Page 51 of For Love or Money
‘Well, maybe it won’t be so bad.’
‘You’re kidding! It’ll be hideous.’
‘I know. I was just trying to be nice.’
16
‘Where are we off to, then?’ Lesley asked on Monday afternoon when Al picked her up. He had rung the previous evening and said there was somewhere he wanted to take her.
‘Going to see a man about a dog,’ he said as he pulled away from her house.
‘Just FYI, I don’t like surprises. As my boyfriend, you should know that.’
He glanced at her. ‘Okay, we’re going to the Players Theatre.’
‘Is that your idea of a date? Going to a matinee in the middle of the afternoon like a pair of fecking pensioners? I know you’re paying me, but I won’t be putting that on Facebook.’
‘Hey, calm down,’ Al laughed. ‘It’s not a date. Jane suggested I talk to Conor, remember? He’s the director of the theatre.’
‘Wait, is this the same Conor who barged into Dinner Dates that night? Helen O’Neill’s husband?’
‘Yes, that’s him. He’s an old family friend.’
‘How does Jane thinkhecould help?’
‘I don’t know exactly. But he has a rep in our family as a sort of all-round Mr Fix-It.’
‘Well, he sounds like a very unsavoury character, if you ask me – “fixing” things for his friends while he hides behind a mild-mannered theatre director facade.’
Al laughed. ‘He’s not shady. He won’t “off” Stella, if that’s what you’re worried about. Jane just thought he might have some ideas. Heisa good problem-solver.’
Conor’s officewas on the top floor of an old Georgian building adjacent to the theatre itself. It was a large high-ceilinged room, with an ornate ceiling rose and decorative coving. Across a wide expanse of thick moss-coloured carpet, Conor sat behind an imposing mahogany desk. He was writing in a thick leather-bound diary as they entered, and looked up at them briefly.
‘Al,’ he said, nodding hello.
‘This is Lesley,’ Al said.
Conor put down his pen. ‘Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.’ He waved them to a couple of squashy armchairs in front of his desk.
Al and Lesley sat, and watched Conor in silence as he picked up his pen and resumed his writing, his movements unhurried and careful.
‘Right,’ he said finally, closing the book. He looked up and flashed them a business-like smile. ‘What can I do for you two?’ He clasped his hands on his desk and leaned towards them, giving them his full attention.
‘Well,’ Al began, ‘it’s about Peter. I suppose you’ve heard that he’s engaged?’
‘Yes,’ Conor said. ‘Bloody idiot! Rafe’s in quite a tizzy about it, isn’t he?’
‘None of us are exactly thrilled.’
‘No. Understandably. How does Jane feel about it?’
‘She’s not happy,’ Al said. ‘Naturally she’s worried about Peter.’
‘Naturally. I never understood what those two were thinking, getting divorced.’
‘Anyway, she suggested I talk to you. She thought you might be able to help. I’m not sure what exactly she expected you to do, but I said I’d come and see you, so – here I am.’ Al smiled awkwardly.
Conor peered at Al over the top of his glasses and said nothing. Then he opened the big diary and began flicking through pages. ‘We have the theatre festival coming up in October ... Have they set a date for the wedding yet?’
