Twenty-Seven
As Marian Montclare looked out the kitchen window of her luxurious mobile, she could not believe her eyes. It was Maggie MacNamara. Well, obviously she was married now, so MacNamara was probably no longer her surname, just as Gilhooley was no longer Marian’s. What the hell was she doing in the next mobile? Didn’t someone called Cassidy own it? Imagine having spent the best part of twenty thousand pounds for a luxury mobile and site, only to find herself side by side with her erstwhile friend. Maggie was really the last person she wanted to see. It had been fifteen years – no, more – since they had parted on bad terms. Deep down, Marian acknowledged that at least Maggie had made an effort to save the friendship. Her pride had not allowed her to accept the offer of reconciliation. As far as she was concerned, Maggie had ruined their friendship by accusing her of treating her like a doormat, just because of a silly mix-up over holiday arrangements. That had pierced Marian to the core; for Maggie, who had always looked up to her and been as close as a sister, to criticize her like that had been unthinkable.
She watched as the other woman got into her car. Although it was hard for her, Marian had to admit that Maggie looked a million dollars. Such a change from the tomboy she had known. When she and Maggie were going to school together, all Maggie had ever worn was jeans in the winter and shorts in the summer and her thick auburn hair had a flyaway wildness that her friend had never been able to control. The radiant woman who had run up those veranda steps in her chic tailored dress, with a figure and tan worth dying for and a short sophisticated hairstyle, was light years away from the Maggie she remembered. Nevertheless, Marian had recognized her immediately. Obviously the same couldn’t be said for Maggie, but then she had been in such a rush that she had hardly glanced in her direction.
Almost as a reflex action, Marian got up from her lounger and retired to the privacy of her mobile to come to terms with the shock. She hoped she was mistaken, until she saw Maggie running down the veranda steps in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Then she knew without a doubt that like a bad penny she had returned to her life. It was not a pleasant thought; in fact it was most unsettling. How she was going to handle their inevitable encounter she had no idea. And they would surely meet unless she stayed skulking in the mobile for the duration of the holiday. She wondered what Maggie’s husband was like and what he did for a living. Obviously he wasn’t as successful as her own husband, Alex, Marian thought with satisfaction. After all her former friend was only driving a Starlet; she herself drove a Volvo. The dress had looked expensive undeniably; with shorts and a T-shirt you couldn’t tell. But then Maggie had never been a great one for clothes.
Marian always liked to start from a position of superiority and she felt fairly certain that Alex and she were one of the most affluent couples on the site, if not indeed the most affluent. That thought cheered her up somewhat and she walked into her bedroom and flung open her wardrobe. Time to change. What would she wear that would look glam but casual? What would make a good statement, as they said on fashion TV? She scanned the rows of clothes on the racks and drew out an outfit that caught her eye. It consisted of mint-green and blue tie-dyed Lycra leggings and matching fitted gauntlet top, worn under a mint-green silk chiffon overshirt. She’d got it in Pia Bang just before she came down to Wicklow. It was ideal, though perhaps she would not wear the overshirt. It might be just a bit OTT in the middle of the afternoon; she wanted to make a statement – not a newsflash! Marian smiled wryly. She had never thought she’d end up wanting to impress Maggie, the one person she had always been able to be herself with. But now after all that had happened between them . . .
She’d let Maggie see how well she had done for herself, without their friendship. She had made it right to the top of the social ladder: married a successful wealthy broker, had one gorgeous child and lived in a big house in Foxrock. She never admitted that she came from a not very posh suburb of Cork but always said West Cork instead. Oh yes! Marian Gilhooley Montclare had come a long way and she wanted to look her very best when she met Maggie MacNamara, or whatever she was called now.
‘Can we go and stay with Gran again soon?’ Mimi asked from the back of the car. ‘We had bwilliant fun.’ Maggie grinned to think she had been so worried about the children. She had phoned her mother’s twice from Adam’s to make sure everything was OK and that they weren’t pining.
‘If Gran doesn’t mind, of course you can, pet! Did you enjoy yourself, Michael?’ She addressed her son, who was guarding a plate of fresh homemade scones as if they were the Crown jewels.
‘Oh Mammy, it was brill. I helped Grandad to milk the cows. I wish we lived on a farm all the time.’
‘Mammy, I’ve a thong for you.’ Shona was not to be outdone. ‘I’m thpecial becauthe I’m thpecial,’ she sang in her little baby voice that made Maggie smile.
‘You’re special because you’re special. That’s a lovely song, Shona. Where did you learn that?’
‘It’s really a hymn, Mammy. She just doesn’t know all the words,’ Mimi explained as they drove through Redcross and past Johnson’s and Saint Mary’s and on to the main road. It was marvellous to see the kids again, Maggie reflected, as they started to sing the hymn Mimi was going on about. Honestly, you’d think she’d been gone a month rather than a day but when they had run out to greet her and smother her in hugs and kisses it was the greatest thing.
They were all singing the ‘special’ hymn as Maggie drove up to the mobile. There was much laughing and excitement as the children tumbled out of the car. Michael started doing his handstands on the grass and Shona had to be in on the act. Mimi, because she was wearing a dress, stood demurely at the veranda with her mother pretending to be all grown-up.
‘Anybody like to go to the beach?’ Maggie asked casually.
‘I would!’
‘I would!’
‘Me would!’
Thus shrieked the trio in turn and they galloped up the veranda steps to get into their togs. Maggie laughed as she walked up behind them. A little girl peered shyly around the corner of the mobile opposite and Maggie smiled at her. She appeared to be just a little older than Mimi and was dressed in a gorgeous frilly sundress with matching hat. Maggie smiled at her. ‘Hello.’
‘Alexandra, where are you?’ said someone with a rather posh accent and Maggie smiled to herself as she remembered Cathy’s title Lady Muck. Alexandra wasn’t your run-of-the-mill common-or-garden name either. A petite blonde woman came around the corner of her veranda.
‘Hi,’ Maggie gave a friendly smile, looking up from her bag, where she was rooting for her keys. It was something in the way the other woman was looking at her that made Maggie look again. Her brows drew together in a little puzzled frown. That face was terribly familiar from somewhere. She looked again. ‘Good Lord!’ she ejaculated. ‘It’s Marian. It’s Marian Gilhooley, isn’t it?’
‘Hello, Maggie,’ Marian said coolly and turned her attention to her daughter. ‘Darling, you know you’re not allowed on that side of the mobile, we have to respect others’ privacy. Come up to the veranda and play with Mummy.’ She smiled a vague uninterested smile in Maggie’s direction and then glided around to the main part of her veranda and out of sight.
Maggie stood with her jaw open.
‘Come on, Mammy! Are we going?’ Mimi danced up and down impatiently beside her.
‘Yes, sure. Come on inside quick and get ready.’ Had she imagined it or had she just seen Marian Gilhooley, friend of her schooldays. Get a load of that accent! When she knew Marian, she had had a lovely Cork lilt. Now there wasn’t a trace of it. It was pure South Dublin. It was hard to credit. And obviously, after all this time, Marian still did not wish to let go the past. Maggie shrugged. ‘Oh well, that’s her problem,’ she muttered as she organized swimming-togs, rings, buckets and spades and, as well, some biscuits, lemonade and banana sandwiches for a picnic tea. When she came back out to pack everything in the car there was no sign of Marian or her little girl.
Sitting on the beach, as the late-afternoon sun warmed her back and the children splashed happily at the edge of the sea, Maggie reflected on her recent encounter. Imagine meeting Marian Gilhooley again after all this time. It was such a small world. At the time when Marian had ended the friendship, Maggie had been devastated, because Marian had been like the sister she never had. But the old saying that time heals all wounds had proved true and Maggie, while regretting the loss of the friendship, had put the past behind her and got on with her life. She felt that she had made every effort at reconciliation but Marian had rebuffed her each time. Maggie, never one to hold a grudge, had ended up feeling sorry for the other girl and eventually she forgot all about her.
Now, meeting again, it didn’t surprise her that Marian was cold and unfriendly. She was obviously defensive and if she didn’t want to be friendly it was no skin off Maggie’s nose; she wasn’t going to force anything. The situation no longer bothered her. Marian had looked great though, with her sleek bobbed blonde hair and her obviously expensive designer gear. More power to her, Maggie reflected, as she turned her attention to Mimi who was covering her toes with a bucketful of sand. ‘Play with me, Mammy.’
‘Of course I will,’ she said, smiling and catching her daughter in her arms, and beginning to tickle her amid much squealing and laughter.
Several times during the week, she and Marian passed and greeted each other politely. Each time she saw her, Marian had a new outfit on and her make-up was always immaculate, her hair perfectly groomed. Her poor daughter was always dressed to the nines and Maggie felt sorry for the little girl that she wasn’t allowed to join in the rough-and-tumble with the rest of the kids.
She was sitting on her veranda the following Friday, doing the last of her revision, anxious to get as much done before Terry arrived for the weekend, when she heard Marian calling her name frantically. ‘Maggie, Maggie, quick! It’s Alexandra: she’s choking. I don’t know what to do. Maggie, help me!’
Maggie was out of her seat like a bullet, racing across the dividing lawn and up around to the other woman’s veranda. She could hear the great gasping whoops of the little girl as she fought to get air into her lungs. Her face was already turning blue. Maggie, recalling her nursing training, stood behind the child, put her arms around her diaphragm and applied the Heimlich manoeuvre. The obstruction lodged in the little girl’s throat shot out to the other side of the mobile and with tears streaming down her cheeks she gulped in great gasps of air.
‘Now, now you’re fine! There’s a good girl,’ Maggie soothed her. Doing the Heimlich on a child was dicey enough: there was always the danger of cracking a rib or two as their bones were so soft, but as she ran her hands expertly over the child’s ribcage, Maggie knew everything was all right.
Marian put her arms around her daughter and looked up at Maggie, her face as white as a sheet. ‘Thanks, Maggie. I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered and promptly burst into tears.
‘Stop that, Marian,’ Maggie said firmly, seeing that Alexandra was beginning to howl even louder at the sight of her mother in floods. ‘Come on! I’ll make you a cup of coffee.’ She knelt down to the little girl and said cheerfully, ‘Alexandra, would you like to come over to my mobile and see my little girl’s Little Mermaid doll?’ Alexandra stopped howling.
‘Yes, please,’ she said excitedly.
‘Is that OK with you?’ Maggie asked Marian calmly. For a moment their eyes met and then Marian dropped hers and nodded her head silently. ‘I’ll bring her over and make you a strong cup of coffee; a small drop of milk and no sugar if I remember rightly.’
‘You’ve a good memory,’ Marian said dryly.
‘Oh, it’s just that you were always the same as my mother with tea and coffee,’ Maggie said lightly and at the mention of Nelsie the other woman blushed under her make-up.
‘How is your mother?’ she asked awkwardly.
‘She’s well – ageing a bit, slowing down, but well, thank God. How are your parents?’ Maggie tried to be as matter-of-fact as possible. She knew Marian was feeling uncomfortable now that the drama was over and things were back to normal.
‘They’re . . . they’re good,’ Marian said tersely, and her tone had more than a hint of frost.
‘Look. Sit down, Mar, you’ve had a shock. I’ll bring Alexandra over to my place and I’ll be back in a jiffy,’ Maggie said briskly, taking the child by the hand and leading her out the door and down the steps of the veranda. It was quite obvious to Maggie that Marian was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. If Alexandra had not choked, Marian would have ignored her for the duration of her stay and they would have parted, probably never to see each other again. But now, Marian obviously felt she had to be civil at least and she wasn’t liking it much.
Maggie felt slightly angry. What was the big deal, for God’s sake? Couldn’t Marian for once in her life be adult about a situation and let bygones be bygones. She hadn’t changed a bit from when they were at school. Maybe she didn’t want her little girl playing with Maggie’s children, but the child had had a shock and the best thing for her was to forget about it as soon as possible by being distracted by something nice and normal. If she had stayed with her mother both of them would have ended up in hysterics. Although, as Maggie had to admit, Marian was usually very level-headed in a crisis, it was a different kettle of fish when your child was involved. As quickly as it had surged, her anger faded. If Marian wanted to be friends, fine; if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t cost Maggie any sleepless nights any longer. She had got over that years ago.
‘Look, Mimi, Michael, Shona, this is Alexandra, I’ve brought her over to play for a little while. Mimi, will you show Alexandra your Little Mermaid doll?’
Her three children stared at the newcomer. Alexandra, who was at least a year older than Mimi, put her thumb in her mouth and stood shyly, sucking it.
‘Mammy! she’s sucking her thumb an’ she’s bigger than me,’ Mimi exclaimed.
‘Mimi!’ Maggie glared at her elder daughter. Trust her. ‘Alexandra has no little brothers and sisters to play with so I want you to be nice to her and show her how well-behaved you are and how good you are at sharing. OK?’
‘OK, Mammy,’ chorused her offspring, as Mimi, in charge of the situation, took the little girl by the hand and led her over to the toy box.
‘Would you like to see my Likkle Mermaid doll?’
‘Yes please,’ Alexandra nodded, her ringlets dancing up and down.
‘You can play with Thomas the Tank Engine if you like,’ Michael offered generously and Maggie smiled to herself as she made the coffee. Kids were great: they had no side to them. Pity adults couldn’t be the same.
Marian was on her mobile phone when Maggie walked in with the coffee but as soon as she saw her she told the person at the other end that she would call them back later.
‘There’s no need to cut short your phone call, Marian, I’ll just give you your coffee and let you relax,’ she said.
‘Oh . . . oh, I was just calling Alex, my husband, to tell him what happened. I thought he might be able to come down tonight instead of tomorrow but he can’t. Business commitments and all that.’ There was a hint of bitterness in the other woman’s voice.
‘Oh, I know all about it. It’s a bit of a drag, isn’t it?’ Maggie sighed. ‘Although, miracle of miracles, Terry, my husband, is actually leaving work early to miss the traffic, I’m expecting him any time now. But to be honest, I’ll believe it when I see it.’
‘What does your husband do?’ Marian sipped her coffee and started to relax.
‘He’s a financial consultant,’ Maggie informed her.
Marian suddenly noticed that Maggie hadn’t got a cup of coffee herself. ‘Why aren’t you having coffee?’
‘Ah, I didn’t feel like it. I thought you might like to relax by yourself,’ Maggie said casually. They looked at each other. Marian swallowed and two bright spots highlighted her cheekbones. ‘Please sit down and have a cup of coffe
e with me, Maggie,’ she said but this time her gaze didn’t waver and the expression in her eyes reminded Maggie of the Marian she had once known and loved.
Maggie smiled, a broad melon-slice grin. ‘Thanks, Mar. I’d like that very much.’ In spite of herself, Marian grinned back and then they were hugging each other. All the years of estrangement slipped away and it was as if their silly row had never happened.
Twenty-Eight
‘I’m not putting Maggie up against Janet Stevens. She’d sink like a stone,’ Sandra Nolan said vehemently. She was sitting in the boardroom of Enterprise Publishing at the emergency meeting she called when she heard the news that was turning their publishing schedule upside down.
‘Why the hell is Janet Stevens coming out in October? The Americans always bring her out for the summer market – that’s why we held on to City Woman until October!’ Jeremy said irascibly. The news had made him very angry. He had great plans for City Woman, but Sandra, who was the best marketing person in the business, was right. There was no way a first-time author could be put head to head with an established and very popular author who sold millions.
‘Seemingly, Janet felt she should be getting a higher royalty after all the books she’s sold for Arthur Martin Publishing,’ said Sandra, ‘and even though she was half-way through the book, she refused to sign the contract. They thought it would just be a formality and they never thought she’d get stroppy. She’s usually so placid.’ Sandra was always up to the minute in publishing gossip.
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