All Because of You (Lakeview #2) (29 page)

Liz, who’d been expecting some kind of argument, or at least a barrage of questions about her plans, was relieved, but also a little uneasy. Eric didn’t seem to give a damn about her life lately. It was almost as though they were beginning to live separate lives, with Toby as their one remaining connection. She wondered how much longer this could go on.

But she wasn’t going to think about it now, she told herself, as she stood in her bedroom and tried to decide what to wear. Tara was right, there was no point in trying to second-guess what was going on in her husband’s head; she’d drive herself crazy. No, tonight was about having some long overdue fun with her best friend, and knowing Tara, it was bound to be a good night – never mind that
Lakeview wasn’t exactly hot and happening and the bars were more
The Quiet Man
than
Sex and The City
.

She searched through her wardrobe, trying to find something decent to wear, something that at least wouldn’t make her look such an overweight frump alongside Tara. To her dismay, she realised that all her clothes were dark, dowdy and downright depressing, and mostly consisted of shapeless tops and too-big jeans, a throwback from her post-pregnancy days. 

Before she became pregnant with Toby she wouldn’t have been seen dead in block colours, and had a selection of vibrant, multicoloured tops and dresses that showed off a pair of legs that back then would have made Elle McPherson jealous. 

And of course in those days she’d had the figure to wear them, whereas now she was still carrying the extra stone and a half she’d gained while pregnant. Which was also the main reason she hadn’t gone clothes shopping in ages – all those gorgeous flimsy tops and clingy dresses she loved, but now hadn’t a hope of fitting into, mocking her into hiding. Hence the uninspiring wardrobe better suited to a convent than even
Lakeview’s finest.

Liz sighed. How had she so easily let herself go? Since she’d had the baby, moved to
Lakeview and started working with the dogs (who in fairness, couldn’t care less what Liz wore as long as they were fed and watered), she hadn’t given her appearance much thought. Despite her energetic walks with the dogs, she’d made no real effort to shift the weight, and of course with Eric away most evenings it was all too easy to sit in front of the telly with a four-stone bag of Minstrels and a gallon of Coke. No wonder Eric had gone off her, she thought as she examined herself in the mirror.  She was turning into Jabba the Hutt. 

“Liz, Tara’s here,
” Eric called down the hallway, and Liz jumped. Shit, Tara – here – now? She was nowhere
near
ready!

“OK, I’ll just be a second!” she called back, hoping that her friend wouldn’t mind waiting a few more minutes.

She riffled through her wardrobe once more, and eventually chose an ancient pair of black straight-leg trousers and a black chiffon top. A nice, safe, but utterly boring option. 

Having got dressed, Liz caught sight of herself in the mirror, not exactly thrilled by what she saw. Was it a fun night out or a funeral she was dressing for? She hoped against hope that Tara wasn’t dressed in one of those up-to-the-minute outfits she wore for nights out in the city, and had toned down the style a little for rural
Lakeview. But no, if anything, Tara would no doubt make double the effort at looking glam here – primarily with the express intention of getting up some of the more disapproving villagers’ noses.

Just then there was a soft knock at the bedroom door. “Liz?” she heard Tara call from outside. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Deciding that she’d just have to make do, Liz went to the dressing-table and quickly began to apply some make-up.

Liz had been right about Tara’s chosen outfit. She entered the room wearing a flamboyant emerald and purple patterned top over skinny indigo jeans and stiletto boots. A shimmering purple headscarf held back her golden locks and with her chunky beaded necklace, and bohemian gold hoop earrings, she looked dazzling – an exotic butterfly to Liz’s garden-variety housefly.  

All of this must have been written on Liz’s face because the very first words out of Tara’s mouth were: “What’s wrong?” She quickly raised a hand to her face. “Did I overshoot my lipstick?” she said jokingly. “Is my mascara running … what?”

Liz had to laugh. “No, no, you look perfect, stunning in fact. And I look like such a frump beside you.” She sighed and stared again at her reflection in the mirror. “Tara, when did I turn into a middle-aged woman? No, I take that back, most middle-aged women look a million times better than I do these days.”

“Don’t be silly, you look great! Although, you could probably do with a little more colour. Here,”  She quickly removed her sparkling headscarf and tied it jauntily around Liz’s neck. 

Instantly the outfit came to life and Tara’s cheery optimism (and her nifty accessorising) had the effect of erasing all of Liz’s insecurities and buoying her mood.

“Oh, I couldn’t …” she began, wishing that instead of whinging about her lack of colourful clothes, she’d thought about accessorising what she had. But that was Tara, full of great ideas. 

“Of course you can – it’s gorgeous on you,” Tara replied, waving away her protests.  “Now, do you have a thick bangle, or some dangly earrings perhaps? Something like that and a pair of silve
r strappy heels, and we’re away.”

“Will these do?” Liz held up a pair of drop diamante earrings and Tara nodded her approval. Then, quickly finishing her make-up, Liz checked her appearance once more before they headed back out to the living room and said goodbye to Eric and Toby. 

“Have a good night,” Eric said with a smile, and Toby, who didn’t seem in the least bit bothered that his mum was leaving him, waved half-heartedly as she went out the door. 

So much for being indispensable
, she thought wryly, as she and Tara went on their way. She’d thought that there’d be mighty histrionics when she went to leave. But, she supposed, this was even better – now she didn’t have to feel guilty.  

Feeling happier and more confident than she’d been in ages, Liz followed her best friend down the driveway, and prepared for a rip-roaring night out on the town.

As she and Liz made their way across the bridge to the centre of Lakeview village, Tara breathed an inward sigh of relief. This girly night out had been a brainwave. During the short walk from her house, Liz had been chatty, animated and was behaving much more like her old self. 

Tara knew her friend seriously needed the opportunity to have fun and take her mind off things – especially her worries about Eric.

As well as worrying about her marriage, Liz was in all likelihood also feeling a little lonely and out of place while trying to settle into motherhood and life away from Dublin – which was understandable, really. It was plain to see that the move to the sticks hadn’t had yet yielded the lifestyle improvements she and Eric had anticipated – if anything it had been the opposite. And while it wasn’t as though the villagers here were clannish, Tara knew better than most that they were set in their ways, and it could well be very difficult for a ‘stranger’ to easily become part of this community. 

At the moment, Liz was simply finding it difficult to adjust, but with a bit of time, she’d be fine. 

Tara’s heart had gone out to her when she’d seen her standing in front of the mirror, her insecurities about her appearance written all over her face. Though she managed to conceal the fact, she knew at once that Liz had been worrying about what to wear, particularly as she and Eric had been trying to save money in order to do up the cottage, and Liz hadn’t gone clothes shopping properly since having Toby. And of course, she was still carrying the few extra pounds she’d put on while pregnant, which Tara understood didn’t particularly make you feel like a million dollars. For this reason, she’d insisted that Liz borrow her sparkly headscarf and wear a pair of glam heels. When it came to boosting self-confidence, Tara was a firm believer in the power of fabulous shoes. Although perhaps some of the male clients she coached might not agree, she thought with a grin. 

Now, if Liz were a client of hers, Tara would spend time helping her realise that she was feeling insecure and worried because she was finding it hard to settle, and could very well be expressing these feelings as anxieties about her marriage. But Liz
wasn’t
a client, so it was doubly important for Tara to refrain from using her coaching techniques in this regard. 

Instead, she’d try to do what any decent friend would do, and just be there to cheer Liz up and make her feel better about her troubles, rather than try to solve them for her. Liz wouldn’t appreciate being ‘coached’ by her best friend and it would be wholly unethical for Tara do so, although it was frustrating watching her wrestling with her insecurities like that. And she had enough on her plate at the moment coaching Natalie – although she wasn’t really a friend. She was more of a close acquaintance really which is why Tara had eventually acquiesced to helping her out, albeit in a less formal coaching scenario. Still, tonight would be good for Liz, and despite her earlier concerns about her wardrobe, she now seemed raring to go.

Tara looked at her watch. “I booked The Steakhouse for seven thirty, so we’ve still time to get in a quick drink in the Bridge beforehand.” 

“Great, I’m absolutely starving, but I wouldn’t mind a drink to kick things off.”

“Now, now, take it easy, you,” Tara scolded good-naturedly. “It’s been a while since you’ve done this, remember?”

“I know and I think that’s half the problem,” Liz grinned. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out, I can barely remember what the inside of a bar looks like.” She pushed open the entrance of the pub and Tara followed her inside. “No, hang on – I think it’s coming back to me!” she added with a delighted wink, and sounding much more like the old Liz.

The two took a seat at the bar and Tara promptly ordered a glass of champagne for Liz, and asked the barman to fill another glass with sparkling lemonade for herself. Liz had been thrilled at this little luxury but the champagne flutes caused much consternation amongst some of the locals present, who thought it outrageous altogether that these two glamour-pusses should be drinking champagne like celebrities (despite the fact that Tara was having mere lemonade). And one of them supposedly married and with a baby! Who did they think they were? 

Keenly aware of the stir they were creating, the two girls grinned at one another as they clinked glasses and drank to a good night out, Tara remembering too late that her showy antics had probably scuppered any chance Liz had of fitting in here now! But these begrudgers weren’t the kind of people her friend would want to get to know anyway. Quick to criticize and even quicker to judge, that was most of the older inhabitants of
Lakeview, and Tara had spent much of her adult life trying to rise above it.

“Hello, Tara – isn’t it well you’re looking these days?” said a male voice from behind them.

Tara looked around to see Dave McNamara, yet another old school-mate of hers, approach the bar.

“You, too, Dave,” she replied warmly. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Not too bad.” Dave nodded a greeting at Liz, who evidently he didn’t know.

“This is Liz McGrath,” Tara said, remembering her manners. “Liz, meet Dave – he was in the same class as me and Eric. Dave – this is Eric McGrath’s wife, Liz. She runs the boarding kennels across town.” She was extra careful to give Liz’s business a bit of a mention, seeing as Dave was not only the local councillor, but also head of the
Lakeview Heritage Committee. As a result he was hugely influential in the village and could possibly put some business Liz’s way. 

“Pleased to meet you, Liz. How
is
Eric these days? Keeping well, I hope.”

As Dave flashed Liz his best politician’s smile, Tara hid a grin. A notorious womaniser when they were younger, it was no real surprise that  Dave McNamara had ended up employing his legendary charm in politics.

“So can I get you two ladies a drink?” he asked, nodding at the barman.

“Thanks, but no, you work away,” said Tara. “We’re moving on soon.”

Dave stood alongside them at the bar as he waited for his pint. “So, I hear that  Emma’s moved back from Dublin and returned to the Lakeview fold,” he said conversationally to Tara. “Any sign of yourself doing the same?”

“No fear of that. Anyway, after all this time I don’t think
Lakeview would be able for me. Oh, by the way, congratulations,” she said, remembering. “I hear you got engaged recently?”

Dave nodded proudly. “I did indeed. I’ll bet you’r
e sorry now you missed the boat. I tried my best with this one a long time ago,” he said to Liz, who looked perplexed, “but she didn’t want to know, so eventually I had to look elsewhere.”

“And look else
where you did – everywhere else.” Tara joked, while Dave looked bashful.

“Better not let my other half hear that – she’s from out of town and knows nothing about my sordid history.”

“Well, she’s probably better off.” Tara was enjoying teasing him. “But I hear she’s lovely, and rumour has it she’s also the right one to keep you on your toes. Have you set a date for the wedding?”