It's All About Him Read online

Bill Green turned to smile at Dee. 'Hello, Dee. Hey, Sam, are you coming in to see me?' Sam nodded and offered a weak smile. 'Ooh, you do look a bit peaky, let's have a look at you.'

  Dee followed them into Bill's office and waited as Bill did a thorough examination.

  'What do you think?' she asked anxiously after sending Sam back out to the waiting room.

  Bill sat down in his chair and pulled his stethoscope off and shrugged. 'I'd say it's just a virus of some sort.'

  'He definitely didn't eat anything out of the ordinary.'

  'He's four,' the doctor told her, smiling kindly. 'Four-year-olds get bugs all the time.'

  'I suppose,' Dee said with a tired sigh.

  'You need a break,' Bill said.

  'So Sheila was just telling me,' Dee said, smiling. 'I'll hop on the private jet and go down to the Bahamas for a few days.'

  'A couple of early nights and a babysitter would probably do the trick,' he said, ignoring her flippancy. 'Just keep him on very simple plain foods for a couple of days.'

  Dee nodded as she stood up. 'Will do.'

  'And call me if you're worried.'

  'Thanks, Bil,' she said and went back out to reception to pay Sheila.

  'I'll be in touch about that night out,' the receptionist told her.

  'I'll look forward to it,' Dee lied. She loved going out with the girls and it had been a long time since they'd done it, but the thought of the unnecessary expense when money was so tight put her off.

  'Can we go to the playground?' Sam asked Dee as they walked out of the surgery and turned for home.

  'Oh, I don't know, sweetheart, that might not be such a good idea—'

  'Oh, please, Mummy!'

  Happy to see him a bit more enthusiastic, Dee relented. 'Well, okay, then, but not for long. I have a lot of work to do this afternoon.'

  As he played on the swings and the slide in the small playground next to the beach, Dee stared out to sea and went over in her head what she had to make that day. A vegetarian quiche, a steak and kidney pie for the café and a beef stew for the children's lunch tomorrow. To simplify life and her budget, Dee usually used similar recipes for both the crèche and the café. Although for the most part she kept the children's menu simple she had become adept at tailoring many sophisticated dishes to suit their tastes, too.

  The owner of Better Books, Ronan Fitzgerald – Conor's dad – was delighted with Dee's food and his café had turned from a place for morning coffee to a thriving lunchtime venue largely because of her dishes.

  It was Lisa who had first suggested to him that he should buy his cakes from Dee – homemade and local, she'd told him – and a few days later, he'd called and they'd struck a deal. He had steadily increased his order as the months had passed and now Dee was his largest supplier. While Dee was thrilled with this development – she needed every penny she could get – it was also a lot of hard work. Conscious of how little time she was spending with Sam lately, she'd taken to getting up at six and doing some of the cooking before Sam woke.

  Planning was the key, she'd found in this business, and the freezer was her greatest tool. She always cooked greater quantities than she needed and then froze some of the food in small portions so that there was always something healthy for Lisa and the children and for her and Sam, too, on the rare occasion that she took a day off from the kitchen. Though Saturdays and Sundays were largely her own, she usually did some baking while Sam 'helped'.

  Dee's thoughts returned to the bill she'd received that morning and she sighed wearily. Every time she seemed to get her head above water, something seemed to happen and it usually involved money or, rather, the lack of it. The house absorbed most of her income, but Sam's medication and creams and his frequent visits to the doctor added up, too. As she watched him climb up the slide she also realized that he would need a new pair of shoes before long; that would be another forty euros or so which she couldn't afford. Glancing at her watch, she called to her son. It was time to get back to the kitchen and earn it.

  Lisa was in the dining room on her hands and knees cleaning up after lunch when they got back. 'So, is everything all right?' she asked Dee.

  'Yes, it's just a bug.'

  'Poor little man.' Lisa smiled affectionately at her godson. 'Why don't you go and play with Tom and I'll bring you some milk and crackers?'

  'Thanks,' he said with a grin and skipped off to join his best friend.

  Lisa got to her feet and she and Dee went back out to the kitchen.

  'You look like you could do with a cuppa,' she said.

  Dee yawned. 'I think I'm going to need a gallon of tea if I'm to keep going today.'

  'Why don't you lie down for an hour? You'll be a lot more productive if you've had a rest.'

  Dee rubbed her eyes. 'But I haven't made anything for lunch yet—'

  'There's a plate of ham in the fridge and that lovely soda bread from yesterday, that's more than enough.'

  'But—'

  'Dee, just go.'

  Dee saw the determined look in her friend's eye and gratefully capitulated.

  She gave Lisa a quick hug and made for the stairs. 'Call me if you need me.'

  'We'll cope.'

  Dee collapsed on to her large bed and pulled the duvet up around her. Closing her eyes she tried not to think of all the jobs she should be doing. Lisa was right; she'd get a lot more done if she had a catnap, just a little one, an hour at the most . . .

  Chapter 2

  Ronan and Julia Fitzgerald worked in companionable silence as they got ready for opening at ten. It was a beautiful spring morning and the sunshine lit up the pretty café with its yellow curtains, faded floral cushions and pine floors. The eight tables were draped in blue and white check oilskin cloths and four tall stools stood at the bar for those who came in for a quick cuppa and a gossip. Ronan glanced at his watch. 'You're going to be late, love.'

  'I am,' she agreed, and hurried to get her bag, cardigan and keys from the counter. 'Right, is there anything else you need me to do?'

  'No, you go. Zoe will be here in a minute.'

  Julia looked at him from under raised eyebrows. 'The day that girl's on time I'll eat my hat. Now, I'll be going to the shops later, do you need anything?'

  'No, love.'

  'And if you want to go home for lunch there's some salad—'

  'I'll have something here,' he said hurriedly.

  'And don't be late home this evening,' she warned.

  'Of course I won't,' he said affronted.

  'Okay, then, see you tonight.'

  'Glasses.' Ronan held up her spectacles and she hurried back to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

  'Thank you, darling.'

  Ronan chuckled as she hurried off. Julia ran herself ragged between helping out at the church, working at the nursing home and looking after him, but if it made her happy then that was fine by him. He was grateful that she was such a busy woman. If they worked together too much they drove each other mad. Ronan was too relaxed and easygoing as far as Julia was concerned and she too critical and demanding in his view. Anyway, a bit of space was always a good thing for a marriage, Ronan thought. It was also quite pleasant working alongside a pretty young thing like Zoe. He liked to be surrounded by young people. They didn't moan or whinge the way his age group did, or if they did, it was in a light-hearted sort of way. Ronan had no doubt that Zoe's pretty smile and sunny disposition was very popular with his customers and not just the male ones.

  'Hiya, boss.'

  He looked up to see the young lady in question slipping in the back door and tossing her backpack behind the bar. 'Morning, Zoe, how are you today?'

  'Don't ask.' She pulled a face. 'I was out last night.'

  'Ah, feeling a little delicate?'

  'Let's say I'd prefer if you didn't put on your big-band CD today.'

  Ronan chuckled as he went behind the bar and opened the fridge. 'I have the perfect cure for you,' he said, extracting tomato juice, a lemon and an egg.

/>   Zoe looked on suspiciously. 'Are you trying to kill or cure me?'

  'You've a full day's work ahead of you; of course I don't want to kill you. So what was the occasion?'

  Zoe pulled herself on to a high stool and dropped her head on to the counter. 'It was Tracey's birthday so we decided to have a few drinks and then we went on to a club in town and bumped into a few mates and, well, it's all a bit of a blur after that.'

  'How did you get home?' Ronan asked, trying not to sound too much like her father.

  'Someone poured us into a cab,' she assured him, a smile playing around her lips. 'Don't worry, boss, I didn't take any lifts from strangers.'

  'Glad to here it. Now, try this.' He banged the foaming mixture down in front of her making her wince.

  'I'm not sure I can.'

  'Hold your nose and down it in one. Trust me, you'll feel better.'

  Zoe sighed. 'That wouldn't be hard.' She raised the glass and lowered half of it before coming up for air, her face twisted in disgust. 'That is bloody awful!'

  'It will be worth it,' he promised, glancing at the clock. 'Now, are you ready to open up or do you need more time?'

  'No, no.' Zoe stood up and waved him away. 'I'll be fine, I just hope it's a quiet morning.'

  'Thanks a lot,' he said dryly, heading into the shop.

  Zoe grinned. 'Ah, sure it's not like you need the money, boss!'

  'That's right,' he called over his shoulder, 'I'm just here for the fun.' He smiled to himself as he went to unlock the shop door of Better Books. It was true he didn't need the money. When he took early retirement from the civil service he had enough put aside to live a very comfortable life indeed but he wasn't the sort of man to sit back and watch the world go by.

  Returning to live in his home town and taking over the local bookshop was exactly the challenge he'd needed. He loved working here and enjoyed the eclectic mix of people who came through his door. It attracted all sorts from the young girl looking for a juicy romance, to the academic in search of a book of poetry, to the art collector attracted by the prints and landscapes that graced the window and walls.

  The tea shop had been Julia's idea as there was such a large, open space at the back of the shop and now the café brought in more money than the bookshop with a steady flow of customers throughout the day and a positive frenzy some lunchtimes. All in all, it was a thriving business and a valuable asset but Ronan wouldn't dream of selling it. He was only sixty-one and in good health so hopefully it would be a long time before he would have to consider that.

  Ideally he'd love to pass it on to his son but Conor had no interest in taking on the business. He was a farmer and Ronan had never seen a man who enjoyed his job more. Though there had been no farmers in the family and Conor had largely grown up on a housing estate near Dublin, the outdoor life seemed to be in his blood. Conor reminded Ronan a lot of his own father – a solid, bear of a man with a quiet voice and a rather dry sense of humour.

  Today was Conor's thirty-second birthday and Ronan was half hoping it would be marked with an engagement. For as well as being a wonderful cook, Dee Hewson was also his son's girlfriend. Ronan had to applaud his taste. Quite apart from being a very pretty girl with serious brown eyes and a fine figure, Dee was both kind and clever. Ronan had no idea how she managed to run that house, a business and raise a child and he admired her hugely.

  Julia, however, didn't share his views. While she acknowledged that Dee was a great cook and a loving mother it was clear that she was suspicious of Dee's single-parent status. It was quite common these days, Ronan pointed out, and they had no idea of the history concerning Sam's father, but Julia dismissed his arguments. 'She's hiding something,' she said. 'I bet he's a married man. She wouldn't be the first to get pregnant in an attempt to get a man to leave his wife.' The fact that all of this conjecture had no basis in reality made no difference to Julia and so Ronan gave up arguing the point. He did, however, make it very clear to his wife that she'd better not meddle in their son's love-life. Ronan had never seen Conor as comfortable with a woman before and he was wonderful with the little lad.

  The bell on the door jangled noisily and Ronan turned to greet his first customer of the day. His smile broadened when Vi Valentine staggered in, weighed down with canvases. 'Vi, I wasn't expecting you! I thought you were in Youghal doing seascapes.'

  'It rained and you know how I hate the bloody rain. Still, I got some nice harbour scenes before the weather broke.'

  Ronan relieved her of her load. 'Let's take them through to the back and I'll get you a cuppa.'

  Vi followed him into the café and waved at Zoe. 'Hello, darling, how are you?'

  'Don't talk too loudly,' Ronan warned, 'Zoe's a little sensitive this morning.'

  Vi laughed. 'Good for you, girl. Oh, to be young again.'

  'I'd say you were a wild woman.' Zoe grinned.

  Vi's green eyes twinkled. 'I've had my moments.'

  'Vi, these are wonderful,' Ronan marvelled as he stood the four canvases against the wall and studied them.

  'I am quite pleased with them,' Vi said modestly. 'There's something wonderful about the light down there at this time of year; quite, quite beautiful.'

  'Is that where you come from, Vi?' Zoe asked curiously.

  'Lord, no, I was born and raised in Banford.'

  'But I thought you only moved here a couple of years ago.'

  'Moved back here,' Vi corrected.

  'There must be something about this place,' Zoe marvelled.

  With her café-au-lait skin, blonde afro hair and hazel eyes, Zoe was a perfect mix of her Irish mother and Ethiopian father and it was a shock to most people when they heard her strong Dublin accent. When her family moved to Banford – Zoe's dad had accepted a position as registrar in the local private clinic – she had been horrified at the thought of moving out of the city and had said she'd find herself a flat in Dublin instead.

  As it turned out, though, Banford had worked its magic on her and she hardly went near Dublin these days. Her original plans to go to Dublin City University to study marketing had been scrapped and instead she came to work for Ronan and put her studies on hold.

  She looked wistfully at the paintings. 'I wish I could paint.'

  Ronan nodded at the walls of the café.

  'You can have a go in here if you like; it could do with a fresh coat.'

  'Ha ha.' Zoe made a face at her boss. 'Coffee,Vi?'

  'Yes, please, and a scone would be nice, too,' she added.

  'Sorry, Dee hasn't been in yet.' Zoe looked worriedly at the clock.

  'I'll give her a call,' Ronan said and left them to chat.

  'Sorry, Ronan,' Dee answered her phone, breathless, 'just loading up. I'll be with you in five.'

  'Okay, love, I was afraid that Sam might be sick again.'

  'No, he's as right as rain this week.'

  'That's good. I'll see you soon.' He hung up and went back to join the two women in the café. 'She's on her way. So Vi,' he said, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite the artist, 'what price are you putting on these?'

  'One hundred?' Vi suggested, taking a sip of her coffee.

  'Too low,' Ronan retorted. 'Way too low.'

  'Absolutely,' Zoe agreed as she placed a coffee in front of her boss. 'You could easily get twice that.'

  'You think?' Vi said doubtfully.

  'If the paintings are displayed properly, I'm sure they'll sell in no time.' Ronan tugged on his white beard as he pondered how he could rearrange his stock to showcase Vi's work to full advantage.

  'So why did you leave Banford?' Zoe asked Vi when Ronan had to go through to the shop to tend to a customer.

  'Itchy feet,' Vi said, smiling.

  'And where did you go?'

  'Here and there.'

  'You're very mysterious,' Zoe said with a grin.

  'I don't mean to be, there just isn't much to say. I've had quite a boring life.'

  'Were you always an artist?'

  '
Lord, no,' Vi laughed. 'I only started painting a few years ago.'

  'And yet you're so good!' Zoe shook her head.

  'Well, thank you!'

  'Can you give me a hand?' Dee said, staggering in the door of the bookshop, her face hidden behind a pile of plastic food containers.

  Ronan rushed to her aid and brought the food through to the café.

  'Hi, Zoe.' Dee followed him through.

  'Hey, Dee.'

  Ronan poured Dee a cup of tea and she took it over to Vi's table.

  'I didn't think you were due back for another week,' Dee said.

  'Hello, darling! Rain, I'm afraid,' Vi replied.

  'Oh, hard luck.'

  'She didn't do too badly.' Ronan gestured at the paintings leaning against the wall.

  'Oh, Vi,' Dee breathed, 'they're fantastic.'

  'Well, thank you,' Vi said with a regal nod.

  'I think I might buy one,' Ronan announced. 'That stormy scene would look very nice over our fireplace.'

  Vi and Dee exchanged a look. 'It'll never happen if she has anything to do with it,' Vi muttered when Ronan had wandered off again.

  'I'm sure it will,' Dee said not altogether convincingly.

  Vi and Julia were complete opposites who had never got on. Julia sneered at Vi's hippy clothes and made comments about mutton and lamb and Vi called Julia a do-gooder who stuck her nose in where it wasn't wanted.

  'I can't believe she's Conor's mother,' she would say to Dee. 'He obviously inherited all of Ronan's genes.'

  Privately Dee agreed, but she wouldn't dream of saying so; it would be very disloyal to Conor. She drained her cup and stood up.

  'Going already?' Vi looked disappointed.

  'Sorry, I must get back to work.'

  'Will we see you tonight?' Ronan asked, walking with her to the door.

  'Sure,' Dee said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. 'See you then.'

  'Birthday tea?' Lisa giggled. 'I haven't been to one of them since I was twelve.'

  'Shut up and pass me the garlic.' Dee continued to chop onions.

  Lisa rummaged in the vegetable rack behind her. 'I'd have thought you'd be baking a cake, not making chilli.'

  'I'll leave that to Julia.'

  'And what does Conor think of this? I mean he's thirty-two, for God's sake.'