‘Well, thanks for coming in, Kasia. I’ll be in touch over the next few days.’
Laura went through the motions of shaking Kasia’s hand and giving her a brief tour of the premises before seeing her out. Later on today, when she had a spare moment, she would phone Kasia’s cousin and ex-teacher, and provided they said nothing too drastically negative she would call the girl back and offer her the job. It was clear that Kasia didn’t really want to be a nanny and that she had no direct experience with children other than her cousin’s brood, whom, it now occurred to Laura, she should have quizzed her more closely about. Other things that were clear: Kasia smoked, didn’t like cleaning, had no proper references, and in fact did not meet most of the criteria on Laura’s list. The bottom line was that Kasia was a compromise, like everything else these days.
Back in her office, staring blindly through the glass wall as though it was a portal into her own thoughts and not into the business she and her husband had built from scratch, Laura frittered away a few minutes of precious time daydreaming about jetting off on a plane, leaving the nanny problem and other drudgeries far behind, seeing new places, meeting new people and returning to a fresh, more impulsive way of life. She suddenly realised that she was jealous of Erin, jealous to such an extent that she felt rather overwhelmed, and utterly ashamed of herself. A tear trickled down her face, startling her before she roughly wiped it away. What was wrong with her today? She loved Olivia, Esteban and her job, absolutely, unquestionably. So why this sudden, mad yearning to get away from them?
Chapter 3
Erin applied a fresh coat of lip-gloss, dabbed her face with powder, and then, because she felt silly and excited and out-of-this-world happy, did an impromptu imitation of a plane taking off with her hand: up, up, up, whoosh and away. When her hand came back down to earth, she leant in closer to the mirror to examine her reflection. Her eyes were shining, excitement virtually glowing through their deep brown, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, the effects of the champagne everyone seemed so intent on forcing her to drink. The rest of her skin looked paler than its usual olive tone, probably due to the harsh lighting in the restrooms. Her hair still looked great, though, dark and sleek with lots of badly needed volume, thanks to a visit to the hairdresser that afternoon. If she could have hair like this every day, she could achieve great, great things. She giggled. That was the champagne talking … or thinking, more like.
‘Ah, so this is where the girl of the moment is hiding out!’ Her Aunt Cathy’s reflection appeared next to her in the mirror. ‘Everything all right, love?’
‘Never better,’ Erin responded and meant it.
On that reassurance, Cathy set about fixing her own lipstick, her mouth slightly apart as she applied a deep-red colour which complemented her stylishly cut blonde hair. Her knit dress was extremely flattering to her gym-toned figure, as were her very fashionable, very new, high-heeled boots. High heels were Cathy’s signature fashion item: Erin had never seen her aunt in a pair of flats. Cathy was in her mid-fifties, but could quite easily pass as a woman ten years younger.
‘Cathy, you’re my “fun” auntie. You know that, don’t you?’
‘I’m your only auntie, you goose!’
As a child, Erin had loved going to visit her aunt. Cathy still lived in the same detached house on the corner of a tree-lined street, the house having the same hint of glamour as its owner. It was a big house, capable of accommodating more people than it did – Cathy, Ian and Laura – and Erin used to fantasise about sleeping over in one of the light, airy guest rooms. Though such an invitation had not been forthcoming, Cathy had always made her feel extraordinarily welcome, laying out chocolate biscuits and fizzy drinks and, as Erin got older, supplying cast-off lipsticks, nail-polish and costume jewellery for her to take as she wished. Erin had been ambivalent about Laura back then; it was her aunt she’d looked forward to seeing. It was funny how she and Laura had become close in the long run.
‘I’m going to miss you, Cathy,’ she stated, swallowing a hiccup. She must remember to go easy on the champagne.
Cathy stopped rearranging her hair and turned to give Erin a quick hug. ‘I’ll miss you too, pet. But let’s not dwell on it – it’ll only make us both upset. Go out there and enjoy the rest of your night. Go on. Out you go.’
Erin did as she was told, thinking, as she swayed back into the party, her party, that Laura was far too harsh on her mother. Yes, Cathy was a little frivolous and not your stereotypical grandmother, but she was fun and had great zest for life, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? Life without fun was very, very dull. Sadly, Erin knew this fact firsthand.
* * * * *
Laura took a sip from her glass of wine and surveyed the party she’d organised in Erin’s honour. Family, friends and colleagues were squashed into the small function room upstairs at O’Donoghue’s pub, and everyone seemed to be mingling well and having a good time. The finger food had come out on cue, and the music was just the right volume and mix to appeal to the wide range of ages. Later on there would be cake and a speech, which would probably embarrass Erin but would be entirely appropriate for the occasion. Laura had organised it all – invitations, food, music and cake – right down to the very last detail. It had just involved making another list – a party-for-Erin list – and it had got done, just like that.
Speaking of Erin, where had she gone? Laura scanned the room, taking in the clusters of people close to the bar, some perched on stools, others standing, drinks in hand, heads bent in conversation. She swept her eyes along the rear of the function room, to the staid bench seating and low tables, but couldn’t spot her cousin. Her roving gaze caught her Uncle Gerry, who beamed a smile at her and made in her direction.
‘Ah, Laura, there you are!’ Gerry hung a friendly arm around her shoulders and planted a stubbly kiss on her cheek. ‘And where’s the better half tonight?’
‘He’s at home minding Olivia,’ Laura explained, not for the first time. Why was it so hard to go somewhere alone without fielding a thousand questions about her husband’s whereabouts? ‘We have a babysitter crisis now that Erin is leaving!’
‘Ah, you should have said something earlier,’ her uncle exclaimed. ‘Aidan could have come over … Don’t be afraid to ask him the next time you need someone to mind the little one.’
Aidan was the youngest of Gerry’s boys and, in Laura’s opinion, more irresponsible than his three brothers put together, which was quite an achievement. Olivia would be safer taking care of herself than being ‘minded’ by Aidan.
‘I’m sure Aidan is busy with his social life at college,’ she muttered as diplomatically as she could.
‘Of course, there’s Colm too.’ Gerry cupped his chin as he pondered his eldest boy’s suitability for the job. ‘Colm has a steady girlfriend now and I’m sure the two of them wouldn’t mind staying in the odd Saturday night to look after Olivia.’
Yes, Laura was sure that Colm and his new girlfriend would be quite keen to have a house practically all to themselves. Laura suddenly had a picture of her cousin making out with his girlfriend on her modular couch. She gulped some wine to obliterate the picture from her mind.
‘Don’t worry, Gerry. We have a new nanny starting next week and I’m sure that she’ll do a bit of babysitting here and there.’
‘Ah, that’s good news. Your mother will be happy – she was feeling the strain.’
Laura felt a flash of hurt, followed by a more enduring frustration. Strain? Cathy didn’t know the meaning of strain! She had an idyllic life, constantly going for coffee with her friends, scouring the internet for discount airfares and jetting off for romantic