City Woman

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by Patricia Scanlan


  It was just turning to dusk as they left the building and the sunset was breathtaking. The whole city was tinted red-gold and the sun, an enormous red orb, was sinking rapidly. It was so different from home: there was no twilight and in minutes, it was dark. The refreshing breeze that had been blowing seemed to die away in an instant and as they walked towards one of the main shopping areas of the city Caroline found the humidity intense.

  She was wearing a light silk blouse and a flowing cotton skirt but even with those light clothes, rivulets of perspiration ran down between her breasts and her hair stuck damply to her forehead. Caroline was amazed that Nell, who was dressed in a heavy Lacoste T-shirt and pale denim jeans, strode along briskly. It was clear that the heat didn’t bother her at all.

  ‘Don’t worry: you’ll get used to it,’ Nell assured her as Caroline blew a little breeze down the vee of her blouse. They walked until they came to a wide street full of shops and offices. Nell led the way into the marble foyer of the Novotel Centre Hotel and Caroline was immensely relieved at the cool of the air-conditioning.

  ‘I brought you here because it’s handy for work, the food is good and you can have snacks or a meal depending on what you fancy. This street is called Hamdan Street. There’s a lovely shopping mall just beside us called the Hamdan Centre. You might like to have a look around after we’ve eaten. I’ll take you to Salam Studio and Stores; it’s just across from BHS. They have a huge range of sunglasses, and they’ve lovely ones just in. You really do need a decent pair of shades here. The sun is so bright and we’re not used to it.’

  After they had ordered, Caroline sat back and relaxed. It was like being on holiday really, except that in a week’s time she would be on her own. It was a daunting thought, but at least she now knew her way from the office to Hamdan Street.

  ‘Will you have a glass of wine, Caroline?’ Nell enquired.

  ‘No. No thanks. Just iced water for me,’ Caroline said. ‘I don’t drink.’ She didn’t feel like announcing that she was a dried-out alcoholic. Some things were best kept to oneself.

  ‘Oh.’ Nell was surprised. ‘Pity. I was going to bring you to a ladies’ night before I go.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Caroline was intrigued.

  ‘All the big hotels have them,’ Nell explained. ‘The one in the Sheraton is in a bar called the Tavern – that’s on Sunday. The Zakher Tower one is on Mondays in The Ship. Harvester’s is in The Holiday Inn on Tuesday, The Meridian’s is on Tuesday as well and the Hilton has one on Wednesday in Hemingway’s. The ladies get two drinks free and you meet all sorts of people. It’s a night out if you’re in the mood. Of course if you don’t drink, there are soft drinks.’

  ‘It sounds interesting.’ Caroline wasn’t sure if it was exactly her scene.

  ‘At the beginning, it’s great – it’s a novelty. There’s so much going on in this city you could be out every night of the week at all sorts of functions.’ Nell popped a piece of bread-roll into her mouth. ‘When I came here first I was never in and I was permanently wrecked. So after the first six months I copped on and calmed down. To be honest, after a while you begin to realize that you’re seeing the same old faces, and you understand that you’re not on holidays: you’re working as at home and you start getting into a routine. But having said that, it’s still a great place to work and I don’t think I can ever see myself settling down at home again.’

  ‘Don’t you get lonely?’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Nell nodding. ‘I miss my family, and now and then I have a day or two when I get a tremendous bout of homesickness. But, Caroline, then I just go to the beach on my next day off, lie on a lounger and order a Pimms. Now imagine doing that at home. Or going on a weekend trip to the Buramini oasis or up to Dubai to do a bit of shopping or taking a dhow trip to an island in the middle of the Gulf. No, this is the life for me. It’s a bit unreal but I love it.’

  ‘You’ll be freezing when you go home,’ Caroline laughed, as she tucked into a huge fluffy omelette which was accompanied by the most colourful salad she had ever seen. ‘Winter came very early this year and it was bitterly cold when I was leaving.’

  ‘I know; I dread it,’ Nell moaned as she speared an olive. ‘Although I must say I’m getting a bit excited now and it will be great to be home for Christmas.’

  ‘You’ll be out of hospital by then?’ Caroline asked, a bit unsure if she should have mentioned the topic. Nell’s reason for going home was to have surgery and Caroline didn’t want to appear too nosy.

  ‘Oh, I’ll have had the first operation by then and I’ll go in for the second one some time in mid-January,’ Nell said cheerfully.

  ‘Oh, you poor thing! I didn’t realize you had to have two operations.’ Caroline was shocked, and very impressed at the other girl’s coolness about going under the knife.

  ‘It’s a real pain in the ass getting your bunions done,’ Nell sighed.

  ‘Bunions!’ Caroline’s jaw dropped. She had been imagining all kinds of operations, but never bunions.

  ‘I know. I’m mortified,’ Nell confessed, giggling, ‘but they’ve just been getting worse and worse and they are so painful. The specialist told me I should have them done or I’ll be in real trouble by the time I’m forty. I’ll be on crutches for weeks: he’ll do one foot first and then the other. So I decided to have it done at home. I’m going to buy a house while I’m there. I’ll have time to organize that too. And I’d like to spend some time with my parents. They’re getting on a bit and I’ve been gadding around the world since I left school.’ Nell looked enquiringly at Caroline. ‘And what made you come out here for six months? Or am I being nosy?’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘Of course not. My husband and I are separated . . . well, we’re going to divorce actually. You know, one of those foreign ones, seeing as there is no divorce at home.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I believe a man only has to say, “I divorce you” thrice in the Arab world and it has legal effect. Anyway, I just felt I needed to get away. And here I am.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Caroline: that’s tough,’ Nell said sympathetically.

  ‘It’s the best thing, really,’ Caroline said briskly. ‘My marriage was a disaster but at least we’ve come out of it friends. This is a whole new opportunity for me and I’m going to enjoy it.’

  ‘You will, Caroline! As I said earlier, life here is a bit unreal. It’s as if you leave all your problems behind you. You work, you shop, you socialize. You don’t have to worry about property, because you’re not allowed to own any. You have such a choice of material goods that shopping can become addictive. But it’s such fun! You meet your friends for as long as they’re here. It’s a very transient world and it’s exactly what you need at the moment. It will give you time to think, time to make plans and when you do go home you will have a very different perspective.’

  ‘Well, that’s what I’m hoping,’ Caroline replied, as she swallowed the last mouthful of omelette. Much refreshed by their meal and chat, the girls lingered a while for coffee and then Nell took her to the Salam Studios to buy her sunglasses. Earlier in the day Caroline had changed some traveller’s cheques into dirhams, the currency of the Emirate, and of course she had her credit card. Eager to do her first bit of shopping, she was overwhelmed by the choice of sunglasses: Cartier, Christian Dior, RayBans, Fabergé, YSL – all the labels at various prices, but far far cheaper than they would be at home. Nell made her try on a multitude and they had great fun before Caroline finally selected a classy pair of RayBans.

  ‘I’ll look like Jackie Onassis,’ giggled Caroline as she slid into the car beside Nell. They had decided to call it a day, as Caroline was beginning to wilt a bit.

  ‘They’re lovely on you, very sophisticated, very glamorous. Don’t worry – you’ll get a hell of a lot of wear out of them.’ Nell plonked herself in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Caroline sat gazing out at the lights and the sights of the city, fascinated by the men in the white thobes and the veiled women. Timid by nature, she
knew it was going to be a bit of an effort for her to explore this exotic city on her own, but explore it she would. She’d never have an opportunity like this again.

  They were walking up the stairs to their apartment when a tall blonde girl with the most striking green eyes passed them on the stairs. She was wearing a floral print dress with a fitted bodice, and a slim black jacket. She looked like a model.

  ‘Hiya, Féile,’ Nell saluted her. ‘You’re looking like the cat’s pyjamas! Where are you off to?’

  ‘Hi, Nell,’ the other girl said, and Caroline immediately recognized a familiar accent. ‘I’m going to the President’s dinner.’

  ‘Ah, yes, that’s on tonight. I tried to get tickets for it but I’d left it too late. They were all sold out. I thought Caroline might have enjoyed it. Féile, this is Caroline; Caroline, Féile Morris. She’s one of our neighbours.’

  ‘Hi, nice to meet you.’ The other girl gave Caroline a firm handshake and smiled broadly. ‘You don’t know how thrilled we are to be getting rid of this one for a while.’

  ‘Give over,’ said Nell with a grin.

  ‘I’m having a Coronation Street night tomorrow if you want to come. I got a video from home,’ Féile remarked. ‘Although you’re probably right up to date, Caroline, having just arrived.’

  ‘No I’m not, actually,’ Caroline laughed. ‘I missed all of last week’s because I was doing the rounds saying goodbye to people. I’d love to see it.’

  ‘Great, we always have a good night when the Coronation Street video arrives. A few of us get together and have a drink and a bit of a laugh. You’ll get to meet some of the girls and I’ll be able to tell you all about tonight. It’s usually a very good night and with Pat at the helm, no doubt it will be one of our best. Will you come with Nell?’

  ‘I’d enjoy that, thanks.’ Caroline accepted the invitation with delight.

  ‘See you tomorrow, then. I’d better rush. I’m late and you know when you really need one it seems like an age before you get a taxi.’ Féile glided down the stairs and out into the night.

  ‘Féile’s a pet. You’ll really like her. She’s a terrific neighbour and very kind too. She’s going to show you around a bit when I’m gone.’

  ‘Is she?’ Caroline was pleasantly surprised.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Nell said matter-of-factly, as she unlocked the door. ‘When I told her you were coming and that I’d only be here for a week, she volunteered. That’s Féile all over, softhearted. But she’s great fun, Caroline. You’ll have such crack with her. She’s famous for bargaining. She can keep the straightest face. I’m hopeless. I always get a fit of the giggles.’

  ‘What’s the President’s dinner she is going to?’ Caroline was intensely curious, and envious of the elegant young woman who had so confidently marched out into the night to hail a taxi in this exotic city that had all the brashness of the West and all the mystery of the East.

  ‘It’s the Irish club,’ Nell explained, drawing the curtains and putting on the kettle for some coffee. ‘You’ll have to become a member. It’s a terrific way to meet people from home and keep in touch, and it’s nice to go down on Tuesday nights and have a jar and join in the dancing if you want to. I like it very much although some people don’t bother with it at all.’

  ‘It sounds like a good idea to me. I never knew that there was such a thing here.’

  ‘Oh yes indeedy: the St Patrick’s Society of Abu Dhabi is one of the best associations here. I couldn’t get tickets to the dinner. They were snaffled up because the Irish events are so popular. I’ll bring you to next Tuesday’s meeting and introduce you to Pat Jawhary, the president. She’s hosting the dinner tonight. The ambassador will be there and a special guest from Ireland. Pat is very enthusiastic and very proud of being Irish. She’s really done a lot since she’s become president. I think she’s great; you’ll like her.’ Nell handed Caroline a mug of coffee.

  ‘I’m sure I will.’ Caroline was looking forward to meeting the woman Nell had spoken so glowingly about.

  As she lay in her bed reflecting on the events of the day Caroline felt much more optimistic about being on her own. So far she had met Féile Morris, her new neighbour. Caroline smiled in the dark as she thought of the blonde young woman. It was very strange, but somehow Féile reminded her of Devlin when she had first known her. A carefree happy-go-lucky Devlin before tragedy had taken its toll. Féile had the same confidence, the same sense of style as the young Devlin. A few weeks out here would do Devlin all the good in the world. Determination gripped her: if it was the last thing she did, she was going to get Devlin Delaney out here on a holiday. But she’d wait until she was accustomed to the place so that she could really show Devlin around and give her a good time.

  And even though she shrank a little at the thought of meeting a whole load of strangers, she would go to the Irish club with Nell on Tuesday night, and the following Tuesday when she was by herself she’d take a deep breath and go on her own. That would be one night of the week filled. No doubt the Irish club would hold other functions too. Well, she would go to them as well. She was determined not to be her usual shrinking violet self here. God knows, she had spent her life with Richard going to functions with the so-called cream of Dublin society. She had gone to galas and openings, launches and lunches, and hated them all, and had drunk to give herself courage. Well, not any more! In Abu Dhabi she was going to go to events on her terms because she actually wanted to go, not because she was Richard’s wife and had to go. It would take nerve. She would not be able to have a few vodkas beforehand to give herself Dutch courage.

  The thought of Nell and Féile, two young Irish women who had grabbed life by the horns and were shaking it for all they were worth, gave her courage. If they could do it, and hundreds more like them, the least she could do was give it a bash.

  Pat Jawhary sounded like an interesting woman. How long had she lived out here? Such a contrast in names, Pat, so Irish, Jawhary, so Arabic; Caroline was looking forward to meeting the president of the St Patrick’s Society of Abu Dhabi. Wait until she wrote to them at home and told them about it. They wouldn’t believe it. But it was nice to know that there was a place she could go to where Irish people gathered, and feel a little bit more at home in this fast-paced high-rise city. She fell asleep smiling.

  Thirty-Two

  ‘How do you do, Caroline?’ said a woman with a soft Kerry accent. ‘Welcome to the St Patrick’s Society and welcome to Abu Dhabi.’ Caroline found herself looking into the friendliest, kindest eyes she had ever seen. This was Pat Jawhary, the president of the Irish society. She was petite and very striking, with hair the colour of burnished copper and big blue eyes that sparkled with animation. Her accent was so rich and musical that Caroline could have listened to her speaking all night.

  ‘We’ll make sure you have a good time here; don’t worry,’ Pat said with a laugh. ‘Only the driest old stick going would fail to enjoy herself in this city. Isn’t that right, Nell?’ She winked at the other girl. Turning to Caroline, she fixed her with a blue-eyed gaze. ‘You will come next week now, won’t you?’ Pat said warmly. ‘Even though Nell won’t be here. Quite a few new people have arrived in the past few weeks and I want to make sure that everybody gets to know at least some people so they won’t feel lonely during their first few months. Anyway it’s nice to have a network of friends and acquaintances.’ Caroline felt instinctively that Pat was a person who cared about people. Nell had told her that she had been a midwife and Caroline, even on this short acquaintance, felt if she was ever to be in labour, she’d very much like a woman like Pat Jawhary to be delivering her baby.

  She had been a bit apprehensive about coming to the weekly Tuesday night meeting. A roomful of strangers had always intimidated Caroline. But having met Pat and a few other members, she realized she need not have worried. As she had discovered in the past few days, people were always delighted to meet someone from home, someone with news. Before she knew it, Pat and Nell had partnered her
with a cheerful engineer called Mike, for the Walls of Limerick.

  ‘I’m not very good at this,’ she confessed as the music started.

  ‘That makes two of us,’ said Mike with a grin, as he clumped around the floor like a young elephant. It was hilarious and also intriguing to watch olive-skinned men from a different culture taking part in Irish dances. Round they danced, laughing at missed steps, and breathless from the exercise, and when it was over they all retired, thirsty, to the bar.

  Sipping the Coke that Mike brought her, Caroline looked around at the laughing, chattering people and felt she could be in any bar at home. Except that it was much cosier than a pub. Comfortable chairs dotted the large room. Soft wall-lamps cast a comforting glow and a French window led to a tiled patio. It was the social club of the Corniche hospital and the Irish society used it on Tuesday nights. As she viewed the various groups of relaxed people, Caroline decided that she liked the easygoing atmosphere and thought happily that it wasn’t going to be an ordeal to come here once a week.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself, Caroline?’ she heard Pat ask as she pulled up a chair. ‘It’s such a pity you couldn’t have come to the President’s dinner: we had a marvellous time.’

  ‘Féile told us all about it,’ Caroline said smiling. ‘I believe there was dancing on the tables and everything.’

  ‘Oh that’s the sign of a great party in Abu Dhabi,’ Pat laughed, ‘but we’ll have lots more events that you’ll have to come to. We have a mince-pies and mulled-wine evening for Christmas and we’ll surely have a dhow trip or an outing to the desert before you go home next spring. You’ll enjoy it here, Caroline: Abu Dhabi is a very friendly place and I love seeing girls come out from home and have a ball.’

  Caroline wondered if she would ever achieve such an aura of self-confidence. They chatted over another drink. Pat told Caroline how she had been a midwife in the Rotunda, before going out to Saudi to work as a midwife and later as head of a department in a big American hospital. Afterwards she had come to Abu Dhabi with her husband, Akram, and little son, Eamonn. Caroline judged that Pat was only in her early thirties, but hearing all she had done in her life, she felt completely inadequate. All Caroline had ever done was to leave home and share a flat for a happy time with Devlin, before rushing into a marriage that had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life. And all because she had been so afraid of being left on the shelf! How stupid she had been! Looking at all these independent young women who were making their own choices, living the kind of lives they wanted to live, seeing the world, experiencing other cultures and throwing off the stifling mantle of insular thinking, she wanted to emulate them.

 

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