Homecoming (50 page)

‘Have you offered to babysit while he goes out with Danielle?’

‘I’m not that stupid,’ said Connie.

Nicky stared at her sister blankly. ‘I’m saying nothing.’

Sylvie, who’d recently left the school and moved to Belfast, was pregnant.

‘Am I not the size of the house?’ she demanded when she met Connie off the Dublin to Belfast train. Her hands encompassed a small bump lovingly showcased in a maternity wrap dress that Connie was sure was some designer or other. It was still probably a smaller size than Connie’s own dress.

‘A hotel,’ said Connie, kissing her friend French-style on both cheeks. ‘You’re the size of a hotel. A very chic hotel.’

‘Pah!’

Sylvie’s house was every bit as elegant as Connie had anticipated. The spare bedroom boasted wall-to-wall wardrobes and a small single bed.

Thrilled to show off her home, Sylvie was keen to explain where she’d sourced each bit of furniture and what she personally had done to make it better.

‘This needed more distressing,’ she said, gesturing to the kitchen table, a slab of pale wood with giant carved legs. ‘I am very good with the sandpaper now.’

‘It’s all so pretty that I’m very distressed,’ teased Connie.

She was staying for one night and, in honour of her visit, Sylvie had cooked classic French onion soup and a peasanty beef dish with crusty bread. It was all delicious and Connie made a complete pig of herself.

Sylvie’s husband, Isaac, was a charming man with exquisite manners and was happy to let the two women gossip about the staff in Matilda’s.

What Connie wasn’t that interested in talking about, and what Sylvie was determined to cover, was Connie’s love life.

‘This man, this Steve, he sounds perfect!’

He was, Connie thought wistfully. Sad that he’d been under her nose for so long and she’d only really taken notice of him just when Danielle had got her claws into him. But that was life.

‘What are you doing about him?’ Sylvie demanded.

‘Nothing,’ retorted Connie. ‘He’s seeing someone else, the mother of a kid from his daughter’s class.’

Sylvie didn’t like the sound of this one bit.

‘But he likes you?’

‘He does, but more as a friend.’

‘Pah. Men don’t like women as friends. Do they, Isaac?’ she entreated her husband.

‘Leave me out of it, my love,’ he said in his deep purring voice.

‘Isaac! Help me out!

‘Fine, men don’t like women as friends. Not often. If we like you, then we like you.’

‘See?’ Sylvie smiled like a cat licking cream off its whiskers. ‘He likes you. Do not let this other woman get him. You are handier, you live beside him and you have no children. Men like convenience.’

‘Never mind, Isaac,’ said Connie, patting his arm. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

‘Do not let this one get away!’ ordered Sylvie.

‘It’s too late,’ said Connie. ‘We’re only friends. We’ve had dinner in my house several times, dinner in his house, and a pizza out. If he hasn’t made a move yet, he wants to be friends.’

Sylvie got up to bring in the cheese. ‘Have I taught you nothing? You make the first move, stupid.’

The following Monday, Ella rang Connie’s doorbell. Her grandmother was taking care of her in Steve’s house and Elisabeth had already met Connie and been told that Ella liked dropping in from time to time. The rule was that Ella had to phone first, with Elisabeth’s permission, and then drop round.

‘Come on up,’ said Connie happily.

Ella bounced in the door and immediately made for the fridge.

‘No 7UP,’ she said miserably, after a millisecond’s reconnaissance.

‘Your father will kill me if I give you fizzy drinks,’ Connie said.

‘Danielle lets me have them,’ said Ella.

Connie’s brow furrowed. The girl in Patsy’s would assume she’d been thinking an awful lot if they met again.

‘Danielle’s not me,’ she said. ‘You can have one profiterole, though.’

‘Super dooper!’ whooped Ella.

They sat on the steps up to the front door and ate their profiteroles.

Ella chatted about holidays and how she and her father were going to France for a week camping.

It was all Connie could do not to ask: Will Petal and her mum be going too?

Ella moved on to talking about the tennis camp she was going to the following week and how she liked tennis, but she’d never done it before.

‘Is it hard? I don’t think so. Not for me,’ Ella said excitedly.

Connie’s mind wandered off.

She’d start working for Community Cares, she decided. It would be good for her soul to stop moping and worrying about herself. Look how many other people were suffering in the economic downturn. She’d met Mrs Mills in the square the other day and despite all the poor dear had to contend with she kept saying how cheered up she and Terence had been by their trip to Lourdes.

‘I know Rae put in a good word for me,’ Mrs Mills said, as they walked slowly round the gardens with Terence. ‘I couldn’t have afforded it without CC’s help. Eleanor gave me a little gift for spending money when we went away, too. Said she’d love to think of myself and Terence having a few nice meals over there. She’s a gorgeous woman, so kind. And look at Terence, can’t you see how improved he is?’

Connie couldn’t see any improvement, but she thought how nice it would be to help people like Mrs Mills.

Rae said it wasn’t always easy, and Connie knew that, but still…

‘Dulcie and I will train you, if you get accepted,’ Rae said. ‘There are police checks – not that you’ll have a problem with that, but we all need them these days. It’s tough work, though. There are a lot of people we deal with now who would have been the ones donating money to CC a few years ago. It’s hard, going into houses where the people are devastated and aren’t sure if they’re going to lose their homes or not.’

Rae was thinking, though she didn’t say it to Connie, of Shona, the woman with the huge house who’d stood to lose it all. Her husband had found another job abroad, so they’d left Ireland and were renting out their old house for about a quarter of what they’d have got for it pre-crash. Rae hoped Shona was finding it easier abroad than she’d found it at home.

‘Are you sure you’re able for it? We’d love to have you, Connie. We need all the help we can get.’

‘I’m sure,’ Connie had said.

She put her arms around Ella and gave her a hug as they sat on the steps in the sun. Ella mightn’t have time for her soon, when she got older and spent more time with Danielle. After all, a child only needed one mother substitute.

Gaynor was surprised to see Nicky at her front door on a Saturday afternoon.

‘Is something wrong with Connie?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said Nicky, stepping into the hall. ‘She’s making a complete mess of her life. We’re going to have to do something or that nice Steve will go off thinking she doesn’t like him.’

‘But she’s crazy about him.’

‘I know that, you know that, but does Steve know that?’ demanded Nicky.

‘Has she told him about Keith?’ Gaynor asked suddenly.

‘Yes,’ said Nicky. ‘When he talks about his dead wife, she talks about Keith. She thinks it helps him to talk. I think he assumes that Keith is the great love of her life and she’ll never want another man.’

‘For a clever woman, she’s an absolute idiot when it comes to men.’

‘She thinks someone like Steve could never be interested in her,’ Nicky said.

‘I know,’ sighed Gaynor.

‘But,’ smiled Nicky, ‘I have a plan.’

It wasn’t a surprise fortieth birthday, but there would be a surprise element, Nicky told Connie.

‘What does that mean, exactly?’ said Connie.

‘You’ll love it,’ Nicky assured her. ‘There will be a big gang of us and it’ll be a blast.’

‘What do you mean by “a blast”?’ Connie was still suspicious. ‘If a man appears dressed like a fireman and starts to rip off his clothes, I’m going home.’

‘Blimey,’ said Nicky, stunned. ‘Turning forty has had a bad effect on you! Once upon a time, you’d have loved that.’

‘I’ve changed,’ said Connie. ‘I put my name forward to work with Community Cares this afternoon. Rae says they’d love to have me. It’ll be great to have a purpose in my life.’

Nicky nodded. ‘Yeah, purpose, great. Come on, we don’t want to be late.’

Freddie and Nicky escorted Connie to the restaurant in their car.

‘Do I look all right?’ Connie said, pulling out a compact to check her lipstick again. She’d got her hair blowdried in Patsy’s so that it fell in dark waves around her shoulders. Nicky had done her make-up, although she’d gone very heavy with the eyeliner and the dark shadow.

‘You need to look sexy,’ she said.

‘Why?’ demanded Connie.

‘It’s a rule,’ insisted Nicky. ‘Women need to look sexy on their fortieth birthdays.’

‘If you say so,’ sighed Connie, although she had to admit that she did look rather good in the mirror. She never bothered with that much make-up normally, and it was nice. Definitely sexy. Perhaps if she’d shown Steve this look instead of her normal schoolteacher-in-plain-navy look, then he’d have fancied her.

‘You look fabulous,’ Freddie said. Nicky had primed him.

‘Freddie, thank you,’ said Connie in surprise.

Nicky had given her a beautiful pink-and-purple silk shift dress as a present and she was wearing it.

‘You’re giving me too much,’ said Connie when she opened the wrapping. ‘A surprise party and a present. You’re so good, I love you.’

Connie adored the dress. It wasn’t the sort of thing she’d buy for herself, but it was gorgeous. It skimmed her hips and made her legs look endless. Plus there was no waistband to stick into her middle, no matter how much she ate. The perfect dress, really.

‘Oh, I know where we’re going!’ said Connie delightedly when they pulled up beside an elegant restaurant with two fruit trees outside the door.

‘The Lemon Tree. I’ve read about this. It’s supposed to be gorgeous but a bit romantic.’ She looked at Freddie and Nicky in alarm. ‘This isn’t the sort of place for a big gang of people.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Nicky, getting out of the car.

The three of them walked to the door, with Connie vainly trying to see in through the darkened windows to see which of her friends were already there. Sylvie had promised to come from Belfast, Rae was to come with Will, Eleanor was coming too, but she might be a bit late, she said.

The maître d’ greeted them.

‘The O’Callaghan table,’ said Nicky, pushing Connie forward.

‘This way, madam,’ he said, and led the way.

Connie followed, tugging the bottom of her shift dress down. She looked for a big table but there were none so far, just lots of tables for two or four. And then, round a corner by a window on to a pretty garden, she saw a long table set for twenty. There were subtle cream roses in small vases and nightlights, and sitting there were all her friends. Gaynor and Pete, Sylvie and Isaac, some of the teachers from school, Rae and Will, three of her college friends, and even Eleanor. Megan had wanted to come too, but she was spending some time with her sister. And there sitting in the banquette with an empty place beside him, was Steve. Connie’s heart skipped a beat just looking at him. He was here, at her party. She looked about but there was no sign of Danielle.

‘Surprise!’ they all said.

They ordered pink champagne and Connie went round and kissed all her guests before sliding into the empty seat beside Steve.

He looked particularly gorgeous tonight and Connie wondered, as she always did when she saw him, how she’d lived beside him for two years without ever really noticing him.

‘Happy birthday,’ he murmured.

‘Thank you!’ she said, still a little shell-shocked.

She didn’t kiss him. Not because she hadn’t thought of it but because she
had.
She wasn’t quite sure what bright red colour her face and chest would go if she did kiss him. But he had no such compunction.

‘Don’t I get a kiss?’ he said quietly.

‘’Course,’ she answered in her bright voice and gave him a peck on the cheek.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ he asked.

Around them, everyone was chattering and leaning forward for their glasses to be filled with champagne. Connie let herself assimilate the fact that these people were here for her, that Steve appeared to be here for her, that she looked better than she’d ever looked in her life. Then she gave herself a little shake. No, don’t be silly. Steve is just being nice…

She almost jumped when one large hand cradled her cheek and gently turned her face to his. It was no peck on the cheek: it was a proper kiss on the lips.

In shock at the feel of Steve’s mouth on hers, Connie gave a little squawk and opened her mouth, whereupon Steve moaned.

He moaned! Connie pulled back an inch, aware that everyone at the table was watching but pretending not to. ‘Why are you kissing me?’

‘Did you not want me to?’

Connie didn’t know how to describe the melting feeling in her insides. The girl in
The Bride’s Ransom
would.
She
melted and went hot inside, and reached great peaks of tension and excitement. But Connie O’Callaghan just felt pure happiness rush though her.

Experimentally, she reached up and touched his face. He smiled at her. A hot, sexy smile. Not a you’re-my-neighbour smile.

‘That wasn’t a neighbourly kiss?’ she said, just to be sure.

‘Not neighbourly at all.’

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Just checking. Where’s Ella tonight?’

‘Oh, she’s staying with my mother.’ His eyes didn’t leave her face.

‘Cheers! Happy birthday, Connie!’ roared Freddie, who had no sense of timing.

They went though five courses, all gorgeous, all filled with fun, and Connie sat there in absolute bliss with Steve sitting beside her, his knee sometimes touching hers. Other times, he sat back with his arm around her shoulders. As if they’d been doing this for months, Connie leaned against him. It felt so right, but she couldn’t quite believe it.

Before dessert, she escaped to the loo with Nicky.

‘Do you think…?’ she began, before Nicky cut her off.

‘Of course I think. He fancies the pants off you and you’re the only person who didn’t realise it. This is our present to you. I set it all up and it wouldn’t have worked if Steve didn’t want it too. By the way, he never was interested in Danielle. “Superficial” was the exact word he used.’