My worst nightmare would be to lose Katie. I don’t know what I would do. She may watch MTV all day, blare music from her room, ruin my days off by making me go into school to fight with Ms. Big Nose Smelly Breath Casey, leave glitter all over the couches and carpets, worry me to death when she’s one minute late for her nine o’clock curfew, but she’s the most important thing to me in my life. She comes first all of the time. I’m so glad Alex missed the debs and I’m so glad that Brian the Whine was such a boring person. The men in my life may have let me down but the little girl in my life makes up for it every single day.
Dear Ms. Rosie Dunne,
I was hoping you would be free on Monday the 16th at 9 a.m. to meet with me at the school. Toby Flynn’s parents will also be in attendance. It is regarding the recent results of the summer maths exam. It appears that Katie and Toby have the same answers for all the questions. What jumped out at me was the fact that the majority of these answers are wrong. I have discussed this with Katie and Toby and they insist it was coincidental.
Cheating, as you well know, is considered to be a very serious offense at St. Patrick’s primary school. I seem to have a case of déjá vu, Rosie . . . Please ring to confirm your presence.
Ms. Casey
CHAPTER 23
FROM: Rosie
TO: Alex
SUBJECT: Grown-ups
What are the two of us like? I was going to say who knew we’d be going through so much “grown-up stuff” but I don’t consider you going through a divorce and me trying to pick up the pieces of my marriage grown-up. I think we both had it pretty much sussed when we were playing cops and robbers in the back garden. It’s all been downhill from there!
The weather has been beautiful over here for the past few weeks. I love June in Dublin. The gray buildings seem less gray, the unhappy faces seem brighter. It is so hot here at work though. The entire front of the hotel building is built from glass and it feels like we’re working in a greenhouse on days like today. It’s such a contrast to our winter months when the sound of the fat raindrops hitting off the glass echoes around the quiet foyer. It’s a pretty sound but sometimes the hailstones are so loud and forceful, threatening to smash through the glass. Right now I’m staring up at a rich blue sky dotted with white candy-floss grazing sheep. It is beautiful.
Convertible sports cars have their tops down and music is blaring, businessmen have been casually strolling down the street past the hotel, with their jackets slung over their shoulders and their shirtsleeves rolled up, reluctant to get back to the office. The college students have all seemingly decided to call off their plans to attend lectures to flake out in large circles in the park. The ducks are gathering by the edge of the pond, glad they won’t have to search for their own food today. Mounds of soggy uneaten bread float on the surface of the water waiting to be pecked at.
A flirting couple chase each other around the large water fountain catching its cool spray on their bare arms and legs in order to cool their body temperatures. Couples in love stretch out together on the grass and gaze longingly into each other’s eyes. Children avail of the playground while their parents relax in the sun keeping one eye shut and one eye lazily focused on their excited offspring who squeal with delight.
Shop owners stand at the entrance doors to their empty shops watching the world go by. Office workers gaze dreamily out of the window from the desks high up in their clammy stuffy offices enviously watching the city throb with excitement.
The sound of laughter is in the air, people are full of smiles, there’s a bounce in their step. The veranda of the hotel is busy with people taking drinks out in the sun. Long Island iced teas, gin and tonics, tangy orange with crushed ice, lime green concoctions, fruity cocktails, and bowls of ice cream. Layers of clothes are being discarded and hung on the backs of chairs.
Cleaning ladies hum softly to themselves and smile while polishing the brass, feeling the sun’s rays streaming down on their faces. Days like this don’t come often and you can tell everyone wishes they did.
And I sit here and think of you. I send you my love.
FROM: Alex
TO: Rosie
SUBJECT: Happy!
You sounded happy! I’ve just returned from a weekend with Josh. He’s a feisty little thing now Rosie, he’s running around trying to grab anything and everything from left, right, and center. I was almost afraid to blink in case the room came crashing down around me. But he’s in great form and I feel so happy and rejuvenated after the weekend. Seeing him always lights me up, a switch is flicked somewhere in my body. I could watch him forever. Watch how he learns, how he teaches himself, how he eventually finds a way to do things without help from anyone. Josh takes chances; he’s braver than I am. He always takes that extra step when he nos he shouldn’t. He does it anyway and he learns. I think we adults have a lot to learn from that. Perhaps to not be so afraid and oversensible about reaching for goals.
So I am taking Josh’s advice. A surgeon whose work I greatly admire is giving a talk during the week. It’s a few days of seminars about a new heart procedure he has developed. I’m going to try and meet him, along with the other thousand or so wannabe heart surgeons who will be there. Rumor has it he’s from Ireland and has moved over here to develop his studies further.
Cross your fingers and pray for a miracle.
FROM: Rosie
TO: Alex
SUBJECT: Mysterious meeting
I have a mysterious meeting with Bill, my boss, next week. I have no idea what it’s about, but I’m quite nervous about it. He flew over yesterday in a not so good mood and has had a series of secret meetings all day. Lots of suspicious-looking people have been arriving to talk to him on the hour every hour dressed in dark suits. They could, of course, be giving him hourly updates of the news but somehow I doubt that very much. I have an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
What makes it even worse is the fact that his brother Bob is flying over tomorrow morning. They only ever get together to do the hiring and firing. I think that’s all Bob does, really. His brother does all the work on their hotels around the world and he just spends his share of the money on houses, cars, holidays, and women, so I hear. Why is it that people always put women in the same category as cars and holidays as though we’re prizes on a game show?
Jesus I hope they don’t fire me. I don’t know what I would do. I think I would sleep with him to keep this job. That’s how much I love it. Or how scared I am about having to search for another one. Or how desperate I am to sleep with a man other than Greg for a change. I love him but bless him; he’s a sucker for routine.
Better go and look like I’m really busy so that they will have absolutely no grounds to fire me. Cross your fingers for me, and I’ll cross mine for you.
FROM: Alex
TO: Rosie
SUBJECT: Re: Mysterious meeting
Don’t worry, it will all be fine! They have no reason to fire you! (Have they?) You have done nothing wrong since the day you started working there. In fact you’ve hardly even called in sick! Everything will be fine. Just about to leave the apartment now to go to seminar. Good luck to the both of us!
FROM: Rosie
TO: Alex
SUBJECT: Re: Mysterious meeting
You’re right. They can’t fire me. I’m just being stupid. I am a great employee. They have no reason to. At least no reasons that they know of. I mean, they could never find out about the time I brought Ruby up to show her the penthouse suite. And even if they do know that, there’s no way that they could know that we ordered room service and stayed the night.
Could they?
Maybe it was the missing bathrobes that they noticed. But they were so cozy and I had to take one home . . .
Or maybe it was the empty minibar. But I distinctly remember asking Peter to restock the fridge and he owed me one after I gave his parents a Valentine’s Day discount in the middle of May. So it can’t be that . . . oh god this is killing me. I really don?
??t want to work for Randy Andy again and I don’t think I have energy to go sending CV’s out again. And the stress of another job interview.
They only want to meet with me. But Bill didn’t smile at me when he said it and his eyes weren’t as twinkly as usual. Oh no what does that mean?!
FROM: Rosie
TO: Alex
SUBJECT: Fired!
Oh my god, the new skinny girl has a meeting too next week. She’s the worst worker ever. She’s called in sick more times than she’s been in. Probably because she never eats. Lunch breaks are wasted on her. She just stares across the table at your plate with a horrible face on her as though food is the devil and she sips on a bottle of water. Then halfway through her bottle she gets full, tightens the lid, and leaves it behind.
I better start job-hunting I think.
FROM: Alex
TO: Rosie
SUBJECT: Chill out!
For Christ sake Rosie Dunne, I love you with all my heart but you need to chill out!
You have an instant message from: RUBY
Ruby: Oooh so he loves you with all his heart does he?
Rosie: Oh stop reading my e-mails Ruby.
Ruby: Well, get a less obvious password, “Buttercup.” You two are being all flirty with each other lately.
Rosie: No we haven’t! How on earth have we been flirty??!
Ruby: You know yourself.
Rosie: Oh please I thought you were going to make a good point for once in your life.
Ruby: I have one and you know it.
Rosie: We’re just getting along like we used to do; that’s all. Alex has perked himself up, I think he’s happy again.
Ruby: Because he’s in lurve . . .
Rosie: He is not in love. Well not with me anyway.
Ruby: Oh sorry I was just misguided by the fact that he said in his e-mail that he “loved you with all his heart.”
Rosie: As a friend loves a friend Ruby.
Ruby: You’re my friend and I do not love you with all my heart. Hell I hardly love Teddy with all my heart.
Rosie: OK then Alex and I are madly in love and we’re going to run away and have a passionate love affair.
Ruby: You see? It doesn’t hurt to admit it does it?
Rosie: Whatever. How’s your Gary?
Ruby: Overweight.
Rosie: Jesus do you see anything else other than weight when you look at him?
Ruby: Yes, I see memories of hours of agonizing labor. He still grunts at me and makes signals. Although I heard him on the telephone to his girlfriend Gemma. He uses words, you know?
Rosie: That’s amazing Ruby.
Ruby: Well a mother is allowed to be proud.
Rosie: Hold on Ruby.
Rosie: Oh my god, celery stick just got back from meeting with Bill and Bob and she’s crying her eyes out. They just fired her. I’m next. Shit. I better go. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Rosie has logged off
CHAPTER 24
Kevin,
Hi son. I know I’m not one to write letters, but I’m not sure if you gave your mother and me the correct phone number of the staff barracks. Whenever I call it just keeps on ringing and ringing and that’s at all hours of the day and night. You either gave us the wrong number purposely, there’s something wrong with your phone, or everybody is working so hard they’re not there to answer my calls. I wouldn’t like the idea of having to share a phone with thirty staff members. Couldn’t you get one of those mobile phones? Then maybe your family could get in touch with you every once in a while.
I hope you’re not doing anything daft down there. Rosie really stuck her neck out to get you that job in the kitchen. Don’t mess it up like all those other ones you had. This is a good opportunity for you now to get a good start in your life. Your old man is sixty now, I won’t be around forever for you to rely on, you know!
It’s a shame you couldn’t make it home for my retirement party. The company invited the entire family, they really treated us well for the night, treated me well for over thirty-five years in fact. Stephanie, Pierre, and Jean-Louis made it over from France. Rosie, Greg, and young Katie were there too. It was a good night. I’m not picking on you, son, just wished you had been there too that’s all. It was an emotional night all the same. If you had been there you would have seen your old man cry.
It’s funny how life goes. I spent forty years working for them, remember my first day like it was yesterday. I was just fresh out of school, all eager to please. Wanted to start making money so that I could propose to your mother and buy us a house. In my first week of work we held a party in the office for one of the old guys retiring. I didn’t give much notice to him. People were making speeches, giving him gifts, talking about old times. But all I cared about was the fact that they were making me stay late at work, unpaid, when all I wanted to do was get out of there to propose to your mother. The old guy had been there all his working life, he had tears in his eyes, was really upset about leaving, took him a lifetime to make the speech, thought he would never shut up so I could leave. I had the engagement ring in my pocket. Kept sticking my hand in my trousers to make sure the velvet box was still there. I couldn’t wait for that guy to finish talking.
Billy Rogers was his name.
He wanted to take me aside and explain a few things to me about the company before he left. Seeing as I was a new boy. I didn’t listen to a word he had to say. He talked and talked like he never had any intentions of leaving the damn office. I rushed him. The company wasn’t that important to me then.
He kept on coming back to visit us in the office every week. Would hang around our desks annoying all the new guys, some of the old guys too, giving advice and checking up on things that were no longer his business. We just wanted to do our jobs. He lived and breathed for that place. We all told him to find himself a hobby. Keep himself busy. Thought we were helping him. Only suggested it out of the goodness of our hearts, that and the fact he was really starting to get up his pals’ noses. He died a few weeks later. Had a heart attack on the golf course. He was taking our advice and having his first lesson.
I hadn’t thought about Billy Rogers for almost thirty years. Had completely forgotten about him, to be honest. But that night and since I haven’t been able to get the thought of Billy Rogers out of my head. Looking around with tears in my eyes, listening to speeches, accepting gifts, catching the new guys sneakily glimpse at their watches wondering when they could slip away to get home to their girlfriends or new wives or children or whomever . . . I couldn’t help but think about all the guys who came through those office doors. Thought about the guys who started off on the same day as me; Colin Quinn and Tom McGuire, guys who never made it to retirement like me. I suppose that’s what life’s about. People come and go.
So there are no more early mornings for me. I caught up on a whole load of sleep I never even thought I needed. The garden is spotless, everything in the house that was once broken is now fixed. I’ve played golf three times this week, visited Rosie twice, took Katie and Toby out for the day, and I still feel like hopping into my car, speeding down to the office, and teaching the rookies a thing or two about how to do business. But they won’t care; they want and need to learn it for themselves.
So I thought I would join the Dunne women in writing. It seems that’s all they do. Keeps the phone bills down, I suppose. Let me know how things are going for you, son.
Did you hear about our Rosie’s job?
Love, Dad
FROM: Kevin
TO: Stephanie
SUBJECT: Dad
How are things? I just got a letter from Dad today. Dad writing a letter is weird in itself but what he was writing was even more bizarre. Is he OK? He was talking about some guy called Billy Rogers who died over thirty years ago. Make sure he’s not losing it. Anyway, it was good to hear from him but he sounded like another man altogether. Not necessarily a bad thing. Sorry I wasn’t there for his retirement do. Should have made more of an effort to be t
here.
Tell Pierre and Jean-Louis I was asking for them. Tell Pierre I’ll beat his culinary skills hands down next time I see him! Here’s a little pair of runners (for Jean-Louis obviously) that I saw in the sports shop. He’ll be the trendiest little seven-month-old in France. Dad mentioned something about Rosie’s job? What has she done now?
FROM: Stephanie
TO: Mum
SUBJECT: Kevin and Dad
Something must be in the water over there in Ireland because I just received an e-mail from your son, my little brother Kevin—yes Kevin, the guy who never keeps in touch with family unless he needs to borrow money. He was writing to tell me that Dad had written to him and he was worried! Did you even know that dad could lick a stamp?
Anyway, Kevin must be having some sort of quarterly life crisis or he’s just going soft because he sent a present for Jean-Louis, the most adorable little booties! But don’t tell Kevin that he threw up on them. It was a nice gesture anyway. The buying of the boots, not the vomiting over them.
Kevin also mentioned that Dad was talking about Billy Rogers again. He told me about him too. Is he OK? I’m assuming he is just feeling very contemplative now that he has entered a new era in his life. Now at least he has time to think. The both of you have worked so hard all your lives. Now Kevin your baby is gone, Rosie and Katie are gone, I’m gone, and the house is finally all yours. I suppose I can understand how it’s difficult for Dad to get his head around it. You were both used to a house full of screaming kids and bickering teenagers. When we finally grew up, along came a crying baby and you were so good to help Rosie out. I know it was hard for you financially too.