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Chapter Nine

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‘Here we are in Arnotts, on their new personal shopping floor, and with me is top super shopper to the stars Eva Wu and author of the internationally renowned blog, “Dedicated”.’

Kitty stood to the side of the television camera along with Gaby, Eva’s PR girl, and watched, along with the dozen other shoppers who had gathered at the sight of the camera. The first thing the head cameraman on Thirty Minutes had taught her on her first day of filming was that the camera was an ‘asshole magnet’. As soon as you took it out in public it encouraged a plethora of ridiculous self-conscious behaviour from otherwise mostly normal people. Many of Kitty’s pieces to camera had been destroyed by idiots standing behind her in her shot waving at their mothers.

Kitty was at the department store on Henry Street in Dublin to interview Eva Wu. Unable to sleep after her second confrontation with Steve, she had spent much of the night reading up about Eva and her blog. Gaby had been more than keen on her coming here today as she had phoned Kitty three times already that morning. As Gaby was a rather pushy, loud-mouthed, fast-talking stereotypical PR girl who made things happen even when nature and the universe conspired against making them happen, Kitty imagined Eva to be quite the opposite. She wasn’t as loud as Gaby, and Kitty had to strain her ears to hear her voice. She appeared to be more reserved, quiet, but not shy.

Eva was being interviewed by one of the lead TV presenters of The Scoop, whose personal life was currently being played out on the front pages of the tabloid papers. The Scoop was a gossip and showbiz programme that also focused on beauty and fashion.

‘So, Eva,’ the presenter with the frozen forehead and overly plumped top lip said into her oversized microphone with The Scoop’s logo emblazoned across the front. ‘Give us The Scoop, what was it like meeting Brad Pitt?’

Eva smiled politely. ‘Sorry, Laura, but I, er, I didn’t meet Brad Pitt.’

Laura looked down at her notes. ‘Cut,’ she said, her big smile fading immediately. She looked at the camerawoman. ‘Let’s start that again.’ And on the count of three her smile was back on her face. ‘So, Eva, give us The Scoop, what was it like meeting George Clooney?’

Eva looked rather nervously and a little angrily in Gaby’s direction.

‘I didn’t actually meet George Clooney. What happened is that a company who were working with him contacted me and asked if I would buy a gift for him on their behalf.’

‘Ooh, George Clooney, girls!’ Laura pulled her microphone away from Eva’s mouth and screeched into it excitedly, looking directly at the hand-held camera. The camera, almost in response to her excited squeal tilted and darted at an angle towards them both. Hoping to avoid an on-air collision, Eva jerked backwards on the high stool, not looking very cool in the process. Gaby held her head in her hands.

‘So what did you buy him? An exclusive here on The Scoop.’ Laura looked at the camera excitedly again and then back to Eva. ‘Spill the beans!’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ Eva said pleasantly but coolly, ‘but I declined the job, which really does explain my company ethos.’ She brightened up then, excited to be talking about her baby. ‘I developed “Dedicated” so that I can personally dedicate my time to finding the perfect gift for the perfect person. In order to do that, I like to spend time with the person so that I can really get a sense of what it is that their heart truly desires. I can’t shop for someone I don’t know or else how is it personal shopping?’

Gaby covered her head in her hands and cringed, directly in Eva’s eyeline.

Laura’s eyes had glazed over halfway through Eva’s spiel and Kitty could bet her savings, not that there was much, that most if not all of what Eva had said would end up on the cutting-room floor. All Eva had to do was make a sexually derogatory comment about George Clooney and the producers of the show would have been delighted. Sincere as Eva sounded, to Kitty’s critical and arguably cynical ear, she wasn’t quite sure if she believed in Eva’s ethos or if she really believed that Eva believed in her ethos, but her personal shopping idea was different and it stood out from the rest of the market. She supposed that’s what companies were looking to do. It seemed quite a long way to go about doing something quite as simple as buying a present.

The man next to Eva was throwing her dagger looks at her last comment.

‘Beside Eva, we have Arnotts’ personal shopper, Jack Wilson. So, Jack, tell us about some of the things you’ll be purchasing this year for your clients.’

‘Well,’ he looked directly at the camera, ‘we have this Tom Ford iPad sleeve. Perfect for the man in your life who loves designer accessories. It will also keep the iPad protected from the sand on upcoming summer hols. It retails at one thousand five hundred euro, which is a great price for such a luxury.’

Eva’s eyes widened.

‘Stop it,’ Gaby muttered under her breath and the sound man threw her a look.

‘We also have this Coco Chanel umbrella. Perfect for the lady in your life who doesn’t like to get wet.’

‘Great for the frizzy-hair, girls,’ Laura said to the camera, and the camera went wild in response, moving in so close to her face it almost headbutted her.

‘And that retails at one thousand euro.’

Eva’s mouth dropped, as did Kitty’s, but Kitty wasn’t currently on camera. She could feel Gaby raging beside her.

‘What celebrities will you be shopping for?’ Laura asked.

‘Oh, we get them all in here.’ Jack proceeded to list any stars who were known to be jetting into the Irish capital for summer concerts and Kitty noted his use of the word ‘possibly’ before he named anyone.

‘Wow. Hear that guys? Madonna! Moving on, Eva, these sunglasses we see on the likes of Victoria Beckham and Katie Holmes, who would you see yourself buying these for?’

‘Of my clients?’

‘Come on, come on,’ Gaby urged.

‘Well, my client list is strictly private, I wouldn’t—’

‘Yes, but what kind of person would you buy these for?’

‘Who would I buy sunglasses for?’ She looked around as if someone was playing a trick on her.

‘Worn by Victoria Beckham and Katie Holmes,’ Laura said through gritted teeth. Eva’s mouth opened and closed but no words would come out.

‘Well, can I just say,’ Jack jumped in, ‘these glasses would be perfect for the women in your life who just love Victoria Beckham and Katie Holmes and who don’t want the sun in their eyes this summer.’

‘So there you have it, guys, top tips on how to buy the perfect gift for that extra special person in your life to help them feel like a celebrity.’

Cut.

Eva jumped off the stool.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Kitty heard Laura say to the camerawoman as they were packing up. ‘What are we doing next? Vajazzling?’

‘How to help them feel like a celebrity?’ Eva said to Gaby once they were outside on Henry Street. She wasn’t shouting but her anger was obvious. ‘Sunglasses? To make people feel like a celebrity? Jesus, Gaby!’

‘Okay, so that was not the best booking I’ve ever made.’

‘Not the best? Gaby, it was the worst. Of a very bad lot. How can I share what my business is about when you keep getting me publicity like this? The message is getting lost. Nobody is listening. They don’t care about “Dedicated”, they only care about my celebrity client list and George Clooney? What was that about?’ Eva’s voice was still quiet but her annoyance was clear. Knowing Eva wasn’t yet aware of her presence, Kitty remained in the background, quite enjoying the display of Eva’s true opinion of the show.

‘It impresses people. It helps bookings,’ Gaby shrugged.

‘The fact that I did not buy a gift for George Clooney impresses people?’

‘People mostly just listen to the questions.’

Eva closed her eyes and took deep breaths. ‘I would rather not do interviews at all if these are the kind that we’re getting.’

‘It helps build your profile.’

‘You think that helped?’

‘Maybe not that.’

Eva groaned. ‘All my hard work.’ But Kitty could see she was calming down. ‘We need publicity that allows me to talk about the gift of giving, how precious it is, how special it can be, particularly in these times when people are really struggling. It’s not about how expensive something is – as a nation we’ve stopped giving lavish gifts – it’s actually about thinking about what to give someone, how it can lift them when they’re down, how they can feel loved and important and special just by one simple gesture.’

‘I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me all this, I know it all,’ Gaby said, stuffing chewing gum into her mouth. If she wasn’t talking it seemed her mouth needed to be moving up and down regardless.

‘Do you?’ Eva looked at Gaby.

‘I’m shocked and appalled that you’ve asked me that,’ she said dramatically, and Kitty felt that was for her benefit. ‘How long have we been working together, Eva?’

‘Too long?’ Eva smiled.

‘Anyway, your next appointment is here.’

‘Where?’

‘There.’ She turned and looked at Kitty, who tried to move a few steps away to help save Eva’s face but it was too late, Eva’s cheeks pinked, embarrassed to have been overheard, particularly by a journalist.

‘I’m 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 it, trying to get quotes from people who didn’t wish to be quoted. She went about telling stories in a completely different way.

She paused at this sudden insight into herself, thinking Steve perhaps had been right. Steve, her long-time friend, whom she rarely had a deep conversation with, had known more about her than she had known herself. She felt goose bumps on her skin all of a sudden and looked up to see what had caused them.

She noticed then that Eva was watching her as she moved around the room examining the art on the walls but really examining herself, and this all of a sudden made Kitty feel uncomfortable. Observing was her job, the cloak of invisibility that came when watching others was what helped her gain insight, and Eva was taking that role from her. It was unnerving, unnatural for a watcher to be watched and it put her on edge. Kitty gave up prowling around the room and sank into one of the leather chairs.

The door opened and George Webb entered the room.

‘Hello,’ he said, a big smile with perfect teeth greeting the women as he looked from Kitty to Eva. ‘Ms Wu, I assume,’ he said, looking at Eva. It was the obvious choice. She was oriental, her long hair thick and silky, and so black it almost gave off a blue hue where the light hit. Her skin was flawless, she barely wore any make-up, but she didn’t need to: she was blemish free and strikingly pretty.

‘Well, it’s not me,’ Kitty joked.

‘This is Kath-Kitty Logan,’ Nigel said, joining them in the room. ‘She’s a journalist for Etcetera.’ He raised a perfect eyebrow at her as if to say she couldn’t get one past him.

George Webb seemed confused.

‘It’s a magazine,’ Nigel explained. ‘Not one you’d read.’

‘But you do,’ Kitty smiled at Nigel.

‘No. I Googled you.’

Kitty laughed. ‘I’m doing a story on Ms Wu,’ Kitty explained. ‘But please don’t worry, everything will be about her, not her clients. No names will be mentioned. I simply want to get an idea of how she works.’ If the story was indeed about how Eva worked, or if it was about something else entirely. So far, Kitty had no clue whatsoever but she tried to sound confident in her sale.

George Webb thought about it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Sounds fine to me. You’re a popular lady,’ he added, sitting opposite Eva and studying her.

George was striking, extremely handsome, well groomed in that modern Irishman way, with two separate eyebrows, tweezed nose hairs, attention to the finer detail of his face without embarrassment. He wore a smart suit, nothing too elaborate, but stylish and fitted. Eva was looking at him with the face of somebody who was looking at something beautiful, just as he was looking at her. The mutual attraction was obvious. It was as if Kitty wasn’t even in the room, which was how she liked it – when she was working, at least. She was going to enjoy this one.

‘I got your details from Nigel,’ George explained. ‘He told me you were the best.’

Nigel, who was making them coffee, threw them a look, annoyed. Kitty knew he was the reason they were there when he had gone out of his way to be so entertainingly rude.

‘Well, that’s very nice of Nigel,’ Eva said softly, genuinely moved.

‘I also believe you worked with a neighbour of mine, well, a neighbour here at work. Elizabeth Toomey?’ George continued.

‘Ah, yes.’ Eva’s eyes lit up. ‘She works across the road in PricewaterhouseCoopers.’

‘Did you hear she got a promotion in January?’

‘Yes, I heard. I was delighted for her.’

‘Her boss must really have liked that gift you got for him.’

Eva immediately closed up. Kitty could see the transformation right before her, like an insect going into a cocoon. George could sense it too.

‘I think she deserved it. It appeared to me that she worked extremely hard,’ was all Eva said.

‘I think your gift helped,’ he laughed.

Kitty was surprised at him. He was clever enough to leave it alone but he couldn’t, he was desperate to find out and his desperation showed. Knowing Eva’s philosophy on client confidentiality, Kitty feared this did not bode well for the charming George.

Eva just smiled.

‘So what was it?’ he asked, and looked at Kitty. ‘I bet you want to know.’

Kitty held her hands up as if to back out of it. ‘I’m merely an observer here.’

A gift that could get someone a promotion? Of course she wanted to know, and she wanted to know where she could buy it too. The sound was so light she could have imagined it but she was sure she heard a light snort as Nigel put the coffee cup down before her.

Nigel stepped in to explain. ‘What Mr Webb brought you here for today was to discuss his upcoming family gathering. They’re having a big reunion. Lots of people coming together, it’s very exciting for them all,’ he said drily and Eva, Kitty and George couldn’t help but laugh. ‘His sister is also getting married, it’s his grandfather’s eightieth birthday and they’ve decided to put it all into the same wonderful celebration day. Mr Webb quite simply needs your help.’

‘Thanks, Nigel,’ George said, and on that note Nigel left the room. George looked at his watch and seemed concerned.

Kitty sensed their time was up. Nigel had done what he was supposed to do, George had politely made time for the woman and now it was over. She drank her coffee quickly.

George looked at Eva. ‘What do you think?’

‘I’m sorry, what do I think about what?’

‘About taking the job.’

‘Where are your family based?’

George seemed confused. ‘Cork.’

‘When is the event?’

‘Here’s the thing, I haven’t been terribly organised. It’s next week. Friday. But Nigel – or I – can give you all the details you’re looking for.’ He leaned forward, his face intent. If Eva was any less beautiful, Kitty suspected George would have left the room a long time ago.

‘That’s very close. I usually take a few weeks at the very least.’

‘Weeks?’ George’s surprise reflected Kitty’s feelings exactly.

‘How many gifts are you thinking of?’

‘Oh, let’s see, Nigel has all these details but … one for my grandfather’s birthday, and one for my sister and her husband-to-be.’ He concentrated on a bit of invisible fluff on his trouser leg and picked at it and flicked it to the ground before finding another. ‘Oh, and there’s one other for another person.’

Kitty felt genuine disappointment at that, not for herself – George had barely looked her way since he’d entered the room, his attention had been entirely on Eva – and not just for business reasons. Kitty had to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from saying anything. It was obvious who the other person was, but he had been so charming, and though Eva was professional and a woman of few words she had clearly been responsive to him. Kitty could see that, and now there was a nice little connection between the two, which just made him saying what he had to say all the more awkward.

‘For your girlfriend?’ Eva asked, professionally.

‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s a one-year thing,’ he practically mumbled.

One final-year thing, Kitty thought to herself.

‘An anniversary,’ Eva said, making a note in her book. ‘Let me just explain how I work, Mr Webb—’

‘Call me George, please.’

‘George,’ she smiled. The connection was back and Kitty was invisible again. ‘I like to spend time with the people I’m buying gifts for. I like to see who they really are, what it is they really want and I choose items designed solely for them. I’m not sure if your assistant explained that to you.’

‘No he didn’t.’ George seemed uncomfortable with that. ‘I could just give you a budget of say, three thousand? And you could find something for them within that budget. Do you work on an hourly basis? I’m not sure how this works, because if you do, it really doesn’t matter about spending time with them, I’m willing to pay you a fee that makes it worth your while.’

‘I’m probably not the person you need for this,’ Eva said, which surprised Kitty. He was willing to pay her anything and she was turning it down. She wanted to throw her notebook at Eva’s head. ‘I think what you’re looking for is more of a personal shopper. You describe the person, they find the gift. A nice perfume for your mother, perhaps matching luggage tickets and passport holders for your sister and her husband, that kind of thing?’

‘Brilliant, that’s brilliant,’ he said, lighting up. Then he looked at his watch again and that frown returned; he was even later now.

‘I’m sorry, George, this job isn’t for me.’ Eva smiled and stood.

He sat on the couch and looked up at her in confusion. Then he realised what was going on and stood too. ‘Okay.’ He shook her hand, a bit put out, a bit annoyed. ‘Thanks for coming. I’ll make sure Nigel shows you out. I’m late for a meeting,’ he said. He took one last look at her, an intrigued one, he nodded at Kitty, said goodbye and left the room.

Nigel reappeared immediately and he, Kitty and Eva rode the elevator in silence.

‘Why did you suggest Eva for George?’ Kitty asked Nigel.

‘Is this for your piece?’ He said the word ‘piece’ as if it were a dirty word.

‘If you want it to be.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Fine, then, it’s off the record.’

He gave her a sarky look, then looked at Eva to answer the question. ‘I’ve worked for him for six years and for six years I’ve had to do all his lists. Birthdays, Christmas, christenings, you name it. I think it’s time his grandfather stopped receiving handkerchiefs and ties, though they were of the finest quality, of course,’ he said, complimenting himself.

‘Does he have a nice family?’ Eva asked, which Kitty thought was a rather unusual question.

‘Nice? They’d make you sick,’ Nigel said, which they both took to mean yes.

‘As wonderful as I am.’ He looked at Kitty, blinked his long lashes, then turned back to Eva. ‘They deserve better,’ he said seriously.

Eva nodded.

‘And I,’ he returned to his mock tones, ‘am tired of patrolling the aisles looking for anti-wrinkle moisturisers. I’ve better things to be doing.’

‘Like making coffee,’ Kitty said as they stepped out of the elevator.

‘Eddie will show you out, Kath-Kitty.’ He nodded his head at the burly security guard standing in the corner.

The doors closed and Kitty laughed, and they found themselves back on the path outside the IFSC.

‘Well,’ Kitty looked at Eva, feeling that she had certainly witnessed something very unusual in there, ‘that was interesting.’

‘Was it?’ Eva looked uncertain.

‘Mr Webb certainly took to you,’ Kitty said, and Eva’s cheeks pinked.

‘Mr Webb shouldn’t be taking to anyone,’ Eva said drily. ‘Mr Webb has a one-year anniversary to celebrate.’

‘Is that why you said no to the job?’

‘No! If you think I’m in this job to find men then you’re sorely mistaken,’ Eva said, ‘otherwise I would have said yes.’

They laughed.

‘So why did you say no to the job, exactly?’ Kitty asked.

‘Would you like to go for a coffee?’

Kitty weighed up her options. Eva was very nice and her job made for interesting conversation but she wasn’t sure there was anything there unless of course Constance’s story lay in Eva’s personal life. So far, to Kitty’s journalistic eye, there was nothing dramatic or overtly interesting about Eva. Once again Constance had found a subject that Kitty couldn’t yet identify. Kitty thought about the benefits of progressing with the other ninety-eight people on her list – people who had more immediate exciting stories to share – versus spending a few more hours with Eva to ask her about her life. Eva was a lovely girl, but Kitty was under pressure. She needed to move on.

‘I won’t take up any more of your time,’ Kitty smiled politely, feeling guilty over Eva’s fallen expression. ‘But before I go, I just have one question.’

‘Of course.’ Eva brightened again.

‘I was wondering, can you remember the first gift, really memorable gift, that you received that really meant something to you, that perhaps sparked something inside you? Perhaps it sparked this … this desire you have to buy people the perfect gift. That gift could be the reason you got into this … career.’

Eva looked sad and then her face brightened as the mask came back on again. ‘Yes,’ she said perkily. ‘It was a My Little Pony stable and pony. It was from my grandmother. I was seven years old and I absolutely loved it. I played with it every second of every day.’

‘Really?’ Kitty asked, surprised, disappointed even.

‘Yes.’ Her mask didn’t budge. ‘Why?’

‘I just thought that there was something, something with more meaning, or …’ She looked at her for more but Eva’s face was blank.

‘Nope. I really loved that pony,’ she said, her smile tight.

Eva watched Kitty Logan cycle away from her and she cursed herself. She could tell when she was being dropped like a hot potato. It had happened plenty of times before. Gaby would never forgive her for this one. Her one real opportunity to talk about her business in a way that she wanted and she had blown it. But she couldn’t give Kitty what she wanted. Kitty wanted more, she wanted to get inside Eva’s head, inside her heart. Eva knew she did that to other people, but she didn’t feel comfortable allowing anyone to occupy that place within her. She barely went to that place herself.

Her phone rang and she sighed and answered it. ‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Eva, can you come get me?’ Eva heard the whimper in her voice, the sniff, the weakness, and her heart dropped.

‘What happened?’ she asked, her voice thick with dread, knowing already.

‘It’s my wrist. I thought it was just a sprain but it’s been hurting me all night. I couldn’t sleep, and so I finally thought I should check it. They said it’s broken.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘The hospital.’

‘Where’s Dad?’

Silence. Then a quiet, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him today. Bessie brought me to hospital but she had to go to help Clare. She’s just had a baby, she needs help with the boys, and I can’t ask Bessie to come get me again.’

Eva felt the anger surge through her. Hot, hopeless anger that she could do nothing with, standing on the quays in Dublin city. And it would stay with her, no doubt, all the way back on the train to Galway, until she would arrive at the station, exhausted and drained.

‘I’m in Dublin,’ she said. ‘I won’t be home until this evening.’

‘That’s fine, I can wait.’

‘Why don’t you get a taxi?’

‘No. No, thanks. I’ll wait for you.’

Eva knew she’d say that. She never wanted anyone to see her like that. She would sit in the house until she’d healed, no doubt.

‘It will be hours, Mum.’

‘I’ll wait for you,’ her mother said with a firmness in her voice. Eva wondered where that strength disappeared to when the time really called for it. ‘I just hope I can get this cast off for your father’s birthday. He’s decided to have a party.’

‘When?’ Dread filled Eva again.

‘Friday week.’

‘Friday week? But …’ she stalled. ‘I can’t make it Friday week. He could have given me some notice at least.’

‘Oh, your father will be so disappointed,’ Eva’s mother said in a voice that made Eva’s stomach churn.

‘Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t turn down work – you know what it’s like these days.’ She looked up at the building she had just walked out of with Kitty. ‘Besides, I’ll be in Cork …’

Cecelia Ahern 3-Book Collection: One Hundred Names, How to Fall in Love, The Year I Met You

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