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To Dorothy and Rosa’s relief, the 911 and Merc came back from their respective garages in full working order. Ahmed and Brian arranged with the Falcon management company to have another camera installed in the underground garage. One that would point directly at Dorothy’s two spaces. She got into the habit of always testing her brakes before she drove off, although she insisted on continuing to drive. She was determined not to give into the Sick Puppy, as Rosa called him.
‘Rose, if I show fear, he will have won. If he’s getting his kicks from all this, and it’s safe to assume he is, then me sitting at home like a scaredy cat is playing right into his hands,’ she protested, when her assistant begged her to remain safely indoors.
Rosa reluctantly conceded that becoming a prisoner in her own home was neither desirable nor practical, but nonetheless begged Dorothy to take all necessary precautions. She somehow procured a can of mace and insisted her employer never leave the apartment without it.
Dorothy capitulated and took to carrying the miniature canister everywhere she went. She was privately of the opinion if the Sick Puppy should happen to get close enough for her to actually use the spray, it would in all likelihood be too late anyway. Still, knowing it was to hand offered a measure of reassurance and if it made Rosa and Glenda feel better, she was more than willing to carry it.
In addition to her lethal spray, she agreed to only drive during the hours of daylight. If she was leaving the apartment after dark, she got into the habit of always taking a taxi. This would collect and deliver her back to the main door of her building. Once there, Ahmed or Brian’s reassuring presence would be waiting to escort her from the car and accompany her upstairs.
Rosa was not in favour of Dorothy using a standard taxi service, although this problem was quickly resolved. She still had a number for Eamonn, the chauffeur who had delivered her to the airport a couple of times in what was starting to feel like a different lifetime.
Eamonn and his two brothers jointly owned the chauffeuring firm, which offered a choice of three luxury vehicles. Dorothy’s favourite was the E-Class Mercedes limo Eamonn usually piloted. During the dark December evenings, she did her best to maintain a normal lifestyle. She was often to be found in the back of Eamonn’s flash motor, on her way to some Christmas party or another. Some, but by no means all of the functions were low-key affairs, where she was merely expected to show her face for an hour or two and sip a glass of wine.
When one of the children’s charities invited her to make a presentation at their annual fundraiser, she was initially reluctant. They persuaded her that all she would have to do was present a plaque to the outgoing president and thank her for all her years of hard work. She felt flattered to be asked, and was sure she could handle saying a few words of thanks.
She toddled along to the event happily enough, not wearing a red dress, of course, but suitably attired in a little Victoria Beckham number. She sustained a terrible shock when she discovered that not only was she the guest of honour - due to a major donation from her gambling proceeds - but also that she had been seated at the top table.
She gulped down the first glass of wine and resolved to be more careful about what invitations she accepted in the future. Dear Lord, thank you for guiding me to wear the posh frock, even if it is a little understated compared to what some of the others are wearing. I hope they don’t think I’m vanilla or white bread because I’m not bang on trend with a piece of frilly red ribbon tied around my tits and ass.
As vanilla and white bread were favourite adjectives of Rosa’s, Dorothy had quickly adopted them for her own usage. She noticed her siblings, children, and on occasion even her mother had also embraced them. Bel frowned when she heard her using the terms, and suggested it might be better for her not to become enamoured of New York slang, since using the vocabulary was not going to endear her to Dublin ‘society’.
Dorothy was still trying to work out what that meant exactly. She felt she was spending a considerable amount of time in Dublin society, which thankfully was keeping her busy and helping to distract from her stalking troubles.
She was feted at the gala dinners and fundraisers she attended, and could not help but enjoy it. It was a real novelty to be invited to such events, even if the organisers were only after her for a donation. At the fundraising dinner the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul was hosting, she was delighted to bump into Rhona Sinclair.
Her pal was there as a guest of one of the directors, and not representing the Rape Crisis Centre. She was always easy to spot in a crowd because of her mass of black hair and shiny dark skin. As soon as she was able to extricate herself from the garrulous woman who had cornered her, Dorothy made her way across to the other side of the room.
Rhona had also been cornered, but not by a woman. A rather mousey little man with a goatee was gazing rapturously at her, and doing his best to engage her in conversation about the plight of the white rhino.
Rhona was looking incredibly voluptuous in a slinky emerald green frock that made her bottom and boobs look enormous. Dorothy had seen the other woman a couple of times since they had returned from Spain, but had not laid eyes on her since the onset of her stalker troubles.
She was thrilled to have found a familiar face in the crowd, although this positive emotion was tempered by a twinge of dread. Now she was back on Rhona’s radar, she would have to confess all the gory details regarding the Sick Puppy. Still, that could wait until they were in private. There was no point in upsetting her in the middle of a party.
Dorothy extracted Rhona from the white rhino man by the simple expedient of taking her friend by the arm and pulling her away. She flashed a smile at the mousey man as she did so, explaining she urgently needed to speak to Rhona about a delicate woman’s matter. She left him disappointed, but resigned to a party without Rhona’s cleavage to admire.
Once the two women had tucked themselves away in a corner of the room, Dorothy explained to Rhona that she was on target to move to the new house before Christmas. She followed this news with an invitation to lunch, or even to stay over for a few days if she could manage it, since there was ample space for guests.
After a momentary hesitation, Rhona said she would be able to join the festivities at Howth for the entire Christmas period, if convenient. Her mother was intending to spend the holidays in London with her youngest daughter and new grandchild, meaning she would be at something of a loose end, and had not yet made any firm plans.
Dorothy was in the middle of expressing her delight at this proposal when Rhona’s next words floored her. The other woman said they might not have too many more opportunities to meet up for a while. It transpired there were plans afoot for her to spend a year in her mother’s homeland of Mozambique.
She had been lucky enough to obtain a twelve-month contract with a charity. Her role would be to oversee the creation of a women’s centre and train others to run it. She was due to leave for Africa at the end of January. She promised to keep in touch by phone and e-mail whenever possible. When Dorothy tentatively enquired if there was such a thing as broadband in Mozambique, Rhona laughed.
‘They got it a few years ago. I’ll be there under the umbrella of one of the international aid agencies. They definitely have internet access, so don’t worry about that. Of course, it won’t be like it is here. If the Wi-Fi signal isn’t strong, I might only be online once a week or a couple of times a month. I won’t really know until I get there. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me every five minutes. It’s bound to be a bit crazy out there.’
Dorothy desperately tried to digest this development, and felt overwhelmingly sad at the thought of losing somebody she considered a good friend. Rhona saw something of the other woman’s thoughts on her face, and struggled to find a way to distract her. She managed this effectively when she demanded to know where Dorothy’s date was so she could be introduced.
‘Eh, I’m actually still single, and I don’t have an escort this evening,’ Dorothy explained rather sheepishly.
‘But you’re one of the richest women in the country,’ Rhona was aghast. ‘You’ll have the sharks circling soon, Dottie love. You can’t just go around being single, you know. You’re not a man. It may not be right or fair, but it’s the reality of the situation.’
‘I know,’ Dorothy hung her head slightly. ‘It’s just this year is turning out to be one of the best of my life, and I don’t want to spoil it by taking up with a man. In my experience, they’re inclined to be more trouble than they’re worth.’
Rhona gawked at her. ‘Excuse my French, love, but what the fuck sort of blokes have you dated in the past?’
‘Morons and losers,’ was the sorrowful response. ‘Not to mention unloving, unfaithful, dirty, arrogant, lying, egotistical warmongers.’
‘Who was the unfaithful one?’ Rhona looked interested.
‘Declan, the twins’ dad.’
‘Who was the moron?’
‘Victor, my ex-fiancé.’
‘Was he normal stupid, or exceptionally?’
‘Exceptionally.’
‘How so?’
‘When we first got engaged, he started talking about us having a baby at some point in the future. I told him if we were going to consider it, we had better sit down and discuss it seriously and come up with a plan. I pointed out I wasn’t getting any younger, and we couldn’t afford to hang about because the longer we waited to get pregnant, the higher the risk we ran of having a child with special needs, or even a Downs baby.’
‘That sounds okay so far. What happened?’
‘He told me a few of the men in his car club had children with Down’s syndrome. Victor said if it wasn’t a problem for them, there was no reason to think it would be a problem for us.’
Rhona sat down very suddenly and opened and closed her mouth a couple of times for good measure. ‘You’re making it up,’ she stated flatly.
‘If only it was a lie,’ Dorothy replied sadly, and promptly took a seat next to her.
‘I can understand why that might turn you off men for life,’ Rhona said quietly. ‘The Lord knows that sort of fuckwit is enough to make any woman question her choices. But honestly, Dottie, it’s time to move on now. I can understand why you didn’t bring a guy to the villa for the fortnight we were there. That sort of holiday would have been too much too soon.
‘My friend, Poppy, once went away for a week with a new boyfriend, and it was an utter disaster for them both. They broke up as soon as the plane landed back in London. But that doesn’t mean you should never go on a date again. How will you ever know you like a man if you don’t give him a chance? Surely there must be somebody you have your eye on? A guy who isn’t a complete moron. One who knows how to treat a woman?’
‘Well...’ Dorothy replied meekly.
‘There is! Who is he?’ Rhona demanded.
‘My solicitor. Nicholas Kerrigan is his name. He’s very attractive and he’s a clever man as well. I’m not positive, although I think he might like me. That’s the rumour anyway.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ Rhona exclaimed. ‘A girl could always use a good lawyer. Are you expecting to see him over Christmas?’
‘No. I invited him to see the new house, but he’s going to spend the festive season with his family in Malta. His mother hasn’t been well, and he doesn’t want to let her down. I’m expecting to see him at Claudia Healy’s New Year’s Eve party. He told me he’d be back in time for it and said he was looking forward to seeing me there. Then he sort of gave me a speaking look.’
‘Wow,’ Rhona sounded impressed, ‘a clever, handsome, lawyer who loves his mother. What more could a girl ask for?’
Dorothy giggled.
‘Now promise me, Dottie,’ Rhona said seriously. ‘If the occasion presents itself, promise me you won’t turn him down. Give the bloke a chance for goodness sake. Are we agreed?’
‘Yes, Rhona, we’re agreed,’ Dorothy replied in a small voice. ‘When I go to Claudia’s party, I promise to keep my mind and heart open to the possibility of a new relationship. If I meet a man I like, I promise to give him a chance.’
‘Good girl,’ Rhona smiled warmly and bestowed a hug on the smaller woman. ‘Let’s go and find a bottle of wine and you can tell me a few horror stories about Declan and Victor.’
‘Not so fast young lady,’ Dorothy grabbed the other woman’s arm. ‘Where’s your boyfriend, seeing as how you’re such an expert in the field of relationships?’
Rhona grimaced and glanced around as if she expected to be overheard. ‘I don’t know what it is, Dottie,’ she said sadly. ‘I no sooner find a man I think is right for me than I somehow manage to scare him off twice as fast. It’s as if I’m jinxed.’
‘Do you try to move too quickly? Or is it more complicated?’ Dorothy enquired, grateful for this insight into Rhona’s love life.
‘If anything, I tend to be overly cautious and move very slowly,’ her friend replied thoughtfully. ‘My mother thinks I project an air of being disinterested that men find off-putting. Needless to say, the whole honesty thing doesn’t help either.’
Dorothy sensed there was more to the situation than her friend was willing to divulge. She tried a tentative push with her Dorothy Feelers and was rewarded for her efforts. ‘Did something happen when you were very young?’ she asked. ‘Did you meet a man you really liked when you were a girl? Is it possible you’ve been judging every other man by him? Is it something like that?’
Rhona gawked at her friend in astonishment. ‘How did you know that?’ she demanded.
‘Wild guess,’ Dorothy shrugged. She did her best to appear innocent and not at all like a psychic.
Rhona held up her left wrist where a silver scar glistened against her chocolate coloured skin. ‘X marks the spot,’ she said ruefully.
Dorothy had noticed the scar on a number of occasions when she had been swimming with Rhona in Spain, but had never gotten round to asking about it. Now she saw it was indeed in the shape of an X.
‘When I was a little girl, I was at a party and fell out of a tree and did this,’ Rhona sounded sad. ‘A boy who was a lot older than me cleaned it and bandaged it. I’m not sure why. There were plenty of women there who would have helped me, but he insisted on doing it. It was as if he didn’t trust anybody else to get it right.’
‘What was his name?’ Dorothy enquired curiously.
Rhona smiled a secret smile as she replied, ‘They called him Damerel.’
‘That’s an unusual name.’
‘He hails from an unusual family,’ was the softly spoken response.
‘Notwithstanding the unusual family, Damerel sounds a mite bossy,’ Dorothy commented dryly.
Rhona chortled and said, ‘I bumped into him about ten years ago at a wedding. Based on the encounter, I think it’s safe to assume he grew up to be a control freak.’
‘Did anything happen between you? Weddings are notoriously romantic events, or so I’ve been led to believe,’ Dorothy prodded.
‘He wanted something to happen,’ Rhona spoke hesitantly. ‘I held back because I could see that he was after a hookup and not much else. I couldn’t bear the idea of being nothing more than a one-night stand. Besides, I had a date with me, and I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everybody by dumping him for another guy.’
‘Have you ever regretted not throwing the date over and taking a chance on Damerel?’ Dorothy probed.
‘Every day for the past ten years,’ Rhona sighed wistfully. ‘I promised myself if the chance ever presented itself again, I would throw caution to the wind and go for it. Needless to say, it never did. I have no idea where he is now or what he’s doing with his life.
‘I’m sure he’s still single, because I would definitely have heard about a marriage, although he may very well have a partner. I wouldn’t blame him for keeping mum about that because families can be such a pain about such matters, and start pressuring one about the possibility of marriage from the get go.’
Rhona paused and shook her head, clearly pondering the idiosyncrasies of her relations. Dorothy held her breath until the other woman began to speak again.
‘What I do know for certain is whenever I meet a new man, I always compare how I feel when I’m with him, with how I felt on the day that boy bandaged my wrist. Suffice to say, every man I’ve been in a relationship with since then has fallen short. I suppose you think I’m nuts.’
‘I think you had a profound soul mate experience when you were a little girl,’ Dorothy replied firmly. ‘That doesn’t make you mad, Rhona. It makes you unlucky.’
‘It does?’ the other woman was clearly surprised.
‘Of course it does!’ Dorothy poked her in the arm. ‘You made a deep connection to another person at a young age, and it spoiled you for everybody else. Most of us never experience anything even close to that in our lifetime, never mind so early on. What a nightmare for you. The universe really does have a lot to answer for. I hope nothing like that ever happens to me.’
Rhona looked more relaxed when she heard this, and even smiled a little. ‘Do you have any advice for me?’ she asked.
‘I do,’ Dorothy nodded firmly. ‘If you meet any handsome doctors or aid workers in Africa, my advice is to go for it. Don’t think of it as a long-term thing. Don’t think of them as having to measure up to the boy wonder of your childhood. Think of them as a passing fancy. Something to keep you warm at night. Try that for the year you plan to spend there. By the time you get home, you might see the opposite sex in a different light. You can’t go back and change what happened to you, but you can learn to control it.’ Here she hesitated.
‘What it is?’ Rhona looked intrigued.
‘Ask your guardian angel to suppress the memory of Damerel,’ Dorothy told her earnestly. ‘It will work, but only if you ask. If you don’t ask, you won’t get.’
Rhona looked stunned. ‘My guardian angel?’ she asked faintly.
‘Yes,’ Dorothy nodded decisively. ‘Trust me on this, Rhona. You only need to ask.’
‘Righty ho,’ Rhona whispered. ‘I need to have a chat with my guardian angel and then I need to do a bit of screwing around in Mozambique. Do I have that right?’
‘Spot on,’ Dorothy nodded cheerfully. ‘Don’t forget to pack plenty of condoms. They might not be so easy to come by over there. Shall we see if we can find that wine now?’
A somewhat bemused Rhona volunteered to track down the alcohol. Dorothy watched her pal’s bum swaying as she made her way across the room. The story of Damerel was an intriguing one, although she genuinely pitied her friend. That sort of cosmic connection was not to be taken lightly.
She idled away a few minutes wondering what it would be like to feel as if you were part of another human being. To feel as if you truly belonged to them, heart, body and soul, and vice versa. It was impossible to imagine such a thing. She gave up on the task and did a spot of mingling while she waited for Rhona.
She soon encountered Dee, the manager of the Irish Foundation Trust. Dee politely kissed Dorothy’s cheek and wished her a merry Christmas. After making social chit chat for two minutes, Dorothy thanked the other woman wholeheartedly for introducing her to Rosa. Then she faithfully promised to see about the dosh for the needy children’s fund as soon as Christmas was over and she was safely settled in her new home. Dorothy left Dee looking as if she had swallowed a lemon.
Rosa laughed with pleasure when her boss recounted the story the following Monday morning, and promised to take care of it in January.
‘Next year is gonna be a busy one for us, Boss,’ she commented cheerfully. ‘I hope we’ll be able to fit in all these things we’ve been putting on the long finger, as your mom would say.’
Dorothy laughed along with her assistant and secretly hoped she would be able to derive any pleasure at all from 2012, given the sinister occurrences of the recent past.
She banished the fearful thought to a dark corner of her mind and reminded herself that Rhona would be making up one of the Christmas visitors this year. There was no doubt it would all be wonderful if she could only stop worrying and focus on enjoying herself.
Here ends Book 2 of the Miracles and Millions Saga
