A Time for Friends (24 page)

Hilary laughed. ‘I’ll phone Sue, all right, for all the good it will do. Give your mother my love and have a good weekend with her.’

‘I will. Bye, ducks.’ And then he was gone, like a whirling dervish, coat flaps flying open behind him, scarf blowing in the wind as he crossed Illuminations’ car park to his
shining new pride and joy. He waved as he drove past and she waved back before turning to the paperwork on her untidy desk.

Hilary sighed at the mess of papers that needed her attention. She was not an organized person, not like Jonathan whose desk in his home office was immaculate. Everything filed neatly and
colour-coded. It was time he came and did one of her office tidies. He did it every six months or so and would stand over her until every item on her desk was cleared and order ruled once more,
until a lack of time and organization would start the whole process off again. Hilary had a secretary who was so busy with Illuminations business she didn’t have time to keep her boss’s
desk as tidy as each of them would have liked.

Perhaps Hilary could come in for an hour on Sunday and put manners on the place, she decided, pulling out the file for Horizon House to remind herself of the lighting layout. She was studying it
intently when her direct line rang. Her husband’s number flashed up.

‘Hi, sorry, I’m only getting a chance to ring you now. We had the managers over from Dubai and Moscow for a meeting and then I took them to lunch and you know yourself,’ he
sighed. ‘How did Mam get on?’

‘She’s got an appointment in two weeks because of being on the steroids and antibiotics; they really muck up her blood.’ Hilary was not in the mood to hear about Niall’s
busy day. She had enough work of her own to deal with.

‘Rats!’ he groaned. ‘I won’t be here. I have that trip to Canada to visit the concessions in Montreal, Ottawa, Halifax and Winnipeg, remember? That’s a nuisance.
Can we reschedule for when I’m back?’

‘No!’ she said irritably. ‘That’s not an option with warfarin. And I have a client consult that morning so Sue’s going to have to do it. I’ve been asking and
asking you to get in touch with her about your mother’s appointments and you haven’t and I’m sick of it,’ she snapped.

‘Keep your hair on, I’ll ring her when I get a chance,’ he growled.

‘You’ve been saying that for ages, Niall. If you don’t ring her I will,’ she warned.

‘I hear you,’ he retorted. ‘I’ll call her today. Anything else strange or startling?’ he said, changing the subject.

‘No, don’t forget Sophie’s friends are coming to stay on a sleepover tomorrow so I have to do a shop later. Are you coming home or going straight to the gig tonight?’

‘I’ll shower and change here and go from work; no point in getting stuck in the rush hour twice. So don’t worry about dinner for me.’

‘I wasn’t,’ she said drily. ‘I was going to order a Chinese – I haven’t time to cook.’

‘OK, look, I have to go. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get home.’

‘OK, bye,’ Hilary said unenthusiastically and hung up.

Don’t worry about dinner for me
. Niall was a hoot, she scowled. Did he really think she was sitting in her office worrying about what to give him for his dinner? Friday night was
Chinese night. The only cooked meal he’d be getting this weekend was on Sunday, unless he cooked it himself. Sophie wanted to order in pizza for her friends so Millie and she and Niall could
have pizza too. Hilary was planning to cook two joints of roast on Sunday so she could do a dinner for Gran H and her own parents as well, with enough for a dinner for them on Monday. She’d
stock up on a few Butler’s Pantry meals for her freezer the next time she was passing one of their branches. That would give her a bit of leeway even if it was expensive.

Niall
had
better ring his sister, Hilary scowled, or Ms Susan Hammond Kelly would be getting an irate phone call from her and she didn’t care whose feelings would be hurt.

Niall scrolled down through his phone until he got to his sister’s number. He sighed deeply, tapping his pen impatiently against his desk as he waited for Sue to answer.
He was exasperated having to make the call. He knew his sister of old, knew that she would make excuses about being ‘up to her eyes’, saying she couldn’t take days off ‘at
the drop of a hat’. And ‘couldn’t their mother not take a taxi to her various appointments’. The phone rang out and went into voicemail as he knew it would.

‘Sue, it’s me. Please call me back sooner rather than later. Thanks,’ he said crisply. He deliberately didn’t say why he wanted her to ring him back and left the message
suitably vague hoping that the request might make her think something was up and she would ring to see what was wrong.

They weren’t close siblings. Sue was ten years older than him. His mother had suffered several miscarriages before conceiving him. Sue, who had been especially spoilt by their father, had
not been impressed with the mewling little stranger who had taken her parents’ focus off her. She had left home to share a flat with friends when he was eight and they had nothing in common
except their parents. After their father’s sudden death she had been happy to let Hilary and Niall provide her mother with the comfort and practical aid that Margaret so badly needed.
Gradually Margaret had come to depend on them, taking great solace in the company of her grandchildren. Sue had been happy that she was able to continue to live her life unhampered by the needs of
her aged mother. Her free and easy life was coming to an end, Niall thought grimly. Hilary was generally very easygoing but when she got a bee in her bonnet about something it was time to look
out.

Sue Hammond Kelly’s’ lips tightened as she listened to her brother’s message. What now? she thought irascibly. Was something wrong with their mother or did
Niall want something of her? His message was very ambiguous, but he sounded bossy rather than stressed. One way of finding out what was up, she decided, punching in a number on her office
landline.

‘Hello.’ She heard her mother’s voice with a flash of relief. Margaret was at home in her own house so all must be well.

‘How are things, Mam?’ she asked casually. ‘How’s the chest infection?’

‘Ah, Sue, I’m not too bad at all. How are things with you, dear?’

‘Oh I’m up to my ears as usual. Mr Barrington is phenomenally busy. He’s developing a big shopping centre in the Midlands and is trying to get planning issues sorted and
it’s all go, I can tell you. I never have a minute.’

‘Ah God love you. Poor Hilary is up to her eyes as well. We couldn’t go for our usual coffee after my clinic appointment because she had to go to a meeting,’ Margaret
confided.

‘Poor girl,’ Sue yawned. ‘And how did you get on at the clinic? Did you get four weeks out of it?’

‘Unfortunately not,’ sighed her mother. ‘The steroids and antibiotics have it all out of kilter so I’ve to go back in two weeks’ time.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Sue said sympathetically. ‘Look, I’ll pop over some night after work for an hour or two, so take it easy. I’ll bring some pesto chicken soup
and some brown rice. That will build you up. Talk soon, Mam. Cheers.’ She hung up and stared out of the window. She knew now why Niall had phoned. He needed her to bring their mother to the
clinic. For some reason Hilary mustn’t be able to do it. Hilary was her own boss. It was much easier for her to take time off than it was for Sue. Mr Barrington
hated it
when she
took days off. He even rang her at home, often at ten or eleven at night, wanting her to organize something for him that couldn’t wait until the morning.

Hilary had a much easier life than she had, with her big house and garden, and her two bright children. Margaret thought she was the bee’s knees and was always going on about Hilary and
Niall’s great careers. And she never shut up about Sophie and Millie. It drove Sue up the wall. Her mother didn’t mean it, she hoped, but it was almost as though subconsciously Margaret
thought Sue was a lesser woman for not having children.

All this fuss about kids was so irritating. Sue had always been upfront about taking the responsible decision not to have children that she didn’t
want
. And
still
society
pilloried her, she thought crossly, remembering all the times relatives and neighbours, and indeed her parents, had asked when she was going to have a child. And wasn’t she leaving it a
little late?

‘I don’t want sprogs,’ she would say bluntly and see the faintly incredulous expressions on their faces.

‘Ah you’ll feel differently when you hold your own in your arms,’ or similar was thrown back at her. Eventually she’d told people that Cormac, her husband, had had the
snip and it just wasn’t going to happen.

It had been a relief when Niall had married Hilary and they’d had children. It had taken a lot of pressure off her. Sue liked the freedom being childless gave her. She could do her yoga,
and Pilates, and hill walking, and keep the figure she worked so hard to maintain. She didn’t have one spare ounce of flat on her body, she thought proudly. Not bad for a woman in her early
fifties. Her only vice was smoking, but smoking helped keep her weight down. She could mix with the movers and shakers and the political elite her boss socialized with, and be completely confident
that she looked her absolute best. But it was hard work. Niall needn’t think he was going to start dumping their mother on her. Let
him
take the morning off if his precious Hilary
couldn’t. After all she was only
pretending
to be a career woman with her itty-bitty lighting carry-on. Sue
was
one.

Jonathan hummed to himself as he cruised along the M50 in his brand-new Beemer. He was dying to take his mother for a spin in it. She’d be chuffed, he thought proudly. He
was fairly chuffed himself. He smiled, loving the smooth way the car purred along in the fast lane. Had he ever thought when he started out working for himself that he would be able to afford a
brand-new car? And a BMW at that.

The last ten years of slogging and studying and double jobbing had paid off and he couldn’t be more pleased. For the first time in his life, he was in a very confident and comforting
place. He was successful in his chosen career, he was happy in his own skin and finally after years of meeting Mr Wrong he was convinced he had found Mr Right. The new Millennium couldn’t
have started off any better. Maybe after all the brickbats life had thrown at him it was now his time to fly high.

It hadn’t been easy, and that was what made this new phase of his life all the richer. He had enrolled in as many extracurricular interior design courses as he could manage and studied
hard. His experience with his homophobic boss, at the beginning of the nineties, had been the catalyst for all the changes in his career. That very difficult time had been a blessing in disguise
really, he reflected, gearing down to queue to pay his toll.

Jonathan sat, engine idling, while the driver two cars ahead fumbled for coins, remembering how Hannah often said that life’s challenges were always a doorway to a ‘growth
experience’ and that it was the way the challenge was met that was just as important to the soul as the challenge itself. Well he had certainly met Gerard Hook’s challenge head on,
dealt with him and moved on. It was that particular episode that had been his motivation to go for every single work interview he could, to get out of Hook’s department.

Taking a career break had certainly been a leap of faith. But something else that Hannah had said to him during one of his counselling sessions had resonated deeply with him. She had told him
that when someone knew that something was very right for them and they stepped away from the security of all they knew
that
was when doors opened for them. And open for him they certainly
had, Jonathan acknowledged, remembering that nerve-wracking first month when he had taken his career break and there had been no monthly salary to pay his mortgage. But that very week he’d
been paid handsomely for the refurbishment of a large three-storey house in Ranelagh – owned by his ex-landlord – that was divided into five one-bedroom flats. He had redesigned the
five living quarters in different styles and colours, depending on where they were in the house and what their aspect was. Then he had got a professional photographer to shoot the end products and
he couldn’t have been more pleased with the results. His subsequent new glossy portfolio looked most professional and prospective new clients were impressed. James, the landlord, also owned
two adjoining B&B’s near Liberty Hall in the city centre, which he wanted to upgrade into a boutique hotel. He had offered the interior design job to Jonathan and Jonathan had given the
lighting contract to Hilary.

It was their first collaboration and it sealed their friendship. They bounced ideas off each other, learned from each other, and had a lot of fun in the process. Slowly and steadily
Jonathan’s list of clients grew, as word of mouth continued to put business his way. The economy was booming, development was rampant and Hilary and he were perfectly placed to take advantage
of the boom. He couldn’t have wished for more in his career. All he’d needed to make life perfect was a companion to share it with.

This time he was not going to rush into anything, Jonathan promised himself, knowing his tendency to fall headlong into a relationship, give his heart and soul and more, and be brought crashing
to earth when it all ended in tears. ‘You should strive to have more
equality
in your relationships, Jonathan,’ Hannah would advise him patiently when he would come for
counselling, and to pour his heart out to her after yet another heartbreak. ‘Stop giving
everything
. Allow yourself to be the recipient too, so that it’s not all one-sided.
Expect more. You are
worthy,
Jonathan, so worthy of all that you desire.’ How often had she said it to him?

And that was the key, he admitted. Even all these years after his childhood abuse he felt, deep down, that he wasn’t
deserving
of goodness and until he let go of that mindset he
would never be open to the right relationship. Jonathan knew Hannah was right. But he fell into the trap of being the giver every time because he was so desperate to find Mr Right. He wanted a
relationship like Kenny and Russell had. He wanted the same sort of loving, nurturing, restorative bond Hilary and Niall, and many of his friends, shared. He wanted not to be lonely any more.