25

Ten minutes later, the ladies were sitting comfortably together in one of the meeting rooms, enjoying freshly brewed coffee. Emily was adorned in a dark navy power suit and accompanying nude tights. She had pulled her long auburn hair into a tight bun in what was obviously an attempt to make her appear older. The young woman was working her way through the list of sports clubs that had been the beneficiaries of Dorothy’s contribution, and was busy detailing the amounts the Trust had already distributed.

She had begun to reel off a list of recent applications for funding when Dorothy felt a prickling sensation travelling up and down her spine. It was more urgent than the usual lower back tingle. It was almost as if she was supposed to be somewhere else. She allowed her eyes to rove around the room in case she had missed something that might have triggered the clairs. There was nothing obvious. It was a more than usually boring meeting room, complete with modern beech effect table and the obligatory drab office chairs.

As a simple precaution, she eased her phone out of her bag. After surreptitiously checking the screen, she set it down on the table near her elbow. Then, as she was quite enjoying herself, she went back to listening to Emily. All Dorothy had to do was admire the way the Trust was distributing the money, and make positive noises about the great work the sports clubs were engaged in with the youngsters.

There was even a selection of lovely photographs showing dozens of young people brandishing cricket bats and golf clubs. Without exception, each picture portrayed a group of mixed race and gender youngsters, who looked healthy, fit and happy. There was no pressure.

After twenty minutes, Emily suggested they take a short break. It transpired that Deirdre wished to meet and greet Dorothy personally, but would be tied up for a few minutes with another contributor. Emily seemed keen for her to stay, and Dorothy sensed the time was fast approaching when the manager would be suggesting that now was the time for another fund to be created in her name.

When she noticed the manner in which the other woman hesitated, an expression that was almost furtive crossed Emily’s chubby countenance. A light bulb clicked on inside Dorothy’s head as the penny dropped. She instinctively knew the Trust had discovered she was the mystery Euromillions winner.

After all these months, she had finally been outed. The only two charities to whom she had confided her secret were the Crow Street shelter, and the Rape Crisis Centre. A number of other charities had received donations, but were unaware of her story. In point of fact, most of them had never met her.

Either somebody had squealed, or somebody else had made a lucky guess. She was inclined to blame the Pioneers for their indiscretion. They must have indulged in a few drinks and blabbed to their friends. She sniggered inside her head and the Space Ache fluttered as if it too was enjoying the joke. Go back to sleep this instant, I don’t have the emotional energy for you right now. My secret is out!

Realistically speaking, she could not have expected to keep her identity hidden for much longer. Certainly not on the Dublin charity scene at any rate. It was a miracle she had gotten away with it for this long.

Now they knew who she was, she did not blame the Trust for wanting more money. They were engaged in good works with minimum reward. They knew she had the cash, and wanted to get their hands on a slice of her fortune before one of their contemporaries pipped them at the post. No doubt in their position she would have done the same.

Nonetheless, now her cover was blown, she could not help feeling a twinge of concern at the possible implications. This time the Space Ache hopped as if it too was worried. I said go back to sleep! That’s an order!

Her chest immediately quietened down and, heaving a secret sigh of relief, Dorothy told Emily she would make a few calls while she was waiting. The younger woman looked almost comically relieved, and agreed to reconvene the meeting in fifteen minutes. Then she left the room at a rush, looking as if she was all set to hustle her boss along before the wealthy worm could wriggle off the hook.

Left alone in the drab office, Dorothy shook her head at the blatant lack of subtly then picked up her phone. She checked her messages and returned a missed call from her mother. They chatted for five minutes before Pat had to rush off to deal with a domestic crisis. Once again at a loose end, Dorothy decided to use the interlude wisely, and wandered out to the hall in search of the ladies’ room.

She soon located it and went inside to make use of the facilities. Not knowing what to expect, she was pleased to find it was surprisingly modern and stylish for such an old building. She had a quick nose around then went into the cubicle at the end of the line and hung her bag on the convenient hook on the back of the door.

When she emerged from the cubicle, she washed her hands thoroughly, while at the same time inspecting her reflection in the mirror. She was pleased to see that Sharon’s carefully applied cosmetics still looked very well. She turned away to dry her hands, grateful Saul had suggested the installation of electronic hand driers in every bathroom at the palace. Behind her, the door opened and she heard someone enter. Once again, Dorothy felt the unusual urgent tingle in her spine. Willing herself to remain calm, she slowly turned and came face to face with the other woman.

Rosa Barnett was only five feet eight inches tall, but was wearing black leather shoes with killer heels. As a direct result of this fashion choice, she towered over Dorothy. Unlike Dorothy, she had long slim feet at the bottom of very long, very slim legs. Where Dorothy’s hips were gently curved and rounded, Rosa’s were narrow and boyish. Where Dorothy’s breasts were full and heavy, Rosa’s were small and pert. Dorothy had fair skin that required coaxing before it tanned. In contrast, Rosa was sallow, and looked as if she would tan easily.

Dorothy had honey blonde hair swinging freely below her softly curved shoulders. Rosa had jet-black hair pinned on top of a long head that rested on an elongated neck that perched atop a set of angular shoulders. Her hair was held in place by a dangerous looking spike.

Rosa’s eyebrows were dark and heavy, while Dorothy’s were light brown, and neatly shaped to suit her small face. Where Dorothy’s eyes were large, soft, and very brown, Rosa’s were almond-shaped, piercing, and so dark they appeared almost black. They were set far apart, giving her a vaguely forbidding air.

Dorothy had a cute little upturned nose, while Rosa’s beak was in the Grecian style, and a fraction too large for her face. Both women had prominent cheekbones. Dorothy’s were set in an oval face that had enjoyed the benefit of extreme pampering in recent months. Rosa’s cheeks were hollow. She had the drawn look of a woman who had shed a few too many pounds in a short space of time. This weight loss was particularly noticeable in her cheekbones, which protruded and gave her a distinctly anorexic appearance.

Dorothy’s mouth was wide and her lips were full. They tilted upwards as if she would smile at any moment. Rosa’s mouth was also wide, but that was where the resemblance ended. While her bottom lip was full, her top one was little more than a slash in her pointed chin. She was wearing purple lipstick which in no way softened her overall look.

While Dorothy was wearing a pair of coral strappy sandals and a print silk dress, Rosa was wearing what could only be described as a power suit. The jacket was black and severely cut, which only served to emphasise the angles of her face and body. The skirt was a pencil style, a look Dorothy had not donned since the age of twenty, as she was of the opinion that a pencil skirt was best displayed on a pencil slim figure. Rosa Barnett was certainly that. She made Bel Kinsella look curvy, and Bel had not indulged in a slice of cake since 1995.

Rosa wore jet-black tights with her black suit and shoes, making her appear even more elongated. Her earrings were small and neat and looked as if they were made of white gold. Her watch was a black strap with a chunky face. Her shirt was made of crisp cotton and had possibly been white at the start of the day. Right now, it was difficult to tell because it was covered with coffee, as indeed were parts of the military style jacket and skirt.

The women eyed each other. Dorothy was the first to speak.

‘Hello, I’m Dorothy Lyle.’

‘I’m Rosa Barnett.’

Dorothy blinked. ‘You’re American!’ she exclaimed.

Rosa stared hard at her, and Dorothy happily returned the searching look. She supposed Rosa was not pretty or beautiful in a modern way. If she appeared between the pages of a Jane Austen novel, she would probably be described as ‘handsome’. To Dorothy, it was as if everything she herself was not had been taken by a sculpture and moulded into a beautiful piece of humanity called Rosa. For Dorothy it was very much the attraction of opposites.

‘I’m from New York,’ Rosa slowly replied, still staring.

Her accent was not especially strong. At least not as far as Dorothy was able to judge, never having visited the Big Apple. Rosa spoke with a definite nasal twang and pronounced York like Yawk. Apart from this, Dorothy did not feel the willowy stranger was liable to go all Woody Allen on her or anything of that nature.

‘I’m from Dublin,’ Dorothy replied. ‘Did somebody throw coffee on you?’

Rosa grimaced. ‘It was Janine. She said it was an accident, but I know that’s a lie. She’s pissed because I pointed out some flaws in her facts and figures last week during the staff meeting. This was the Dumb Dora’s idea of payback.’

Dorothy was vastly entertained at the notion of referring to a co-worker as a Dumb Dora. It sounded like an old-fashioned expression, and she wondered if it was a favourite of Rosa’s parents.

‘What will you do now?’ She smiled kindly. ‘Have you meetings this afternoon? Maybe you should go home and change.’

Rosa barked out a little bitter laugh. ‘No need, Dorothy Lyle. This is my final day at the Irish Foundation Trust. My fixed term contract just expired, and they say they can’t afford to keep me any longer. I was intending to spend the next hour cleaning out my desk, then I planned to head straight home to...eh...consider my options. Janine deliberately left the coffee throwing until the last minute because the sucky little beige didn’t want to risk getting into trouble with management. On any other day, I wouldn’t have hesitated to file a complaint against her. She knows that.’

Dorothy was not one hundred percent certain what a ‘sucky little beige’ was, although it did not sound like a positive description of another human being.

‘May I ask you something, Rosa?’

‘Sure,’ the tall woman replied rather hesitantly.

‘What do you see when you look at me?’

Rosa frowned, clearly wondering what sort of person she had encountered in the ladies’ room. ‘If you must know, I see the polar opposite of myself,’ was the slow rejoinder.

‘That’s wonderful news,’ Dorothy beamed. ‘You’re not by any chance one of those highly organised and efficient types, are you? One who has a great head for figures and a good heart, but without being a pushover or soft?’

‘Why do you ask?’ Rosa was looking suspicious now.

‘Because if you are, we need to talk. I have a vacancy in my life for a woman like you. I don’t mean in the romantic sense, although you are beautiful in a Jane Austen sort of way. I mean in the business sense. Will you come back to my apartment and talk to me once I’ve had my meeting with Deirdre? I can’t hurt her feelings by walking out until we’ve had a chat.’

Rosa stared at her again, her black eyes piercing into Dorothy’s brown ones. Dorothy admired the other woman’s evenly applied eyeliner and mascara. Rosa reached a decision. She always used to say afterwards it was not exactly difficult since she had nothing left to lose.

‘Sure, I’ll talk to you, if you like. Will you come and collect me in the main office once you’re done with Dee? I’ll get my stuff together and be ready to go in thirty minutes.’

Rosa gave up on the idea of trying to clean her clothes and together the women exited the ladies’ room. An anxious looking Emily ran down the corridor towards them, obviously having been on the hunt for Dorothy.

‘There you are,’ she exclaimed, as she cast a suspicious glance in Rosa’s direction. ‘I was looking for you. Dee is ready to see you now.’

Without a backward glance or a word to Emily, Rosa strode off on her killer heels.

‘I see you met Rosa,’ Emily spoke the words quietly, as she escorted Dorothy up to the third floor. ‘I hope she didn’t upset you at all.’

Dorothy looked at her in surprise. ‘Why would she upset me? We were only chatting in the ladies’ room for a few minutes. She told me it’s her last day.’

Emily’s youthful countenance assumed a grim expression, and she lowered her voice as if she was worried the building might be bugged. ‘We couldn’t keep her, Dorothy. She’s so New York and spiky. She managed to upset just about every member of staff during the past year. Even though she’s been in Ireland for four years now, she can’t seem to understand we have a way of doing things here and a culture of our own. This isn’t Manhattan for goodness sake, where you can sail into a meeting and start calling the shots as if you own the place! When all is said and done, this is a charity not the Intel Corporation. We believe in treating people with dignity and respect.’

Dorothy was curious to know what dignity and respect meant in real terms, but was forced to put it out of her head and focus on her meeting with Dee. As predicted, the manager felt now would be the perfect time to create the Dorothy Lyle Children’s Fund, which would be used to benefit the needy young people of Ireland.

After listening politely for half an hour, Dorothy told the director that, while she was not adverse to the notion, she would need a few months to consider it. Although disappointed, Dee had to be content with this, and offered to escort the visitor to the front door.

She stood up and Dorothy saw Emily had based her style of dress on the older woman, who was clearly her hero. She fought the urge to burst out laughing and said, ‘I need to pop into the main office for a minute. Presumably that’s where your girls work.’

If Dee was surprised by this, she did not show it, perhaps assuming the other woman wished to bid goodbye to Emily and others of her acquaintance. She did, however, emit an audible gasp of shock when Dorothy paused on the threshold and, having spotted Rosa with a cardboard box on her desk, called out gaily, ‘Ready when you are, Rosa love!’

There were half a dozen bodies working in the office. As one, they stopped talking, ceased activity, gawked first at Dorothy and then at Rosa. Then they stared at Dorothy again. It was reminiscent of a tennis match.

‘Dorothy, are you going somewhere with Rosa?’ asked a tight-lipped Dee, standing next to her.

‘The other way around. She’s coming somewhere with me,’ Dorothy replied loudly and cheerfully so the entire room could hear. ‘Back to my apartment, to be exact. I’m desperately in need of a business manager to organise me and keep the wolves at bay. You ladies...’ Here she paused and smiled around at the occupants of the room, making eye contact wherever possible.

‘You ladies have no idea how tough it has been for me this year. I’ve been trying to take care of a fortune with nobody to advise me except my brother-in-law Gordon. God bless him and his spreadsheets. Let’s be off, Rosa. Time’s a wastin’, girl!’

Rosa tried hard not to grin as she lifted the box off her desk and sauntered across the office in her stilettos. At the door, she turned around. ‘So long, guys,’ she drawled with a malicious glint in her black eyes, ‘hope to see you all real soon. I really appreciate everything you did for me this past year. Especially you, Janine. You are one classy chick.’

Fortunately, they were only ten steps from the front door, which meant Dee did not have far to walk as she seethed her way across the hallway. Dorothy could almost see smoke wafting from her ears. The manager was helpless to do anything except bid them goodbye with as much dignity as she could muster, and close the door behind the escaping duo.

‘We need a taxi,’ Dorothy said firmly, as Rosa chuckled softly while searching for her sunglasses. ‘I don’t suppose you can do that piercing whistle like they do on the movies, can you?’

In response, Rosa tucked the cardboard box under a long arm, stuck her fingers in her mouth, and hailed a passing cab with professional ease and a decibel level close to sixty.

Twenty minutes later, they were back at the Falcon apartment and the kettle was on. Dorothy persuaded Rosa to remove the coffee soaked shirt, and loaned her a clean top so they could chat in some degree of comfort.