Stand by Me (24 page)
Brendan Delahaye was a businessman, not a builder.
This change was most clearly reflected in his wardrobe. When she’d first married him, Brendan had owned two navy suits, both of which he’d bought in a budget shop in Henry Street. Now he had ten. The latest two were from Louis Copeland, and one of the silk ties he’d bought to go with them had cost more than both his Henry Street suits put together.
He’d bought the most recent suit and tie for the launch of some new apartments he’d built on the Howth Road. It was, he said, the last of his city residential developments, and the two blocks of what the marketing brochure called ‘luxury bespoke dwellings’ had been built in what was once the garden of a Victorian detached house. Brendan had bought the almost derelict house and large garden two years earlier, after the elderly owner died. Now the site was totally transformed. Brendan had incorporated the façade of the old house into one of the apartment blocks, so that from the road it appeared as though the building was still a single house in a landscaped garden. It looked lovely, Dominique thought as she stepped out of the car and stood outside the transformed building, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sad that the old house had actually been destroyed and that the façade was just an illusion.
She was the only person feeling sad, though. The launch of Larkspur was a perfectly managed PR exercise, and the interior hallway of the house, which had been turned into an atrium in the new building, was buzzing with local politicians and minor celebrities who’d been invited to add a bit of glamour to the occasion.
Dominique had been stunned when Brendan told her what had been organised for the evening.
‘But . . . but it’s just apartments,’ she said in astonishment. ‘Surely all you need to do is shove up a For Sale sign? After all, isn’t almost everyone looking to buy a house at the moment?’
‘Yes but we’re providing something very different,’ Brendan told her. ‘Elegant living.’
‘In an apartment block?’ She stared at him.
‘You’re so stuck in the past,’ he said. ‘Things have moved on, Domino. It’s not like a few years ago when people were happy just to get four walls and a tiling allowance for the bathroom. They want more. It’s aspirational.’
‘I don’t get it.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s still just a place to live.’
‘But in a premium location,’ said Brendan. ‘Which means we can charge premium prices.’
She still looked doubtful.
‘And so I want you to pull all the stops out on the glamour front for the launch,’ he added. ‘I want people to look at us and think that we’re a golden couple and that we look fantastic and that if they buy one of my apartments they can look fantastic too.’
‘Are you nuts?’ she asked.
‘I’m deadly serious,’ he told her. ‘I had a meeting today with the PR company and they think we can make a big splash with this. The prices are high, Domino. We want it to go well.’ He took both her hands in his. ‘This is the mega-deal. I sell these quickly and we’re doubling our money.’
‘They’re still just apartments.’
‘Please, Domino.’
‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Good girl,’ he said and kissed her.
She rang Emma to ask for advice.
‘He wants me to look uber-glamorous,’ she wailed. ‘I don’t do that sort of glam, Emma. You know that. I can afford to buy good stuff but I can’t put together a look the way you can.’
‘Why don’t you come down for the weekend,’ suggested Emma. ‘I’ll take you shopping and we’ll find something that makes you look every inch the wife of a successful businessman.’
Even Emma thought of him as a businessman and not a builder any more, thought Dominique as she sat on the train the following Friday afternoon. Emma had seen how far he’d come but Dominique herself hadn’t. Maybe things always appeared different when someone from outside looked in. Maybe when you were caught up in the day-to-day stuff you didn’t always realise how lucky you’d become. She glanced at Kelly beside her, her nose buried in a copy of
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
, the book almost everyone at her school was reading. Kelly had been excited about a trip to Cork and the chance to see her cousins again. Dominique had thought that some time together on the train journey would be nice. She imagined having a girlie conversation with her daughter so that Kelly would know how cool her mum was and how much she cared about her. But in the end Kelly had begged her to shut up and let her read her book, and so Dominique had contented herself with flicking through a copy of
Hello!
, which she’d picked up at Heuston station with the idea of looking at the latest celebrity fashions as possible pointers.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
, the book almost everyone at her school was reading. Kelly had been excited about a trip to Cork and the chance to see her cousins again. Dominique had thought that some time together on the train journey would be nice. She imagined having a girlie conversation with her daughter so that Kelly would know how cool her mum was and how much she cared about her. But in the end Kelly had begged her to shut up and let her read her book, and so Dominique had contented herself with flicking through a copy of
Hello!
, which she’d picked up at Heuston station with the idea of looking at the latest celebrity fashions as possible pointers.
Emma had said that she’d meet them at the train station, but it was actually Greg who was there when they got outside. Kelly rushed over to him and flung her arms around him, while Dominique waited for him to plant his customary kiss on her cheek.
‘The traffic was terrible today and you know how Emma is about driving in traffic,’ said Greg as he put their overnight bag into the boot of his Audi A3. ‘So I offered to be chauffeur. ’
‘Thanks.’ Dominique settled into the front passenger seat. ‘How’s things?’
‘Not bad,’ he told her. ‘Norman is in great health. Lugh is teething but he’s not too cranky. Mam and Dad are enjoying life. What more could any of us ask for?’
His tone was cheerful, but Dominique glanced enquiringly at him. Greg’s attention, however, was firmly fixed on the road ahead.
‘Mam has invited us all to dinner tonight,’ he added as he turned the car towards Ringaskiddy. ‘And since my pretty wife isn’t the world’s best cook, we thought it would be a good idea to say yes.’
Dominique said that that was all right with her, and Kelly - whose book was open on her lap - piped up that it was all right with her too, before starting to read again.
As always, Dominique enjoyed the evening with the Delahayes. After dinner, as they sat in the living room, her gaze flickered over the large extended family. Everyone was doing their own thing. But all in the one room together. She liked it. She liked the warmth and the feeling of acceptance at the Delahayes’ that she’d never felt in her own home. She knew that she was being unfair on her parents, because they were simply very different people to Lily and Maurice and it wasn’t their fault that they weren’t able to be as bright and bubbly as her parents-in-law, but she couldn’t help thinking that she’d miss Brendan’s parents a lot more than her own when they died. She was shocked at herself for having such a thought, and immediately clamped down on it for being so terrible.
‘Penny for them,’ said Greg softly as they sat side by side on the comfortable sofa.
‘Oh, I was just thinking how cosy and nice this family is,’ she said after a moment’s pause. ‘I was thinking how we share everything and how we all look out for each other and it’s great.’
‘I doubt we share everything,’ said Greg. ‘Not the way you think.’
‘Maybe not everything,’ she conceded. ‘But we’re still a big group of people who look out for each other no matter what.’
‘What if one of us had done something unforgivable?’
‘Nothing’s totally unforgivable,’ said Dominique.
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I have to.’ She grinned at him. ‘I’m stuck with Gabriel’s example. He’s big into forgiveness. He’d be very disappointed if I wasn’t too.’
Greg inhaled sharply and then released his breath slowly. ‘But in real life,’ he said grimly, ‘outside the whole forgive-and-forget thing – could you forgive Brendan for . . . for . . . having an affair maybe?’
‘Greg!’ She looked startled and spoke more loudly than she’d intended, so that the others glanced across the room at them.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Bad example.’
‘D’you think Brendan’s having an affair?’ Her words were muted but anxious.
‘Of course not. I was just trying to pick an example.’
‘Well it’s not a good example,’ she said crossly.
‘Sorry,’ he repeated.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘what I really meant was that we all look out for each other. When we’re in trouble we rally round. Remember when I was depressed? Everyone was great, even though I didn’t realise it at the time. And when Emma’s mam died? And when Barry lost his job?’
‘It was easy for Brendan to rally round and give Barry a job,’ said Greg. ‘And him the successful entrepreneur.’
Dominique smiled. A few weeks earlier Barry had been made redundant and Brendan had immediately called his brother-in-law and offered him a place at Delahaye Developments, saying it would be good to have more family in the business.
‘The Delahayes always look out for each other,’ said Dominique. ‘It isn’t like that with the Bradys. They’re not known for being good in a crisis.’
‘Might depend on the crisis.’
‘You’re just being devil’s advocate,’ said Dominique sternly. ‘I love being a Delahaye.’
‘I’m glad.’ The grim expression left Greg’s face. ‘I love you being one too.’
Dominique had never been shopping with anyone like Emma before. Her sister-in-law ignored the department stores and brought her to small boutiques with designer outfits and breath-taking price tags.
‘Oh for heaven’s sake!’ she exclaimed when Dominique protested at the cost of the dress Emma insisted she try. ‘You’re rolling in it, Domino. Live a little, why don’t you!’
‘I’m not rolling in it,’ she protested. ‘And that’s a wicked price for a dress.’
‘Domino Delahaye, your husband is selling the most expensive apartments in Dublin city!’ Emma told her. ‘He wants you to look the part. He can pay for it.’
Dominique laughed. ‘I suppose.’
‘And that looks fabulous on you,’ added Emma as she fingered the silver fabric. ‘You’ll totally wow them.’
‘It’s only a few local councillors and an ex-Rose of Tralee,’ said Dominique. ‘Hardly people who need wowing.’
‘You’ve got to play the game. Make them feel important. And,’ Emma added, ‘this is an important event for Brendan. You need to treat it that way.’
Dominique looked at her sister-in-law and nodded slowly. Really, she thought, Emma understood it all so much better than she did. She always had. Perhaps - the thought came to her unexpectedly - perhaps it was a good thing that the first time Brendan had seen Emma had been at their wedding. If they’d met before that, maybe . . . She stopped thinking. She didn’t like where it was leading.
‘We’re buying you some really good shoes, too,’ said Emma after the dress had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper and placed in a carrier bag. ‘High heels and no complaining.’
‘Hey, I like heels,’ Dominique said. ‘I’m just no good at staying upright on them.’
‘You can practise tonight,’ Emma said. ‘Wear them around the house. It’s not just yourself, you know, Domino. You’re representing the female face of the Delahayes. It’s important you get it right.’
She knew she’d got it right when she came downstairs on the night of the launch. She’d taken to heart Emma’s words about the importance of the evening for Brendan, and so as well as having her hair cut in a new, sleeker style, she’d also made an appointment at the local beauty salon for her make-up and a manicure. When she walked into the living room in her shimmering silver dress and her cripplingly high shoes, Brendan stared at her for a full ten seconds before giving an appreciative wolf whistle.
‘You look stunning,’ he said.
‘Doesn’t she?’ Kelly was bouncing up and down on the sofa. She’d seen Dominique model the shoes and dress earlier and had thought her mother looked stunning too.
‘Well, Mrs Delahaye,’ Brendan smiled at her and offered her his arm, ‘let’s go and wow the crowds.’
‘Anything you say, Mr Delahaye,’ said Dominique as she walked unsteadily out of the door.
She’d totally underestimated the importance of the launch, Dominique realised after the first few minutes. She’d thought that the local councillors were irrelevant and that the media was unimportant. She hadn’t thought that the pretty ex-Rose of Tralee would attract attention, or that the arrival of the interior decorator would be met by photographers. She kept telling herself that this was just a sales pitch for a block of apartments, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt like a movie premiere.
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