What She Wants (80 page)

They walked to a small local restaurant and Nicole was delighted to see Sam order fish and chips.

‘Make that two,’ she smiled at the waiter, who swooned

at the sight of her. ‘It’s nice to eat normal food,’ she confided to Sam. ‘At lunch interviews in posh restaurants, everyone’s always trying to order these weird things I’ve never heard of.’ ‘That’s menu one-upmanship,’ Sam smiled. ‘It’s a form of social climbing whereby the more bizarre your order, like asking if the fish comes from one particular bit of the sea or which grove the olive oil in the dressing came from, the more cool and trendy you are proven to be.’ ‘And ordering fish and chips makes the two of us dead common,’ laughed Nicole, instantly getting it. ‘We’re so cool, we don’t have to try,’ agreed Sam. ‘I know this amazingly rich and successful singer who orders prawn cocktail, steak and chips and a bloody Mary wherever she is. She likes it and she doesn’t care what anybody else thinks.’ They enjoyed the meal and Nicole got to the point. ‘Remember when you met my gran, Reenie, and we talked about the place in Ireland where your sister lives?’ Sam nodded. ‘Well, it seems that Gran left there and never went back, for lots of reasons,’ Nicole added discreetly. ‘I think it would be lovely for her to go there and I wanted to arrange it as a surprise, for her and Mum. I can’t go what with the single and all, but I’d love them to go. All-expenses paid, my treat. Could you help me arrange it?’

Hope tried to look astonished when Ronan told her he was resigning from his job as Redlion’s tourism officer. ‘That’s a terrible shame,’ she said, thinking that she could finally post the CV that Eugene had expertly printed up for her. As long as the tourism chiefs didn’t mind her taking a teeny bit of time off to have her baby, she was flying. The way Eugene made it sound in the CV, they’d be lucky to have her. ‘I’m going to recommend you for the job,’ Ronan said, his big sorrowful face more sorrowful than usual. ‘Thanks, Ronan, that’s lovely of you.’

‘Not really,’ he said gloomily, ‘you’d be perfect for the job. I’m only telling the truth.’

Delphine was mentally tied up with the menus for the wedding but still managed to rouse herself from the salad buffet versus hot food debate to be delighted for Hope.

‘You could do that job with your eyes shut,’ she said. ‘You’ll have the tourism industry doubled in no time at all.’

‘Well, yeah…’ muttered Hope, thinking that there was only the small matter of the baby to consider and then, yes, she’d be perfect for the job. In her application letter, she’d pointed out that she would like to work part time rather than full time. Who knew if the powers that be would go along with that.

‘How are the children?’ asked Delphine. ‘Does Millie still want to be a flower girl?’

‘Just try and stop her,’ Hope said. ‘She’s been practising like mad with a paper tiara and her nurse’s uniform. She’s making Toby be the bride, so she gets to trail along behind him, picking up his train, which is my velvet dressing gown, by the way. The only thing is, I keep having panic attacks that Matt’s plane will be delayed on Saturday and they won’t get back in time.’

She knew that Delphine and Eugene were actually getting married on the Friday because it was the only day the registrar could fit them in for the civil ceremony. The wedding party was, therefore, not dependent on the usual split-second timing. An ex-priest friend was providing a blessing on Saturday in Virginia’s rose garden. ‘The holy bit,’ Eugene had said ruefully.

‘Stop fretting,’ Delphine said cheerily now. ‘We’re not Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston. It’s Eugene and me who are getting married. The official bit is the day before so this is a laid-back wedding.’

‘Have you told Virginia that?’ inquired Hope.

Virginia was busy supervising a team of decorators who were tweaking Kilnagoshell at lightning speed into a vision of country house loveliness in readiness for both the wedding

and the inspection by tourist guide people who were keen to get her in their booklet for the January edition. The two upstairs bathrooms had been totally renovated to make them suitable for paying guests and Virginia was having ensuite shower rooms installed in three of the bedrooms. Downstairs, her kitchens had to be revamped to suit health regulations, while the cloakroom was also in need of an overhaul. Delphine laughed. ‘Poor PJ who did up Curlew Cottage for you is in shock, I can tell you. He’s not used to working for a perfectionist like Virginia. I met him last night and he looked weak. He said “It’s not that Mrs Connell ever loses her temper, it’s just that calm way she looks at you that makes you sweat.’” ‘Someone should make PJ sweat,’ Hope commented. ‘My plumbing still isn’t fixed.’ ‘Get Virginia to oversee it,’ Delphine suggested. ‘That way, he’ll have it fixed in no time.’

‘Ooh, it’s lovely.’ There were tears in Sandra Turner’s eyes when she looked around the modern apartment that Nicole had just bought. With one big window looking out over Tower Bridge, the entire living room was bright and airy, a fact emphasized by the lack of furniture. ‘It’ll be nicer when the furniture’s delivered,’ Nicole said anxiously, desperately wanting her mother and gran to like it. Reenie Turner said nothing. She walked around tightlipped, looking out onto the small balcony, peering into the compact kitchen with its gleaming stainless steel oven, and scrutinizing the ensuite bathroom off the master bedroom. Pammy was the only member of the Turner family behaving as normal and she was playing with the intercom, pretending she was phoning up her friends from school. ‘No Pammy,’ said Nicole automatically. ‘You can’t play with that.’ Pammy clutched Barbie in one hand and took her big sister’s hand in the other. ‘Now when you stay, you can sleep in here with me,’

Nicole said, leading Pammy into the master bedroom, which had a wall of built-in wardrobes.

‘Where’s our bed?’ asked Pammy.

‘I haven’t bought one yet,’ Nicole admitted.

‘Will it be as big as Mummy’s?’

Nicole grinned. ‘Bigger,’ she whispered.

Back in the living room, Reenie had perched herself on one of the few bits of furniture in the apartment, a rather battered old couch. The apartment had been let for the two years since it had been built and the previous owners had left a few items behind, all things that looked as if two years of renting had been detrimental to their health.

‘You’ll have to paint the whole place,’ Reenie said, looking around at the grubby mushroom coloured walls.

‘I know,’ Nicole said. ‘But do you like it, Gran? You’ve got to imagine it when it’s all done up and it is a good investment, too,’ she rushed on, anxious that her grandmother say something positive. ‘What do you think?’

Reenie looked at her granddaughter in amazement. ‘It’s wonderful, pet. I’m as proud as punch of you. I don’t have to tell you that, now, do I?’

Nicole’s smile split her face in two. ‘I thought you didn’t like it,’ she said.

‘It needs work, mind you, and I’m going to have to ask George next door for advice on who to get because you don’t want to get stuck with cowboys who don’t know one end of a paintbrush from another but of course I like it.’ Reenie marched into the kitchen and examined the oven. ‘I don’t like the look of this thing at all, though,’ she announced. ‘Could you not get them to take it with them and you can get a nice one like the one I have?’

Nicole and Sandra burst out laughing.

‘What are you like, Mum?’ demanded Sandra. ‘I’ve never seen such a gorgeous flat and there are you, telling her what’s wrong with it.’

‘I’m family,’ Reenie said indignantly. ‘I’m allowed to be honest. Mind you, if anyone else dared to criticize our

Nicole, that would be a different story. They’d feel the sharp end of my tongue and no mistake.’ She sniffed. Nicole felt sorry for anyone who dared to criticize her in Reenie’s presence. She could vouch for the sharpness of Reenie’s tongue, all right. ‘You’re great, Gran,’ she said, throwing her arms around the older woman. ‘What would I do without you?’ ‘Get ripped off by bad decorators probably,’ Reenie said firmly. They discussed colour schemes and it was an hour later before they left the apartment to go back to Reenie’s where they were having dinner. Reenie and Sandra went into the kitchen to cook and Nicole took Pammy out to the park for a go on the adventure playground. After half an hour pushing Pammy, ‘higher, Nicole, higher!’ on the swings, they walked tiredly back to their grandmother’s house. Nicole let them both in quietly. Pammy immediately rushed up to the spare bedroom where her grandmother kept a supply of toys and books for when she stayed over. Nicole hung her coat in the under-stairs cupboard beside the kitchen and couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between her mother and grandmother. — ‘Don’t cry, Sandra,’ Reenie was saying. ‘You know it’s the right thing to do.’ ‘I know,’ sobbed Sandra. ‘I’ve tried so hard. I told her I wanted her to go, but I don’t want her to think I’ve pushed her out. I’ll miss her so much …’ Eyes glittering suspiciously, Nicole opened the door. ‘Mum,’ she wailed, before throwing herself into Sandra’s arms. Clinging together, they sobbed until down-to-earth Reenie broke it all up with a comforting pat for each of them and three mugs of hot sweet tea so strong that it was the colour of toffee. ‘A good cry is what you both needed, now cheer up. This is a day for celebrating.’

‘I know,’ said Sandra, wiping her eyes with her fingers. ‘I’m sorry Nicole, I didn’t mean for you to hear me.’

Nicole ripped some kitchen towel off the roll and handed some to her mother. With the rest, she scrubbed at her eyes. ‘You didn’t push me, Mum,’ she said, when she was recovered enough to speak. ‘I won’t go …’

‘You will,’ said Reenie and Sandra in unison.

‘Your mother isn’t an idiot who can’t cope on her own,’ Reenie added, ‘it’s my fault for making it look like that. I couldn’t help it,’ she admitted with regret. ‘I wanted to protect her from life and I’ve ended up overprotecting her. And so have you.’

Nicole squeezed Sandra’s hand.

‘Between the pair of us, Nicole, we’ve carried on as if Sandra can’t manage on her own. That’s just because we wanted to be indispensable. But we’re not and she’s not.’

Reenie looked intently at her granddaughter. ‘You need to spread your wings, love,’ she said, ‘and so does your mother. Nobody’s saying we won’t miss you, but you’ve got your own life now and you’ve got to live it.’

‘You’ve still got your keys,’ Sandra said, her voice wobbling, ‘I expect you back at least once a week for your tea, right?’

They were all still tearful and snuffly when Pammy came downstairs, trailing a giant furry panda bear that was nearly bigger than she was.

‘You poor little mite,’ said Nicole, hoisting her sister onto her lap. ‘You must be hungry. Are you?’

Pammy nodded. ‘So is Panda,’ she announced. ‘I said we’d have milk.’

The air of tension was totally gone and the family laughed and joked over dinner, with Reenie back on form teasing Nicole about Darius.

‘I’ll lend you my white gloves when you go to visit his mum and dad,’ she joked.

Nicole winced. ‘That’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Mum,’ she said. ‘Not about Darius’s dad, but about

mine. It’s the newspapers, you see. You know I’ve been doing interviews and everything, but if the single works, there’ll be more publicity than ever, or so everyone at Titus keeps telling me. What I’m worried about is the papers bringing up my dad,’ she said. ‘I’ve side-stepped it up to now but you know the papers: they want to know all about you …’ she looked anxiously at her mother.

It was something Nicole had thought a lot about lately. Ever since Shirin in Copperplate had remarked that Nicole was losing out on one part of herself, Nicole had been thinking about her father. Sandra had never made a secret out of the circumstances of Nicole’s birth. She’d been seventeen, naive, and had a huge crush on the handsome Nikhil, a stunning looking Indian boy from school. In turn, he’d been crazy about the lovely blonde girl with the sweet face and the irresistible giggle. It had never been a great love affair and when Sandra became pregnant, she hadn’t told him. Nicole had never quite understood that but she’d assumed that a lifetime hearing about Reenie’s run-in with a feckless man who didn’t want anything to do with his child had something to do with it. But Sandra said no, it wasn’t that. Nikhil’s family wanted a traditional marriage for him. Sandra didn’t want to ruin that over what was, she knew, a teenage flirtation that had gone too far. So she’d said nothing, and gave his baby a name that sounded not a million miles away from his.

‘I never wanted him to know because he’d have tried to do the right thing,’ Sandra said now. ‘He didn’t deserve that. He had his life mapped out for him.’

‘He made you pregnant,’ Nicole shot back, angry at her father. He should have known, he should have somehow worked it all out. ‘He should have been made responsible.’

‘Nicole, it’s water under the bridge,’ Sandra insisted.

‘Not if the papers want to know where my dad is,’ Nicole sighed. ‘Look,’ she added, ‘I’ll talk to Darius about it. He’ll know what to do.’

Reenie cackled. ‘It must be love …’

Nicole blushed. ‘If you’re not nice to me, I won’t give you your sixtieth birthday present.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Reenie groaned. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to be sixty. Anyway, it’s not for two weeks,’ she added suspiciously.

‘You need to know about this present in advance,’ Nicole said mischievously. She dug deep in her handbag and found a travel folder, which she handed to her grandmother.

Reenie opened it, unfolded the first page, which was the itinerary, and gasped.

‘It’s a trip to Ireland. Three flights to Dublin, then on to Kerry, then seven nights at the Manoir Rouge Leon in …’ Her voice failed her.

‘In Redlion,’ supplied Nicole, watching her grandmother anxiously. ‘I thought it would be nice for you to go back. I know your family are long gone, but wouldn’t it be nice to go back and get all the bad things out of your system?’

For what seemed like an age, Reenie said nothing, she merely held the itinerary in her hand, staring at the words as though in a daze.