‘Me too,’ Dot announced, coming in to collect her handbag.
‘Really?’ Helen found it hard to hide her surprise; Dot would be collecting her pension soon.
‘Absolutely,’ Dot said, and was slipping on her jacket when the doorbell rang. ‘That will be Jo; I’ll let her in. See you later.’
‘Bye, Dot,’ Helen called after her and then turned back to Marianne. ‘Is she serious?’
‘Oh yes, she’s determined to do her bit to bring in some extra cash.’
‘But someone will have to look after the children.’
‘That’s what I said, but she said it won’t stop her doing something part-time.’ Jo came into the kitchen carrying an armful of flowers. ‘Ah, thanks, Jo, you shouldn’t have.’
‘They’re just from the garden, nothing special,’ Jo assured her with a hug before sitting down and kissing Helen’s cheek. ‘Hello, you. How are the party plans coming along?’
‘Fine, Jo, thanks. How’s everyone?’
‘Not a bother.’
‘Marianne’s going back to work,’ Helen told her.
‘No, really?’ Jo looked surprised. ‘Why?’
Marianne shot Helen a warning look. ‘It’s going to take some time before Dominic’s estate is sorted out so I need to earn a living, for the moment anyway.’
‘That’s terrible.’ Jo frowned. ‘If you like I could ask Greg if he could help with the estate—’
‘Thanks, but there’s no need to trouble him, it’s just red tape; I’m sure everything will work out in time.’
‘Of course it will,’ Helen agreed. She understood why Marianne hadn’t confided in Jo. She would tell Greg and then he would probably offer to help sort out her financial problems and then expect to become her full-time accountant. Helen had no real idea of whether he was any good at his job but he was a bit too pushy for her liking and she certainly wouldn’t like him to know all her private business.
‘So, have you applied for any jobs yet?’ Jo asked.
‘No, but I’m going to get all the newspapers today and check the Situations Vacant columns.’
‘You need to put a CV together,’ Helen said, ‘and register with some employment agencies. And be sure to put your details up on some of the major employment websites too. Most of the newer companies mainly advertise online.’
‘Why don’t you ask Treacy Travel for a job?’ Jo suggested, her eyes lighting up. ‘They thought the world of you; I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you back.’
Marianne pulled a face. ‘They went out of business a few months ago.’
‘Oh, what bad luck.’ Jo sighed. ‘So many companies seem to be closing down these days; I suppose it’s not a great time to be job hunting.’
‘There are always opportunities if you know where to look,’ Helen said with a meaningful look at Jo. ‘With Marianne’s experience she’d be an asset to any small business.’
‘I didn’t mean—’ Jo started.
‘Think of the people I’ll be competing with though,’ Marianne interrupted. ‘They’ll have degrees coming out their ears.’
‘Qualifications aren’t everything. There are plenty of people about who are academically brilliant but useless when it comes to management,’ Helen said. ‘Update your CV and get it out there, Marianne.’
Marianne laughed. ‘Do you know, I haven’t a clue how to go about putting a CV together?’
‘No problem. Write out all the various positions you held and the responsibilities you have had through the years and I’ll do the rest,’ Helen told her, delighted to be able to help in some small way.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Marianne protested.
‘I know but it will make me feel useful and you know me, I love to have a project.’
Marianne leaned over to give her a hug. ‘You’re an angel. I’m delighted to be your project.’
‘Excellent,’ Helen said, feeling happier. She had felt so helpless lately; there was so little she could do to make her best friend feel any better. Her strength had always been in doing rather than talking. She would not only find Marianne a job, she would find her a damn good one too.
‘I’d love a job,’ Jo said, looking wistful.
Helen smiled. ‘Will I do a CV for you too then?’
‘Sure, what would you put on mine? Second-rate housekeeper, rubbish cook and lethal with an iron. Who’d hire me?’
‘I hate it when you put yourself down like that, Jo. You’re a lovely, honest, funny, kind and intelligent woman—’
‘Ah, please!’ Jo waved Marianne’s praise away. ‘I think you’re mixing me up with someone else.’
‘She’s not, Jo, you are all those things and more. So,’ Helen rested her chin in her hand and studied her friend curiously, ‘what would your ideal job be?’
Jo grinned. ‘That’s easy; I’d like to be a judge on one of those talent shows, you know the ones where they press a buzzer when someone is rubbish? My buzzer would be worn out before the first show was over!’
Marianne laughed. ‘That would be fun.’
‘But it’s not likely to happen,’ Helen pointed out, afraid that they were veering away from the subject, and Jo’s lack of confidence bothered her. A job might be exactly what she needed to bring her out of herself more. ‘Come on, Jo, seriously, tell us.’
Jo fiddled with her hair self-consciously. ‘Well, believe it or not, I quite liked working in a shop. I like watching people and I’m fascinated by what they buy.’ She looked at Helen, reddening. ‘I suppose you think that’s silly.’
‘Not at all; I’m fascinated by that too. When I’m queuing at the checkout I’m always peering into the basket in front. I love the weird ones, you know where there are eight packets of chocolate biscuits and a box of low-cal sweeteners.’
Marianne laughed. ‘I do it too!’
‘I wouldn’t want to work in a big, anonymous supermarket, though,’ Jo said, warming to her theme. ‘I’d prefer one of those small shops where you get to know people.’
‘I think you would be really good at that,’ Helen mused. ‘You are so patient and friendly, you’re a shopkeeper’s dream employee. Why don’t you do it, Jo?’ It would be great for her to earn some cash of her own and get out and meet people; her life was much too mundane and solitary.
‘Oh, I don’t think so. My job is looking after the children and Greg.’
‘But they’re out most of the day,’ Marianne reminded her. ‘You could do what Dot’s planning to do and work mornings.’
‘I suppose so,’ Jo said, ‘but I still can’t see anyone hiring me.’
‘Rubbish,’ Helen said. ‘I’d choose a responsible, mature woman any day over a young girl who simply wanted to finance her social life while she went through college.’
‘Or who spent their time daydreaming of winning one of those reality shows instead of working,’ Marianne added with a grin.
Helen studied Jo; she definitely seemed to be considering the idea. It could be the making of her and get her out from under Greg’s thumb. Not that Helen felt Greg was entirely to blame; Jo had scurried under that thumb when she got married and stayed there ever since. It wasn’t surprising given her traumatic childhood, but sometimes Helen did feel sorry for Greg. He thought he was gaining a life partner but instead he’d taken on a dependant. Now he was a grumpy, self-important bugger and no mistake. Still, he was like a choirboy next to Dominic Thomson. Helen thanked the Lord for Johnny; she had fallen on her feet the day she met that man.
‘Let me put together a letter for you, Jo, and you can post it to the shops you’d like to work for.’
‘Oh, Helen, I don’t know . . .’
‘Let me write it at least, you don’t have to send it if you don’t want to.’
‘And even if you do send it off and get an offer, you don’t have to take it,’ Marianne pointed out.
‘Exactly,’ Helen gave her shy friend an encouraging smile. ‘Oh, come on, Jo. What have you got to lose?’
‘Nothing I suppose.’ Jo shrugged. ‘Okay, Helen, write your letter.’
‘Yes!’ Helen gave a triumphant punch in the air and stood up.
Marianne frowned. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘I can’t sit around nattering and drinking tea all day,’ Helen exclaimed with a grin. ‘I’ve got work to do!’
Chapter Eleven
Rob was a nervous wreck by the time he walked up the drive of number 17 Asgard Court. It was ridiculous, he was behaving like a teenager on a first date, but this would be the first time he’d seen Marianne since the night she’d told him it was all over.
It had been in their usual meeting place, an Italian café in one of the sleazier parts of Dublin. He had always hated taking Marianne there, but she had insisted that it was a safer place to meet as it was unlikely they would bump into anyone they knew. That night, when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d known something was very wrong.
‘Has something happened?’ he’d asked as soon as they were seated and the waiter was out of earshot.
‘Things are a bit difficult at home at the moment.’
He’d had no idea what was going on in Marianne’s marriage, she had always refused to go into detail, but he’d watched her grow quieter and thinner over the last few months. He’d tried to compensate and had gone to extra lengths to make their time together special, but he wasn’t sure that would work today.
‘Forget about it for a couple of hours, sweetheart, you’re here with me now.’
‘For the last time, Rob,’ she said, her eyes full of tears.
‘But why?’
‘I’m married and I have two babies; I should never have started this. It was wrong of me and unfair to you.’
‘What’s happened, Marianne? Has Dominic said something? Does he suspect you of seeing someone?’
She flinched. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’
‘Please. Tell me what’s wrong, Marianne, let me help.’
‘You can’t help other than by letting me go, Rob. Please don’t make this any harder than it is.’
He’d felt gutted by her words. They left the café soon afterwards; neither of them had felt like eating. As they walked back to the car park, side by side, but not touching, Rob wanted to pull her into his arms and beg her to reconsider. But he knew from the determined set of her mouth and the lost look in her eyes that her mind was made up. When he stopped outside the train station, he’d held her tightly in his arms, and kissed her for the last time, and then watched her walk out of his life.
‘Rob, good to see you.’
Rob did a double-take when Johnny flung open the door and gestured for him to come in. Rob stepped into the hallway, wiped his boots on the mat and glanced around. ‘Hi. I didn’t realize you were going to be here too, Johnny.’
‘I’m alone. Marianne thought it would be best to let you take a look around the house without her looking over your shoulder.’
‘Oh, right.’ Rob swallowed his disappointment. ‘That was very thoughtful of her.’
Johnny clapped his hands together. ‘Shall we start upstairs?’
‘Great.’
As Rob followed him from one bedroom to the next, he barely heard the man’s comments; he was too busy searching for signs of Marianne. But though there was plenty of evidence of the children in the form of artwork and toys and photos of them at various ages, he could find nothing of her. Even the bright, immaculate main bedroom seemed sterile. He eyed the bed hungrily.
‘Is she happy to rent the place furnished?’ he asked, thinking how good it would be to lie where she had lain.
‘Oh, absolutely. She’s moving to a smaller place that’s already furnished.’
‘Can I ask why?’ Rob asked.
‘There’s nothing wrong with the house if that’s what’s worrying you,’ Johnny quickly assured him. ‘The family is just going through a rough patch.’
‘I see.’ It was wrong, so wrong, but Rob couldn’t help but feel hope bubble up inside him; a rough patch must surely mean a separation. They were in the kitchen and Johnny was explaining the various appliances and waxing lyrical about the garden, from where you could just about glimpse Ireland’s Eye, when he saw the photo. It was stuck to the fridge among a mess of photos, Post-its and a colourful magnetic alphabet. It was a shot of Marianne and the children. Her long dark hair hung down over one shoulder and her head was thrown back. She was laughing, showing off the beautiful neck that he’d kissed so many times. She wore a simple white T-shirt and he could see the outline of her small, firm breasts underneath; it made him long to reach out and touch the photograph.
‘That’s Marianne and her two kids.’
Rob started as he realized that Johnny had come over to see what had caught his attention.
Johnny checked his watch. ‘She should be here any minute.’
Rob dragged his eyes away from the photo. ‘Sorry?’
Johnny turned away and reached for the kettle. ‘Marianne, she said she’d be back by eleven.’
Rob checked his watch. It was a couple of minutes to the hour, a couple of minutes till he saw her again. He wondered how she’d react when they met; if she knew that he was her prospective tenant. ‘I’d like to take the house,’ he said quickly.
‘We haven’t even talked money yet,’ Johnny chuckled.
‘I’m sure the rent will reflect the downturn in the market,’ Rob grinned. ‘And I need somewhere close to the site so I can keep an eye on my builder.’
Johnny laughed. ‘It’s nice to know that you trust me!’
‘So, come on, tell me. What’s the story? Why are they moving out?’
‘Ah, well, that’s a bit delicate—’ Johnny broke off as they heard the front door open. ‘Sorry, it’ll have to wait.’
As Johnny went to meet Marianne, Rob’s eyes returned to the photo. He felt almost afraid to face the door; he really wasn’t sure what to expect.
After the night they had parted, he had sent her a couple of texts. He’d just wanted to know that she was okay, and had craved some contact, no matter how small. Marianne responded to them but not immediately and when she did her messages had been formal and brief. He had taken the hint and not contacted her again. He heard murmuring in the hall and their footsteps approaching, and taking a deep breath, he pasted on a smile and turned to face her.
‘Marianne, this is Rob Lee. Rob, Marianne Thomson.’
He crossed the kitchen, hand outstretched. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘And you,’ she said with a nervous smile.
‘You have a lovely home.’
‘Thank you.’ As the kettle clicked off, Marianne moved past him. ‘Tea, coffee?’
‘Tea for me,’ Johnny replied, sitting down at the table.