Free Upside Down Inside Out by Monica McInerney Page B

carefree days himself, Joseph thought now. Never had a year off to do what he liked, travel around, take it easy. He’d gone
    straight from school to university to starting his own company. And the success of his very first design, the ergonomic office chair, had meant he’d been pushed into the world of business straight away, dealing with manufacturers keen to buy his designs, managing projects, hiring staff. At the start it had just been him in a small office. Now he had a PA, a financial consultant and a team of designers working for him.
    He felt exhausted again just thinking about them all. Covering his head with the complimentary paper thin blanket, he shut his eyes and tried, once more, to sleep.
     
    ‘That’s wonderful, thank you,’ Eva said as the flight attendant helped her convert her comfortable seat into a completely flat bed.
    ‘You’re welcome, madam. Pleasant dreams.’ Eva settled herself under the blanket. She felt a little bit odd, all tucked up, with the other business class travellers lying around her. It was like being in a boarding-school dormitory. If she started a chant or a singsong, would they all join in? she wondered. She surreptitiously looked around. No, she seemed to be the only one who hadn’t done this a hundred times before. Certainly the only one who was thanking the flight attendant for every little thing.
    She couldn’t wait to tell Lainey about it. Mind you, Lainey probably wouldn’t be surprised. She’d no
    doubt talked her way into upgrades plenty of times. Lainey was very good at things like that. Taking control. Getting things done. She always had been, even when they were children, growing up in the same street in Dunshaughlin. Lainey had been the one in charge from the beginning, inventing games, making the decisions, never short of ideas. They’d be world famous child popstars, she’d decided at the age often. An Irish version of The Osmonds or the Jacksons. Unfortunately Lainey was tone deaf and couldn’t play an instrument. But Eva loved to sing, and the teacher at school had once publicly praised her singing voice. ‘I’ll be the brains behind it instead,’ Lainey had said confidently. ‘I’ll write the lyrics and be the manager and you write the music and sing.’ Their first joint effort was ‘You Threw Me Away (Like A Tissue)’, performed to an audience of their parents. Lainey had been disgusted at their reaction. ‘You’d think they could have at least pretended to like it, wouldn’t you?’ she’d said to Eva. ‘Your mother was nearly crying laughing.’ Too bad, Lainey had declared then. We’ll be writers instead. The new Jane Austen and Emily Bronte. They got to chapter three of Love is Leaping. Then the Olympics had sparked an interest in gymnastics. Which led to ballet. Which led to fashion design. Which led to painting. They’d both been taken aback to discover that Eva had real artistic talent. Lainey had noticed it first.
    ‘Yours really does look like the landscape,’ she’d said with surprise after they’d spent the day painting at the Hill of Tara. ‘Mine just looks like the bottom of a pond.’ Eva had shyly agreed. It wasn’t often that she was better than Lainey at something. But her painting did look good, the different shades of green and brown and light blue and muddy white nearly mirroring the panoramic view in front of them. They had to exploit this new-found talent, Lainey decided. Eva could paint a Hill of Tara series. They could sell them to the tourists at weekends and during the summer holidays. ‘We can set up a little stall, dress up in Irish dancing costumes so we look like the real thing, sell the lot and make an absolute fortune. What do you think?’ But then Lainey’s parents had dropped the bombshell. The family was emigrating to Australia. Her father had decided that his building skills would be much better appreciated in Melbourne than they were in Ireland. Despite huge opposition from Mr Byrne’s much