Stand by Me (25 page)
Caryn Jacks, the PR girl, was everywhere, co-ordinating the photographers, arranging interviews with the press and making sure that people’s glasses were topped up with champagne. She insisted Dominique talk to someone from one of the papers about life with a workaholic like Brendan, and then she made her pose for a photograph in the kitchen of one of the apartments. She continually told Dominique that she was fantastic and a real asset to Brendan, because everyone liked glamorous wives.
Dominique herself felt the same buzz as she’d felt when she played Judas Iscariot in the school production of
Jesus Christ Superstar
. People were looking at her and admiring her, and it was a good feeling. The journalists seemed to like talking to her (although she kept telling herself they weren’t real journalists; they just worked for the property supplements, so it wasn’t like a proper interview or anything), and she laughed and joked with them as she sipped the never-ending glasses of champagne about how fabulous the apartments were in comparison to her own house. Then she told them about the house that Brendan was building in Cork and how nice it would be to live near his family and how lovely they all were; and then someone asked her about their own family and she told them about Kelly, and before she knew what had happened they’d managed to learn about her post-natal depression and how she was better now and how much she loved her daughter and her husband and how sometimes, when you felt that you were in the very abyss, you could come out of it again.
Jesus Christ Superstar
. People were looking at her and admiring her, and it was a good feeling. The journalists seemed to like talking to her (although she kept telling herself they weren’t real journalists; they just worked for the property supplements, so it wasn’t like a proper interview or anything), and she laughed and joked with them as she sipped the never-ending glasses of champagne about how fabulous the apartments were in comparison to her own house. Then she told them about the house that Brendan was building in Cork and how nice it would be to live near his family and how lovely they all were; and then someone asked her about their own family and she told them about Kelly, and before she knew what had happened they’d managed to learn about her post-natal depression and how she was better now and how much she loved her daughter and her husband and how sometimes, when you felt that you were in the very abyss, you could come out of it again.
She hadn’t meant to talk so much and to say so many things, but the champagne had loosened her tongue and she hadn’t been able to stop. And the journalists kept talking to her and the photographers kept taking her photo, asking her to pose at the window of the apartment, on the balcony and sitting on the marble worktop of the state-of-the-art kitchen, and she kept smiling at them and raising glasses of champagne, because she wanted to look good in the pictures for Brendan.
And so the next day the stories about the launch of the apartments ran alongside the story of Dominique Delahaye, the independent woman who was the wife of a successful man. And before she knew what had happened, she’d been asked on to the radio to talk about her marriage and her depression and share her wisdom with the listeners, and although she hadn’t wanted to do it, she felt that perhaps she owed it to other women who might be going through a hard time to tell her story.
Later that month there was another story in the newspapers about how the apartments had all sold in the first week and how everyone had been utterly charmed by Dazzling Dominique Delahaye, and how inspirational she was to women everywhere.
The headline on the piece was ‘The Domino Effect’.
Brendan was delighted with it. He cut out the article, framed it and hung it on his office wall, so that it was the first thing that anyone who came into his office saw when they walked through the door.
Chapter 13
The Domino Effect was what the PR girl, Caryn, called it too. People had seen Domino and identified with her and wanted to be like her, she told both Brendan and Dominique the week after all the apartments had sold out. Domino was a marketing phenomenon, she said.
Dominique couldn’t understand it herself.
‘I thought you’d be angry with me,’ she told Brendan. ‘I thought you’d be raging over the fact that I blabbed too much about us.’
‘Well I wasn’t very pleased to hear that I was forced into marrying you,’ he said drily, ‘or that you couldn’t bear the sight of me after Kelly was born.’
‘I didn’t put it like that,’ she told him. ‘Really I didn’t.’
‘But it doesn’t matter,’ he continued, ‘because it all worked out wonderfully and I’ve been asked about getting involved in a government housing regeneration project. I’m not sure it’s something I want to do, but I’m delighted to have been asked . . . and it’s nice to think that you’ve become an asset to Delahaye Developments at last.’
She blinked at that, wondering if he thought she’d been a liability before.
‘It’s the big step I’ve always wanted.’ He beamed. ‘The sale of the apartments was a key deal, and we’ve made a lot of money and I can do more stuff. We’re big players now, Domino. Big.’
She didn’t feel like a big player. But she was glad that he did. She knew how important it was to him.
Evelyn, Seamus and Gabriel had all been utterly gobsmacked to see the newspaper features about Larkspur and Brendan and Dominique. Evelyn thought there was something distinctly trashy about being in the papers, and she certainly didn’t approve of Dominique telling all of Ireland about her shotgun wedding and post-natal depression. It didn’t matter to her that the neighbours were all congratulating her on how well Dominique had done; she thought it was tacky to talk about your life in public, especially when you were talking about times you would surely rather forget. She told Dominique that she’d better not get a big head because she’d nothing to have a big head about, and that there were more important things in life than appearing in the weekend supplements wearing a fabulous dress.
Seamus, who also spoke to her on the phone, agreed with Evelyn (as he always did) but added that he was glad that she seemed to be happy. Dominique was mildly surprised by her father’s comment. She’d never thought that her happiness bothered him one way or the other.
Gabriel phoned her and told her that she looked amazing in the photographs but did she really think it had been a good idea to pour out her life story?
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I was a bit drunk at the time.’
‘Dominique!’
‘I’d had champagne,’ she said defensively. ‘I couldn’t help myself. But Gabriel, I did good, I really did. When I went on that radio show and talked about how I felt after Kelly was born, they had a huge response. Loads of women suffer from post-natal depression and they think they’re going crazy or that they have to go through it on their own. And they feel like I did, worthless and hopeless and terrible mothers weighed down with guilt. But the thing is, they’re not, and I’m not either.’
‘How does Kelly feel about it?’ he asked. ‘After all, she’s hearing that she was a mistake and that you never wanted her.’
‘That’s not what she’s hearing at all,’ said Dominique. ‘I sat down with her and told her that we hadn’t planned to have her when we did and that I hadn’t been well after she was born but that I love her more than anyone else in the world and will always love her. She doesn’t remember how things were back then and we get on great now, so there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Was it really that bad?’ he asked. ‘After she was born?’
‘It was the worst time of my life,’ she said simply.
‘I tried to help,’ Gabriel reminded her.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Everyone did. And I’ll always remember that.’
Everyone had tried to help, but it was only Greg who’d got through to her. She hadn’t said that in the interviews, because that would have been telling them too much. All they needed to know was that she’d got better and that she loved her daughter and that her husband was the best damn builder in the country.
She was asked to become a patron of a charity that worked with women who suffered from post-natal depression, and she agreed. She also joined two other high-profile charity boards and became a regular invitee to various social events. She liked helping the charities. She enjoyed dressing up and going out with Brendan as guests at some of Ireland’s most glamorous evenings. And she loved being Dazzling Domino Delahaye.
Brendan loved her being Dazzling Domino Delahaye too. Over the next few months, as they launched themselves on the social scene, they became known as the Dazzling Delahayes, which made him feel good. He was proud that all of his hard work over the past ten years had paid off and that he’d finally made the leap into the big league. Not yet the mega-league, of course. He wasn’t one of those builders who had helicopters and stables of sports cars and who owned islands in the sun. But he was getting there. And it was Domino who’d helped him. He was glad, now, that he’d stood by her during her depression, when he’d seriously thought about leaving. It hadn’t been because of Domino that he’d stayed, he knew that. It had been because of Kelly. From the moment she was born, he’d found himself totally beguiled by his lovely daughter. And there was no way he could have left her.
There had been times later when he’d wondered if he’d made the right choice. But now he knew that he had. Domino, his lucky charm, had worked her magic again.
It was a year later when they finally moved into the new house. They drove down from Dublin with the last of their bits and pieces in Brendan’s brand-new van, and Dominique had to swallow hard to stop herself from crying. It was ridiculous, she knew. Cork wasn’t that far away and it didn’t matter to her where she lived, although it would mean that her recent appearances at charity dinners and fund-raisers would come to an abrupt end. There was a certain element of relief in this as far as Dominique was concerned, because although she loved the popularity, it was very tiring to feel that she had to be dazzling all the time. Nevertheless, she felt good about being asked to events that twelve months earlier nobody would have thought to invite her to, and it would be a wrench to leave much of that behind. She’d continue to do the charity work, but she couldn’t see herself flitting up to Dublin every second week to live her socialite life. Her flame had burned brightly but it was time to move on.
The worst part, strangely, had been saying goodbye to her parents. When she’d first told them about the move to Cork, Seamus and Evelyn had simply said that it was disappointing that both of their children were at opposite ends of the country - something Dominique had never thought about before. The night before they left, Evelyn invited them over for dinner. She said that she was sure they didn’t have anything worth eating in the house and that they might like a decent meal. Brendan had dithered about it because he’d planned to take his wife and daughter to a restaurant for a goodbye-to-Dublin dinner, but Dominique, still stunned by the invite in the first place, had said that it was the only time her mother had ever asked them to the house and she didn’t think she could say no.
It had been an odd evening, with both her parents heaping praise on Brendan for his success and not tempering it by having a go at Dominique herself for any reason at all. Evelyn even showed her an article she’d cut out from one of the papers, entitled ‘Women of Substance’, which had included Domino.
‘Mrs Treacey heard you on the radio,’ she added. ‘Talking about the counselling centre. She said you were very good.’
‘Thanks,’ said Dominique in surprise.
‘I know I was a bit doubtful about it at first, but it’s not a bad thing for women to know they can get help,’ said Evelyn. ‘Even if you’re the one telling them.’
Dominique decided that her mother was actually paying her a compliment.
Evelyn had been warm with Kelly too, giving her an envelope with some money to buy herself ‘something nice’ when she got to her new house, which made her throw her arms around them and tell them that they were the best grandparents in the whole world. Evelyn had looked pleased and proud and Seamus had ruffled Kelly’s hair and told her that she deserved it.
After that Dominique had found leaving Dublin harder than she’d imagined (she hadn’t actually imagined it would be hard at all); but the sight of the new house, its pale pink walls bathed in the gentle light of the setting sun, had lifted her spirits. From the moment she opened the heavy front door with its Georgian-style fanlight arching over it, she felt that she really and truly was home. If she’d thought that Brendan had done a good job on the Terenure house, he had surpassed himself on Atlantic View. He had toyed with a number of names for their home, but, he’d said, it had the best views of the ocean in the country and there was no better name for it.
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