Page 46 of The Gin Sisters' Promise

‘I don’t know, I had thought…’ What had she thought? She had no idea.

‘Pushing it through quickly wouldn’t stop you getting back together. You wouldn’t be the first couple to reunite and marry again, but it would be on your terms.’ Muriel shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I’ve just said that, but it’s an unusual case. The terms of your father’s will really throw normal practice out the window just a little. Usually, I’d be advising you to take your time, regardless of my personal feelings, but in this case…’ She shook her head again and pushed her glasses high up on her nose. ‘At the end of the day, regardless of what I think, it has to be your decision.’

‘No, no, I think you’re right. As much as I didn’t want to face up to it, my marriage is over. Even if we did get back together, what’s to stop him leaving me again once my father’s will is finalised? I don’t think I could bear the idea of him living the high life with Amanda and their child on the back of generations of Delahaye hard work.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s Myles who should be apologising.’ Iris took a deep breath. ‘He’s the one who’s created this terrible mess. He’s the one who’s going to be a father in a few months’ time.’ Oh God, was she going to cry again? She swallowed hard to try and stop the tears from falling again.

‘That’s in our favour. Divorce cases are hard to predict in terms of how long it takes to actually get to the finishing line, but in this case, with a baby on the way and if it’s easy enough to work out the financials, we might wrap this up before the will goes into probate. I’m not sure how long that takes in Ireland, but I’m sure we can drag things out at that end.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Iris said, thinking that all she would have to do was dig her heels in and declare to her sisters that she had no interest in selling her share – that would slow things down nicely. ‘And in the meantime, as I said, Myles doesn’t actually know that my father has died. Well, that is, I haven’t told him, so…’

‘Is he likely to find out?’

‘I can’t imagine so. He’s so loved up with his floozy at the moment, I doubt he’s given me a second thought, apart from maybe getting his hands on our shared assets as they stand.’

‘And you still live in the primary residence?’

‘I’ve rented it out while I’m living in Ireland for the next couple of months. It’s paying the mortgage and giving me a little pin money as well.’

‘Better if all the rent just goes into the mortgage account for now; we don’t want to muddy the waters with money going anywhere but where it should. It would be another issue to drag things out longer.’ Muriel was making ticking marks against the neat notes she’d just taken. It seemed to take an age as she read through each note aloud to check she had everything right. ‘I’ll need a current address for Myles, and I’ll let you know how we’re going as I move things along.’

They shook hands and rather than feeling that she was losing something that had been a part of her life for so long, Iris almost felt relieved as she stepped out onto the busy street. It was as if in facing up to the truth of what her marriage was, she had opened the door to some unfamiliar freedom and far from being daunting, it almost felt liberating in the London afternoon sunshine.

*

Iris had rung Georgie after her mysterious appointment had ended. She said she was at a loose end for lunch and would Georgie like to meet up? Georgie had been surprised, but then she was out of sorts about this meeting with Paul. Anything to stop her fretting would be good – even teaming up with Iris.

They went for a sandwich at the deli on the corner near Sandstone and Mellon. Georgie had been tempted to suggest a drink, but she didn’t want to raise Iris’s suspicions that her meeting with her former employers was anything she was nervous about. So instead, she made do with a double espresso and hoped it would firm up her negotiating skills. She did want this, after all, didn’t she?

It was a strange sensation being back here, looking up towards the seventh floor that she’d spent such a big part of her life working in. She almost felt as if she was somehow outside herself, looking in at a snapshot of time that wasn’t quite real. She was out of kilter with everything around her, so she almost felt as if she might lose her balance just standing still. People raced past in their expensive trainers and even more expensive suits, talking on phones to people who could make or break them or tuned into earbuds to help them forget about their stress for five more minutes. She wasn’t part of them today. She was a voyeur, looking on from that elevated position of having so recently been racing on that treadmill and now having a free pass. She’d come to check her ticket and it turned her stomach to think of getting back in that race.

That was it. The whole place, being here, made her feel ill, as if some part of her DNA was pulling back from it. Perhaps it would be different when she was back here? She almost had to push herself through the doors of the building, aware of Iris next to her like an excited child being brought to her parents’ family-at-work day.

Georgie nodded at the security man, who checked his list.

‘Go on up, Miss Delahaye.’ He’d looked pointedly at Iris, who was obviously not on his list, but Georgie pulled her along with her towards the lift before he had a chance to offer her an uncomfortable seat in the foyer. For the first time in years, Georgie wanted Iris by her side. The fact that she was actually here, with her, well, she wasn’t sure she had the capacity to examine what that meant exactly. Probably, the therapist would have a field day with this one! Sylvia would probably call it a sign. Okay, in this moment, sheneededIris by her side. Still, there was no escaping the feeling that it galvanised her as she walked across the echoing foyer.

They stood waiting for the lift for what felt to Georgie like the longest, most uncomfortable minute. Suddenly, she felt invisible in a place where she’d so recently been cream of the crop. Of course, Iris was completely unaware of this. Her sister stood there, gawping at the architecture and marvelling at the brash capitalist opulence of the place. ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe you work here; really, it’s so much more than I’d pictured!’ Iris tugged at her sleeve and giggled. When the lift finally arrived, the doors opened to reveal a harried woman in her late twenties, head buried in her phone, fingers tapping furiously. It was like looking in a mirror. Georgie had so recently been that woman, so busy and important she could barely be out of contact to rush to the loo if she was bursting to go! Georgie too had been every bit as beset and self-absorbed. The younger woman brushed past them, but in the process somehow lost her balance, having not noticed either of the Delahaye girls waiting for the lift.

‘For heaven’s sake,’ she snapped at them as the phone slipped from her hands. Iris automatically bent to reach it, but the woman got there first.

‘Sorry,’ Iris said, although clearly the flying phone had nothing to do with either of them.

‘Just watch where you’re going next time,’ the woman barked before stalking off as if personally affronted by their very existence.Oh, God, Georgie thought,I really was that woman.The butterflies in her stomach suddenly grew heavier, as if they’d mutated back to giant caterpillars, wriggling inside her and setting free an undeniable truth: Sandstone and Mellon had not been a good place for her. It had made her self-absorbed, rude and ultimately miserable.

Iris dragged her into the lift just as the doors were about to close and she wondered if she could be a different person here this time round and still do her job as efficiently as she had in the past.

‘Well, she was nice.’ Iris made a face, but Georgie knew her sister wanted to laugh out loud at the rudeness.

As the elevator brought them whirring upwards, Georgie felt sick to the very pit of her. The incident with the woman at the elevator felt like an epiphany. She hadn’t time to process it now; she was due to meet with Paul in a few minutes. She had to stay calm and focused, but she was failing at both miserably. Sweat was seeping through the cotton blouse she’d put on, hoping to strike a balance between relaxed and professional. They arrived too soon to dampen down her panic; the lift opening to reveal the smart reception desk manned by yet another striking blonde creature. The Barbie girls never lasted very long. Georgie had stopped bothering to remember their names.

‘Hello, Miss Delahaye.’ The girl flashed a perfect set of what had to be expensively whitened teeth at them when they approached the desk.

‘Hi,’ Georgie managed. It was probably the longest greeting she’d ever delivered to a receptionist in years and it wasn’t lost on her that it only marked out what a total bitch she’d been. It added to her discomfort now and she read the girls name tag. ‘Rachel,’ she managed. ‘We’re probably a bit early. I might just pop into the…’ She nodded towards the bathrooms along the corridor and yanked Iris along behind her.

She locked herself into the cubicle. She couldn’t be sick here; she just couldn’t. She sat on the toilet with her head between her knees, trying to breathe down the panic that threatened to overtake her. This was ridiculous; of course she wanted to come back here. She needed to hammer out a deal that would make Paul Mellon’s eyes water and she wanted to swan in here every day and feel that she’d made it – on her own terms, down to her own talent. She deserved it. Damn it. This was just self-sabotage, imposter syndrome. What she’d worked so hard for was just within her grasp; surely she could muster the courage to go out there and claim it.

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