Cecelia Ahern 3-Book Collection: One Hundred Names, How to Fall in Love, The Year I Met You. Cecelia AhernЧитать онлайн книгу.
so sorry, I didn’t …’ she looked pointedly at Gaby ‘… I didn’t know you had arrived.’
Gaby took the heat again.
‘That’s okay, it was good for me to hear all that. I won’t pretend I wasn’t listening.’
‘I’m so embarrassed. I’m a big fan of Etcetera. Huge. I read it every month. I was so glad when you called.’
‘Thank you,’ Kitty beamed. ‘My editor was in touch with you last year I believe, Constance Dubois?’
‘I’m familiar with Constance, but no, she wasn’t in touch. Should she have been?’ She looked at Gaby. ‘Was she?’
Gaby shrugged. ‘Not that I know of. I run everything by you.’
Kitty was new to their relationship but even she knew that wasn’t true. Her heart dropped at the discovery that yet another person on the list hadn’t been contacted by Constance. What was this list about? ‘Well, would you be open to me doing a story on you?’
‘Yes, of course. I mean, what’s the story, or the angle, as you say?’
Kitty froze. That was an excellent question. ‘The story is about you and, well, ninety-nine other people. It’s about the thing that links you all together.’
‘One hundred people?’ Gaby seemed disappointed it wasn’t solely about Eva. ‘Who are the other people? Anyone we know?’
‘No. Nobody you would know, I don’t think. Though that’s a good question.’ Kitty suddenly had a thought and rooted in her bag for her list of names. ‘Are any of these names familiar to you?’ She had been directing the question at Eva but Gaby pushed her head close to Eva’s to check the names. Eva took her time reading through the names, Gaby was finished in three seconds.
‘Nope,’ Gaby said. ‘Nobody. Can I have a copy of these names?’
‘Why?’
‘So I can look into who they are. I don’t want to agree to this interview unless I know who my client is being associated with.’
It was actually a fair enough request but for all that, it took both Eva and Kitty by surprise.
‘I have my moments,’ Gaby smiled at Eva, in an ‘I told you so’ way.
‘I don’t think there’s any need for that,’ Eva said softly. ‘Look, why don’t we go for a coffee somewhere, just the two of us?’ Gaby scowled. ‘And we can talk about it all somewhere more relaxing than Henry Street at lunch hour.’
‘Good idea,’ Kitty said, relieved.
‘The only thing is, I have an appointment with a client in thirty minutes in the IFSC, would you like to meet after that? Or we could walk and talk?’
‘Or … I could come and watch you at work?’
Eva looked uncertainly at Gaby. If ever there was a time Eva needed Gaby to speak on her behalf it was then, as she clearly wasn’t comfortable with the suggestion, but Gaby wasn’t picking up on it. She was chewing her gum and staring at her blankly.
‘What?’
‘It would be a good opportunity for me to see how you really work,’ Kitty said. ‘You know, that you’re not just a regular personal shopper.’
Eva smiled. ‘You’re good. Fine. Let’s go.’
The IFSC, the Irish Financial Services Centre, was by the River Liffey along North Wall Quay and Custom House Quay. The centre employed fourteen thousand people and housed more than four hundred and thirty financial operations along with hotels, restaurants and shops. The address they were heading to was Molloy Kelly Solicitors in Harbourmaster Place, a large firm that dealt with banking law and commercial litigation, and the meeting Eva had lined up was with George Webb, partner in the firm. Kitty’s Google told her that he was responsible for Banking Law, Insolvency, Bankruptcy and Corporate Recovery, Insurance Law, Defamation, Separation and Divorce.
‘So are these usually the kinds of people you work for?’ Kitty asked. ‘Busy businessmen who don’t have time to shop for their loved ones?’
Eva looked at her curiously. ‘What makes you think that’s the case here?’
‘I’ve Googled him, I know his type. Work first, family second. They’re so used to having people do things for them – their dry-cleaning, their shopping, their housework – that buying presents for their loved ones is not on their list of priorities.’
‘Well, if that’s the case, I won’t be working for him.’
‘Why not?’
‘I would rather find someone who actually wants to find the perfect gift for a loved one as opposed to someone who couldn’t be bothered. I choose my clients as much as they choose me,’ she said, wide-eyed and sincere.
Kitty was immediately intrigued, both by Eva’s philosophy and by her earnestness.
‘I invest a lot of my time into my clients, Kitty,’ Eva smiled. ‘I need to know that they care about who they’re giving a gift to, or else how can I possibly care? I’m sure it’s like you writing a story. If you don’t care, how can the reader?’
Kitty thought about that. The girl spoke the truth.
After a ten-minute wait in a sparkling marble reception, the elevator pinged and a young gentleman in a dapper suit with pink tie and handkerchief called them from the lift. Kitty immediately guessed that this was not George Webb; he reminded her more of a younger Julian Clary. His eyebrows were tweezed to perfection, his skin glowed as if it had been carefully exfoliated and nurtured since childhood, she didn’t detect make-up but there was a sheen from his high cheekbones that made her jealous.
‘I’m Nigel,’ the camp dapper young man introduced himself to Kitty, though his words were clipped and his hand wasn’t extended. ‘I’ll take you to the office. Who are you?’
‘Kath— Kitty Logan,’ she stumbled again, not yet used to using her nickname as her professional name.
‘And what are you doing here today, Kath-Kitty?’ he asked, mocking her mistake.
‘Work experience,’ Kitty lied sweetly for no particular reason other than to annoy him.
‘For the mature student, I assume,’ he preened, not believing her.
Eva just smiled and shook her head at the two of them.
He led them to a waiting room. ‘Wait here, he’ll be with you shortly.’
Eva sat down and Kitty wandered around the room examining everything. They were very different creatures, that was for sure. Eva was the type to do what she was told, follow orders and be polite. Kitty couldn’t, she never could. She always felt there was something she wasn’t being let in on, something further to what she saw, and she always wanted to know what that was. She had always been profoundly curious as a child, trying to see through façades and uncover secrets people hid away for no reason other than because they felt the secrets meant something, though in reality they probably didn’t to anybody else. At college she would separate from her friends on nights out and usually end up sitting beside the person she considered to be the most interesting, challenging, complex person in the room, while she listened to their fascinating stories. She sought out unusual minds, loved hearing both the mundane and fantastical. She didn’t believe that what you saw was necessarily all there was and she felt a burning desire to discover what was really beyond the layers of each person. It was this fascination and, indeed, love for people that she brought to her stories in Etcetera and perhaps this love for people had not transferred well in her stories on Thirty Minutes. While working there and covering investigative stories, her love had changed to distrust, a need to know what people were hiding from her. Her usual skills of simple conversation and understanding had been altered to game playing, trying to get people to speak without their realising