Two For Joy (24 page)

‘I sure am. I don't know why I stayed away so long. I saw the sun rise over the lake this morning and felt sorry for all those poor sods in Dublin where all you can see are rooftops and houses and more houses. I can see the far end of the lake from my bedroom window here. It's great, isn't it?' She was bubbling with excitement and happiness.

‘So you didn't want to be a city slicker then?' Oliver glanced at Neil, who was gazing with pride down at his forecourt filled with gleaming cars.

‘It's not me, Oliver. I'm a country girl at heart,' Heather said merrily.

‘And a hard taskmaster!' Neil interjected teasingly. ‘I have to fill out my cheque stubs or it's like the Spanish Inquisition if I don't!'

‘Those blinking things. I know what you mean. I get that from Marie in the office.' Oliver threw his eyes up to heaven. ‘Well, if you're both happy enough, I'd better get a move on. A very Happy Christmas to you both and the best of luck here, Heather. If you have any problems let me know.'

‘I will, Oliver, and thanks very, very much. I love it.' Impulsively she leaned up and gave him a hug, and laughed when he blushed. He gave a bashful grin and hurried down the stairs but turned and gave her a wave when he reached the front door.

‘He's shy behind it all, isn't he?' Heather remarked in amusement as she went back into the sitting-room.

‘I suppose he is if you say so, but he's a damn good builder,' Neil declared as he gazed around at his latest investment. ‘This adds fifty thou or more on to the value of the place. I like those curtains,' he added. ‘You've a good eye for colour.'

‘Well, thank you.' Heather grinned, forgetting all about Oliver as she looked around at her new domain. The sitting-room, which overlooked the forecourt and the treetops that opened out on to the lake across the road, was a rectangular room that she'd had painted in a shade of warm, creamy yellow. A maple floor gleamed in the wintry sun. She'd buy some nice rugs to cover it in the January sales. Her mother had made the lilac curtains and matching cushion-covers to go on the oatmeal three-piece that was a Christmas and moving-in present from her parents. The small, circular, smoked glass dining-table and chairs were a present from Ruth. There wasn't a fireplace in the room so she'd got an electric coal-effect fire that was quite realistic. It gave a nice focal point to the room. Neil had given her a small portable TV and video on its own unit, much to her delight. She had a pine nest of tables to serve coffee on, and some bookshelves on the wall opposite the window. Any more furniture would have made the room look cluttered.

It was new and clean and smelt of fresh paint, light-years away from the shabby flat in Drumcondra. Heather thought she had died and gone to heaven. She was as happy as a lark!

Giving in her notice at Brooke, Byrne & O'Connell had been one of the best days of her life. It was a gloomy, chilly Monday morning following her delightful weekend at home, and her boss glared at her as she came into work five minutes late and fished in her bag for her letter of resignation, typed up on Neil's computer the night before. Edith Palmer nearly had a seizure when Heather placed the letter on the desk in front of her and said cheerfully, ‘I'm resigning.'

‘But you can't go,' her boss protested. ‘We're dreadfully short-staffed and January can be quite busy for us.'

‘Sorry, Edith, and don't forget that I have leave accrued so I'll be taking that.' Heather stuck the knife in deeper, enjoying her boss's discomfiture.

‘But that means you'll be gone two weeks before Christmas. That's just not on, I'm afraid. Tommy Walsh has applied for leave, he's going to New York. You'll just have to wait until after Christmas and that's the end of it!' Edith said bossily.

‘I think not, Edith!' The cheek of her boss, trying to bully her into staying and talking to her as if she were a child. Just who did she think she was? Neil's job offer couldn't have come at a better time. Heather was thoroughly sick of Miss Superiority with her patronizing attitude. ‘I have a challenging job, with lots of responsibility and a big wage increase to boot, waiting for me. I don't care to wait any longer. That's my letter of resignation effective from this date,' Heather said coolly, enjoying her new sense of power
immensely!
She'd often daydreamed about resigning, as indeed did most of the rest of the staff in the office, but even in her wildest dreams it hadn't felt as good and as deeply satisfying as the real thing. And even better, Tommy Walsh had confided that he wasn't coming back from New York so Edith and Brooke, Byrne & O'Connell were going to be rightly up the Swanee in January.

‘But what about your loyalty to the company?' Edith demanded, staring in disdain at the white envelope Heather had placed on her desk. Heather laughed heartily at the notion. Loyalty to the company indeed! Was Edith for real?

‘It's no laughing matter,' Edith said icily.

‘Oh Edith, get a life,' Heather retorted as she turned and made her way to the vending machine for a much needed cup of coffee.

Because of her leave she only had to work out a week of her notice and the following Friday found her sitting in the family station-wagon at four thirty, having left the office early, surrounded by black plastic sacks containing all her clothes and bits and pieces. Her mother had driven from home to collect her from Ruth's and as they drove past Phibsboro, northwards to freedom, Heather felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She'd done city life, had a bit of fun, seen a bit of life, but all in all, hadn't greatly enjoyed it. Now she was going home to get a life for herself, just as she'd urged Edith Palmer to.

Maybe she was running away. Lorna would definitely view her return to Kilronan in that light. She didn't care. City life wasn't for her, she admitted, as the car in front made an illegal right turn at Whitworth Road, causing her mother to swear loudly and jam on the brakes. She wouldn't miss city gridlock in the slightest, she thought happily, as they resumed their forward motion but stopped again a minute later, blocked by a car parked on double yellows.

Her first week working for Neil had been a bit daunting, to say the least. Excellent as he might be at selling cars, his paperwork and accountancy were a shambles. Folders, stacks of demands and receipts from the Revenue, paperwork for his car sales, were strewn higgledy piggledy on a large desk in the back office. He also had a small office reception area where he dealt with new customers. That at least was presentable, she noted. His computer desktop was a disaster!

‘I want a computer of my own, with Microsoft Office First Run and Excel,' Heather announced as Neil stood sheepishly amid the detritus of his paperwork. ‘And I want a four-drawer filing cabinet for the time being, until you expand even more.' She flashed him a grin. ‘Actually there's an office supplier's in Drumcondra, Lawlors, they have a good catalogue. I'll get them to send us one and we can go through it for our office supplies. You could do with having some headed notepaper and “With compliments” slips. I'll get that organized too.'

Neil enveloped her in an unexpected bearhug. ‘This is brilliant, Heather. You're just what I need.' He waved a hand expansively around the office. ‘This is your domain. Do what you want. I won't be interfering. I'll be out selling cars. You can look after the wages, I'll explain the way it works—'

‘I hope everything's above board,' she said sternly, snuggling in to him.

‘Oh, it is,' he assured her. ‘All PRSI and the rest is paid. It's too risky not to.'

‘Right, get out of here and let me try to put some sort of manners on the place,' she ordered.

‘OK,' he agreed, smiling at her. She smiled back and then before she realized what was happening he started to kiss her and it was as though they'd never been parted.

‘Go on, get out of here,' she whispered, breathlessly, red-cheeked, as she heard one of the mechanics call Neil's name.

‘Let's go out for a meal to celebrate.' Neil kissed her again.

‘OK, OK, go on,' she giggled, pushing him away. And smiled to herself for at least twenty minutes before the full reality of his total disorganization took the smirk off her face as she settled down to some serious sorting.

By the time Christmas Eve arrived she had the office organized to her liking, and a system set in place that suited the needs of the business. She was working hard, but it was enjoyable, knowing that this side of the business was her responsibility and that Neil was happy for it to be so. She also acted as receptionist and telephonist so her day was varied, dealing with customers, suppliers and inquiries as well as her paperwork. She had never been so happy in her life, especially when the flat really began to take shape.

She'd bought more curtain material with her mother and Anne had spent hours at the sewing machine working away, delighted that one of her darlings was back home in Kilronan. Her mother had cleaned the place with her from top to bottom to remove the builder's dust and as the four-roomed apartment became more homely, and she saw the happiness in her daughter's eyes, she stopped fretting about the fact that Heather was not going to live at home. It was a huge relief to Heather that her mother wasn't kicking up a fuss, it made her return to Kilronan much easier all round.

When Oliver had called in on Christmas Eve to make sure that she and Neil were happy with the finished product, Heather was practically dancing on air. This truly was going to be the happiest Christmas of her life, she thought, as she stood at the bedroom door and looked into her new room. A double bed, dressed in a lightly quilted white and lilac coverlet that matched the curtain material, dominated the room. Two pine bedside lockers and a pine wardrobe and dressing-table unit completed the simple furnishings, but she was enthralled with it. The walls were painted white with a hint of pink. It was a warm, south-facing room from which she could see the lake in the distance. Across the landing a small galley kitchen looked on to the fields behind Neil's garage. A nice view to watch the changing seasons when she was cooking. Beside the kitchen a tiled bathroom with a walk-in shower unit completed her living arrangements.

She felt she was living in a palace.

‘Like it?' Neil asked, slipping his arms around her.

‘I love it,' she assured him. ‘You know what I think we should do?' she added, staring him steadily in the eye.

‘What?'

‘After we've christened the bed, I think we should put up a Christmas tree.' A blush crept up her cheeks at her forwardness.

His jaw dropped. ‘Do you mean it?'

‘If you want to,' she said shyly. ‘I've never done it before though, so I mightn't be very good at it.'

‘Don't be silly,' he said tenderly, kissing her nose. ‘I bet you'll be brilliant at it. Come on, let's give it a try.' He linked his arm into hers and they walked over to the bed.

‘I'm not a twig,' she said doubtfully as he started to unzip her fleece.

‘That makes two of us,' he laughed as he slipped his hands under her top and expertly unhooked her bra. His fingers started to caress her, sending delightful quivers careering all over her, and she forgot about not being a perfect size ten as she began to eagerly open the buttons of his shirt, suddenly as eager to make love as he was.

Later as she lay drowsily in the curve of his arm she smiled up at him. ‘Did you enjoy it?' he asked lazily.

‘Yessss,' she murmured. ‘It was lovely. I just feel
soooo
relaxed. Poor Lorna, the first time she did it with Derek Kennedy was a real let down, she was in bits after it and said it was a disaster.'

‘Now why does that not surprise me?' Neil remarked. She gave him a little puck in the ribs.

‘Don't be like that,' she chided.

‘Nothing would ever be right for the likes of her,' Neil observed perceptively. He turned to her and kissed her. ‘What are we talking about
her
for when we can do this?' he murmured, cupping her breast in his hand.

It was late into the afternoon before they finally went off, hand in hand, in search of a last-minute Christmas tree. The two happiest people in Kilronan.

19

Noreen shivered and tucked her chin deeper into her scarf as she walked with Oliver towards St Joseph's church for midnight Mass. It was a cold, frosty, starlit night and a full flaxen moon seemed to sit on the point of the spire casting an ethereal glow over the church grounds. Neighbours and acquaintances called white-breathed seasonal greetings as the Mass-goers streamed towards the great teak doors, festooned with wreaths of red-berried holly. It was a beautiful night, and normally Noreen would have enjoyed the Christmas atmosphere and joined in the carol singing with gusto. Last year she'd been very happy going to midnight Mass. Her first as a married woman. She'd felt serene, contented, and very optimistic. Now she had to make a conscious effort to try to stem the tide of resentment, anger, disappointment and unhappiness that constantly threatened to engulf her.

She cast a sideways glance at her husband's profile. Jaw set, firm mouth drawn down, he looked as miserable as she felt. She sighed deeply as they crunched their way up frosty, pine-cone-filled steps. There had been a strain between them since the night she'd asked him to go for tests. After his explosive reaction to her suggestion, she hadn't expected him to arrive home within the hour or expected him to say grimly, ‘I'll go for those tests if you want me to, just tell me what you want me to do.'

As matter-of-factly as she could, she'd explained that he'd have to go to a maternity hospital to give a semen sample to test his sperm count. She'd get a letter of referral from Doctor Kennedy.

‘I don't want him knowing my business, I'll go to someone else,' he said brusquely and that was the end of the conversation.