Someone Like You (50 page)

Leonie’s sympathy on the phone was like a balm to Hannah’s wounded heart.

‘Come and stay the night,’ Leonie urged. ‘You can go into work from here tomorrow and that way you can have a couple of glasses of wine with me. Have you eaten?’ she asked, practical as ever.

‘I couldn’t eat,’ Hannah said dully.

‘Yes you can.’ Leonie was firm. ‘I’ve just the thing for you: seafood chowder. I made it earlier and there’s loads left.’

Hannah couldn’t imagine eating a single morsel of food.

Drinking was another matter, however, so she stopped at an off licence en route and recklessly bought three bottles of wine. But when she arrived at Leonie’s, the scent of fragrant hot chowder made her stomach leap with hunger.

‘I didn’t think I could manage a single mouthful, but that smells wonderful,’ she said, peering into the saucepan where the soup bubbled invitingly. Leonie’s lovely golden dog leaned against her legs, eager to have her ears rubbed.

‘Aren’t you a good girl,’ Hannah crooned at Penny, after crouching down on the floor to hug her properly. Penny basked in this new source of adoration.

Mel, Abby and Danny all trooped into the kitchen to say hello but Leonie shooed them away after a few minutes.

‘You were all grumbling earlier that I wanted to watch The Bodyguard, and you hated it,’ she informed them.

‘Now you have the telly to yourselves and you all decide you want to be in the kitchen. Scram.’

‘You’re not going to drink all that wine, are you?’ said Danny, mildly scandalized at the thought of his mother and Hannah consuming three bottles between them. He and his pals wouldn’t think twice about drinking that much, but his mother. He was sure he’d heard that women shouldn’t drink as much as men.

‘Yes, we are,’ she said with a wicked grin, shutting the kitchen door firmly behind him.

On their own at last, she hugged Hannah tightly. ‘Don’t cry,’ she warned. ‘Wait till you’ve had your chowder and then we’ll get the wine going and you can sob till you drop.

But you need something in your stomach.’

Hannah nodded tearfully. It was lovely being mothered like this. She sat at the table while Leonie ladled up a huge steaming bowl of chowder. “Hannah buttered a soft roll and tucked in. Penny sat by her side, looking mournfully at Hannah as if to say she never got a bite in her life and would dearly love just a teensy, weensy little crumb.

‘That was gorgeous,’ Hannah said appreciatively when she put down her spoon finally after finishing the whole lot. ‘I wish I could cook like that. Felix joked that I should start my own cookery school - the Tin-Opener Cook.’

Her mouth trembled. Felix again. He was haunting her thoughts. She began td cry softly and Leonie whisked away the dishes, produced a box of tissues and opened the first bottle of wine.

‘Tell me everything,’ Leonie said gently, pouring glasses for them both.

Halfway through the second bottle, Leonie was groaning that she’d regret it in the morning and Hannah was feeling a lot better. Good food, nice wine and the comfort of her dear friend had helped immeasurably. So had the presence of the lovely golden retriever, who seemed to understand that Hannah was heartbroken, and had sat loyally near the table all evening, distributing licks to both women at intervals.

When Hannah was worn out talking about Felix, Leonie talked about Ray’s wedding and how insecure she’d felt when she watched the twins with their new stepmother.

‘You should see her,’ Leonie sighed. ‘Fliss is incredible, your basic nightmare. Clever, gorgeous, slim, nice. That’s the killing thing, you know. She’s a lovely person, genuinely lovely. If she was a conniving bitch it would be much easier to hate her, but she’s kind, warm and wonderful. The twins adore her and Danny would do anything for her.’

Hannah poured Leonie another glass of wine.

‘I shouldn’t,’ said Leonie, taking a deep slug. ‘She and Ray phoned three times from their honeymoon. Now, I know Ray loves the kids, but I also know that he wouldn’t have phoned three times. It was Fliss’s idea. She told me on the phone it’s vitally important that the kids don’t think she’s taking their father away from them. She wants them to be more a part of his life than ever before.’ Miserably, she took another huge gulp of wine. ‘How can you hate someone like that? And she keeps sending the most incredible presents to them all. Donna Karan denim jackets for the girls because they liked her one, and some new MP3

thing for Danny. Oh yeah, stacks of perfume and silly things like sparkly nail varnish. I’m too busy cooking dinner to think about buying them sparkly nail varnish,’

she finished gloomily.

‘That’s all very nice,’ Hannah said tipsily, ‘but you’re their mother, Leonie. You shouldn’t feel so threatened by her. They’re not going to forget that for a designer denim jacket, are they?’

Leonie snorted. ‘They’re teenagers! They’d go off with Jack the Ripper if he came up with the correct designer wear.’

‘Well,’ comforted Hannah, ‘they don’t see her that much, do they?’

‘That’s the thing,’ Leonie said, draining her glass and holding it out for a refill, ‘she wants them to go to Boston as often as they can. Am I being selfish in not wanting them to go?’

‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ advised Hannah. ‘It’s a difficult situation. Do you have any crisps?

‘I’m so tired,’ Hannah said after just one glass of the third bottle she’d insisted on opening. It was half past twelve and she felt limp with exhaustion, the way she felt after a mammoth session in the gym. ‘I think I’ll go to bed.

If you show me where the blankets are, Leonie, I’ll make up a bed on the couch.’

‘No you won’t,’ Leonie said. ‘I’ve got a double bed and you can bunk in with me. According to Danny’s mates, sleeping on that couch is like sleeping on a bed of nails; I wouldn’t put you through it. My bed’s lovely, as long as you don’t mind…”

‘Don’t be silly,’ Hannah said, a fresh crop of tears welling up in her eyes at Leonie’s kindness. ‘You feed me, take care of me and now you’re letting me sleep in .your bed.’

‘Only if you don’t mind a big lump jumping into the bed in the middle of the night,’ Leonie said, trying to make Hannah laugh. ‘Penny sleeps on her bean bag for half the night and then gets lonely by about four a.m., when she dives on top of me. If you’re very good, she’ll lick your make-up off in the morning!’

They both laughed at this and Penny joined in, barking delightedly.

‘Come on,’ Leonie added, opening the kitchen door and leading Hannah to her room. ‘You sort yourself out and I’ll let Penny into the garden for her ablutions.’

‘You’re finally out of the kitchen?’ Danny said, popping his head round his bedroom door. ‘I’m starving and I didn’t want to interrupt the boozing session.’

‘I think he has a tapeworm living inside him,’ Leonie remarked to Hannah. ‘It’s the only explanation I can come up with for why he eats so much and stays like a whippet.’

‘Well, if you’ve got a tapeworm inside you, Mum,’

Danny laughed minutes later, when Leonie returned to the kitchen to see him making a ham sandwich, ‘it’s drunk after all the wine you’ve had. Three bottles, you old alco!’

‘Ha ha,’ she said, giving him a mock slap on the bum.

‘I’m still the boss round here, sweetie-pie. I’ll withdraw your fridge privileges if you keep slagging off your old mother, right?’

‘Yes, wonderful, non-alcoholic mother,’ Danny mumbled with his mouth full of sandwich. ‘Your wish is my command.’

Hannah’s head throbbed when she woke up, instinctively knowing she was in a strange place. The bed felt different and she didn’t have dusky pink sheets, surely? Just then, another pink thing loomed: a long pink tongue began affectionately licking her face.

‘Penny,’ said Hannah fondly, remembering where she was and why she had a hangover. ‘You darling. What a nice way to wake up, with someone kissing you.’

Penny threw herself down beside Hannah and waited to be petted. Hannah did so mechanically, that ache at the back of her eyes telling her that being licked awake by a dog was the nearest she was going to come to affection in the morning for the rest of her life. She gulped fiercely, determined not to cry again. Penny squirmed and made growly noises which Hannah correctly interpreted as meaning, Pet me some more, on my belly. Maybe she should get a dog. She’d love one, but it would hardly be fair to the poor dog seeing the hours she put in at the office. You couldn’t leave a dog on its own all day. Or maybe if she got two dogs, they could keep each other company.

‘Maybe I’ll steal you, Penny, and bring you home with me,’ she said, sitting up and playing with the dog.

Penny replied with more delighted growly noises, rolling on to her back for more comprehensive adoration.

‘She’s a shameless hussy,’ Leonie said, arriving with breakfast. ‘Rub her tummy and she’s anyone’s. I brought you some toast, juice and coffee. Danny is actually making bacon sandwiches, but I didn’t think you’d be up to anything that advanced.’

‘Quite right.’ Hannah’s stomach lurched at the thought of greasy congealed bacon. But toast and coffee she could manage. ‘You’re spoiling me, Leonie,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘Ah, shut up, would you,’ Leonie replied. ‘Wait till you get the bill. Get off the bed, Penny. She’ll spill your coffee if she decides to move,’ she told Hannah. With a disgruntled Penny off the bed, Leonie laid the tray on Hannah’s lap.

‘It’s half seven, so you don’t have much time if you want to be in work by eight forty-five,’ she warned. ‘I’m going to have a quick shower to make myself presentable. It’s all your fault I’m hungover, Campbell, you brat. I’ll have to use the liquid cement make-up this morning to cover up die ravages of last night.’

Hannah grinned and attacked her orange juice gratefully.

By eight forty-five, she was parking her car near the office, feeling a damn sight better than she had any right to. Leonie’s kindness, not to mention the hysteria that ensued in the Delaney household in the morning as three teenagers all vied with each other for bathroom time, had cheered her up immensely. Listening to Mel and Danny sparking off each other like two comedians would have to make you laugh. It was all part of the rich tapestry of post-Felix life, proof that life moved on no matter what.

She breathed deeply a few times, trying to fill herself with calming energy, as the yoga-teaching aerobics instructor in her gym advised. Then she marched into the office, determined to get through this day as best she could.

It wasn’t easy. Gillian had a grievance about Carrie, the receptionist, something to do with the pecking order, Hannah knew.

‘Honestly, I wouldn’t mind, but it’s the second time this week she’s told someone I wasn’t at my desk when I’d just nipped to the loo,’ Gillian droned, having hopped on Hannah as soon as she’d arrived, determined to get her side of the story to as many people as possible in case of repercussions.

‘What did you say to Carrie?’ Hannah asked wearily, knowing she should really tell Gillian that it was no longer her job to referee office squabbles. That was Sasha’s bailiwick now, thankfully. She was office manager, not Hannah. But she wasn’t up to a full-scale fight with Gillian.

‘I said she should mind her job because she wouldn’t be here long if she couldn’t tell the difference between someone being in the loo and not being at their desk,’ Gillian said hotly.

Hannah tried to make sense of this bewildering sentence.

‘Well, you weren’t at your desk, were you?’ she said, giving up her attempts to remain neutral. Gillian was bloody irritating. ‘So Carrie was right to say you weren’t there.

It’s better than saying you’re in the ladies’, isn’t it?’

Gillian swelled up in indignation. ‘I might have known you’d take her side,’ she hissed. ‘It’s outrageous. You’ve had it in for me ever since you came here! I know your type, Hannah Campbell. You’re nothing but a jumped-up, bog-trotting culchie from the back of beyond and I can see through you, even if nobody else does!’

Big mistake, Hannah thought icily. Gillian had picked the one day in a million when it wasn’t wise to argue with Hannah. Slowly and quietly, like a lioness selecting which impala she’d kill, Hannah moved closer to Gillian until she was standing a mere two feet away from her. The rest of the people in the office, who’d all heard Gillian’s last outburst, held their breath.

‘This sort of unprofessional behaviour is why you’ve been bypassed for promotion every time, Gillian,’ she said, making sure she was speaking loud enough for all the onlookers to hear. ‘You fail utterly to see that it’s your fault you haven’t been made office manager because the reality is that you are lazy, slapdash and determined to do as little as possible with maximum fuss. If you spent half as much time on your job as you do on manufacturing personal grievances against other members of staff, you might be worth something to this company. But you can’t see that, Gillian. You’re hyper-aware of everyone else’s faults and blind to your own. If you’re not at your desk when your phone rings, then Carrie is correct in saying you’re not at your desk. That’s not personal, that’s doing her job. And because I pointed that out to you, you decided to launch a vicious personal attack on me with everybody listening. Not very wise, if you want to keep your job.’

Gillian paled.

‘I will be writing a memo on all of this to Mr James, although I’ve no doubt he heard most of it.’ She gestured towards the reception where David stood listening, briefcase and newspaper in hand, an unforgiving expression on his face.

Gillian went even whiter under her orangey panstick.

She hadn’t heard him come in.

‘Finally, Gillian, I am proud to come from the country, and if that makes me a “culchie”, then so be it. At least I don’t try and disguise my roots by adopting a false accent.’

She’d been professional up to then, but Hannah, tired, angry and heartsore, couldn’t resist one low jibe at Gillian, who did her best to hide her normal Dublin accent with a posh twist when she was trying to impress anyone.

‘Hannah, would you be so kind as to join me in my office,’ David James said, walking past. ‘We need to have a discussion on staff.’