Changing Places (6 page)

‘So I think this is the perfect sponsorship for Cauldwell’s Lingerie,’ Jill said in closing. ‘The Miss Ireland competition has everything
Cauldwell’s are looking for in a campaign.’ She ticked the points off on her fingers. ‘Very high profile, long duration and it exactly targets the lingerie market. What do you
think?’ She looked around at their faces.

‘It’s good,’ Michelle said cautiously, not quite meeting Jill’s eye.

Jill blinked. ‘Good?’

‘Yeah,’ Gerry agreed, ‘but I think Vinny’s idea is better.’

Jill swallowed hard. ‘Vinny’s come up with an idea? He never mentioned it to me.’

‘He did try,’ Rebecca rushed to his defence, ‘but you weren’t in.’

Ollie nodded in agreement. ‘So he gathered us together because he knew he’d be out for the rest of the day and he wanted to see what we thought.’

Jill forced a smile that was more like a grimace. ‘Well, is someone going to tell me about this wonderful idea?’

Gerry coughed nervously before starting to explain. His nervousness disappeared almost instantly as he got carried away by his own enthusiasm, and as he talked Jill could understand why.
‘So, to summarise: by sponsoring a breast cancer charity, Cauldwell’s will get a very high profile, target women specifically, and I think the worthiness of the sponsorship speaks for
itself.’

With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Jill realized that Vinny’s idea left hers for dead. ‘Well,’ she said when Gerry had finished, ‘that sounds like a winner to
me.’

A wave of relief went around the table. ‘You like it?’ Michelle asked.

‘It’s brilliant,’ Jill announced. ‘I think we should put a presentation together for Sue right away.’

Ollie frowned. ‘Shouldn’t we wait until Vinny gets back?’

Jill fixed him with a steady gaze. ‘We work as a team here, Ollie. Vinny told you the idea so that it could be progressed. Let’s not waste any more time. Our customer has been
waiting long enough.’

For the next hour they discussed the charities they could approach and knocked together a shortlist to put before Sue. ‘Right, guys, thanks.’ Jill stood up and gathered her papers.
‘I’ll let you know what the boss says. If she’s happy with it, we’ll take it to the customer tomorrow.’

‘Will Vinny be doing the presentation?’ Rebecca asked.

‘Not my decision, but of course, I will suggest that.’ Jill nodded at the others and left the room.

She was back in her office before she let herself breathe again. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard!’ she groaned as she slipped behind her desk, sat down and kicked off her shoes. She felt
completely crushed by that little slimeball and he hadn’t even been at the meeting. The realization that Vinny’s idea was way better than her own was devastating. For the first time,
Jill began to question her ability. Maybe she wasn’t quite as good as she thought.

‘Rubbish!’ she admonished herself, recalling the dozens of excellent campaigns she’d come up with over the years. Maybe she was just tired or needed a break. Or maybe there
were too many distractions in her life. She thought of Andy and how he’d made her late for work this morning. That wouldn’t be happening again, she promised herself. She was going to
have to watch Vinny Gray. She had underestimated him. Now she’d have to praise him lavishly to Sue, insist that he do the presentation to Cauldwell’s and watch her back every minute of
every day from now on.

Despite her own worries, Jill did remember to phone Rachel as she’d promised Anna. ‘How are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine,’ Rachel said, sounding anything but.

‘Let’s go for a pint,’ Jill suggested.

‘Can’t. Gary’s out.’

‘Then I’ll come over.’

‘Oh – okay then.’

Ignoring the lack of enthusiasm in her cousin’s voice, Jill hung up and hotfooted it over to Malahide, stopping at an off-licence on the way. After some hesitation, she bought two bottles
of wine.

When Rachel opened the door, she raised her eyebrows at the two bottles. ‘It is only Monday, Jill.’

‘One is non-alcoholic,’ Jill told her, as Rachel led the way into the living room.

‘Ah.’

‘Now, where’s the corkscrew?’

‘Anna shouldn’t have told you,’ Rachel said when they were seated with glasses in their hands.

‘She didn’t have to,’ Jill said gently. ‘I’d already guessed. But why the secrecy?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I just haven’t found the right moment to tell Gary.’

‘Don’t you think he’ll be happy about it?’

‘Yes, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him. Now, how are things with you?’

Jill allowed her cousin to dismiss the subject. She knew from experience that Rachel wouldn’t talk until she was ready. ‘I’ve had a pig of a day. I really screwed up.’
She prattled on about Cauldwell’s and Vinny and watched her cousin relax before her eyes. It never ceased to amaze her that Rachel seemed to accept her career without question but resented
Anna’s, visibly bristling when her sister even mentioned her job. But then Rachel had always been a bit in awe of her older sister. Jill sometimes thought that the only reason Rachel had got
married and had Alex was because she wanted to beat her sister to it. She seemed to need to be first at something. Of course, Anna was completely oblivious to this.

Rachel had abandoned the non-alcoholic wine and gone to make some camomile tea. ‘It calms me down and keeps me from strangling Gary and Alex,’ she joked when she returned.

‘Is Gary still working long hours?’ Jill asked, topping up her own glass.

‘Yeah, never stops, God love him.’

‘You don’t sound very happy about it.’

‘Oh, I just get a bit fed up being on my own all the time.’

‘You need to get out more. Stop depending on Gary for your social life. Do something different.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know – yoga, dance classes, bridge.’

Rachel stared at her. ‘I’m twenty-fucking-eight, Jill. I should be out clubbing, for God’s sake, not playing bridge!’

‘Then do it,’ Jill shot back.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I’m serious. Come out some night with Anna and me. We could make a night of it. It’s been ages.’

Rachel looked dubious at the mention of her sister.

‘Oh, come on,’ Jill urged. ‘It would be fun.’

‘Anna will probably be too busy to go out with us.’

‘Of course she won’t, I’ll ask her. How about Wednesday?’

Rachel looked taken aback. ‘What –
this
Wednesday?’

‘Why not? If Gary’s working you can always get a babysitter.’

Rachel looked vaguely surprised at the idea. ‘I suppose. Linda next door is always offering to look after Alex and he worships her.’

‘There you are then.’ Rachel glanced at her watch and stood up. ‘I’ll call Anna in the morning.’

‘Are you going already?’ Rachel looked disappointed.

‘I need to be in at the crack of dawn tomorrow,’ Jill said, kissing her cousin’s cheek. ‘I have some knives to sharpen. But I’ll call you about the arrangements.
And Rachel?’

‘Yes?’

‘Phone me when you’re ready to talk.’

‘Talk?’

‘About the baby, about Gary.’ Jill shrugged and smiled. ‘Hell, about the price of petrol if you like.’

Rachel hugged her fiercely. ‘Thanks, Jill.’

Anna was waiting outside a small, drab terraced house in Kinsealy at ten o’clock the next morning when her mobile rang. Jill was between meetings and hurriedly filled
Anna in on the proposed night out. Anna agreed readily although her enthusiasm dwindled when she heard her sister was going.

‘It will be fun,’ Jill said firmly and rang off.

Anna had her doubts, but she didn’t have time to think about it right now as the young couple who had come to view number seventeen were getting out of their car.

‘Hello, there,’ she smiled and switched into business mode. ‘Susan?’

The girl nodded. ‘And this is Damien, my boyfriend.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ Anna held out her hand and after a moment’s hesitation the man took it.

Anna withdrew from the limp handshake and turned to open the door. ‘Shall we go in?’ She led the couple around the small house, pointing out the marble fireplace (a very strange
orange colour), the Aga (way too big and imposing for the small, plastic kitchen) and the wonderful storage (dark brown hulking great wardrobes that dwarfed the bedrooms and shut out the natural
light.) ‘Very well maintained,’ she said as they stood in the tiny back garden. Well, that wasn’t a lie. There was sod-all in the garden to maintain!

‘It’s a bit poky,’ the man complained.

‘Oh, but it’s so cosy!’ His girlfriend snuggled in against his arm. ‘I’m sure I could make it into a wonderful little home for us.’

‘It’s overpriced,’ he muttered, moving away from her, ‘and what about that field at the back? They could build a bloody factory there for all we know.’

‘It’s actually zoned as a green area,’ Anna told him with a pleasant smile.

‘Huh, that’s what they say
now
,’ he snorted.

Anna kept the smile fixed firmly on her face. ‘Shall we move on to the next house?’

‘Yes, please.’ Susan beamed at her. ‘It’s in Ashgrove Lane, isn’t it? That’s such a lovely road.’

Her partner frowned. ‘I don’t think we can afford a house in that area.’

‘It’s only five thousand more than this house,’ Anna told them as she locked up and led the way out to her car. ‘The owners want a quick sale.’

‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’ he replied.

Anna suppressed a sigh. ‘Not a thing, I assure you. They’re emigrating and they need to sell up before they can afford to buy a place.’

Poor Susan, Anna thought as she drove the couple down to the next property. There was no way this guy was buying this or any other house. He would come up with every excuse in the book, and
after stringing Susan along for a while he’d dump her and move on to the next unfortunate. Anna had seen it all before. Dublin seemed to be full of women just dying to settle down with their
partners even though they were patently Mr Wrongs. The men, however, were content to stay with their mammies. ‘Do you have your own house to sell, Damien?’

‘Oh no, Damien lives with his parents,’ Susan told her and received a glare from her partner. Anna suppressed a grin as she pulled up outside 42, Ashgrove Lane.

This was going to be a complete waste of time but then that’s what the property world was all about. She’d have these two back on the street in fifteen minutes and then she could
concentrate on the three valuations that had to be done before lunch.

‘I’ll let you wander around on your own,’ she said, ushering them into the hallway. ‘Just shout if you need me.’ She didn’t normally let clients do this but
the house was already empty and she could check back with the office while Damien came up with excuses of why this house wouldn’t suit.

She dialled the number and Val answered in a sing-song voice, ‘Donnelly’s Real Estate, Val speaking, can I help you?’

‘It’s me.’

‘Oh hi, Anna. Any luck offloading that place in Kinsealy?’

‘No chance. I’m in Ashgrove now but I don’t expect a bite here either.’ She lowered her voice. ‘The guy has no intention of buying.’

‘Poor girl,’ Val said, immediately understanding the situation. Like Anna, she’d seen it all before. Sometimes she felt more like a social worker or counsellor than an estate
agent. She was glad she didn’t have to show desperate girls and reluctant boyfriends around properties any more. Running the office suited her much better and Anna was more than capable of
doing the job on her own now. ‘Well, I wouldn’t waste too much time on them. I have a couple more properties for you to value this afternoon.’

Anna frowned. ‘That may be a problem. I have three to do this morning, and then I think Mark was trying to arrange a lunch meeting with Charlie Coleman.’

‘Was he? Hang on, let me check.’

Anna hummed along to ‘Greensleeves’ while she waited.

‘Anna? Yes, Mark says to meet him in Cruzzo’s at twelve-thirty.’

‘Right, then you’d better phone those clients and put them off until tomorrow. I’ve a feeling this might be a long lunch.’

‘If Charlie Coleman has his way, you won’t get out of there before three.’

‘You know him? What’s he like?’ Anna was curious about this client that Mark was so keen to impress.

‘Nice lad, something really big in computers – don’t ask me what. Seems to be loaded.’

‘How old?’ Val used the term ‘lad’ for men anywhere between fifteen and fifty.

‘Not much older than you, probably, although he’s a bit thin on top so that makes him look older.’

‘How come you know him?’

‘Oh, his parents live in Malahide and his grandparents before them – lovely family.’

‘Is he married?’

‘I don’t think so. There was some scandal a few years back about him getting a teenager into trouble, but as far as I know he’s still single.’

‘Interesting,’ Anna murmured as she heard Susan and Damien coming back. ‘Look, I’ve got to go, Val. Talk to you later.’ She turned around as the couple joined her.
‘Everything okay?’

Susan looked as if she might burst into tears. ‘It’s really lovely but probably not for us.’

‘Oh?’

‘A bit big for our needs,’ Damien grunted.

‘Just a few square feet bigger than the last house,’ Anna said, holding his gaze.

‘And I’m not keen on the redbrick front.’

‘How unusual, most people love redbrick. Still, to each his own. Sorry you don’t like it.’ She looked at Susan.

‘Oh, I do! Still, it’s important that we buy something we’re both happy with.’ She slipped her arm through Damien’s and gave Anna a brave smile.

‘I’ll drop you back to your car then, but please contact me if there’s anything else I can do for you.’

‘Oh, we will. We’re going to keep looking, aren’t we, Damien? The perfect little place is out there for us somewhere.’

Damien muttered something unintelligible as they piled back into Anna’s car.

The rest of Anna’s morning passed in a flurry of measuring and negotiating. The number of clients who thought their houses were worth more than they actually were was
incredible, and it wasn’t always easy to persuade them to be a little more realistic. Mr Delaney and his dingy house in Marlboro Road was a perfect example. Mind you, if he gave his house a
bloody good clean he might actually get four-twenty for it but Mark positively forbade her from telling him so.