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Chapter 24

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I was late for my appointment at the spa. But Cindy, a sweet Asian girl with a New York accent, told me she’d be quick. “Just a little cleansing and buffing, and you’ll be ready for the make-up,” she said. “Just lie down, close your eyes, and relax. I’ll do the rest.”

“Wonderful,” I said with a sigh. I lay down on the padded bench, closed my eyes, and gave myself up to her skilled hands. I had hung my dress in one of the cubicles in the changing rooms and agreed to meet Jonathan in the bar before we went to the party together. I needed his support for this event.

“You’re tense,” Cindy said as she laid a soft blanket over me. “And I can see you’re stressed. Your skin’s a little dry.”

“Am I getting wrinkles?” I asked. “I mean, I’m turning thirty-three today, so maybe—”

Cindy laughed softly while she applied something cool to my face. “Thirty-three? But that’s young. No, no wrinkles, but just a little dryness here and there. Have you been stressed recently?”

“Yes,” I mumbled as my body began to relax. “Very stressed in many ways.”

“You should try yoga. Very de-stressing and great for toning everything.”

“I should start something.” I touched my stomach under the blanket. It was a little wobbly. I hadn’t had much time to go to the gym lately. Yoga might be something worth trying. “I’ve had a little trouble in my love life, but that’s sorted now,” I continued. “I just started seeing someone really special. He’s not at all my type. But what is a type anyway? I thought mine was a macho kind of guy, but then I learned the hard way that they’re not worth it.” I stopped, realising I was babbling. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t talk so much?”

Cindy continued to massage my face with something that smelled divine. “Talk as much as you want. A lot of my clients do. You have no idea the kind of personal details they tell me. It’s as if my touching them makes them feel safe and loved or something. But I don’t mind. I love people, and I love to see women relax and feel pampered.”

“You’re very good at it.”

“Thank you. But you were saying?”

I sighed and breathed in the lovely scent. “Oh, nothing really. All is well for the moment. What’s the gorgeous smell?”

“A cleansing lotion made with a mixture of fruits and essential oils.” Cindy wiped my face with a tissue and applied a cool liquid with a cotton wool ball. “This is a moisturising mask that’ll dry in a few minutes. And then I’ll remove it and apply a toner and you’re done and ready for make-up.”

“Sounds good.”

“I had this client today,” Cindy chatted on. “An older woman. Sixty-ish. Nice skin for her age. She told me all about herself and how she’s finally come to terms with how her ex-husband treated her. She’s met someone new, she said. Someone who’s not only her boyfriend, but also her business partner. They’re starting a new venture together. He’s put all his savings into it, she said. So they’ll be—”

I sat up. “What? Business partner? Was her name Liz?”

Cindy looked at me, surprised. “Yes. That was her name. Great tipper too. Do you know her?”

“Yeah. I know her.” What was this all about? Joint business venture? Was Liz conning Dad? “Did she say anything else?” I asked. “I mean, did she explain what kind of business it is or anything like that?”

“No. She didn’t go into the details. But you’ll probably meet this Liz at the party. You can ask her then.”

“Yes, but—”

“Please lie down so I can finish the treatment,” Cindy ordered.

“Okay.” I lay down again and squeezed my eyes shut, my whole body stiff as a poker.

“Could you try to relax? Or at least not screw up your eyes like that?”

I did my best, while all kinds of thoughts whirled around in my head. Was Liz trying to fool Dad into giving her all his money? Was she some kind of gold-digger? Or a confidence trickster? Or maybe even a black widow, who killed her victims after— I slapped myself down. No, stop it. Liz was divorced, not a widow. Or...? What did I know about her former life? Not much. But Jonathan did.

***

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“What do you know about Liz?” I asked Jonathan in the bar half an hour later over a champagne cocktail when I was finally all made up and dressed in my slinky black silk dress, my hair swept up.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes misty.

“Thank you. So do you,” I said, only just noticing how knock-’em-dead gorgeous he looked in a tux. “You should always be in black tie. Always and forever. Cary Grant lives on in you.”

He blushed. “What? Are you serious?”

“Perfectly.” I knocked back my cocktail. “You should be dressed like that all the time. But maybe only in private.”

He winked. “That could be arranged. But what was that you asked? About Liz?”

I pulled myself up. “Yes. How well do you know her?”

He looked thoughtful. “Quite well. She moved into her flat about two years ago. She told me she needed a place of her own after her divorce. She had retired from the firm they ran together, and since then she’s been working freelance as an accountant. Seems to be good at it. They had no children, but she has a sister and nieces and nephews in Dublin she’s fond of.”

I nodded and wriggled on the bar stool. “Most of that I know too. Anything else?”

“She loves gardening and Irish music, mostly the old, classical stuff. Speaks Irish fluently and—” He stopped. “That’s it really. Except that I like her a lot, and she’s great company. Good sense of humour and very helpful and easy-going. Why do you ask?”

I fiddled with my glass. “I’m worried. I think she has made Dad invest in some kind of business venture that has eaten up all of his savings, which he planned to live on when he retires.”

He stared at me. “What? You think Liz is some kind of gold-digger? I find that hard to believe.”

“Me too. But... Okay, so I’m overreacting here. It’s just all this secrecy that’s getting to me. He has obviously gotten into some business deal. But why hasn’t he discussed it with me?”

“Probably because you’d talk him out of it. You’d be all for the safe option of keeping his money stashed away and only using it a little at a time. Like some kind of addition to his pension.”

“Yes, that’s what I think would be the safest thing. He’s worked hard all his life, and now he can relax and take it easy. Maybe even get into that little fixing shop he mentioned. You know, doing repair jobs and painting and decorating. He loves that kind of work, and he’s good at it. Wouldn’t that be perfect for him at his age?”

Jonathan shook his head. “He’s not an old man, darling, he’s only sixty-five. Not ready for the slippers and chair by the fire yet. I’d say he wants to try something new and exciting, maybe even a little risky. And remember, Liz is a qualified accountant with a lot of experience. I’d say she’d be a huge help to him.” He touched my cheek. “Try not to worry, okay?”

“Okay,” I said without conviction. “I’ll try.”

We were interrupted by Mary, Fidelma, and Sinead, all dressed to kill in party dresses and high heels. Dan arrived behind them, looking surprisingly trim in his hired tux. Jonathan bought them all drinks, and then we chatted for a while before it was time to join the party down the corridor, which seemed to have started already.

Jonathan took my hand. “We’ll soon find out what’s going on,” he muttered in my ear. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think. Your dad’s no fool.”

I smiled, trying to look positive. “I hope you’re right.”

We walked down the hallway into the brightly lit drawing room, which had been turned into a party room used for weddings and other social gatherings. The room’s lovely Georgian proportions had been enhanced by new paint, curtains, and lighting. The room was packed with people dressed up for serious partying. At the back of the room, Dad and Jerry were testing the sound system, beside which was a huge table where the serving staff were finishing laying the buffet. A cameraman from RTE hoisted a camera onto his shoulder, ready for action.

Pandora, in a red dress that made most of her generous curves, came toward us with two champagne flutes. “Hi. You both look amazing.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Happy birthday. Champagne for you both.”

“Thank you.” I took one of the flutes.

“It’s for the toast.” Pandora handed Jonathan the other glass. “Jerry will make an announcement as soon as Finola’s here.”

“And Colin?” I asked.

Pandora shook her head. “Not coming,” she said in my ear. “He hates crowds, and he was worried he’d be mobbed by the women at the party. And of course, that’s a distinct possibility. Besides, he wants to spend as much time with the girls as he can before he leaves for the movie that’s being shot in Norway later this month.”

There was a commotion at the door as Finola, in a black pantsuit, pushed through. She made a beeline for me, and as she came closer I could see the excitement in her eyes.

“Hi, Audrey. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry and that I didn’t have a chance to tell you before tonight.”

“Tell me what?” I asked, confused.

“About—”

But her words were drowned out by Jerry’s voice from the loudspeakers. “Ladies and gentlemen and Audrey,” he started to general laughter.

“Is she a lady or a gentleman?” someone shouted.

“A lady,” Jerry said, “but she’s also the birthday girl.”

“Happy birthday, Audrey!” shouted a group near the buffet table. They started to sing the birthday song, soon joined by the whole crowd in a nearly deafening chant.

“Thank you very much!” I shouted, forming a megaphone with my hands.

Dad lifted his glass. “A toast to the birthday girl. Cheers, Audrey!”

Everyone gulped down their champagne. This was followed by more singing and applause.

Dad waded through the crowd and planted a big kiss on my cheek. “Many happy returns, girl. I have a present for you, but I’ll give it to you later. I have to do something first. I think you’ll be pleased.” He waded back through the throng to Jerry’s side.

Jerry called for order, tapping the microphone. “Now that we’ve cheered for Audrey, her dad, Mr Sean Killian, wants to make an announcement. Over to you, partner.”

“Partner?” I mumbled to Jonathan. “What does he mean?”

“No idea,” Jonathan muttered back. “Just listen.”

Dad had managed to make his way back to his position beside Jerry, who had been joined by Finola. I spotted Liz standing behind them with a big smile on her face, her eyes on Dad.

“Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming,” Dad said. “I’m sure many of you have been wondering what this celebration is all about.”

“You bet we have,” I muttered.

“Well,” Dad said, “it’s about the newspaper. The Knockmealdown News. Your newspaper, I should say. As you may or may not have heard, it’s been sold by the Montgomery Group to a new publishing firm—The Jersean Group. And who are they, you’re probably asking yourself. Well, we can now reveal all. The Jersean Group are—” he paused as we all stared at him with bated breath “—Jerry and me, Sean. Thus, the name. Jer-Sean.”

I gasped, feeling I was going to faint.

“Holy shit!” someone shouted.

I squeezed Jonathan’s hand so hard he winced. “Oh. My. God. Of course!” I exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that? How stupid I’ve been. That’s what he’s been up to.”

Jonathan threw back his head and laughed. “That’s hilarious. Jerry and Sean. What a crafty pair of old geezers.”

Delight mixed with relief, I beamed back at Jonathan. “Jerry is a bit too young to be an old geezer, but not Dad. I’m so happy for him.”

Jonathan smiled. “Me too. Let him know how happy you are.”

“Well done, Dad!” I shouted and clapped my hands. I was soon joined by most of the guests, who applauded, shouted, and whistled.

“But there’s more,” Dad continued into the mike. “Please calm down for a second so I can tell you the rest.”

The noise died down.

“The road to our purchase has been long and hard,” Dad said. “We didn’t have sufficient means between the two of us, so we nearly gave up. The bank would only lend us a small amount, and my lump sum plus Jerry’s savings didn’t quite meet the purchase price.” Dad grabbed Liz’s hand and pulled her forward. “Our accountant, Liz Mulcahy, advised us to ditch the idea, and we nearly did until a new partner stepped in and added to the pot. This new partner is none other than—Finola McGee. Step forward, Finola.”

Finola waved and grabbed the microphone from Dad. “Here I am,” she shouted. “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever done. But I did it. Never thought I’d end up as part of the establishment. But, Jesus, life’s so weird. I had this big advance I didn’t know what to do with. Should probably have spent it on plastic surgery to fix my nose and suck the fat out of my thighs. But this seemed a whole lot less painful and a lot more fun. I’ve missed being in publishing, and I’ve missed this little town. But now I’m here to stay, and I’ll be back in business again. In a different way, of course. But still. I have a foot in there.”

The crowd erupted into renewed cheering and shouts of “Good on ye, Finola!”

I stared at Jonathan. “Finola?” I stammered. “But...I mean she and I were trying to figure out... We were a team, I thought. Sleuthing together on the trail of these unknown publishers. And then she was in it all this time.”

“Seems a little sneaky, I have to say,” Jonathan remarked.

“Sneaky? She lied to me, the conniving bitch. And now she’s my boss. Makes me think I was better off before. At least he was easier to figure out.”

Someone tugged at my arm. “Audrey,” Finola said, “I can explain.”

I glared at her. “Yeah, right.” I knew the camera was aimed at us, but I didn’t care. I would have walked away, but Finola held my arm in an iron grip.

“No, you don’t. You’re going to listen to me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I say so.”

“Oh, I forgot,” I scathed. “You’re my boss now. I’m supposed to curtsey and say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

Jonathan grabbed us by the arms and pulled us through the crowd to the door. “Maybe you should continue this, uh, discussion in private? It wouldn’t do to have the fight broadcast to the nation.”

We made it into the corridor before Finola put her hand on my arm and started to explain. “I know you think I lied to you. But it’s not true. I didn’t find out about Jerry and your dad until that day at the ploughing championships. When you left, I went to have a chat with Jerry. Just idle gossip, you know? Catching up. A long-time-no-see kind of thing. That’s when he told me about what he and Sean were trying to do and how they were short of funds.”

I pulled away. “Yeah? And you just forgot to share this with me? It involved my father, but I suppose that didn’t occur to you.”

Finola nodded. “Yeah, sure it did. But I didn’t want to say anything before I had decided. I went home and had a long chat with Colin. The advance for my new book had just come through, and I had a huge cheque for my articles in various US papers in the post. I needed to invest all of that in something that might give me some dividends. Jersean seemed like a good option. Colin added a bit as well. And then, your father—”

“Dad? What about him?”

“He asked me not to tell you. He didn’t want you to know until it was a done deal. He was afraid to look foolish if it fell through.”

“Foolish? But he’s my dad. I love him no matter what.”

Finola nodded. “Of course you do. But he wanted your respect and admiration. He wanted you to be proud of him, not sorry for him. He doesn’t want to look old and weak. I think men at that age are as worried about growing old as women. Maybe even more so.”

My legs suddenly wobbly, I leaned against the wall. “Oh. I didn’t think of it like that. God, that makes me feel bad.”

Finola’s eyes softened. “Don’t feel guilty. Not your fault he’s so insecure. I think he needed to impress Liz too. During our meetings, he’s been trying not to lean on her. She’s a strong woman. Smart as a whip. But that’s hard for men to take.”

“I know. I’d be happy if he ended up with her.”

“Me too,” Finola declared. She smiled and patted my arm. “Come on, let’s go and enjoy the party. And that rather dishy man is hovering at the door, staring at us. Maybe he thought we’d get into a fight?”

I laughed. “If we did, you’d win.”

“Nah, you’re taller than me. I wouldn’t be able to reach.”

“You’re right, I could just bop you on the head.”

“You could. But now it’s all sorted, so we can forget about fighting. I’m really looking forward to working with you. You’ve done such a great job with that magazine.” Finola waved at Jonathan. “Come on. She’s all yours. I’m going to get some of that delicious nosh before it’s all gone. See ye later, lads.”

“She’s such a powerhouse,” Jonathan said as he joined me.

I sighed and blew on a lock of hair. “I know. I’m exhausted after that chat. I don’t really want to go in there again. But I should. Just to congratulate Dad.”

“How about finding a quiet spot, like the library? Then I can get some food and wine and bring it to you. We can eat in peace, and then maybe your Dad could join us?”

I sighed happily. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek. “See you in the library.”

“Won’t be long,” Jonathan promised.

The library, dimly lit by lamps with green shades, was blissfully quiet. I walked along the bookcases and ran my fingers over the spines of the books, the worn leather as soft as silk. The slightly musty smell evoked pleasant memories of my grandfather’s house, where I’d been read tales of magic and adventure from early childhood.

Jonathan returned, carrying two glasses of wine, followed by a waiter with a tray, which he put on a table by one of the velvet sofas.

We sat down and, suddenly hungry, I picked up a fork and started to eat. There was lobster salad, a chicken drumstick, some avocado, and a baked potato with sour cream and chives.

“I had to put it all on one plate,” Jonathan said, biting into his chicken leg. “A bit of a strange combo, I suppose.”

“It’s yummy,” I mumbled, my mouth full. “I was starving.”

“So I see.” He kissed my nose. “You’re looking better. You were so pale there in the drawing room. I was getting worried.”

I touched his cheek. “So sweet of you to worry. I was scared in there. Didn’t know what was going on. Nobody would tell me. Okay, so they wanted it to be a surprise, and Dad was feeling insecure, but it didn’t seem fair somehow.”

“It wasn’t.” There was sudden fire in Jonathan’s eyes. “They shouldn’t have put you through all that. I didn’t know what was going on, but if I had, I would have done something about it.”

I sighed and picked up my glass. “Well, never mind. It all turned out well in the end, didn’t it?”

“It did. But now I want some time for you and me.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his tux and handed it to me. “This is your present. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

I unfolded the paper, read what was on it, and gasped. “A cruise for two in the Baltic to St Petersburg? Oh my God, how fantastic!”

Jonathan grinned. “We’ll visit the home of Leo Tolstoy too.”

I looked at the date of the booking. “We’re going at the end of the month? For two weeks? But what’ll I do about the paper, the magazine and everything?”

He grinned wickedly. “Let Finola take care of that. Didn’t she say she wanted to get back to publishing? And I have a distinct memory of you telling me she handed it all over to you when she married Colin and went to LA. Now it’s payback time.”

“You’re right. I had to jump in at the deep end then.” I threw my arms around him. “I have dreamed of doing this trip for years. Thank you, my sweet, adorable best friend.”

He kissed me. “And I want to thank you for—” He paused. “For... for, well you know. Everything.”

“No need to say thank you. I love you, that’s all.” I took his hand and pulled him up. “Let’s go.”

Jonathan resisted. “But what about your dad and everyone? They want to celebrate your birthday. They have presents for you, and there’ll be a cake and more singing.”

I sighed. “Oh shit, I don’t want any of that. Please, Jonathan, take me home. I want to get into bed with you and talk about our trip. And then go to sleep with your arms around me. Screw the others. And, forgive me, but screw Dad too. He’s had me long enough. I want to run away from home.”

He jumped to his feet. “You’re right. We need time for us. Come on, let’s sneak out before they spot us. We’ll take my car and leave yours here.”

We tiptoed across the carpet and peered out the door. The corridor was deserted, and the noise from the party a little less loud than before. “They must be still eating,” Jonathan said. “Perfect time to escape. Come on!”

We raced down the corridor, across the lobby, and out into the cool, starlit night. When we reached the car park, we jumped into Jonathan’s car and drove off.

When we were just outside town, he pulled into a leeway and turned to me. “I just need to—” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed him back, putting my arms around his neck, and we stayed there, snogging like teenagers until Jonathan pulled back and started the engine. “Now I’m ready for bed. How about you?”

I laughed and squeezed his thigh. “After that kissing marathon? Drive on!”

And he did, possibly breaking the speed limit. Ten minutes later we were naked in bed doing what we’d been wanting to do all evening. And what we would be doing over and over again until death did us part.

THE END- but not quite

Find “A long Way to Christmas” the fourth and final part of this series on Amazon.com here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076YG48W8

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076YG48W8

I hope you enjoyed this collection of novels set in County Tipperary. Sign up to my e-mailing list to get notifications of my new releases, or check my website for the latest news and to check out the rest of my 22 novels.