Harriet's contacts had brought her samples. Ella examined yellow negligees with rhinestones, scarlet thongs and black panties with pink lace rosebuds on them. Had Ireland changed a great deal? Or did everyone else at home wear underwear like this and Ella was the only one left out?
"You can buy anything you need at cost," Harriet said to her kindly.
"Thanks, Harriet. I don't have much of a sex life going at the moment. I think I'll pass, if you don't mind."
"Fine-looking girl like you, you do surprise me," Harriet said.
Some of the contacts seemed to suggest that owning a proper wardrobe of what was on display was the surefire way of restoring a good sex life fairly speedily.
Ella had eaten nothing and was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. "Well, if I thought they'd help sell my film idea to Derry King," she said, pretending to consider one of the little corsets.
"Not the Derry King!" said one of the contacts.
"You've heard of him?"
"There was a big piece about him in the paper today .. . but what was in it?"
None of them could remember.
I hope he hasn't gone bankrupt," Ella said. That would be all they'd need. But it appeared that it had something to do with rescuing a dog shelter. Derry King had not only given the place the funds it needed, but he had marched with the protesters personally and raised their profile considerably. "A dog lover, I see," Ella noted. It hadn't mentioned that in any of the files. "Then I'll buy that jewelled dog collar for him," she said.
"It's a bit flash, Ella. I mean, it's only five dollars. It's for guys to give their girls who have silly bow-wows." Harriet didn't want to steer her wrong.
"No, what's more, I'll buy two. I know a dog called Hooves back in Dublin who'd absolutely love it."
She had three more cocktails, went back to her own hotel, and fell into sleep without even listening to her voice-mail on the telephone. This was meant to be her day off. Her whole day to relax and get ready for tomorrow to meet the great Derry King, investor and apparently a dog lover. And now she had the most unmerciful hangover. Slowly she got herself into the day. The woman at the beauty salon suggested a facial. It was very expensive, but what the hell? She would pay Firefly Films back one day. That's what she was going to spend the rest of her life doing anyway, it seemed. Paying people back. "Sorry, Nick, I was out last night. I forgot to check my messages," she said when she found the winking light and called him back.
"Great, Ella. You're really on top of things over there," he said.
"No, I'm fine. I have such hair and such skin you just wouldn't believe it."
"Terrific."
"What were you on about anyway?"
He told her briefly about it all, how they were all a little bit worried in case Nuala might just have got any of it right.
"Not very likely, based on previous performance." She was brisk.
"Don't be flip, Ella. We're your friends, okay?"
"Sure, sorry, it's just that I'm a bit frail. Nuala's half-wit take on everything doesn't seem real from here."
"Why are you frail?"
"Hung over. Mixed cocktails."
"Jesus, Sandy, she's been spending our money on cocktails."
"No, they were free. I met this woman on the plane .. ."
I don't want to hear about it... listen, Ella. It could be serious. He's paid off Frank and his brothers simply because he's married to a friend of yours and hopes she knows where you are."
"No, he doesn't want to contact me," she said.
"Why do you say that? Hasn't he got Mike Martin and Frank sending out feelers?"
"If Don really wanted to talk to me, he'd find me."
"And would you talk to him?" Nick asked fearfully. He had a sinking feeling why Ella had kept the laptop. She wanted Don to get in touch with her.
"Probably." She sounded very far away.
"But you can't. Not without someone else being there."
"This is costing you a fortune, Nick. Thanks for being involved, I mean it, and thank Sandy and Dee for me. But I'm fine."
"You're okay, really?"
"Really I am. And I can't wait to meet Derry King. I bought him a jewelled dog collar, by the way."
"I ask myself over and over if we did the right thing, sending you to New York," Nick said. Harriet rang to know had she survived.
"Yes, just about. Sorry for laying into your booze so heavily."
"Not at all. It's just that... I don't know, those dog collars are a bit tacky. You know, if you really do want to impress him that might not be the right way to go."
"Thanks, Harriet. I'm meeting him tomorrow. I'll see how it goes."
"Anyway, who am I, talking to someone like you ... you're well able to look after yourself."
"I wish."
"I recognised you as that money broker's girl, the one they thought he had run off with."
"Oh, you did." Ella's voice was dull. She often wondered if people recognised her. Now that the months had gone by very few remembered her, but of course she had to meet someone who did.
"Only because a mate of mine, a real nice woman, Nora O'Donoghue, she lost her wedding money to him."
I know Nora. She works in the kitchen of Quentins sometimes. She's very nice."
"She lodged with my sister once in Mountainview and she's getting married to this teacher. Apparently he was giving Latin lessons to Richardson's sons ... anyway, they lost their savings . .. that's why I'd remember."
"A lot of people lost their savings, my own parents did," Ella said.
"And no one knows where he is?"
"Well, we think he's in Spain. He must have been setting up a different name and home when I was with him. It all seems so long ago."
"You know, I half-wondered when I saw you if he was out here. New York would be a good place to hide, and maybe you were coming out to meet him. And I said to myself it might be dangerous for you."
Ella felt a sudden shiver of fear. It was probably the hangover, she told herself firmly. But two people within five minutes of each other warning her on the telephone was hard to take.
"No, truly, Harriet. He's long gone out of my life."
"So good luck with the film anyway, and remember what I said. Think carefully about the dog collar."
"Good luck, Harriet, and thanks for everything."
"There'll be other fellows, there always are."
"Oh, I'm sure of it. It's just that I'm not ready for one yet."
"They turn up when you least expect them."
"Did someone turn up for you, Harriet?"
"The nicest fellow that ever wore shoe leather. Married to a right bitch. She pushed him too far one day and he came over to me with a suitcase. That's ten years ago."
"And why isn't he here with you?"
"He's terrified of planes and big cities."
"And what'll he do while you're here?"
"He'll cook grand things like chicken pies and spaghetti sauces and label them and put them in the freezer. And he'll talk to his pigeons, and he'll go and have a pint with his son, and he'll be at the airport in a van to lift me and the bags home."
"Good luck to you," Ella said.
"And to you, Ella, and you know that no one blames you for that bastard. But I'd love it all to come out about your family and everything . .."
"One day," Ella promised as she looked over at the laptop computer on her desk. It was such a lovely day. No blustery wind to blow her new hairdo away, so she went for a long walk down Fifth Avenue.