Red Letter Day (10 page)

'Art and Design. I wanted to go into the fashion business.'

'Ah, no wonder Rose loves you.'

A shadow crossed Celine's face at the mention of her boss.

'Didn't you? Go into the fashion business, that is?'

Celine shook her head.

'Sorry, you were telling me about Dermot.'

Celine took a deep breath and gazed out of the window. 'He wanted to change the world. He did for some people. He cared so much. I felt guilty that I wasn't bringing any money in but he said that when I left college we'd be rolling in it.' She laughed. 'He was convinced I was going to become Ireland's top fashion designer.'

'Were you?'

Celine's smile was sad. 'I'd have had a damn good try! After he died it didn't matter though. Success would have been meaningless without him to share it with.'

Richard nodded. 'I can understand that.'

'Dermot talked about his work a lot,' she continued. 'He loved to talk about his success stories. Fergus was one. He was only sixteen when they met. Dermot trailed around Dublin looking for him each night. He brought him food, cigarettes, and eventually Fergus opened up to him. When he finally agreed to get help, Dermot was on such a high. He moved heaven and earth to get him into a rehab centre and then when Fergus got out, he found him a job.'

Richard nodded. 'In the homeless shelter.'

Celine nodded. 'Dermot didn't talk as much about him after that. He'd moved on to another lost soul. He still dropped into the centre from time to time to check on Fergus.' She stopped and stared into space.

'I think I know the rest.' Richard took her hand and held it as tears coursed down her cheeks. They sat like that for some time before Celine excused herself and went into the bedroom. When she returned Richard had opened a bottle of wine. 'I thought you could do with a drink. You can drink it alone if you'd prefer.'

Celine shook her head. 'I'd like you to stay.'

Richard smiled and looked around. 'I like what you've done with the place.'

'The new suite makes all the difference. I was going to paint the whole place a nice golden colour.'

'And you've changed your mind?'

'I won't be here.' Celine took a sip of wine.

'There's no reason for you to go.'

'It would be too awkward.'

'Maybe at first, but Rose is a good woman. I'm sure that she thanks God every day that Dermot came in to Fergus's life.'

Celine's smile was bitter. 'And I wish they'd never met. Rose is great but I'm just not sure I could cope with seeing
him
on a regular basis. It would make me physically sick.'

Richard sipped his drink in silence for a moment. 'Rose will probably have to shut the shop so,' he said finally.

Celine rolled her eyes. 'She can easily find someone else.'

'She'd been looking for months before she found you. There isn't time to find anyone else now.'

Celine put down her drink. 'That's not my problem.'

Richard took both her hands in his. 'I hardly know you, Celine, but I don't believe you're the kind of person to let someone down.'

Celine looked up into his eyes. He was sitting so close she could smell his aftershave. He wasn't as tall as Kevin but he was broader and she thought how nice it would be to be folded in those strong arms. How safe it must feel.

He pushed her hair back off her face and Celine closed her eyes. 'I know this is hard for you,' he murmured, but maybe it's an opportunity to put the past behind you.'

Celine's eyes flew open. 'Just like that!'

Richard held her gaze. 'I'm not saying it's easy but I'm sure you're up to the challenge. From what you've told me, Celine, I'd say you've only been living half a life since Dermot died.'

Celine pulled away from him. 'So on the basis of one short conversation not only do you know me, you know what's best for me too!'

Richard smiled. 'Good, aren't I?'

Celine couldn't help smiling. 'You're an interfering do-gooder, that's what you are.'

'I happen to know that you like do-gooders,' he said softly.

Celine turned away. 'I think you should go now.'

'Sure.' He stood up and walked to the door.

'Richard?'

'Yes?' He turned to look at her.

'Do you ever wear anything other than jeans?'

He grinned. 'Only when I have to.'

Fergus was sitting at the bar when Rose arrived. She nodded at the barman and sat down beside her son.

'Are you okay?'

'Sure.'

'I told Richard what happened, I hope you don't mind.'

Fergus shrugged.

'I don't know what to do, Fergus. How are you going to cope with seeing Celine all of the time?'

'It's not an issue, Ma. Now that she knows I'm your son, you won't see her for dust. She thinks that I'm to blame for Dermot's death. She's right too.'

'Don't talk rubbish,' Rose snapped. 'You didn't stab him.'

'No, but that knife was meant for me.'

'Look, love, it happened and there's nothing you can do about it.'

Fergus drained his pint and nodded to the barman for another. 'You're right there, Ma. There's not a damn thing I can do.'

'Not about Dermot,' Rose said slowly, but we can help Celine.'

'I don't follow you.'

'She was training as a fashion designer when Dermot died,' she explained. 'A good one too, from what I gather. This is the first time she's worked with clothes since.'

'So?'

'So maybe we can help her get her life back.'

'No offence, Ma, but you're running a second-hand clothes shop, not a fashion empire.'

Rose scowled and gave him a sharp dig in the ribs. 'I know a lot of important people, I'll have you know. Don't underestimate your mother.'

'Whatever you say, Ma.' He turned to look at her, his eyes sad. 'If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me.'

'For the moment just keep away from the shop, there's a good lad. At least until things settle down.'

Dominic was on the phone when Richard walked into the shop the next morning. He put a hand over the mouthpiece. 'Go on through, I'll be finished in a minute.'

Richard nodded and went into the back room. 'Hey, Fergus, how's it going?'

'Okay,' Fergus muttered as he spooned coffee into two mugs. 'Want one?'

'I'd love one, thanks.' Richard leaned against the counter. 'How are things?'

Fergus glowered at him. 'Oh, fine, never better. Ma told me not to put my nose out of the shop until she gives me the nod, which is great as I'm finished for the day in less than an hour.'

Richard glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just gone eleven. 'That's what I call a half day,' he joked.

'That's what's called going out of business,' Dominic said as he joined them. 'Thanks, Fergus,' he said, taking his mug.

'I'll keep an eye on the shop.' Fergus left them on their own.

'So, business is bad, eh?'

Dominic rubbed his eyes with a weary hand. 'It's going from bad to worse. I think I'd be better off calling it a day.'

Richard's eyes widened. 'That bad?'

Dominic nodded. 'I can't even afford Fergus any more but Rose would be worried sick if I let him go.'

'I might be able to find something for Fergus. I know a guy who's starting up a fitness club across town. I'm sure he'll be looking for help.'

'That would be a load off my mind.'

'I'll have a word,' Richard promised. 'But that doesn't solve all of your problems. Are you really thinking of giving up the newsagent's?'

Dominic shrugged. 'I'm not sure. Maybe I could be a hairdresser!'

Richard laughed. 'Not if you want to make money!' He drained his mug and headed for the door.

'Are you going to buy me a pint later?' Dominic called after him.

'Sure.'

Richard went next door to see Rose. 'How are things?'

She shook her head. 'I don't know. We've been very busy this morning so I haven't had a chance to talk to her.'

'Where is she?'

'In the dressing room with a customer.'

Richard leaned on the counter and looked down at Rose. 'How do you feel about her staying on?'

Rose frowned. 'Fine, I mean, it doesn't change the fact that she's good at the job. Why?'

'I had a chat with her last night,' Richard admitted. 'She was talking about leaving.'

'Oh.'

'I think it's the thought of seeing so much of Fergus. It brings back a lot of bad memories.'

'I do understand that, but what can I do? Fergus will have to drop in occasionally and with him working next door . . .' Rose sighed.

'Leave it with me. Just don't let her go.'

After he was gone, Rose couldn't help wondering why Richard Lawrence was so keen for Celine to stay. Maybe he wasn't the confirmed bachelor she'd thought him to be.

Celine emerged from the fitting room looking slightly flustered. 'Why do most women insist they are a size twelve?'

Rose chuckled. 'They were once. Don't worry. Mrs Warren takes a long time to make up her mind but she usually buys something in the end.'

Celine grabbed two dresses and turned to go back in.

'Celine?'

'Yes?'

'We have to talk. Why don't we go for a drink when we close?'

Celine hesitated for a moment and then nodded. 'Sure.'

Rose closed her eyes briefly and sent up a prayer that she'd be able to persuade Celine to stay. She'd only been here a few days but she'd fitted in immediately. Rose was thrilled at how quickly she learned and how well she handled the customers. It would be such a shame if she left.

At five-thirty sharp, Rose closed up and led Celine down to the pub where she and Fergus had sat the night before. Tonight, she chose a quiet corner.

'What will you have?' she asked Celine as the waitress approached.

Celine shrugged. 'Just a half of lager please.'

'And a white wine for me.' When the girl had left them alone Rose wasted no time in getting to the point. 'Firstly, Celine, I want to apologise.'

Celine looked mildly surprised. 'For what?'

'Blurting everything out to Richard.'

Celine smiled. 'That's okay. I doubt he's the type to gossip.'

'Oh, he isn't!' Rose assured her. 'He tells me you're thinking of leaving.'

'Actually I told him I
was
leaving.'

'Then he must have thought he'd persuaded you to think about it.'

The waiter brought their drinks and Celine waited until he'd walked away before speaking. 'I'm sorry, Rose, I'd like to stay but I honestly don't think I can cope with seeing
him
on a regular basis.'

Rose took a sip of her wine to give herself time to find a reply. It hurt that Celine couldn't even use Fergus's name. 'I'm not going to say I know how you feel, Celine, because I couldn't possibly. It's terrible that you lost your husband at such a young age and it's even worse that he was murdered and died in such a horrific way, but . . .'

Celine's eyes flashed. 'But it wasn't your son's fault, is that what you were going to say?'

Rose held her gaze. 'No, it wasn't. I'm not going to lie to you just to get you to stay, Celine. I realise that Dermot only went there that night to see Fergus but that doesn't mean my son is responsible for his death. All it means is that your husband was a good, kind man who saved my son from drugs and then from a mad drunk.'

Celine stared into her drink. 'Yeah, good old Dermot, he was quite a hero.'

'Yes, he was.' Rose ignored the sarcasm. 'You must miss him.'

Celine stared into the distance. 'You have no idea. He was so vibrant, larger than life. Everyone loved him.'

'Including Fergus.'

Celine drained her glass. 'I've got to go. My dad's dropping over.'

Rose put a hand on her arm. 'Please think about it, Celine. I really want you to stay.'

Celine looked at her, her expression unreadable. 'I'll see you in the morning. Thanks for the drink.'

As Celine walked back to the flat she toyed with the idea of calling her dad and telling him she had to work late but, glancing at her watch, she realised he'd already have left the house. Her thoughts returned to Rose. She really would like to stay but knowing that Fergus could appear in the shop at any time made her shake — physically shake. It reminded her of that terrible year after Dermot died. She had wanted to barricade herself into the house, had been nervous of visitors — even her father — and had been positively terrified on the rare occasion she'd ventured out. She didn't want to end up feeling like that again. This was supposed to be a fresh start, for God's sake. She paused outside her flat and rummaged for the key, her eyes flickering around all the time. When she got inside she quickly closed the door behind her and let out a relieved breath as she climbed the stairs. She went into the bedroom to get changed and then paused as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her father would love to see her dressed up and the olive green suit was lovely. It had come into the shop yesterday and Rose had immediately put it under the counter. When she had produced it with a flourish later in the day, Celine's expert eye had recognised an excellent piece of tailoring. It was a designer she hadn't heard of but she would be on the look-out for more of his clothes. Celine had resolved to buy the Irish fashion magazines from now on and make regular visits to Brown Thomas. She was obviously out of touch.

She went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, combed her hair and touched up her makeup. When she was finished she studied herself closely. No amount of makeup could disguise the pain in her eyes. Would her father notice? He wasn't due to arrive for at least another ten minutes so before she could change her mind, Celine went out to the phone and dialled the number from memory.

'Kevin Gilligan.'

'Kevin, it's me.'

'Hi, good to hear from you. I'm a bit tied up at the moment, can I call you back later?'

With the wife, Celine surmised. 'I'm at the flat, have you got a pen?'

'Yeah, go ahead.'

Celine reeled off her new phone number.

'Great, I'll talk to you then, Harry. Thanks for calling.'

Celine put down the phone, her guilty feelings warring with the need to escape reality. She'd hardly thought of Kevin in the last few days, but now, emotional and frightened, she longed to be in his arms. When he made love to her she could forget about everyone and everything for a while. Her father would be disgusted if he knew but there was no reason for him to find out. She would finish with Kevin, she promised herself, but not just yet. She needed him now more than ever. Celine paced the floor and checked her watch. Where had her dad got to?