One Hundred Names Page 9

  ‘I was joking, Steve, but go on, I see you’re in the mood to rip me to shreds again.’ Before he had the chance to do so, she dived in, ‘Just so you know, I am truly sorry about what happened to him.’

  ‘What happened to him? Something didn’t just happen to him, Kitty, you caused it, you actively caused it, not some random unexplained unlucky event that just happened.’

  ‘I know that! Okay, I phrased it wrong. I can’t win with you. Of course I know it’s my fault. I have a bloody conscience, you know. I will be sorry every single day for the rest of my life.’

  ‘After the fact,’ he said, confusing her. ‘You’re always sorry after you do something. You never think about how they feel or how you’d feel before. That’s what annoys me. You’ve learned nothing from the Colin Maguire situation. Here you are interviewing a nice little old lady and her nice little story is not enough for you. You always want more.’

  Kitty was so shocked by his mood swing that her eyes stung with hot frustrated tears. She looked around and tried to focus on everything else around her to stop the tears from falling. Kitty didn’t cry easily but she was having an emotional time lately and she had never been so out of favour with Steve. His opinion was of high importance to her. She had heard her mother accuse her of everything under the sun since January but nothing – nothing – could affect her as much as one simple look of disappointment from Steve.

  They finished their meat in silence, she paid the bill and they walked in silence to her flat.

  ‘I’ll make sure it’s safe,’ Steve said quietly, running up the stairs to check the area.

  The door that led to the stairs up to her flat was always left open. As much as Kitty had pleaded with the landlords they couldn’t lock it as it was the shared door to the second internal door, which led to the dry-cleaners. This meant that at any time of the day anybody could walk up the stairs to her door.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said, coming back down. ‘Stinks of shit, though.’

  ‘Thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it. Especially now that you have a girlfriend,’ she teased childishly, elbowing him.

  ‘She wants to meet you,’ he said, softening.

  ‘Yeah, cool, that would be great,’ she said over-enthusiastically, and it was obvious. ‘Well, I’d better get inside before somebody chucks a water balloon filled with vomit at my head. I’m glad you’re happy, Steve.’ She tried to make it sound jolly and genuine but all that she heard was her own voice saying, Your happiness makes me jealous and unhappy, Steve. I am a bitter and twisted human being.

  She blocked her nose and mouth with her jacket as she ran up the steps to her flat and tried to convince herself that the unbearable stench was the reason for her crying.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘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.’

  Ev
a’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,’ Gabby 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 curiousl
y. ‘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.