‘Now, these’ll be fun.’
She pulled a couple of pairs of sky-high platform ankle boots off a rack and headed back to Cassie’s room. As it happened, they were about the right size. Cassie slipped into the red netting, six-inch heels and laced them up. They felt surprisingly stable when she tried to walk in them.
‘Course, they are, they’re dance shoes. I mean, you’re going to look a klutz if you go over on your ankle in the middle of your act. OK, now, I’m going to do your makeup. Do you trust me?’
What the hell, it was a drizzly grey Irish day.
‘Just make me sparkle.’
Ramona applied a smooth layer of light-reflecting foundation, followed by skilfully swept eyeliner. By the end of thirty minutes of elaborate brushstrokes, blending and shading, Ramona swung the chair around for Cassie to catch sight of herself in the professional makeup mirror.
‘Is that me?’
The exotic, stunning creature staring back at her was unrecognisable from the neat, modest little temporary teacher she’d been costumed for that morning. She was back in another costume.
‘It’s fabulous. If you ever want to give up performing, you can just become a makeup artist,’ said Cassie.
Ramona looked genuinely proud of herself.
‘He’s going to go crazy when he sees you, chick, just you wait.’
Chapter 16
‘Thank God, you’re here.’
Finn’s face looked almost straight into her own, such was the number of extra inches the boots had given her, but he barely seemed to register that. He looked crazy, all right, but definitely not in the way she’d hoped. Cassie smiled encouragingly, attempting to break through his agitation, but he vanished into the bedroom, leaving her holding the bottle of wine she’d had no difficulty keeping chilled in the raw evening.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Everything’s gone to shit is what’s wrong.’
It dawned on her that whatever drama she was costumed for bore no relation to the drama that was engulfing Finn at this moment. She followed him into the bedroom, where he was pulling on extra layers of T-shirts under a fleece and lacing up sturdy boots.
‘Finn, please tell me what is going on.’
He flopped on the bed, picked up his phone and looked at it distractedly. She’d never seen him like this.
‘Marisha’s mother has been taken ill and she’s gone down to Limerick. And at the same time the person who was on call at work has gone sick, and I’ve been called in as replacement until eleven.’
Cassie was starting to feel less like Catherine Zeta-Jones inChicagoand more like Krusty the Clown, which just went to show it was all about being the right person in the right place at the right time.
‘But if it’s not your day to see them and she’s just springing it on you .?.?.?’
Even as she spoke, she knew it was a mistake. His look was utterly dismissive.
‘That’s not how it works. I’m their dad. Anyway, she has all the power right now. If she wanted to cut back my access to the kids, she could do it, like that.’ He snapped his fingers.
‘But don’t married people have equal rights to their children?’
He looked up at her with a hollow expression.
‘In theory, but things are never that simple, she could turn them against me.’
‘I’m sorry, that was clueless of me, I understand.’
Oh boy. She placed the rapidly warming bottle of Sauvignon on the bedside locker and sat down beside him.
‘OK, let’s take a breath and break this down. Marisha’s in an emergency so, of course, you want to help. You certainly don’t want to give any ammunition to that weapon of a sister from the pub.’
