The Wedding Invite (Lakeview) (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 6) (19 page)

D
an drove furiously
down the Stillorgan dual carriageway.

Damn. Why had he let that slip? Chloe would never shut up about it now, and heaven knows she was a nightmare once she had something to complain about.

So unlike Nicola really, he thought, turning onto the coast road. In fact, the two of them couldn’t have been more different. Nicola had always been most pragmatic and level-headed about things, whereas Chloe would fly off the handle at nothing. Not that Nic would hide from a confrontation either, he thought with a wry smile. Indeed, quite the opposite. But she didn’t get her knickers in a twist over things like … well, like the
colour
of her knickers, and whether or not you could see it through her trousers, or if it went with this dress, or these boots or….

Dan found himself tuning out during Chloe rants about her clothes, her shoes, and lately, about this bloody wedding. He was sorry in a way that it had had to be put off, because now he’d have to put up with another five months odd of planning – not just the Perfect Wedding – but the Perfect
Winter
Wedding. She was already talking about dressing the men up in some kind of Russian-themed get-up, complete with furry hats and high leather boots. His father would certainly love that.

He knew that most women went a little bit batty over their Big Day, but was only realising now how lucky he had been the first time round. Wedding trivia had never bothered Nicola, and she was quite happy with their cosy, intimate wedding in Vegas.

In fact, Dan thought, there was very little that could bother his first wife.

He stopped in the carpark overlooking Sandymount Strand. Despite himself, he was thinking about Nicola more and more these days, and a lot more than he should be. He was getting married in a few months, for goodness sake. But yet, since meeting her last week in Bray, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her.

She had been so calm and so
together
. He had expected the worst – anger, admonishment, bitterness –
something
after all that time. But Nicola seemed fine; she seemed strong, calm and amazingly, she seemed … happy. Dan wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.

She looked beautiful too, he thought wistfully. No amount of physical change could dampen that spirited, determined glint in her eye, the very thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. Nicola had always been strong-willed; whatever had made him think that she would fall to pieces? Dan smiled wistfully, remembering their very first encounter in O’Connell St that time.

Yes, she had always been the strong, forceful one in their marriage, always able to handle anything that was thrown at her, never letting anything faze her. Dan looked out to sea.

Except for that one time of course.

T
hey were almost
a year married at the time. Nicola was losing it, and Dan didn’t know how to help her. It was like as if he didn’t know who she was anymore. What had happened to his wonderful, sunny, carefree wife?

Well, of course Dan knew what had happened. It had been a tragedy, and a devastating disappointment to both of them. But however much they wanted that baby, and however much it hurt, there was absolutely nothing they could do to bring it back. The miscarriage had happened. There was no reason, no explanation, it just happened. Dan could see it, could partly understand it, so why couldn’t he help Nicola see it?

“Time will heal,” they all said, doctors, nurses, Laura, her mother.

So each day Dan would come home from work, hoping for some improvement, some tiny glimpse of the old Nicola but no, she’d still be sitting listlessly in front of the TV, not having bothered to get dressed, barely having bothered to get out of bed.

Dan knew she was grieving but he also thought she blamed him. He should have looked after her better, or should have at least realised that something was wrong. But could he be –
had
he been at fault? Dan didn’t think so. These things
did
happen.

Eventually as the days went by, Nicola seemed to at least come out from under her blanket of fog, and start becoming human again. After almost two weeks she got up, got dressed, went back to work, and went about her day to day business just as before.

Except she wasn’t the same Nicola. She was this faraway, preoccupied Nicola, and Dan didn’t recognise her anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time they had had a conversation that lasted longer than two sentences, and it was never about anything other than trivialities. She got on with her life as though he didn’t exist.

It hurt. It hurt desperately. He was losing her, and he didn’t know how to prevent it. After a while, it became almost impossible to stay in the same room with her evening after evening, and be unable to share, to talk, to laugh like they once did.

So Dan found that he began to avoid spending time with her. It started out subconsciously; he would stay late working on a set of accounts that needed to be ready for sign-off before Friday. And he told John that yes, of course they could take on more clients, even though the practice had already been more successful than either had anticipated, and their respective offices were already overburdened.

And eventually it was easier that way. Dan could live with himself. He could live with himself because he didn’t have to see the pain and disappointment in his wife’s eyes every time he looked at her, and he thought that maybe if he stayed away long enough, then one day the old Nicola would return.

One evening, Dan was sitting in his office staring at the computer screen, and thinking about all that he was about to lose, or worse, about what had already been lost.

“Dan?”

He jumped.

Someone popped a head around the door of his office. “What are you still doing here?”

Dan caught his breath. “Shannon, you scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t think there was anybody else here. I’m working on – on the P35 for Manning Packaging.” He picked up the first company file that came to hand. John had recently taken on Shannon to act as PA, hoping that an extra person would help them deal with the workload.

“At eight o’clock?” she frowned. “Dan, don’t you think you should be heading home soon?”

“I just have a few small things to finish up, then I’ll go. What about you? It’s not like you to be working late.”

“I wasn’t, actually. I left earlier but I forgot my mobile, so I came all the way back to get it.” She gave him a mischievous look. “I’m expecting an important call tonight.”

Dan grinned back. “Oh? Do I know about this one?” Shannon always had some man on the go – be it past, present or future.

“No. He’s new on the scene,” she said coquettishly. “I met him at the weekend. He’s nice, seems like my type.”

“Nice? That definitely doesn’t sound like your type.” Dan laughed for what seemed like the first time in ages.

“Oh, well. I’ll see how it goes, anyway.” Shannon went back towards the doorway. Then she paused. “Dan, is everything OK?”

He stiffened. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Look, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look awful.”

“Thanks a bunch.”

“No, I don’t mean …” She floundered. “Look, I just wondered how things were going – at home, I mean. You haven’t said much and, well, we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it.”

Dan looked at her. Shannon knew about the miscarriage, everyone here did. Should he confide in her his fears about Nicola? He needed to confide in someone, but it almost felt like a betrayal. Especially as Nicola and Shannon had never seemed to get on all that well and as a result Dan had consciously cooled his friendship with her. Yet they were still friends and before Nicola they had been very close. He threw down his pen. Feck it, he needed to talk to someone, otherwise he’d crack up soon.

“Things are a little … delicate,” he offered eventually.

Shannon gave him a compassionate look. “It’s understandable, you know. I’m sure losing a much-wanted baby wasn’t easy for her.”

“It wasn’t easy for me either, but nobody seems to understand, or even consider that.”

Shannon nodded, then looked at her watch. “Look, you need to get out of here. Let’s go next door for a pint, and we can have a good long chat.” She gave him a winning smile.

Dan thought that sounded great. “Are you sure? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

She shook her head. “Not really. If lover-boy rings, I can talk to him from there. Go on, get your things.”

“Great.” Dan looked relieved.

As he shut down his computer and collected his briefcase, he discovered he was feeling better already. This was exactly what he needed. A cosy pub, a decent pint of plain and a good listener.

As Dan followed her out to the hallway and locked the office door behind them, Shannon looked across and flashed him an inviting smile.

“
G
ood afternoon
, Laura Connolly Design?” Laura closed her eyes in silent prayer. Please, please, let it be that man calling back – the one who was looking for the engagement ring that time.

Three weeks later it was highly unlikely. That day, having returned from collecting Kerry, she had waited and waited for him to phone back, but no call had been forthcoming. The disappointment had been almost unbearable, as was the fact that there was no chance of piecing together his name, or his mobile number.

Still, Helen had been so grateful for the favour, and when she came to collect her daughter that same evening she had presented Laura with the most gorgeous bottle of designer perfume for her trouble. But the favour turned out to be longer-lived than Laura had expected. Since then, she had collected Kerry from playschool nearly three nights out of five in the last few weeks and again this afternoon.

“Hello?” she repeated, when there was no reply.

A short pause at the other end. “Um, hello? Is that Laura?”

“Yes, it is. Who’s speaking please?”

“Laura, how are you, pet? Kathleen Brennan here.”

“Oh, hello, Kathleen, how are you?”

Kathleen Brennan
, Laura thought. Kathleen Brennan from Glengarrah. Was it possible – could it be that Kathleen was looking to buy something from her? Perhaps her mother had been telling people about the business, after all. Why else would the village busybody be phoning her?

“Well, it’s like this, Laura,” Kathleen began, as if reading her thoughts, “your mother told me all about how you’re working for yourself these days.”

Brilliant! Laura thought. Maureen had come through for her, after all. Now what would Kathleen be looking for, a brooch to wear at Mass on Sunday, or maybe a present for her husband? She could do a gorgeous set of cufflinks that would suit Cornelius Brennan, something simple but very elegant, something he’d love …

Kathleen’s voice broke into her thoughts. “And she told me that you wouldn’t mind doing me a turn and booking tickets for Daniel O’Donnell on Thursday 14
^th
…”

Laura bristled. This was the
second
time she had played booking agent to someone from Glegarrah. Only the other day, one of Cathy’s friends had phoned to ask if Laura could go online and help book flights to London
and
a cheap hotel for her and her husband. She didn’t mind doing anyone a favour, but she was getting a little sick of being used as the Glengarrah Internet café. Yet she hadn’t the heart to say no to the woman.

“I’ll have a look for you, Kathleen,” Laura told her, logging onto the ticket website. “How many tickets would you like me to book?”

“Twelve please,” Kathleen said in the manner of someone who was ordering mushrooms from the vegetable man, “and try and get us as close to the man himself as you can.”

Laura tried to think of something to talk about as she waited for the website to appear on screen. She didn’t know Kathleen Brennan all that well. “So, Kathleen, how are things at home?”

“Fine, pet. You haven’t been down yourself in a while, have you? Although why would you? There’s nothing here for young ones these days. Yourself and Helen Jackson had the right idea emigrating to Dublin and getting good jobs for yourselves.”

Emigrating! Goodness, Laura thought giddily.

“And how
is
Helen these days?” Kathleen asked, and Laura sensed a tone of faint disapproval behind the supposedly off-hand question. Helen could never be considered as a candidate for Glengarrah Person of the Year.

“She’s fine, Kathleen,” Laura answered, vaguely worried to discover that the Daniel O’Donnell concert was booked out.

“I’m very sorry,” she said, explaining the situation to the older woman. “Maybe if you had given me a bit more notice – ”

“Are you sure now?” Kathleen sounded sceptical. “They couldn’t be all gone, could they? Even the ones down the back?”

“Well, I can’t actually see the theatre on screen here. It just tells me that the show is sold out.”

There was a sniff at the other end. “I was so looking forward to it too. Are you absolutely certain?”

The woman was almost in tears. Laura knew that Kathleen and her bingo cronies would be devastated. And of course, it would be all Laura’s fault.

“Definitely. Maybe some other time.” Damn, why had she said that? Now half the village would be ringing her up looking for things.

“OK, Laura. I’ll tell your mother you tried, but I’d say she’ll be very disappointed altogether.”

Laura sighed. Her mother would probably be on the phone within seconds, wondering why Laura couldn’t oblige Kathleen Brennan, and didn’t Laura know how embarrassing it was?

Perhaps this was part of the reason her mother was loath to boast about her business to the neighbours, Laura thought suddenly. If the business failed, which at this stage was looking like a true prospect; Maureen would never be able to live it down. Never mind that her own daughter would be shattered and disappointed, never mind that Laura was following her dream, and doing something that a lot of people would call courageous. As long as the neighbours weren’t able to say that Maureen Fanning’s daughter was a failure, that was the main thing. She shook her head sadly. Such a shame that her mother couldn’t see beyond what the neighbours thought, but then again Maureen had always been the same, and at sixty years of age was unlikely to change.

Still, this thought didn’t make Laura feel any better. Failure? The way things were going, it was a very distinct possibility.