A Time for Friends (55 page)

‘Thanks for coming over for Mom. That was a kind thing to do. How’s Sophie and Millie?’ Jazzy perched on a high stool at the kitchen counter, casually elegant in jeans and a
black-cashmere polo. Big silver hoop earrings her only jewellery. She had inherited her mother’s sense of style, Hilary observed.

‘They’re good. Both working, as you know. Which is great because the job situation at home is getting pretty bad. Lots of people being made redundant.’

‘Sophie and I Skype every so often. It’s a great way of keeping in touch.’

‘I’ll be able to Skype you when I’m in London,’ Colette interjected, handing her daughter a Kir royale.

‘Thanks. Mom, Dad said you were going to London for Christmas, and that we won’t be going skiing in Aspen because he’s lost money with Bernie Madoff. Is he just doing a Dad on
it and exaggerating?’ she said plaintively.

‘I’m going to London. I don’t know what your dad plans to do. And I don’t think he’s exaggerating. I don’t know exactly how much of our money he’s lost
in his investments. But it’s a lot. I don’t even know if he’ll be able to keep up the rent here. I would imagine not,’ Colette said grimly.

‘Jeez, is it that bad? What about my allowance?’ Jazzy’s blue eyes widened in dismay.

‘Look, until your dad has had his op and gets to meet our wealth manager, I don’t know what the situation is. I’m going to divorce him, that’s a given. It’s over
between us. But I don’t know how much of a settlement I can expect. Once I’m settled in London and see how I’m fixed financially I can sort out an allowance for you. Until then,
if I were you, I would cut down on my spending,’ advised her mother.

‘What do you mean,
settled
in London?’ Jazzy asked, perplexed.

‘I’m leaving New York. I can’t stay here. I’d love it if you wanted to come too but you have to make up your own mind and do what’s best for you,’ Colette
said firmly.

‘Leaving? For good? And what about Dad?’ she demanded, appalled.

‘Look, should I give you both some privacy?’ Hilary said awkwardly, getting up off her stool.

‘No, you’re fine,’ Jasmine said miserably and Hilary’s heart went out to her.

‘Dad might want to be with that woman. Did you ever think of that?’ Colette carried a platter of antipasti to the table. ‘Sweetie, bring the hummus and pitta bread to the table
with you.’

‘Don’t you
mind
, Mom?’ Jasmine couldn’t hide her shock as she brought the food to the table.

‘Whether I do or not, what’s done is done. Your dad didn’t think about us when he did what he did. I have to look to the future and start afresh. That’s the only way I
can deal with it, Jazzy. If I stay here I’ll go to pieces and I won’t allow myself to do that. So please, I beg you, don’t make this any harder for me than what it is already. Now
sit and eat with us and then, if Hilary wants to, she can go with you to see your dad.’

‘OK,’ her daughter muttered, struggling not to cry.

‘Jazzy, it’s not the end of the world. This too will pass and good times, different times will come again. Enjoy your life with Jackson—’

‘He might leave me now that we’re not rich any more,’ she blurted tearfully.

‘Well if he does he’s not the man I think he is and he’s not worthy of you, isn’t that right, Hilary?’ Colette reached across the table and squeezed her
daughter’s hand.

‘Indeed it is. Look at you, Jazzy, a gorgeous young woman making a life for yourself in this fantastic city. As they say at home, “What’s for you won’t pass you
by.” If your boyfriend
is
the right one for you, terrific. If he’s not, the right one will come.’

And pigs will fly,
thought Colette cynically at the notion of a ‘right one’. She said nothing. There was no point in making her daughter feel any more distressed than she
already was.

‘Sorry to see you under the weather, Des,’ Hilary said awkwardly, deciding against kissing him and handing him the box of chocolates and the latest John Connolly
thriller she had brought for him.

‘Hey! That’s kind of you. I didn’t expect to see you, Hilary,’ he said, abashed, hardly able to look her in the eye. He clicked off the TV and smiled at his daughter.
‘Hi, Jazzy. Thanks for coming in and bringing Hilary with you.’

‘Hi, Dad,’ Jazzy said glumly.

‘Just wanted to wish you well with your op,’ Hilary said, feeling sorry for him in spite of herself. He looked red-eyed, red-nosed, pale and stressed lying back against his pillows,
a far cry from the brash, supremely confident know-all she was used to seeing. He looked somehow diminished in his maroon pyjamas, with his drip and monitors attached to him.

‘So how are all the folks at home? How’s business?’ He made an effort.

‘Everyone’s good at the minute, touch wood,’ she said lightly. ‘The downturn is hitting us badly. I had to make some of my employees redundant. Hard times universally.
You’re getting your share this side of the Pond.’

‘Tell me about it. I suppose you know I got stuffed by Madoff.’

‘I heard. We all got stuffed by the banks,’ she sighed.

‘That Anglo Irish carry-on is something else. Your regulator was really asleep on the job. How could he have missed that?’ Des shook his head.

‘How indeed, but he did, and the rating agencies were way off the mark, and we’re paying for it. But hey, he got a great salary and a big fat pension. Gas, isn’t it?’

‘Practically everyone I knew and played golf with in Dublin had shares in Anglo,’ Des observed. ‘I remember an Anglo banker trying to persuade me to get into some hotel gig
here in the States. Went belly up, I believe. Glad I stayed out of that one. He was a pushy little bloke, you know, smooth talker, slithery, a wide boy. I bet he didn’t get caught.’

‘Probably not,’ murmured Hilary, thinking Des could have been describing himself and he didn’t even realize it.

‘Where’s your mom, what’s she doing today?’ He turned to Jazzy who was staring out the window at the Manhattan skyline etched against a leaden sky.

‘She’s gone for a jog around the reservoir. We’re meeting her in the Met for afternoon tea in the Patrons Lounge. She said we’d better make the most of it cos it looks
like we won’t be renewing our membership. She’s going to move back to London! Did you know that?’ She gazed at him dolefully.

‘No I didn’t.’ He looked stricken.

‘Look, why don’t I leave you and Jazzy to chat for a while. I’ll wait outside in the waiting area,’ Hilary suggested. ‘Get well soon and take care, Des.’ She
stood up and patted his hand and walked out the door, glad to have the excuse to leave. She didn’t know if she would ever see her friend’s soon-to-be-ex-husband ever again.

‘That woman has a kind heart. She’s a good friend to your mother. A better friend than Colette is to her,’ Des remarked when the door closed and they were
alone. ‘When did your mom say she was going to London?’

‘Today. She said I could come if I want. It’s up to me.’

‘And what are you going to do?’ He looked at her despondent expression and felt a surge of guilt. He’d brought them to this, no one else. The responsibility was his and his
alone.

‘I don’t want to leave Jackson, I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t want Mom to be on her own in London either. Do you think you could persuade her to stay?’ she
pleaded.

‘I’ll try but you know what your mom is like when she has her mind made up about something,’ he said tiredly.

‘Just try, Dad, try hard,’ Jazzy urged.

‘I will, Pippin,’ he said, using his pet name for her. But privately Des felt he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.

‘Jazzy tells me you’re going to move back to London. Please let’s talk about it, Colette, you owe me that much,’ Des begged, holding fast to his promise
to his daughter to try and persuade his wife to stay in New York. He had decided to call Colette on her cell as soon as Jazzy had left.

‘There’s nothing to talk about, Des. I’ll stay until after you’ve had your surgery. After that you’re on your own. You can get Miss Battery Park to nurse you back
to full health. And just for the record I owe you
nothing!
’ Colette said icily before hanging up.

Des stared at the dead screen on his phone. He knew Colette of old. When she made up her mind to follow a course of action that was it. There was no changing it. He should cut his losses and try
and salvage something from his current situation.

He tapped a number he knew off by heart onto his phone.

‘Hello?’ came a familiar voice.

‘Kaylee, it’s me,’ he said hopefully. There was silence.

‘Hello? Kaylee?’

‘Yes, Des, I hear you. How are you?’ Kaylee said coolly.

‘Not the best. I’ve to have a bypass.’ He played the sympathy card but didn’t say it was a triple. He didn’t want to make out he was a complete crock.

‘Sorry to hear that,’ she said as though she was speaking to a stranger, and not someone she used to wrap her long shapely legs around and beg to make love to her.

‘Look, can we talk? I want to be with you. I miss you very much,’ Des said softly.

‘What’s wrong? Did your wife kick you out?’ Kaylee sneered. ‘Well it’s like this, Des, you had your chance with me and you didn’t take it. I’m never
going to be a second choice for
anyone
and especially not for you. Don’t call me again.’ For the second time that day his phone went dead as an angry woman hung up on him.

If he was lucky he might die under the knife, Des thought dejectedly. Because he didn’t want to have to deal with what was facing him when he left the unlikely haven that his room in
Lennox Hill had become.

Kaylee lay curled up on her bed and cried her heart out. Great gulping, heaving sobs that wracked her body. She could have had the man of her dreams. He’d practically
thrown himself at her just now, and for one moment when she’d heard Des say that he missed her she’d almost weakened. But in her heart she knew that if she’d taken Des back he
would only have been with her because his wife had given him the boot. The knowledge would have been a malignancy in their relationship that would have eventually destroyed it. She would have
despised him even more than she did right this minute.

She’d just have to endure the heartache and get through it and never, ever have an affair with an unavailable man again. She wiped her eyes and got off her bed and went to the fridge.
There was cold mac and cheese. That and a glass of red might help. She took the repast and sat in front of the TV and channel-hopped until she came across an old fifties weepie with Lana Turner.
Perfect, Kaylee thought miserably, curling up on the sofa for a weep fest as the skies darkened out over the Harbor.

‘So you’ve made up your mind, you’re definitely going back to London,’ Hilary said to Colette on their last night together before she flew to meet Niall
in Toronto the following day.

‘Yup! There’s nothing for me here. I’m done.’ Colette knelt on Hilary’s case for her while she struggled to close the zip. Hilary had spent the day in Macy’s
buying bargains in the pre-Christmas sales.

‘And will you stay there for Christmas or will you come to Dublin?’ Hilary sat back on her heels.

‘I thought I might invite the parents over for Christmas. They always hold a big New Year bash so they’ll want to be home for that.’ Colette stood up.

‘And will you come over for it?’ Hilary wiped her brow as the familiar and unwelcome prickles of heat made her scalp so hot she felt she could fry an egg on it.

‘God, I couldn’t think of anything worse. The soon-to-be-divorced daughter. On her own. I don’t think so.’ Colette grimaced.

‘Come over, and stay with
us
on New Year’s Eve then. We always have a trad night. It’s great fun,’ Hilary invited.

‘I haven’t been to a trad night in
years
!’ Colette declared with a hint of a smile.

‘That’s cos you got too posh and sophisticated,’ teased Hilary. ‘Come on, we’ll have a laugh!’

‘I suppose Queenie Harpur will be there.’ Colette sniffed.

‘Ah stop! Jonathan’s the best. I don’t know why you never took to him.’ Hilary stood up and rubbed her back.

‘He thinks he owns you. He’s always telling you what to do.’ Colette scowled.

‘He organizes me. Someone has to. He’s a great friend.’ Hilary had forgotten how childish Colette could be sometimes.

‘Well I’m your oldest friend,’ Colette declared. ‘Let’s open a bottle of Pétrus to celebrate friendship.’

‘Maybe not, Colette,’ demurred Hilary. ‘It might give Des another heart attack when he comes home to find his wine cellar has been raided and the most expensive ones are
gone.’

‘That’s not all that will have been raided,’ Colette said with a gleam in her eye, going in search of the corkscrew.

Niall was waiting for her in arrivals when Hilary landed at Toronto Pearson International Airport the following morning and she abandoned her trolley and flew into his arms,
kissing him soundly.

He laughed when he drew away. ‘Did you miss me then?’ he teased.

‘Oh I did,’ she said fervently. ‘We are
so
lucky, Niall. I know we have our ups and downs but nothing like what’s going on with the Williamses. I just feel sorry
for every single one of that family.’

‘Even Des?’ he asked, surprised, as she linked his arm while he pushed the trolley through the terminal.

‘Even Des, the prat! I really think he panicked when he tried to get Colette to sign that document. That’s my reading of it, but Colette doesn’t want to know. She just wants
out. She couldn’t bear to “slum it” around New York without her Town Cars and charity committees and the like. I hope you’ve booked a Town Car for us to bring us to the
hotel,’ she joked.

‘Sorry, it’s your common or garden taxi,’ Niall grinned. ‘But we
have
got a lovely room in the Ritz-Carlton with stunning views over Lake Ontario, and a massive
bed!’

‘
Excellent!
’ Hilary exclaimed happily. ‘What are we waiting for?’

‘What indeed?’ agreed her husband. ‘Little did we think we’d be having a second honeymoon in Toronto this December.’