Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

‘You don’t know the first thing about running a business. You fly helicopters, for Christ’s sake. You are utterly inadequate and emotionally incapable of dealing with the pressures of running a business. You will ruin this company, Adam.’ She tried to stare him down, but it didn’t work. In the end she stormed out of the room with Maurice in tow, his energy spent now, shuffling along behind her like a shadow.

‘I’m sorry about that, Arthur,’ Adam said.

‘Not to worry, old chap.’ Arthur got to his feet and started packing up his briefcase. ‘I quite enjoyed it,’ he admitted, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eye.

Adam’s phone rang. A concerned expression came over his face as he looked at the screen, and he excused himself and moved to the corner of the room to take the call.

Arthur leaned across to me and said quietly, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing with this man, but keep doing it – I haven’t seen Lavinia get a talking to like that in a very long time and I can’t recall this young man ever looking quite so self-assured. It rather suits him.’

I smiled, feeling proud of Adam and of how far he’d come, all in a little under two weeks. But at the same time he had a long road ahead of him – and I wasn’t only thinking about Basil’s and the pressures that would bring. The problems Adam had weren’t the kind that would go away overnight, or even in two weeks. I could only hope he was in a better place now, with the tools to help himself. If not, I had failed.

‘Arthur, it looks as though you’re going to be busy for a while,’ Adam said, coming off the phone. ‘That was Nigel. It seems Lavinia had already done a deal with him to merge Bartholomew and Basil and sell the whole lot to Mr Moo.’

‘The ice-cream company?’ Arthur asked, astonished.

Adam nodded. ‘They were working on the fine print and were all set to announce it as soon as Lavinia got control.’

Arthur thought about it, then laughed. ‘Your father certainly led her down the garden path. He took great delight in doing it, too.’ Then he got serious. ‘She acted without any authority whatsoever. Lavinia has no role in Basil, it won’t stand up … unless, of course, you want it to?’

Adam shook his head.

Arthur smiled. ‘Nigel is going to be one very angry boy.’

‘I’m used to angry Basils.’

‘You probably don’t care to hear it, Adam, but your father would be proud of you. He wouldn’t tell you, of course, he’d rather die first – which he has. But take it from me, kid, he’d be proud of you. He told me you didn’t want the company, but –’ he held his hand up to stop Adam explaining – ‘I feel you should know that we worked hard over the last few months, drawing up this will. It was most definitely you he wanted at the helm.’

Adam nodded his gratitude. ‘You’ll miss him, Arthur. Friends for how long?’

‘Sixty-five years.’ Arthur smiled sadly, then he chuckled. ‘Ah, who am I kidding? I’ll be the only one who misses the old bastard.’

I looked at Adam, hands in the pockets of his smart suit, standing by the old fireplace in the mansion, a portrait of his grandfather above the mantelpiece, the resemblance startling. He was delicious. We locked eyes then and my heart began to hammer. My stomach flipped and whirled, I couldn’t take my eyes off him and hoped he couldn’t read how I was feeling.

‘You asked me what I used to do here, when I was all alone as a boy.’

I nodded, happy he had spoken first, not trusting myself to say anything.

‘It’s noon.’ He checked his watch. ‘We have four more hours of light and then we can head back to Dublin. Okay with you?’

I nodded. The longer I had him to myself, the better.

In four hours, I got a taste of what his life had been like at Avalon Manor. We went out on the near-freezing lake in the boat, we ate a picnic that Maureen had prepared for us: cucumber sandwiches and freshly squeezed orange juice, because that’s what he used to have. Then we climbed in a golf buggy and he drove me around the two-thousand-acre estate. We went clay-pigeon shooting, had a go at archery, he showed me where he went fishing … But the longest time was spent sitting in the boatshed, wrapped in blankets, drinking hot whisky from flasks, watching the sun going down on the lake.

He sighed, a heavy weary sigh.

I looked at him.

‘Am I going to be able to do this?’

My mind ran through a selection of words and phrases from my positive-thinking books, but in the end I stopped myself, settling instead on a simple, ‘Yes.’

‘Everything is possible with you, isn’t it?’

‘Most things are possible.’ Then, more to myself. ‘But not everything.’

‘Like what?’

Like me and you.

23

How to Prepare Yourself for a Goodbye

Late afternoon darkness began to descend and after a magical few hours, feeling as if it was just the two of us alone in the world, I came back to earth with a thud. It was time to return to Dublin. Pat drove us and we travelled in a comfortable silence. There was the occasional attempt at chat, but each time we plummeted into silence again my stomach twisted with knots. The closer we got to Dublin, the nearer his birthday drew, and soon it would be time for us to say goodbye. An intense two weeks, over before we knew it. The most intense two weeks of my life, in fact, finished, just like that. Of course it was possible we’d be able to see each other again, but it would never be the same, it would never be as intimate, as intense. And I should have been happy. I should have been celebrating: when I met him, he wanted his life to end, and now he seemed to be on the right road to finding his way. If I cared about him, the last thing I should want was for him to need me the way he had back then.

Pat turned off the motorway and headed for the city centre.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, sitting up.

‘I booked a room in the Morrison Hotel,’ Adam explained. ‘It’s nearer City Hall. I thought it would be easier.’

I felt my chest tighten and a light panic setting in. We were separating, parting ways. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In out, in out. Perhaps it was me who had the separation anxiety and not him.

‘But our time’s not up yet. We have one day left. Adam, if you think you’re getting rid of me before this is done, you’re wrong. I’m sleeping on your couch.’

He smiled. ‘I’m fine.’

He looked fine.

‘Well, maybe you are right now, at this moment, but we both know how quickly that can change. Besides, you have so much work to do on yourself. This is only the beginning, you know. And you really need to agree to see a therapist.’

‘I agree,’ he said simply. He looked amused.

‘This isn’t funny, Adam. Just because Maria is coming to the party doesn’t mean anything for sure, not yet. I insist on staying with you until our deal is done.’

‘I got us connecting rooms.’ He smiled. ‘And thanks for the reminder.’

I paused, embarrassed. ‘Oh. I wasn’t trying to panic you, I was only, you know, trying to prepare you for what might happen.’ And again it struck me that I was the one who needed to be prepared.

When we arrived at the Morrison Hotel we were escorted straight up in the elevator to the top floor, where Adam had booked a two-bedroom penthouse suite.

‘The view you requested, sir,’ the concierge said proudly.

I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and peered out. Our room overlooked the River Liffey, and right below our window was the Ha’penny Bridge, shining gloriously, lit up on this dark evening with green uplighters and its three decorative lamps shining out over the water. I looked at Adam, alarm bells ringing in my head, but I tried not to react.