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In 1980, Rosa Cassandra Barnett was born into a privileged background on the Upper East Side of New York City. Her mother, Susan Anderson, a ridiculously attractive debutante, met Simon Barnett, a well-known photographer, while Rosa’s grandmother, a loving yet traditionally minded woman, was doing her best to launch her only daughter into society in the same manner her own mother had launched her some thirty years earlier.
The permissive society that defined the city of San Francisco at the time had largely gone unnoticed by Susan, or so her overly protective parents assumed. Having cushioned their only girl from the moment of her birth, Lillian and Frederick Anderson naturally assumed she was a creature of their making and, more importantly, a creature they could control.
On the evening Lillian escorted Susan to an upmarket party thrown by one of her oldest friends, she held fast to the belief that her daughter would meet a worthy young man and begin the long process of courtship, marriage, home and family. Naturally, the young couple would settle close to their in-laws so Lillian and Frederick would be able to maintain regular contact, not only with their daughter, but also with their future grandchildren.
When Susan and Simon’s eyes met across a room positively overflowing with 1979 chic, it was a classic case of love at first sight. Too late, Lillian and her husband questioned the wisdom of sending Susan to a single sex boarding school, followed by finishing school in Switzerland.
Inside these worthy establishments, she was cosseted and protected, not only from the harsh realities of life, but also from the fallout that succeeded the shift of the tectonic plates of sexual liberality.
Perhaps, they later conjectured over dirty martinis, if they had allowed her more freedom during her teenage years, she would not have fallen for the first charming man who crossed her path. Lillian instantly recognised Simon Barnett for what he was. She declared him the most ineligible and unsuitable man in the room for her virgin princess, and did her level best to tear the couple apart. Susan was having none of it. She allowed herself to be swept into a whirlwind romance with a man who many regarded as beyond redemption.
Within a relatively short space of time, Simon surprised everybody who knew him by proposing to the debutante. By now, Susan was exhibiting all the signs of a hopeless case, and none were surprised when she accepted.
To the chagrin of the Andersons, Simon swept his new bride away to live in a condo on the east coast, where the newly-weds would not be subjected to the constant scrutiny of his in-laws.
Six months later, Rosa was well and truly on the way and Simon decided, with the help of his much-adored wife, to knock his artistic hopes and dreams on the head once and for all, and join the long-established family publishing business in New York City.
Rosa grew up believing every apartment came equipped with its own maid, and every family had a holiday retreat in the Hamptons, or Europe, or both. As Susan grew more graceful and beautiful, Simon grew richer and more successful, and Rosa grew taller, smarter and more stubborn.
Susan wanted her only child to apply to Columbia University in Manhattan, where she would be able to major in art history. This education choice would have a dual effect. It would enable Susan to keep her daughter close by, while at the same time fulfilling her own youthful dream of attaining such a qualification.
Susan had sacrificed her third level education when she married at a young age. She did not regret choosing Simon over a degree, but now wished her daughter to take up the baton so readily discarded by her mother.
Rosa had zero interest in studying either history or art. When she turned sixteen, it was forcibly borne upon her which direction her mother’s thoughts had taken. Rosa promptly shot down all of Susan’s cherished aspirations in a hail of bullets. Susan was sorely disappointed at her only child’s deplorable lack of appreciation for art, hence Rosa kindly allowed her mother a full year in which to recover from the shock before she launched her next strike.
During her senior year of high school, she broke the news that, while Columbia was her first choice of school, she intended to opt for a dual degree in business administration and international affairs.
Simon was pleased at the news, although Susan was once again sorely disappointed by the implications. She would not have balked at the notion of her daughter studying medicine. She could have specialised in paediatrics, and found a job at one of the many fine NY hospitals.
The fact that Rosa was interested in international business and accounting did not bode well for the future of the family. Despite Susan’s misgivings, she never dreamt of getting between Rosa and her ambitions. The Barnetts committed to paying the many thousands of dollars necessary for the dual degree, and supported their daughter all the way during the admissions process.
After graduating with honours, Rosa felt burnt out by having achieved so much in such a relatively short period. She took a year out and spent it touring the world at her parents’ expense. Simon secretly hoped that when his daughter returned, she would take an interest in the family business.
Arriving back in New York, Rosa felt renewed by her time overseas and took the decision to return to the fold. Even though she found only limited fulfilment in the world of publishing, she was glad of the work experience and salary the job offered and, to Simon’s delight, spent the next three years employed in the finance department of the family firm.
Simon Barnett was the son of a self-made man who had been born in Ireland in the closing years of the nineteenth century. John Barnett took passage to the U.S.A. when he was twenty years old and, after a succession of adventures, eventually founded the Barnett-Xavier publishing house with his friend Barnaby Xavier.
John always encouraged his son to think of himself as an Irishman, and behave accordingly. When the system of citizen registration was established by law in 1956, John was one of the first men to enter his children’s name in the Foreign Births Entry Book at the Irish consulate. Heeding his father’s words, Simon did the same thing when his own daughter was born.
As she grew older and the world became a smaller place, the Barnetts were glad they had taken the trouble to do this. For they saw times were changing and with dual nationality their daughter would have the world at her feet.
Rosa dated many young men, before, during and after college. However, it was not until she met Donald Jenkinson that her parents began to hope for more than a casual relationship. Don’s clan was a cocktail of second generation Irish and French. The more successful members of the tribe were well known faces in Susan and Simon’s circle of friends.
At thirty years of age, Don already had an MBA from Harvard Business School, and a first class brain to back it up. The family business was electronics and the word was Don, although not the eldest son, was the heir apparent to the Jenkinson Empire. It was whispered the Jenkinsons subscribed to the Rothschild tradition of choosing a successor. This was based on ability rather than the law of primogeniture.
Rosa had as little interest in outmoded traditions as she had in art history, and was grateful to meet a man with as much drive and ambition as herself. It did not hurt that, in addition to his business acumen, Don had been blessed with blonde good looks and a ripped body.
Rosa and Don quickly became serious and both families were content enough with the way things were playing out. The Barnetts had hoped for blood of a more bluish hue for their only girl. In their turn, the Jenkinsons had hoped for a daughter-in-law with billions. Not because they were short of a few dollars, but because that was the kind of folks they were. In short, both families had hoped for more for their respective offspring, but acknowledged it would still be a respectable match for both children.
As it was the twenty-first century, and even royalty were marrying for love, they did not feel they should, or could, interfere. The Jenkinsons reminded themselves and each other that grandchildren were almost as valuable an asset as a good divorce lawyer, and made Rosa Barnett welcome in their home whenever a besotted Don brought her to visit.
Rosa was madly in love with Donald Jenkinson in the summer of 2007 when his father, Walden, suggested it would be an excellent career move for him to spend a few years in the Republic of Ireland, heading up the sales and marketing division of Jenkinson (Ireland) Inc. Don was grateful to his dad for the trust placed in him, but was reluctant to leave his significant other behind.
After a conversation with his spouse, who once again made reference to the much-anticipated grandchildren, Walden agreed the arrangements necessary for Rosa to be included in the scheme. The Dublin office fell over themselves to assist the CEO of the board, and a role was created for Rosa as assistant to the financial director of Jenkinson (Ireland). Reluctant to let her go, but seeing which way the wind was blowing, Susan and Simon Barnett bravely waved off their only child on her transatlantic adventure.
Don and Rosa eagerly looked forward to their move to Dublin, and the potential leap up the corporate ladder which was bound to follow upon their return to NYC. Within days of arriving in Ireland, Rosa saw how bone weary Larry O’Sullivan was with his position at Jenkinson. The finance director was only twenty months from retirement and, quite frankly, had run out of enthusiasm and energy for the role.
She was quick to assure him that he could count on her for anything required. Larry gladly took Rosa at her word, and the two co-workers tacitly devised a working strategy which suited them both. Larry remained as figurehead of the finance division and retained all the respect and perks to which the role entitled him, while Rosa did all the work. Delighted with the way things had played out, and not for a second begrudging the extra workload, Rosa threw herself into the task of running the finance unit of Jenkinson (Ireland) Inc.
Before the month was out, the remainder of the workforce were left in little doubt as to the new pecking order, but decided against rebelling. This was partly due to Rosa’s relationship with Don, and partly because they were getting a little fed up of Larry and his laidback attitude. Mainly, however, it was because they were Irish, and could not be fecking bothered to get all hot and bothered about the skinny new bird in accounts who was busy throwing her weight around.
This was Rosa’s first insight into working in the Irish system. It wasn’t that backstabbing and bullying did not exist. It was merely that they were not the norm. As long as she did not tread on too many toes, or expect the staff to work long into the night. As long as she ensured the salaries were paid on time, and listened patiently to anybody who was worried about the amount of tax being deducted from their paycheck. As long as she did not query too many of the expense accounts, and pretended not to notice the occasional bottle of wine that appeared, nobody even thought to stage a coup against her.
More quickly than she would ever have thought possible, Rosa carved out a role for herself in the Dublin offices of Jenkinson. She had the comfort of knowing that she was indispensable, not only to Larry and the finance team, but also within the confines of Don’s bed.
For almost two years, Rosa flew high at Jenkinson, the girlfriend of the VP of sales & marketing, and acting chief of the finance department. She had come from three years of working at her dad’s firm to working at her boyfriend’s dad’s firm. She was not to know the respect shown by her co-workers had not been earned. It had merely been given due to her family connections and the role she had assumed.
Rosa was used to getting her own way and made no apology for it. She prided herself on being honest and direct, and on saying it like it was. She knew there were some who regarded her as difficult, exacting, and occasionally hostile, but Rosa shrugged off all criticism and carried on.
On a number of occasions, her mother called to express concern that her daughter was still not engaged and planning a return trip to the Big Apple with a view to making a start on the wedding preparations. Rosa placated her mother’s fears. She assured Susan that she and Don were super-busy and happy, and the engagement would happen when the time was right.
Rosa privately wondered why Don had not yet popped the question. She hoped she was not disappointing him in either the boardroom or bedroom. She genuinely loved the man and fully intended to marry him, although there was time yet before they settled down and started a family. An only child herself, Rosa planned to have three children, two boys and a girl.
After the collapse of Lehman Brothers in 2008 and the subsequent global turmoil that followed, things became tense at Jenkinson for a while, although Rosa and Don were still as tightly knit a unit as they ever had been. They lived in a penthouse apartment in the heart of Dublin City. They had an extensive number of acquaintances, and were invited to many social occasions as befitted the heir apparent of Jenkinson and his wife apparent.
Rosa even struck up a friendship with a girl called Felicity who worked in the HR department at Jenkinson, and who was grateful to finally have someone in finance who actually got things done. Even though Felicity was Irish born, she came of a Jamaican mother and knew what it was like to be viewed as something rather different by the indigenous population. Being a big-hearted woman, she was quick to invite the American to her home, and also to introduce her to other women she felt would enjoy Rosa’s particular brand of humour.
Before long, Rosa found herself with three close girlfriends and a life outside of work and Don. She began to feel highly optimistic about the future, and even started to daydream about the possibility of her and Don settling down in Ireland for a few years and buying a house together.
She was fully aware her partner was feeling a little confined in Dublin, and hankered after the bright lights of New York, although Walden was pleased at the work his son was doing and seemed in no hurry to have him back. Rosa believed the sensible course of action would be for them to invest in a modest sized house, then keep it as a vacation home once they got the call summoning them home to NYC.
Those were the thoughts floating around the back of her mind on the fateful morning during the early weeks of summer 2009. That was the day she walked into Don’s office unannounced, and discovered him fucking, Linda, the senior credit controller, on his desk. As if that was not enough for her to contend with, three days later Jenkinson announced their intention of pulling out of Ireland due to international market forces, and concentrating their resources elsewhere.
Don admitted he had been seeing Linda for some time, as well as Connie, Mary, Emer and Lourdes. All of the women were employees, and all of them were blonde and curvy, and everything his girlfriend wasn’t.
Felicity confirmed she had heard rumours about Don’s behaviour, but without proof had been afraid to speak up. She was half convinced the gossip was nothing more than an attempt by some of the staff to sabotage the relationship and undermine Rosa. A wretched Rosa told her best friend she was not to blame for Don’s behaviour, and assured her she would have acted in the same way.
Don begged Rosa for another chance. He told her he loved her and had been planning to propose on her birthday. He said his parents were very fond of her and had already suggested a number of honeymoon destinations. Walden had even offered the use of the corporate jet.
When Rosa enquired of the man she had loved so dearly why he felt it necessary to have intercourse with multiple women, Don claimed he was a sex addict. He said he just needed treatment and support and he would be fine. He pointed out they could still have a life together. They could get past this minor glitch. There was no need for Rosa to leave him and throw away all of their hopes and dreams for the future.
Despite her broken heart and humiliation, Rosa knew bullshit when she heard it. She promptly ditched Don and packed her bags. Within a week, she had lost her job, her boyfriend and her home. She found herself sleeping on Felicity’s couch, feeling very much alone in a city where she no longer had any connections to fall back on.
She could have returned to her family on the Upper East Side, for she knew they would have welcomed her with open arms. Instead, nauseous at the idea of encountering any of the Jenkinson clan, and encouraged by her pals to stay, she chose to remain in Dublin and lick her wounds.
In many ways, she had grown to enjoy the place. New Yorkers and Irish folks both spoke very quickly and had little trouble understanding each other. Neither of them was above using profanities, and both had their own expressions, which, once mastered could be used to great effect. After two years, she understood much of the lingo, which was a great relief, not only to her but also to her acquaintances.
For example, Rosa knew that if an Irish person said - ‘Howaya,’ it simply meant ‘Hello’ or possibly ‘How are you?’
She knew that a ‘Hole in the Wall’ was an ATM, and ‘Head’ was a term of endearment for a buddy, as in ‘Howaya, head, how’s it goin’?’
She knew gas was a very different thing in Ireland than in the U.S. In Paddy language, gas meant funny, as in, ‘Bejaysis you’re feckin’ gas, so ye are, ye oul feckin’ hoor.’
A ‘rubber” was not a condom in Ireland. Oh no, it was a pencil eraser! A ‘rubber johnny’, however was a term occasionally used by the natives to describe a condom, although for the life of her, Rosa could not imagine ever asking a potential sexual partner if they had a ‘rubber johnny’ in their wallet.
Most importantly, she understood the meaning of ‘ride’ in Ireland. Back home, where things were more civilised, a ride usually meant a car or lift, as in, ‘Would there be any chance of a ride into town?’ Or ‘Sweet ride!’ In Ireland, if you requested a ride, you would undoubtedly be asking for sex, and no two ways about it. The term was also used to describe an attractive individual, as in, ‘Would ya look at yer wan over there, she’s a little fecking ride, so she is.’
It was completely ridiculous, although she was determined to persevere with her education, and had even taken to keeping a database of Irish slang so she would not get caught out. She was not in love with Dublin or with Ireland for that matter. Yet she felt comfortable enough to stay for a while, and not go rushing back to Susan and Simon with their sympathy, outrage, and general parent-like behaviour.
Within six weeks, she was fortunate enough to find a suitable apartment to rent, as well as secure a well-paid role in the finance department of an investment organisation. Their parent company was an American multinational requiring the quarterly accounts to be presented in U.S. GAAP. The vast majority of the other employees were either American or European.
Rosa soon learned that having neither father nor boyfriend to back her up meant she could no longer do things her own way. Like sharks scenting blood in the water, the established employees took one look at Rosa and determined to cut her off at the knees before she could get too full of herself. Despite this, she refused to be curtailed, for she knew her way was the right one. She was like a heat-seeking missile destroying anybody who got in her way.
Alas for Rosa Barnett, she forgot she was only one person. When her colleagues began to conspire against her, she was soon out of her depth, since the one can only battle the many for so long before the many will prevail.
Before she could be brought down in spirit if not in body, the investment organisation pulled out of Ireland, citing global trends as the reason. Within a matter of weeks, they moved their offices to Eastern Europe, where the natives were content with a significantly lower salary than their Irish counterparts.
Once again, Rosa found herself out of work and vulnerable. Once again, she dusted herself off, shook herself down and, with a twinge in her joints, climbed back on the horse.
This time, she applied for the position of finance manager at the Irish Foundation Trust. She had glowing references as well as dual nationality, and had very little trouble defeating the opposition to get the role, albeit on fifty percent of the salary she had enjoyed at Jenkinson and on a fixed-term contract. She was less than impressed by the terms of her employment, but as jobs of any kind were becoming scarce in Dublin, she decided to suck it up and see how things progressed for a year.
Her parents were pressuring her to return home. Her father wanted her to head up the finance division of Barnett-Xavier Publishing, and her mother had heard of a number of suitable young men whom her daughter might conceivably wish to date. Rosa stood firm. She promised herself she would hold out for one more year before heading back to NY and a life of indulgence and security.
At thirty years of age, Rosa was beginning to understand exactly how privileged she had been, both at home and in the workplace. She could not help asking herself if she had what it took to make it on her own. During her first three months at the Trust, Rosa felt as if her every move was the wrong one. Every decision she made and every action she took seemed to annoy, insult or irritate somebody.
She had even been accused of bullying because she suggested it was unnecessary to have three separate meetings about one simple issue. An issue which, in Rosa’s opinion, could have been dealt with in five minutes by somebody tackling the problem head-on. She could not understand why everybody seemed to pussyfoot around things, trying to be diplomatic and tactful, for all the world as if they were running a summer camp instead of a business, albeit a not-for-profit one.
She spent months desperately trying to drag the Trust into the twenty-first century by implementing new procedures and processes. She tried to make the directors see that if something needed to be done, it did not necessarily have to take two years. There was the faintest hope the goal could be accomplished within three or even six months.
In vain, Rosa requested new, up-to-date technology which would allow projects to be completed in half the time. In vain, she requested additional staff training. Not only in business and communications, but also in IT. In vain, she requested modern photocopiers/printers that could be networked throughout the building. In vain, she requested team-building workshops. In vain, she suggested the Trust’s website be redesigned so it would no longer resemble something kindergarten infants had thrown together while on a sugar high.
At last, after six months of requests, Rosa was told to shut up and go back to her cubicle. The directors politely but firmly suggested she focus on the job for which they had employed her, namely the production of accounts.
Rosa was neither sorry nor surprised when she was informed her contract would not be renewed, and was in some ways relieved. She was tired of Ireland and its inclement weather, and the bureaucratic establishment in which she had been wasting away. She was looking forward to seeing New York and her family again.
She regretted her homecoming would not be under more auspicious circumstances, although admitted it could not be helped. At least she had tried. She had failed miserably, but at least she had done her best to make a go of things. She would miss Felicity and her other girlfriends more than she could say, and felt tearful every time she pictured a future without their comforting presence.
On the day Rosa met Dorothy in the bathroom of the IFT, she had not yet booked her flight. That was because she wanted to say a proper goodbye to Felicity and her other pals, and needed her final pay cheque so she would have the means to buy her ticket.
As soon as she had the funds in her hand, she planned to contact the local goodwill store and tell them to send a van for her stuff if they wanted it. She intended to leave her deposit with the landlord in lieu of her final month’s rent, and catch the first flight out of Dublin to JFK.
Rosa had no clue what made her pause and even contemplate speaking to Dorothy, who was clearly a woman of odd behaviour and even odder beliefs. Apart from a spot of packing, Rosa had no plans for the afternoon. In a moment of impulse, she agreed to accompany the little blonde woman to her apartment on Charlotte Quay.
Once there, she discovered the rumours circulating around IFT were indeed true. Dorothy was vastly wealthy, albeit floundering somewhat due to the unfamiliarity of her circumstances. Rosa had no wealth to speak of and, after a lifetime with Simon and years with Don, was not used to that state of affairs either. Even after four weeks with Dorothy, she was not certain whether or not she had made the correct decision.
She was content enough with the job and earning a good salary, which meant she could live more comfortably during her time in Ireland. But to what end? She was still a wage slave, a salary woman. She should be back home trying to carve out a place for herself in the Barnett-Xavier Publishing House so when her dad retired in a few years’ time, she would be poised to take over.
Rosa was well aware she would never make her fortune working for somebody else, and Dorothy had been quick to agree with her. After hearing her story, Dorothy had been quick to agree with much of what Rosa said. In some ways, she even encouraged her to return home saying, as a parent herself, she felt enormous sympathy for Susan and Simon who had been without their girl for so long.
Even after all that, there was something inside Rosa that physically prevented her from walking away. Whenever she thought of catching a plane and travelling in a westerly direction for six hours, never to return, she experienced a tugging sensation around her rib cage.
Even as she made up her mind to reject any offer the little blonde might make, the feeling in her ribs grew ever more powerful, and the tugging grew stronger, until she felt as if she was unable to breathe.
After trying and failing to turn Dorothy down no fewer than three times, Rosa eventually gave in and accepted the role of her assistant for a trial period. Then she went to call a delighted Felicity and tell her all about her crazy day, her unusual new employer, and how she would be staying in Ireland after all.
As soon as Rosa stopped fighting, the tugging sensation ceased. It was replaced by a sensation of lightness and wellbeing. It was a long time before she shared that feeling with another person. But for the rest of her life, Rosa Barnett never forgot how she had been tempted to walk away that day, and how an invisible force seemed to hold her back, and how the course of her life soon changed beyond all recognition.
