The Hat Shop on the Corner (27 page)

‘Come on, we’re all going to Eddie Rocket’s for something to eat,’ offered Kim. Ellie was too tired and upset and after tonight’s fiasco all she wanted was to get home.

‘Well, you’re getting a taxi, then,’ said Kim and Fergus, putting her into one in Dawson Street. ‘We’ll give you a call tomorrow.’

The taxi driver had only just gone past the Dáil when she asked him to stop and let her out at the Shelbourne Hotel as she suddenly felt she needed fresh air. Those were dreaded words to the taxi community and, fearing the worst, he had her out of the taxi in a shot. Ellie leaned against the rails as she tried to collect herself. It had been a wonderful night up to the point when she had seen Rory. He was such a liar. She’d been fooling herself all along. She took in a few gulps of air and began to walk slowly. She should never have drunk so much. Champagne and red wine, never. She tried to step out of the way of a crowd of businessmen standing outside the hotel. The smell of cigars and brandy hung in the air.

‘Ellie!’

Her heart plummeted. She didn’t want anyone she knew to see her in this state.

‘Are you all right?’ Neil Harrington asked, concerned, moving away from the group.

‘I’m just walking home,’ she tried to say gaily.

‘You seem to like doing that,’ he said dryly. ‘Are you alone?’

‘Well, no, I wasn’t alone. I mean . . . I am now. I was at a birthday thing with friends and we all went to Lillie’s after. But now I want to go home,’ she explained, holding on to the hotel railings for support.

‘I think you should let me walk you home,’ he said firmly.

Ellie was about to protest but felt suddenly glad to have someone like Neil offering to escort her.

‘Let’s go,’ he suggested, saying a brief goodnight to his colleagues.

‘And what are you doing out at this late hour of the night, Mr Harrington, might I ask?’ she giggled, trying to keep up with his long legs.

‘Having a farewell dinner with a legal colleague who is moving to Prague.’

‘Prague? I’ve never been to Prague,’ she sighed, catching his arm. ‘It’s meant to be beautiful and romantic, a city for lovers. That is, people who do have lovers!’

He said nothing as they crossed the road.

‘You probably have hundreds!’ she said argumentatively. ‘I have none. I’m being honest! Not even one.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ he said softly.

‘Well, it’s true,’ she said, putting her head in her hands, feeling like she was going to cry or puke and she wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Neil stood patiently beside her till the feeling passed.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I’ll live.’

He took her hand as they crossed the road, the two of them watching a cat raid the boxes and bins outside a Leeson Street sandwich bar.

‘Nearly there,’ he said, coaxing her along as if she was a reluctant three-year-old.

The granite steps of number 44 Lower Hatch Street reared up in front of her and Neil took her key to open the entrance door.

‘Will you manage?’ he asked.

She gazed up at the steep flight of stairs and the yellow-patterned carpet.

‘Forget Prague, it’s Paris I want to go to,’ she crooned. ‘My mother grew up there, did you know that? All the women have lovers there, everyone does and no one cares about it. People don’t get hurt. They mind their own business.’

‘What floor are you on?’ he demanded.

‘The first, but I’m just going to sit down here for a little rest,’ she said, trying to lower herself on to the granite steps.

‘That’s not a good idea.’ He lifted her to her feet and helped her up the steps to the first landing. She felt like a floppy rag doll as he managed to get her up another floor and manoeuvred to open the flat door and get her inside. Ellie felt herself spinning, spinning, as she pointed out the bedroom.

She woke to her head throbbing and her mouth dry and the sound of a heartbeat, slow and regular. After a few seconds she realized it wasn’t her own and that she was lying across someone’s chest. For a moment she thought it was Rory, and then she remembered the night before. Cringing, she saw she was curled up on top of Neil Harrington, who was still fully clothed in a navy pinstripe suit, his dark hair standing on end. God, this was awful; by far the most embarrassing thing she had ever done in her entire life. Maybe she could pretend to be asleep and move off him and he would get up and go.

‘You awake?’ he asked gently, before she could do anything.

She nodded, too ashamed to speak.

‘Are you all right?’

Why was he always looking out for her? Catching her at her worst?

‘Yeah!’ she groaned, giving a huge sigh. ‘Listen, Neil. I’m sorry about last night. I’m so embarrassed.’

‘Nothing happened,’ he said quietly, moving her hair back off her face so he could see her better.

‘Honest?’

‘We’re both fully dressed.’

‘Why didn’t you leave?’

‘I wanted to make sure you were OK during the night.’

She moved to get up, to lift herself off him at least. She must have had him pinioned there all night. God, it was too awful to imagine.

‘Stay,’ he said, pulling her back down beside him. ‘You’re awake now.’

She felt his lips brush her forehead.

She closed her eyes and fell back into his arms. It was lovely lying here with him. But the pleasurable experience lasted only a minute. God, this was not what she had planned or imagined! What must Neil think of her?

‘I must have been like a crazy person last night, Neil, I’m so sorry,’ she apologized again, moving away from him. ‘I was upset and got drunk and I must have been really stupid and pathetic and talking nonsense, so please disregard anything I said.’

He laughed, sitting up properly and fixing his shirt and jacket. ‘You asked me to go to Paris with you.’

Ellie blushed red, red, red.

‘And what else?’ she said with a sinking feeling, seeing the mockery in his eyes.

‘You told me what we’d do when we got to Paris!’

No! No! No!

She knew by the laughter in his eyes that she had not been talking about the tourist trail. Ellie cursed her own romantic imagination and vowed never to drink so much as a drop of champagne again.

He looked pretty shattered. Unshaven, suit crumpled, hair all over the place.

‘Did you get to sleep at all?’ she asked, shamefaced.

‘A little, but you sang, you snored, you told me your plans for Paris. That was the nice bit – and then you snored again.’

‘Oh Neil, I’m so sorry,’ she repeated, humiliated.

‘Listen, Ellie, I’m going to have to go. I need a shave and a shower and a change of clothes back in my own place. I have to be in court in about an hour.’

She sat on the edge of the big double bed, not knowing what to say as he pulled on his shoes and combed his hair.

‘Until Paris,’ he said when she looked up, reaching to touch her face, outlining her jaw and mouth with his fingers. Ellie, surprised by the shared intimacy, was wishing he could stay.

             

Ellie retreated to the shop at midday, still hung over and praying that no customer had been looking for her. Minouche was miaowing to be let in and looking for her saucer of milk as Ellie opened the door and pulled up the shutters. She poured herself a huge glass of water and decided that absolutely nothing would be made today. She could tidy and tweak and write up her books and rough sketch, but not a finger would she put to making a hat or it would be a disaster.

Kim had phoned to say thanks for everything and check that she was OK.

‘I’m fine,’ she lied, ‘just a bit hungover.’

She had found Neil’s mobile phone under her duvet before she’d left the flat and wondered if he’d missed it. She was tempted to send him a message on it. Thank him. Embarrassing as it all was, she somehow hoped that he’d call on her to collect it. She wanted to talk to him, explain about last night and thank him for taking care of her when she was in such a state.

Rory had phoned and she had been deliberately cool and distant with him. She said nothing about seeing him in Lillie’s and in return he said nothing to her, only telling her his meeting had been a great success.

‘Good for you!’ she said, bitterly disappointed by his deception.

She was catnapping behind the counter in the late afternoon, pretending to read a copy of
Marie Claire
, when Fergus came to the door. Judging the state of her pale face, greasy pony-tailed hair and sunken eyes, he disappeared down the street to fetch a bacon sandwich and two bottles of Lucozade.

‘Get that into you,’ he said, watching her eat.

‘Ugh,’ she protested.

‘Any better?’

She nodded. The cure was working.

‘You OK, Ellie?’

She didn’t know what to say.

‘Rory’s a bastard, El! I know you like him but he’s a rat and you’re a princess. It’s not going to work. I don’t mean to sound like your big brother but he’s not good enough for you. He really isn’t. I should have kicked his head in last night.’

Ellie began to laugh. ‘Fergus, you’ve never kicked a soul in your life.’

‘I know, but if I ever start he’ll be top of my list for being such a scumbag to you.’

‘I still really like him,’ she admitted softly. ‘I just kept hoping that he’d be different, that I could change him!’

‘Why do lovers always want to change people?’ puzzled Fergus. ‘It always messes things up.’

‘Someone to be true and faithful, is that too much to ask?’

‘No,’ said Fergus, putting his arms round her and holding her for a while.

‘What about you?’ she quizzed eventually. ‘Did you enjoy last night?’

‘Yeah, it was great. Good buzz at Lillie’s. I met that guy Liam that works with Kim. He’s nice.’

‘Hey,’ she smiled. ‘Are you going to see him?’

‘Maybe. We might go for a drink tomorrow.’ Fergus fussed around, making sure she was OK, and brewed her a quick cup of reviving tea before heading back to his office for a meeting.

Puzzled that there had been no word from Neil, Ellie wondered what should she do about his phone. Obviously he was so busy in court that he hadn’t missed it.

Should she bring it back home with her and see if he collected it later at the flat? But then maybe it would look like she deliberately wanted him to call to see her. Should she simply get it delivered to his office? The couriers were always up and down the street. Checking the address in the phone book, she quickly shoved the mobile phone into an envelope with a scribbled thank-you note and paid for it to be delivered.

She was just locking up at the end of the day and talking to Scottie O’Loughlin when Rory appeared. He was wearing his black T-shirt and jeans and carrying twelve yellow roses. Scottie made a discreet disappearance to where he could watch them from his toy-shop window.

‘These are for you,’ said Rory, kissing her cheek.

‘What for?’

‘To say sorry about last night, for not going out with your friends.’

‘It’s all right, Rory,’ she said softly. ‘I had a good time and Kim enjoyed her birthday. We went to Lillie’s after, with a crowd from Davy’s.’

‘Lillie’s?’

‘Lillie’s Bordello, the nightclub.’

At least he had the good grace to look embarrassed.

‘So you saw me,’ he said evenly, looking her straight in the eye.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, not wanting to cry.

‘Yes, Kim and Fergus and Mary-Claire, we all saw you. Couldn’t help but see you.’

He didn’t even try to deny it or explain. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie. Just give me another chance.’

‘There’s no point,’ she admitted. ‘It’s not going to change things, is it?’

‘You’re a sweet girl,’ Rory said slowly. ‘I’m mad about you. You know that. Last night, I don’t know why but I just screwed it up.’

Ellie could see that in some bizarre way he meant it. All of it! It was just that with Rory what was meant to be easy and relaxed had become complicated and messy. And she didn’t want to do it any more. It was better to end it now before there were any more lies and hurt.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said as she took the yellow roses and his farewell kiss with absolutely no regrets.

Neil Harrington hadn’t listened to a word the judge and his legal colleague had said during a rambling discourse on court procedures. Distracted, he had to ask a junior for his notes at the lunchtime recess before finding time to meet a client and introduce him to his barrister. He grabbed a sandwich and a coffee, then rushed to another meeting. He went to phone Jean, his secretary, and discovered that his mobile phone was missing. Remembering last night, he grinned for a moment. It had most likely fallen out of his pocket and was in the possession of Ellie Matthews, the woman who had scrambled his thoughts all day and left him a physical and mental wreck. Tonight he had the perfect excuse to call to see her after work and collect it.