Chapter Twenty-seven

Izzy really resented the idea of her father throwing a party for Río Kinsella. Even though he denied that he was throwing it specially for her, Izzy suspected otherwise. She had heard him talking on the phone to caterers and florists, and he’d booked a bunch of local Lissamore musicians. She knew that Adair was going to stage this event exactly as Río had suggested, right down to the presents. He had ordered coffee-table books from Amazon–Monty Don’s on gardens, and one on wilderness places, and Nigella’s latest–and he’d asked Izzy where was the best place to buy a pashmina. She’d even seen his laptop open at Fleurissima’s website.

‘Why are you going to so much trouble?’ she asked him on the evening before they were due to travel back to Coolnamara. They’d been in Dublin for just over a week, during which her father had spoken of little else but the party he was planning. Izzy had swung by Wagamama to bring him home a treat tonight–gyozo and seafood ramen, with chocolate wasabi fudge cake for pudding. Setting her chopsticks down, she gave him a look of enquiry. ‘It would make a lot more sense to throw a party here, when you think of it. You could invite all your business contacts.’

‘This isn’t about business,’ Adair told her. ‘This is about leaving an impression on Lissamore. I want the locals to look at that house and remember the fantastic shindig they once had there. They’ve only ever associated the Villa Felicity with nobby parties attended by socialite types from the days when your mother used to entertain. I want people to remember Adair Bolger as someone who could have a good time with the locals too. I want to feel that I might be accepted by them, that I might belong.’

‘It’s a bit late for that, now that you’re selling up,’ Izzy pointed out.

Adair shrugged. ‘Maybe. But I may never have another opportunity to throw a party in that house, and I want to pull out all the stops.’

‘Don’t you think that showering Río Kinsella with gifts is overdoing it a bit?’

‘No, I don’t. She’s had a tough life and she works damn hard. She deserves a treat.’

There was no answer to that that wouldn’t sound spiteful. Izzy would just have to resign herself to the fact that her father was going to look like a prize loser (if that wasn’t a contradiction in terms), fawning over the local sexpot. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the local sexpot (for Izzy had seen the way men eyed Río) was the mother of the hottest guy she had ever met.

Finn Byrne was not only beautiful to behold and built like a god, he was also an expert lovemaker. Izzy had only slept with one guy before–more out of curiosity than anything else–and the sex had been less than mind-blowing. But Finn had made her feel like a goddess–Aphrodite rising from the waves–and he, a worshipper at her shrine. Sex with Finn was buoyant and sleek and streamlined and fluid and fun. With Finn, Izzy was in heaven, soaring weightless, an angel without wings, an Übermensch, a mermaid, a selkie.

She had a horrible feeling that she was falling in love with him.

The feeling was horrible for three reasons. Reason one: Finn lived on the other side of the country, and long-distance love affairs were notoriously difficult to manage. (However, Izzy thought that there might be a way around this, if they were going to take things a stage further.) Reason two: Izzy despised Finn’s mother, which did not augur well for any future relationship. Reason three: it looked as if her father, on the other hand, was completely infatuated with the ghastly mother.

Since Adair’s divorce from Felicity had finally come through, he was now officially eligible to remarry. There had even been a piece about it in one of the Sunday papers, with a photograph of him leaving a restaurant with a woman on his arm (it had been his PA). People were avid for news of an engagement or an affair or an elopement, and–oh! Izzy thought with a jolt–what if he did the rebound thing? What if he was blithely unaware of the cunning snare that Río Kinsella had set for him? What if he proposed to hen

Ew! Imagine–if Izzy and Finn did become an item–just imagine what it would be like to be involved with a guy whose mother was married to your father? Ew, ew! There was something so icky and distasteful about it–something almost incestuous. It made Izzy shudder to think that they might have to end up doing family stuff together. Would they have to go on holiday together? Would they have to have Sunday dinners, or celebrate Christmas at each other’s houses? What if there were offspring? Not just her offspring, but the offspring of her father and Río? Ew! And what would be the status of said offspring? Would a baby be her sister or brother as well as being Finn’s? Or would she be its second something some-thing removed? No, no! It was impossible, completely out of the question, and it wasn’t going to happen. Her lovely, lovely dad didn’t deserve to end up with a blood-sucking gold-digger like Río Kinsella, and Izzy was damn well going to make sure that the bloodsucker backed off.

She got up from the table and picked up their bowls, preparing to scrape the remains of their noodles into the bin.

‘I’ll do that, Izzy,’ said Adair. ‘You take it easy. You sorted the food.’

‘No worries, Daddy. I’m glad to do it.’

‘You’re a good girl, you know that? To look after your old dad the way you do.’

‘My old dad,’ said Izzy, ‘is not so old. And he deserves to be looked after.’

‘I’m lucky to have you.’ Adair leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.

She gave him her best smile back. ‘Dad,’ she said, ‘can I run something by you?’

‘Sure.’

‘How would you feel if I left college?’

‘What?’ Adair looked startled. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘Well…you know Finn and I were talking about how cool it would be to set up a dive outfit?’

‘In Lissamore? I thought that was just some kind of daydream.’

‘No, not at all. We did some serious talking about it last week, and I’ve been doing research since I got back to Dublin.’

‘Hang on. You’re telling me that you’re really thinking of going into business with Finn Byrne?’

‘Yes.’

Adair furrowed his brow. ‘Jeez, Izzy, I don’t know. It’d be a pretty risky undertaking.’

‘But it’s an ideal time, Dad, since the joint on Inishclare’s folded.’

‘There must be a good reason why it folded,’ said Adair. ‘Presumably they weren’t doing business.’

‘That’s because the place was ancient. They really needed to upgrade. Equipment, premises–everything needed an overhaul.’ Dishes scraped and stacked in the machine, Izzy sat back down beside her father.

‘So you wouldn’t be able to buy stuff from the Inishclare place secondhand?’

‘No.’ Izzy shook her head emphatically. ‘The whole point of this would be to create a state-of-the art outfit, with brand-new equipment. A rebreather, and camera equipment, and a couple of DPVs.’

‘DPVs?’

‘Diver propulsion vehicles. You whizz around underwater on them, James Bond-style.’

‘Pricey’ Adair looked thoughtful. ‘You’d need a dive boat too.’

‘Just an RIB, to start with. There’s good shore diving to be had in Lissamore.’

‘What else might you need?’

‘Well, premises-wise, we’d need a shop and reception area. Um.’ Izzy started counting on her fingers. ‘We’d also need an air room, and a kit room, and a classroom for academic work. A yard for hosing down the gear and a pool for confined water training.’

‘Hell, Izzy, this is very ambitious.’

‘I know! But you’ve always encouraged me to be ambitious, Daddy.’ She gave him a look of entreaty. ‘And there’s more…’

‘Bring it on,’ said Adair, weakly.

‘We thought we could offer accommodation for people on dedicated Dive Safaris, so we’d need bedrooms and bathrooms and a restaurant and a bar. Of course, we’d have to look into licensing for that. But some outfits operate an honesty bar, and that seems to work. Most divers are people of integrity, Dad. You know that. Look at me!’

‘You’re some piece of work, all right. You’ve clearly thought this through.’

‘Yes, we have. And just think how convenient it would be to offer a package! Weekends, or weeks–or even fortnights–with bed and board and dives included. And hill-walking and stuff, and Guinness and oysters, and trad sessions in O’Toole’s–all that Coolnamara shit.’

‘Sweetheart. I’d need to talk to some people about this. This isn’t a venture you can rush into, you know. And giving up college is a big decision to make.’

‘I know that, Dad. But Business Studies is boring the arse off me. I’m a bright girl. I already know half the stuff they’re teaching me. And I can learn the rest from you. You’re the savviest business person I know.’

Adair shifted a little in his seat. ‘You and Finn are–um–involved–er–romantically, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ It was best to be upfront about this. ‘It’s not official, but I really like him.’

‘And you think it’s a good idea to go into business with someone you’re romantically involved with?’

‘Why not?’

‘There’s no answer to that, I guess,’ Adair said with a sigh. ‘Look. This has all happened very suddenly, darling. We’re going to have to do a lot of hard thinking.’

‘Finn and I have already done loads of hard thinking, Dad. We’re really determined to make this work.’

‘There’s a lot to take on board. You’d have to find the right location, for starters, and look for planning permission.’

Izzy picked up the wine bottle and refilled her father’s glass. ‘We’ve thought of that too.’

‘So where would you think of setting up this dive centre?’

‘In the Villa Felicity,’ said Izzy.