's business: your dad worked long and hard for years to build it up, to support you all. Taking over is the least you can do.'

Ben knew that Peter was talking sense, but still, as much as he wanted to make his father proud, the thought of working in a stuffy accountancy firm again made him feel trapped. But before he could speak again, Peter had got up and was making his way towards the hospital.

Just before he got there he turned back and said: ‘I have to attend my niece's wedding in England later this week, and I can't get out of it. I'll need you to start
straight away, so I can show you the ropes before I head off. So I'll see you tomorrow at 9 a.m.' And with that he was gone.

Ben was still in shock when he finally went back in to check on his dad later. His mum came up and gave him a big hug.

‘Peter told us you are going to help out with the firm, Ben. That is great news. It will be great to have you finally working with your father—'

Ben interrupted her. ‘Mum, it is only for a few days, until I can find someone to help Peter out. I just rang Jeremy and explained the situation, but told him that this time next week, I'll be back working on the paper as a reporter.'

His mum looked disappointed, but said nothing. Joe stared at Ben, and finally managed to whisper a sentence: ‘I trust you, son. I know you will do your best.'

And what could Ben say to that? He headed off home to get his old suit out, and iron a shirt. He hadn't worn a suit in a long time.

The next morning Ben actually felt nervous. Even though it was his dad's firm, he had never worked there full-time. He had helped out a bit during college, but never been a permanent fixture. He didn't know what the staff would think of him. They probably hate me, he thought. Hate me for making my dad work so long and hard, while I swanned around in different jobs, and they are right, I'm useless. As he approached
the front steps of the old Georgian building he was reminded about Joe's good eye for property. Even though Joe had had to borrow a lot of money when he first bought this office, he had just known the building would always be worth something, and he had been right. The accountancy office only used two floors, and they rented the top floor to a small public-relations firm.

Ben let himself in with his father's keys. He was early, so the office was quiet. Ben looked around, he hadn't been here for months. There were all the usual signs of activity – files, teacups, and faxes everywhere – but the furniture and art revealed Joe's impeccable taste. The furniture was all heavy old mahogany chairs and tables, while the walls were covered in some beautiful Markey Robinson and Evie Hone pieces.

‘You can't expect a client to be impressed by a small firm, unless it not only looks the business, but can back that up with good and loyal work,' Joe always used to say. And Ben had to agree, the firm not only did a terrific job, but looked great. He walked up to the first floor, where his father's office was. It had a lovely view of the nearby park, and like the rest of the place, had some beautiful paintings. As Ben sat in the large leather chair, he saw that his father had put even more family photos around his desk and wall. There was one of Ben as a small boy, playing on a beach, others of family holidays, and a beautiful one of Ben's parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, but the one Ben had never really noticed before was of his college
graduation. He and his father were standing next to each other, with Ben holding his degree in front of him. Ben remembered that day so well, the relief at passing college, and yet the anxiety about entering the real world. His father had talked all day about how exciting it would be when they finally worked side by side. As Ben laid down the photo he realized that his father's dream had not only never happened, but probably never would either. How could Joe ever go back to work? Ben worried.

Just then Peter came in. ‘It is great to see you, Ben, sitting where Joe normally does. It restores some balance to the office. Now, let me show you around. I am sure there have been some changes since your college days.' And with that Peter started filling Ben in on the work that had been done, and the work that still needed attention.

‘We have some important meetings this week, Ben. I hope you are up to them.' Peter sounded as if he was issuing an order.

The day flew by, with Ben swamped by all the work he was supposed to do. He didn't even have time for lunch, and when Joe's secretary, Nora, asked if he wanted her to grab him a sandwich and coffee he jumped at the offer. As she handed him the sandwich, she asked after Joe and Maura. Ben filled her in, and also tried to get information out of her about clients, meetings and future projects.

‘Don't worry, Ben,' she said. ‘Your dad always hoped that one day you would walk through that door and begin working here, and he knew you would be very
capable when you did. He had great faith in you, Ben. You just need to have some in yourself.' With that she was gone, leaving Ben to deal with a torrent of phone calls, faxes and emails. It was going to be a long week, he thought.

It was six o'clock in the morning, and Molly was wide awake and up baking biscuits in the shape of baby rattles and shoes. Why did I try to be different? No one will care what shape these are, Molly cursed to herself. This week had been a busy one at work, and she had spent almost every night getting prepared for the christening. As she was still getting used to this catering business, she was nervous and excited at the same time. Her mum had helped her prepare some things the day before, but it was Molly's cousin Eve who was going to help her serve the dishes today in Mel's house. Sarah had given her a spare key, so that Molly and Eve could set themselves up while everyone else was at the church. Sarah herself had been so excited all week at the thought of officially becoming baby Fiona's godmother. Molly was delighted for her friend, but had been very distracted with work and worries over Luke.

They had barely spoken since he had stormed out after their last fight, and then at the start of last week
he had told her that he would be away for a few days on business. Luke normally tried to get out of having to go away for work, so she thought he must be trying to avoid her. He'd told her he was going to Cork for work, and intended to head straight on from there to Brittas Bay for the weekend with their friends.

After a few hours of sweating, frying, boiling and baking, Molly jumped into the shower, as she wanted to change before Eve arrived and they prepared the rest of the food. As she dried her long dark hair in the bedroom she was surprised to see Luke walk through the door.

‘You're back early,' she said, as he laid down his bag. He looked tired and pale.

‘I know, I was just wrecked and couldn't sleep and decided to head home. I thought you would be gone by now.'

‘Well, sorry to disappoint you, but don't worry I'll be gone soon, and then you can go back to ignoring me and our rotten relationship.' Molly was about to walk out the door when Luke gently took hold of her arm.

‘Sorry, Molly, I didn't mean it to sound like that, I'm just tired. Sorry, but I need to talk to you, and maybe now is as good as any time.'

Molly sat on the bed, and Luke sat on the old restored chair they had bought for a bargain, and that they had intended to display. It was now covered with clothes, underwear and Luke's jacket.

‘Molly, I love you. I know you don't think I do any more, but I do. I thought that you changing jobs
would be the best thing for you and our relationship, too. But the last few months have been awful. I just can't help feeling jealous of the time you want to spend with food, ovens, clients and menus rather than with me.'

Molly went to interrupt him, but Luke put his hand up.

‘Please, Molly, let me finish. I've been thinking about this all week. I don't know how we can change things. I'm sorry, but I can't see a solution. I just can't. And I don't think I can do this any more. I don't want to be with you – not at the moment anyway. I'm not happy.'

Molly felt as if her heart was stopping. She couldn't breathe, she was suffocating. As she stood up to get some air, she looked at Luke. His head was in his hands.

‘I'm sorry, Molly.'

Molly was in shock. She felt she would never be able to speak again and a million thoughts went through her head. This can't be happening, she almost whispered. Eventually she managed to say something.