‘What makes you think that? It doesn’t cost all that much to hire a costume.’
‘He’s here, isn’t he? If he’s a friend of David’s, he’s bound to be rich.’
‘We’re here, aren’t we?’
‘True,’ Lesley conceded. ‘Still, you have to admit that costume is pretty ritzy.’
‘Maybe he owns it,’ Romy said. ‘He’s probably some Star Wars nerd. Anyway, I don’t care if he’s Bill Gates, I’m not interested
.’
‘He’s not Bill Gates,’ Lesley said. ‘He’s too tall
.’
‘Well, I don’t care if he’s not Bill Gates either – I’m still not interested
.’
Lesley turned to her with an exasperated sigh. ‘When was the last time you got laid?’ she asked, her hand on her hip. She might have looked mildly threatening if she hadn’t been dressed as an Oompa-Loompa
.
‘It was … a while ago.’
‘It was Gary, right? That was nine months ago, Romy. Nine months!’
‘Well, I’ve waited nine months. I can wait a bit longer.’
‘How much longer? Nothing’s ever going to happen if you don’t put yourself out there, take a few chances.’
‘I am putting myself out there. I’m here, amn’t I?’ Romy said, waving a hand around to indicate the party.
She was here, but she really wished she wasn’t. She had only come because Lesley was so excited about getting invited to a party at David Kinsella’s house and hadn’t wanted to come alone. She had begged and pleaded with Romy to come, until
eventually Romy had capitulated. It wasn’t the sort of party they would usually be invited to. They had been at school with David Kinsella, but since then he had become an entrepreneur, and made billions from a business empire that had started out with a single bar, but had grown and diversified to encompass strings of nightclubs and restaurants all over the country as well as a vast property portfolio. He had consolidated his position by marrying an heiress and well-known socialite – a former model who now spent most of her time eating out for charity. Lesley and Romy no longer mixed in the same circles as David, but he occasionally threw the old crowd a bone and invited them all to one of his flash parties. Lesley had been gagging at the prospect of a night of free champagne, a nose around David’s mansion and the chance to get a look at how the other half live. Romy was trying to get into the spirit of it for Lesley’s sake, but it wasn’t working. She really didn’t want to be here.
‘I shouldn’t have come,’ she said to Lesley.
‘Sure what else would you be doing?’
‘That new tenant I was telling you about moved in yesterday. I could have had her to dinner, helped her get settled.’
‘Romy, you’re her landlady, not her mother.’
‘I should hope not! She’s old enough to be my grandmother.’
‘That’s a bit sad, isn’t it – renting at that age? I hope I don’t end up like that
.’
‘You could do worse. I don’t think there’s anything sad about May. I get the impression she’s had a very interesting life – and still has. When she came to see the place, she asked me if it would be okay for her to have men stay over.’
‘Fair play to her!’
‘She probably has a more active sex life than I have.’
‘That wouldn’t be hard.’
‘Well at least someone in my house will be getting some action.’
‘A pensioner! Does that
not make you feel even a little bit ashamed of yourself?’
‘Nope.’
Romy took a sip of her champagne and glanced across the room. Darth Vader was still staring, and she looked away again quickly. ‘Someone should have told that guy it’s rude to stare,’ she mumbled to Lesley. ‘What’s he looking at anyway? There’s nothing to see here.’
‘Maybe he just likes the cut of your jib,’ Lesley said cheerfully.
‘He hasn’t seen my jib. He can’t see my face and it’s not as if I’m showing any flesh.’ She had rejected all the slutty costumes in the shops and made herself a proper old-fashioned Red Riding Hood outfit.
‘No, you could be a nun,’ Lesley said.
‘Why doesn’t he stare at that Snow White right beside him? She looks like she’d be glad of the attention.’
‘God, is that who she’s supposed to be? I’d never have guessed.’
‘Yeah – Snow White, the lap-dancing years.’
Lesley laughed.
‘Damn!’ Romy said as she tried to sip champagne through her mask. ‘Why did David insist on these bloody masks? It’s ridiculous.’
‘He gave me some guff about how it would make us all equal and help break the ice – get everyone mingling. Otherwise, you know, us plebs might be too in awe of his cronies to talk to them – and they wouldn’t bother to talk to the likes of us.’
‘Huh! I think he was just trying to skimp on the champagne.’
‘I bet he just did it so he can get off with anyone he likes and claim afterwards that he thought it was his wife.’
‘Well, well, well, who have we got here?’ A very fat Shrek suddenly loomed up on them. ‘Your host at your service,’ he said, with a little bow.
Crap, Romy thought. Maybe
David wanted the masks so he could sneak up on his guests and catch them bitching about him.
‘Hi, David, great party,’ Lesley said. ‘I’m Lesley, and Red Riding Hood here is Romy.’
‘Ah, great to see you, girls. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.’
David may have done better for himself than his old classmates, but at least he wasn’t ageing well. His hair was thinning, and years of good living had left him paunchy and bloated.
‘So, what are you girls up to these days? Still dabbling in property, Romy?’
Romy seethed at his condescending use of the word ‘dabbling’. He knew damn well that she was a full-time property developer. She may only be a one-man band, but she was very good at what she did, and was well respected in the business. She had a solid reputation as a first-class developer and her properties were always in demand and sold easily – or as easily as the market would allow. ‘Yes, I’m still in the property business,’ she replied, determined not to let him get to her.
David sucked his breath in through his teeth. ‘Not a good time for anyone in that business. I was lucky – saw it coming and got out before the shit really hit the fan.’
And got bailed out by NAMA probably, Romy thought.
‘You must be finding it tough?’ he asked.
‘Of course – isn’t everyone? But I’m doing okay. I never over-extended myself in the first place, so I wasn’t hit too hard. I’m just riding it out, living on rental income.’
‘Good, good – glad to hear it,’ David said, but she could tell from his tone that he was disappointed not to have the opportunity to lord it over her. ‘I was sorry to hear about your dad, by the way.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ Romy mumbled. Shit! She could feel tears
stinging the backs of her eyes, and she was grateful now that she had the mask to hide behind.
‘Was it sudden, or had he been sick for—’
‘I was made redundant,’ Lesley cut in.
‘Oh, sorry to hear that,’ David said, sounding delighted. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help …’ he trailed off, glancing around the room.
‘I’m grand, thanks. I’m doing freelance web design now, and it’s going pretty well.’
‘Great!’ he said distractedly. ‘I’m not going to be here much longer anyway. Katie and I are shipping out, moving to Canada. This country has had it.’ His eyes roved around the room restlessly as he spoke. ‘Well, nice to see you both. I’d better go and mingle. Enjoy yourselves, girls.’
‘Yeah, thanks David,’ Lesley called after him. ‘Gobshite!’ she said as soon as he was out of earshot.
‘Thanks,’ Romy said, ‘for, you know, jumping in there …’
‘No bother,’ Lesley said.
Even through her mask, Romy could feel Lesley’s uncomprehending look. She knew Lesley didn’t understand why any mention of her father’s death still filled her with horror and threatened to turn her into a trembling wreck. It was almost two months since he’d died, and it wasn’t as if it was a shock – he had been sick for a very long time. She knew everyone thought she should be starting to get over it by now. But they didn’t know her secret. No one knew what had happened the night her father died – which made her all the more grateful to Lesley for her unquestioning support.
‘He’s such a prick!’ Romy said, her eyes following David as he worked his way around the room.
‘Well, all the more reason to drink him out of house and home,’ Lesley said cheerfully before draining her champagne glass and reaching for another as a waiter circulated with a tray.
‘It’d take a long
time to drink David out of house and home,’ Romy said, glancing around the huge reception room. Light from the massive chandeliers overhead danced off the crystal champagne glasses, and banks of fresh flowers stood on marble tables with ornate gilded legs, releasing their heady perfume into the room. Lesley had gasped earlier when, after they had driven through the electronic gates and up a long, sweeping drive lit by flaming torches, their taxi had been waved to a stop on the crunchy gravel in front of the entrance by a uniformed attendant. In the vast entrance hall, a string quartet was positioned on the balconied landing at the top of a curved double staircase, the gentle strains of Mozart floating down to greet the guests as they arrived. David’s home was a monument to the Celtic Tiger, a remnant of an era that already seemed light years away. It was like visiting the Palace of Versailles – so opulent and ostentatious, and so far removed from real life.
‘Well, we’ve got all night,’ Lesley said now. ‘Drink up!’
Romy grabbed another glass of champagne. Maybe she should get drunk. It might help get her in the party mood. She felt antsy and agitated, and she regretted letting Lesley talk her into coming. She just wanted to go outside and scream her lungs out; or race home, curl up under her duvet and cry herself to sleep. Maybe drinking herself into oblivion would be a suitable alternative.
‘Right, we should get mingling,’ Lesley said.
Romy looked around at the sea of blank anonymous masks and her heart sank. There were probably people she knew here – other people from the old neighbourhood – but she had no way of knowing who they were, and she was in no mood for making small talk with strangers. She wondered which of her old friends were here, and suddenly she realised she was wondering about one person in particular – Kit. It wasn’t likely he would be at David’s party. She knew he was home from
New York – her mother had told her – but as far as she knew, he never got in touch with any of the old crowd when he was back. He’d certainly never contacted her.
She shook her head, annoyed with herself. She was being ridiculous. What difference would it make if Kit was here? They didn’t even know each other anymore. He lived in New York, and they hadn’t seen each other in years. It wasn’t as if they could go back to what they’d had. She was just feeling sad and a bit lonely, longing for the comfort of being really close to someone. For the first time in ages, she wished she was still with Gary. Damn it, she couldn’t hack this. She didn’t like David and she didn’t want to be at his party with all these people she didn’t know.
‘Lesley, I’m sorry, but I—’
‘You want to go?’ Lesley guessed.
Romy nodded, feeling like the worst flake. ‘I’m really sorry. Do you mind?’
‘No, I’m fine. Go on. I know I bamboozled you into coming in the first place.’
‘Thanks,’ Romy said with an apologetic smile that she realised Lesley couldn’t see. At least Lesley knew this wasn’t like her. Romy was somebody who saw things through, and she was usually completely dependable as a friend, sibling, daughter …
Shaking the thought away, she hugged her friend goodbye and started to make her way out. She was trying to squeeze past a large group of people by the door, deep in drunken shouty conversation and oblivious to her attempts to get through, when suddenly she felt someone grab her hand from behind. She spun around expecting to see Lesley, and instead found herself face to face – well, mask to mask – with Darth Vader.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked, his voice slightly muffled by his helmet.
She said nothing, shaking
her hand out of his grasp.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, bending his head closer to hers in a strangely intimate way. He took her hand again, his gloved fingers stroking hers.
‘I – I’m fine.’
‘You don’t seem fine. You’re upset.’
How could he tell? He couldn’t even see her face.
‘Are you angry with me?’
She suddenly realised that he was still holding her hand and she pulled it away. ‘No! Of course not. Though you were staring.’