Two For Joy Read online

  Lots of love,

  Lorna XXX

  Heather shook her head. She didn’t for a minute believe Lorna couldn’t have waited to tell her personally of her decision to leave. It was such a flimsy excuse it was insulting. She really had no compunction about using people. Ruth had been right all along. Heather just hadn’t wanted to see it. Well, it was staring her in the face now and she had to deal with it. As far as she was concerned, her cousin had done the hot potato act on her once too often. She was finished with her. From now on, Lorna was persona non grata, and she could go and whistle for her deposit. She’d broken the lease, Heather decided with uncharacteristic steeliness. If the shoe was on the other foot she was damn sure Lorna wouldn’t refund her a penny. The nerve of her to even mention it! And how typical of her meanness. If Lorna came looking for a refund Heather would let her have it good and proper, she thought viciously as she slipped out of her tracksuit and put on her navy suit.

  The traffic was heavy and she arrived at the apartment in Clontarf five minutes late. ‘I’m terribly sorry for keeping you,’ she apologized to the young man who opened the door to her.

  ‘No problem, you’re not that late,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m still in good time for the airport.’ He handed her the keys. ‘Here you go. I organized for a cleaner to come in yesterday and she did the place from top to bottom. The company pays for that kind of thing, they’re good like that, so if you just sign the list of contents when you’ve checked I think you’ll find I can have my deposit back.’

  ‘Sure, no problem.’ Heather flashed him a smile. He’d been a dream tenant, no problems, no hassle. Corporate tenants were much easier to deal with generally. They knew the score, but with the downturn in the economy in the past few months they were getting scarcer and scarcer. Heather did a swift inspection of the apartment and ticked off the inventory. Everything was in order and the apartment was spotless. Some tenants left the apartments in terrible condition and kicked up ructions when they weren’t returned their deposits. The grief they gave her was unbelievable, and then she had to deal with the aggrieved landlords as well. Well, at least this was one letting that had gone well. The manager of the lettings department would be on her back now until Heather had the apartment let again and Brooke, Byrne & O’Connell had secured a fine fat fee.

  ‘I’ll head off now, I have the car packed, I have to give it back to the rental agency. Thanks very much, I hope I’ll be as lucky in my next posting.’ The man smiled at her.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Heather asked politely.

  ‘Zurich.’

  ‘Very nice,’ she enthused.

  ‘We’ll see. Thanks again. I enjoyed my stay in Ireland.’

  ‘That’s good. Best of luck in Zurich,’ Heather said warmly as she slipped the keys into her bag.

  When he was gone, she got a final reading for the ESB and gas meters, straightened up the cushions on the sofas and made sure all the windows were closed and the cooker and immersion heater turned off. It was fine for viewing, and she’d had several inquiries already – the apartment was in a good location so hopefully it shouldn’t take long to let it.

  By the time she got to the office she was hungry, so she got a cup of coffee from a vending machine, and, because it was a day of trauma, she indulged in a Mars bar and didn’t even feel a twinge of guilt.

  ‘Was Seavale up to scratch?’ Edith Palmer, the lettings manager, asked brusquely as Heather walked past her desk.

  ‘It was fine. I have the keys. I’m just going to organize some viewings,’ Heather replied, surprised at her boss’s tone.

  ‘Make sure I get to see the references of whoever is going in there next,’ Edith ordered.

  ‘Sure,’ Heather said easily and carried on to her own desk. Something was definitely up. Usually the office was abuzz with chat and banter. She caught Tina Kelly’s eye. Tina worked at the desk next to hers. Her colleague gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head and put her finger to her lips. Heather took the hint and sat behind her desk and after a few sips of coffee and a welcome bite of her Mars bar, busied herself with arranging viewings with prospective clients.

  Half an hour later Edith stood up. ‘I’ve got to go to a meeting upstairs. Take my calls, Tina. Deal with what you can deal with, otherwise tell people I’ll return their calls. If James Wentworth rings fob him off for God’s sake!’

  ‘Yes, Edith,’ Tina said dryly.

  Edith gave her a sharp look but said nothing, before stalking out the door clutching her Versace briefcase.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Heather demanded when the door closed behind their boss.

  ‘Talk about drama! You missed all the excitement. There’s ructions!’ Tina exclaimed gleefully, perching herself on the corner of Heather’s desk. ‘That dozy bimbo Dianne let a tenant into an apartment without checking his reference—’

  ‘Sure loads of them do that,’ scoffed Heather, who still found the totally slapdash and couldn’t-care-less attitude of some of the staff, including Edith, it had to be said, mind-boggling. She wouldn’t have the nerve to take the short cuts they took.

  ‘No, this is really, really MEGA serious,’ Tina explained earnestly. ‘The guy she let in was supposed to be a lawyer. French, allegedly. The reference was a complete disaster. No headed notepaper. No telephone number. No letters after his name or after the guy, another lawyer, “allegedly”,’ she grinned, ‘who wrote the references. Anyway the landlord wasn’t happy when he heard that he’d moved in before he saw the references or signed the lease. When he finally saw the references he wouldn’t sign the lease and the “lawyer” wouldn’t provide him with another one and accused him of being racist and the landlord wants him out. He won’t go and the landlord is threatening to sue us! Dianne’s got the boot. She was told to have her desk cleared and be gone in ten minutes. Mr Brooke was roaring at her. And Edith’s been hauled over the coals as well. I swear it was pandemonium this morning. It was a pity you missed it all.’ Tina was thoroughly enjoying the drama, once she wasn’t a participant.

  ‘I’m glad I wasn’t here. I hate things like that. You’d think old baldy-boots would have sacked her in his office instead of bawling her out down here.’ Heather clipped her two meter readings together.

  ‘He probably wanted to make sure we all saw it, so that it won’t happen again,’ Tina remarked sagely. ‘If that landlord sues, we’re up shit creek. Can you imagine the publicity in the papers? Landlords won’t want to touch us with a ten-foot bargepole.’

  ‘I wouldn’t blame them,’ snorted Heather. ‘If I ever had a property to let I wouldn’t go to a Mickey Mouse outfit like this lot, I can tell you. Would you?’

  ‘You must be joking!’ Tina snorted. ‘This grabby, greedy shower are the most unprofessional cowboys I’ve ever worked for and I’ve worked for a few of them in my time.’

  ‘Is that right, Methuselah?’ teased Heather.

  Tina was saved the chance of replying by Edith’s return. She was grim-faced and red-cheeked, totally unlike her usual cool, poised persona.

  ‘I’ll swing for that tart,’ she muttered.

  Tina stifled a giggle. Heather kept her head down.

  ‘You two, get me the files on every letting we’ve done for the last two weeks,’ she barked.

  Heather’s phone rang. ‘Brooke, Byrne & O’Connell. How can I help you?’ It was Ruth all ready to continue her Lorna rant. ‘Look I can’t talk to you now, things are mad here.’

  ‘Right then, meet me for lunch if you can take a late one, I’ll book us a table in Da Pino on Parliament Street. It won’t break the bank and we can have a chat,’ Ruth offered.

  ‘OK, see you there around one forty-five,’ Heather agreed hastily, as Edith’s phone rang and she made Tina answer it, for fear it was the dreaded Mr Wentworth who was causing hassle about incorrect information regarding his property that Brooke, Byrne & O’Connell had placed on the Internet.

  It was the dreaded Landlord Wentworth. Tina made a ferocio
us face. ‘I’m afraid she’s in a meeting, Mr Wentworth,’ she lied smoothly.

  There was an explosion down the phone that even Heather could hear and Tina held the phone away from her ear. ‘I will tell her, Mr Wentworth,’ she said wearily after the irate landlord had vented his anger at their incompetence, yet again. ‘Edith, I’m not taking that man’s calls for you again. It’s not fair. Will you just deal with it.’ Tina was totally pissed off.

  ‘I’ve told those idiots that look after the Internet to sort it. They’re imbeciles! Morons! And incompetents!’ Edith raged.

  ‘Well, at least ring Wentworth back. He accused me of not passing on the messages and it’s not fair on me,’ Tina stormed.

  ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on,’ muttered Edith through clenched teeth.

  Just to make sure that her boss was correct in her judgement of the people who looked after their website, Heather clicked on just out of curiosity to see if the apartment in Clontarf was correctly presented. She should have known, she thought irritably when she saw that her two-bed furnished with parking space was listed as a one-bed unfurnished with no parking. She sent a snooty memo to the imbeciles, morons and incompetents, knowing that it probably wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference anyway but it made her feel better.

  ‘It’s a crappy company and I’m sick of it. I’m going to look for another job,’ she moaned when she finally sat down to lunch with her twin.

  ‘Ah, you’re always saying that,’ Ruth scoffed as she perused the menu. The restaurant was choc-a-block but the girls liked it. It did an excellent cheap ’n’ cheerful lunch special that suited their penury. The food was tasty, and it was handy to both their offices.

  ‘I’m having the minute steak, please. And a glass of Diet Coke,’ Ruth told the waiter.

  ‘I’ll have the lasagne and side salad, and a Coke as well, please,’ Heather decided.

  ‘So the bitch is gone.’ Ruth sat back in her seat and fixed Heather with an ‘I told you so’ look. She looked a million dollars. Her glorious chestnut hair, swept back off her face, cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a taupe business suit with navy shoes and accessories and her eyes were bright and clear in her vivacious face. Heather felt like a frumpy drudge in her serviceable navy suit in comparison. And she certainly didn’t exude the joie de vivre of her twin, she thought enviously. She really could do with a makeover.

  ‘Yeah, she’s gone.’ Heather folded and unfolded her serviette.

  ‘Am I surprised? In a word: no!’ Ruth tapped her fingers on the table. ‘Don’t you dare give her back her deposit.’

  ‘I’ve no intentions of,’ Heather retorted coolly.

  ‘Good for you!’ approved her sister. ‘And if it doesn’t work out for her in Malahide under no circumstances are you to let her come running back to you,’ dictated Ruth bossily.

  ‘And exactly how high will I jump?’ Heather inquired tartly.

  Ruth had the grace to look ashamed. ‘Sorry, Heather,’ she apologized ruefully. ‘I’m just so mad with the sly little cow. I really would love to give her a piece of my mind. What are you going to do? If you want to give up your place you can share my room until you get a smaller place of your own,’ she offered.

  ‘Thanks, Ruth, I might take you up on that, if you don’t mind. I can’t afford to stay there on my own, and I don’t really feel like sharing with a stranger.’

  ‘Pity we’re full up, but I know the girls won’t mind you staying for a while until you’re sorted.’ Ruth smiled at the waiter as he placed her steak in front of her.

  ‘You look great, Ruth, better than I’ve ever seen you look.’ Heather arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Is there something I should know?’

  ‘Oh Heather, I’m in love,’ Ruth bubbled.

  ‘I knew it. Who is it this time?’ Heather tucked into her succulent, creamy lasagne.

  ‘No, this is really it. He’s so different to anyone else I’ve ever met. His name is Peter, he’s a carpenter.’

  ‘A carpenter? Where did you meet him?’ Heather was surprised. Ruth usually went for the ‘suits’.

  ‘I was at a party a while back and I was admiring a beautiful coffee table made out of redwood. The owner introduced me to Peter and told me he was the man who made it. He has his own small company and his handcrafts are gorgeous. So’s he.’ Ruth was definitely smitten.

  ‘What age is he? What does he look like?’ Heather forked some crispy salad into her mouth. After the morning’s traumas, she was surprisingly hungry.

  ‘He’s twenty-eight. A six-footer with brown hair and the most gorgeous hazel eyes. He’s got broad shoulders and a hairy chest—’

  ‘Very important,’ laughed Heather. She and Ruth had devoured romantic novels in their teens, and had always had a penchant for their broad-shouldered, hairy-chested heroes. ‘Have you done the biz yet?’

  Ruth shook her head. ‘No, that’s the thing I really like. It’s as if we both know this is something very special and we don’t want to rush it and muck it up. We get on so well, Heather, I’m dying to do it with him, he’s gorgeous. But being friends first is so nice. I love being with him and I’m dying for you to meet him.’

  ‘He sounds lovely.’ Heather smiled enviously at her sister. ‘You lucky thing. I wish I could meet a gorgeous bloke.’

  ‘You’ll meet someone special too,’ Ruth comforted.

  ‘Yeah, when I’m ninety and past it,’ Heather quipped.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Ruth said briskly. ‘Peter has loads of friends – I’ll introduce you to them. I’m glad you’re not living with Lorna any more. You were always too much in her shadow. Now it’s time for you. That bitch has done you a favour,’ Ruth declared, raising her glass to Heather.

  It didn’t feel that way, Heather reflected that night as she sat on her own by the fire and listened to the wind whistle down the chimney. The flat was morgue silent. It was amazing how noisy Lorna had been, but Heather had got used to her. She didn’t like ‘aloneness’, she thought unhappily. It made her reflect on how empty her life was.

  It hadn’t always been like this. When she’d lived at home, she’d had a full, happy enough life. Was it because she hadn’t put in enough of an effort here? She did socialize with the girls at work occasionally, but it always ended up as a drinkfest where they spent the evening giving out about Brooke, Byrne & O’Connell. The same old thing.

  Heather flicked the TV channels restlessly. Why was she feeling so totally inadequate? One of the girls at work, Margaret, was very into spiritual healing and meditation, and always seemed extremely sure of who and what she was and where she was going. Heather liked her. According to Margaret, when unsettling events happened in one’s life it was time for what she called a growth opportunity and change. Did Lorna’s leaving her in the lurch count as a sufficiently unsettling event? she wondered idly. Possibly the fact that she was forced to face up to how unrewarding her life was in Dublin was significant enough in the growth opportunity stakes. She didn’t have to feel inadequate or any less of a person because she didn’t like city life, Heather decided spiritedly. So she should stop beating herself with that particular stick. And so what if she hadn’t met the man of her dreams in Dublin. She’d prefer to be with a man that she liked being with, no matter what he worked at. At least she wasn’t an almighty snob and social climber like Lorna. And she got on well with her family. That was a big plus. Lorna had only gone home twice since they’d moved to Dublin and one of those visits had been for Christmas. That didn’t count. Most people went home for Christmas.

  She wasn’t the failure, Heather decided, Lorna was, and she was never going to compare herself to her cousin again. Heather felt surprisingly better about herself. Maybe this growth opportunity stuff wasn’t a bad idea. She’d give notice to the landlord and move in with Ruth until she decided what to do. One thing she was certain of, though, was that she’d had enough of Brooke, Byrne & O’Connell. Maybe as well as a change of abode it was time for a change of career. In f
act, Heather acknowledged, as she dunked a flake into her hot chocolate, it was time to take a good long look at her life and take stock. Time to make some changes!

  14

  Lorna’s fingers hovered over the telephone keys. She just couldn’t quite bring herself to dial Heather’s mobile number. It was ridiculous. What was the harm in ringing and saying ‘Hi’? Heather would have got over any annoyance she felt over Lorna’s departure by now, surely. Her cousin didn’t hold grudges and she never held a row. She’d be fine, Lorna assured herself. She’d ring and ask her out for a drink. It was worrying, though, that she hadn’t heard from her at all. Not even an angry outburst. The first week that she’d moved to Malahide, she’d been expecting to hear from Heather and every time her mobile rang her stomach had tightened with tension. But Heather hadn’t called. And that made Lorna uneasy.

  She took a deep breath and dialled the number. She heard her cousin answer, in a surprisingly cheerful voice.

  ‘Hi, Heather, it’s me. Sorry it’s been so long, I was mad busy. Would you fancy coming out for a drink?’ she invited chummily.

  ‘Get lost, Lorna, and don’t bother ringing me again. You’re the lowest of the low and I don’t want to have anything more to do with you.’ Heather’s voice dripped contempt and Lorna’s jaw dropped at her tone.

  ‘There’s no need—’ she stuttered, but she was talking to herself. Heather had hung up. Well, fuck her, Lorna fumed. She was raging now that she had phoned her cousin. She’d given Heather the chance to hang up on her. Bad move. Her cousin obviously hadn’t got over her departure. She’d sounded so … so disdainful. Heather had never spoken to her like that before. In anger, yes, but never with such contempt. It stung. Lorna didn’t like how Heather’s tone made her feel. Like she was a slug who’d crawled out of a head of cabbage or something.

  How dare she? As if she were someone of importance. Well, Heather Williams could get lost herself. She certainly wouldn’t be getting in contact again. If Heather wanted to be friends she’d have to come crawling back. And even then, Lorna would freeze her. Then she’d be sorry.