‘Well, you were always able to pack a car, Terry,’ Maggie admitted.
‘One of my many attributes,’ he said modestly, and his wife laughed.
He closed the boot and locked it. ‘Is there anything else you want me to do?’
‘If there’s any post for me, will you send it on?’
‘Sure. Of course.’ He paused a little awkwardly. ‘Hey, listen. If you like, I could go down on Friday nights and you could come up to Dublin. It would give you a bit of time to yourself to do your bits and pieces and . . . ah . . . I suppose it would give you a chance to meet your chap.’ He was a bit surprised at himself for saying that, but fair was fair. Maggie had the kids seven days a week and he knew there was no way she’d ever meet the bloke in front of them. They had agreed that their respective lovers were not to be paraded in front of the children.
Maggie’s face flamed in the dark. ‘Thanks for the offer, Terry . . . but, actually, I’m not seeing Adam any more. I finished it,’ he heard her say quietly.
‘Oh! Oh, I see. Well, the offer still holds if you feel like a break.’
Maggie smiled at him. ‘That would be nice, I could meet the girls and have a gossip, and I know the kids would love to have you all to themselves.’ She caught his eye. ‘Won’t Ria mind?’
‘Kids come first,’ Terry said firmly. ‘By the way, Maggie, Mimi thinks I’m on night duty like Catherine’s da. It mollified her a bit. They’re too young to be explaining things to them, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah,’ Maggie sighed, ‘but we’ll have to tell them some time. Although we can explain things to them until we’re blue in the face. They won’t want explanations; they’ll just want us to be together.’
‘Let’s say nothing for the time being. Let’s give them a good holiday and see how it goes. Have you said anything to your ma and da?’ he asked.
Maggie shook her head. ‘No, I told only Devlin and Caroline.’
Terry had to laugh. ‘Well, that goes without saying!’ He’d never seen such close friends as the three of them were. He’d felt a right prat when Maggie showed him the card from Devlin that had accompanied the roses he had thought had come from her boyfriend.
‘Have you told your mother?’ Maggie asked.
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I just can’t bring myself to.’
Maggie sighed. ‘I know. I just don’t want to upset them. And it makes it seem all the more final when you actually say it to people.’
‘Will we leave it until after the holidays? I’ll stay here every few nights. Alone,’ he added quickly when he saw her face. ‘Just to keep an eye on the place. I don’t like it being empty. And when I’m down in Wicklow with you, we can visit your parents’ and pretend for the time being that everything is normal.’
‘OK,’ Maggie agreed, much to his surprise and relief.
‘Right! I’d better be off, then,’ he said with false cheerfulness. ‘Enjoy your time in Wicklow. You look whacked. Try and take it a bit easy. I know that’s all right for me to say – I don’t have the kids day and night. But I will come down and give you a break – that’s if it’s OK with you. I have a sleeping bag and I can bunk down on one of the settees.’
‘That would be much appreciated,’ Maggie answered. ‘And the kids will enjoy that; it will be good for them. I think it’s best that we try and be as normal as possible under the circumstances.’
‘Me too,’ Terry said, as he got into his car and waved at her. She waved back and watched him leave before going back into the house.
It was true what she’d said: telling people making it seem more final. Maybe he and Maggie weren’t behaving realistically, but at least they were talking and in agreement about not hurting the kids. That was something, and he knew he had Maggie to thank for it. She had made him see reason when he’d been ranting and raving at her after he moved out. Maggie was a very loyal woman, too. She’d never badmouth him in front of the kids, nor he her. And he knew she was terribly hurt that he had started up with Ria again. She had just as much excuse as he had for being bitter. Now that their anger had faded, they weren’t getting on too badly, considering everything. He couldn’t but be pleased that her affair was over. He was only human, he told himself, as he drove towards Mulligans of Poolbeg Street, where he had arranged to meet Ria and some of her friends for a drink.
To be honest, he was not in the humour for the pub. He’d come to realize that the yuppie lifestyle was not his scene any more. Parties and dinners in restaurants were all very nice occasionally, but not every night of the week. It was Friday night and the place would be packed. Who ever would have thought that the idea of staying at home to watch the Late Late Show in front of the fire would actually seem like paradise.
With a deep sigh, Terry began the hunt for a parking spot.
Forty-Four
A blackbird on a fir tree just feet away from her sang his heart out, and Maggie paused in her writing to sit back and savour the beauty all around her. Nestled in a deep hollow among the Wicklow hills, Johnson’s Caravan and Camping Park was a Shangri-La that was slowly spreading balm on her bruised and battered spirit. It was July, and the weather, which had been overcast and dull, had suddenly turned glorious. The skies were azure, the trees verdant. In the field behind her mobile home, cows placidly chewed the cud, and rabbits, scampering and scurrying along, were a source of constant delight to the children. They had settled down to the easygoing, almost unreal, way of holiday life, with the amazing facility children have for adapting to new places and new situations.
Maggie turned her head and watched her three offspring playing with some other children from neighbouring mobiles. When she first arrived at the end of May, the site had been very quiet as most of the other owners had schoolgoing children. At weekends the place would fill up and take on a holiday air, with the sound of children playing, and people cutting the grass on their own patches. The pool and playground would echo to the cries of carefree children and Terry, true to his word, and to the great joy of the children, had come down from Dublin as often as he could.
On Sunday evenings, cars would be packed and families would depart, and Maggie down in her little nook in the inner field would have the place to herself again. After the hurly-burly of the weekend the quiet of Monday mornings was bliss. Maggie found herself becoming much more relaxed as the days turned into weeks.
The first weekend that Terry had come down had been a bit awkward. It hadn’t been too bad when the children were still up. Excited at seeing their father, they had fought for the privilege of showing him around. He had been taken on a guided tour of the site and shown the playground and the pool and the shop and the games-room. And, most important of all, the den they had built out of grass and bushes over by the tennis-court.
After they went to bed, exhausted but happy that all was right in their little world, Terry and Maggie were alone together. Both felt awkward and uncomfortable and eventually Maggie said she was exhausted, retired to the double bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. It was strange knowing that Terry was outside, and she lay alone in the dark and cried unhappily. Adam was constantly in her thoughts. She had written to him, a long loving letter, explaining that she realized she had hurt him and that she understood his anger. She told him she loved him dearly and always would, but that it had been the best thing for everyone for them to end their relationship. She had heard nothing from him – another heartache to add to the others she was carrying. Knowing Terry was back with Ria had really angered and distressed her, but she’d been angry with herself for her resentment, calling herself a dog in the manger. She had told Terry their marriage was over, she had refused to end her affair with Adam when Terry had asked her, so it was totally unreasonable of her to be annoyed. Nevertheless, she really hated that woman.
Eventually, she heard Terry switch out the lights and get into his bed on the sofa. Only then did she sleep.
When he arrived, Terry asked her if she wanted to go up to Dublin, but Maggie decided a
gainst it. Dublin was the last place she wanted to be, and besides, it made the children very happy that they had both their parents’ company. So for the rest of the weekend, they had put on the best face they could, and concentrated on giving their children a good time. All the same, Maggie was relieved when Sunday evening came.
‘Will I come next weekend?’ Terry asked, as the children played outside on the grass. Maggie shrugged and told him it was up to himself.
‘I know it’s not very comfortable for us, but I’m just trying to do the right thing,’ he said a trifle forlornly, and she felt a pang of remorse. After all, the children were ecstatic when they saw their daddy. She couldn’t be thinking of herself all the time – and she did have her whole precious week to herself.
‘Well, we survived this weekend. I don’t see why we shouldn’t do OK next time,’ she said evenly.
‘Look, if you’d rather I didn’t come down, just say so, Maggie.’
For one moment she was tempted to say yes, she’d rather he stayed away from her and the kids and just left her in peace in her private paradise. But she thought of the children’s excitement when Terry’s Saab appeared over the crest of the hill, and she swallowed her resentment and said, as pleasantly as she could, ‘Come down by all means, Terry. The lads had a ball, and that’s the main thing.’
The following weekend was somewhat less tense. Maggie had to admit that Terry was trying to make things less awkward between them, and they actually sat out on the veranda after the kids went to bed on Friday night, chatting about inconsequential things over a bottle of red wine. They went to visit her parents on the Saturday. Her father and mother were looking forward to seeing their son-in-law. Maggie took the children up to the farm twice a week as it was only a ten-minute drive from the site, but it was Terry who had suggested that he pay a visit, in case they began to wonder why he hadn’t been to see them. They had acted out happy families perfectly, and Maggie had half-begun to think that all that had happened in the past few months was a bit of a dream. Reality hit her once again back in the mobile as she closed the door to her bedroom and heard her husband preparing his made-up bed on the sofa.
As June wore on more people began to come to the site to stay, and by mid-July most of the mobiles were occupied. Her immediate neighbours, Yvonne and Donald, had two lovely little girls, Fiona and Caitriona, who had become great pals with Mimi and Shona. There were three cousins of theirs two mobiles up, called Katherine, John and Jennifer. Michael and John had become bosom buddies and the eight children played happily together, much to the satisfaction of their respective mothers.
Maggie got on well with Yvonne and her sister Helen, and they settled into a pattern of taking all the children together to the pool, Brittas Bay or into Arklow or up to the playground in Redcross.
Because Shona and Caitriona were so close in age, Maggie and Yvonne often took them for a walk in their buggies while the older kids played on the site. Maggie enjoyed her walks. At first she and Yvonne had been puffing and panting as they pushed the buggies up and down the hilly, leafy roads. But gradually, their fitness returned, and they walked briskly along to the church of Saint Mary’s, which was set on a green patchwork hill about a mile from the caravan park. They would sit in the cool serenity of the pretty village church and enjoy the solitude for a few minutes before attempting the steep hill up to the post-office.
Maggie loved that old-fashioned post-office-cum-shop that sold everything – from school uniforms to Mr Kipling’s apple pies. Every nook and cranny was packed with goods, and the little shop was as well stocked as any department store. Needless to say, their offspring would demand a treat, and while the two little girls relished their chocolate Buttons Yvonne and Maggie would each eat a juicy peach and tell each other that they weren’t going to eat junk and that they were definitely losing weight. They would walk home by the back road, enjoying the scents and sounds and sights of the beautiful countryside.
At night, Helen would keep an eye on all the children while Maggie and Yvonne did a very fast walk to the church and back. Maggie got on well with Yvonne, a redhead like herself. She enjoyed the company and was delighted with the exercise and the chance to be free of the children for the half-hour or so it took them to do the walk.
The days took on their own routine. Maggie would get the children dressed and fed, do her housework very rapidly and then while the children played, she would sit on her veranda and write for a couple of hours. Then she would take them swimming in the pool. After lunch, if the day was fine, they would all pack into cars and head for the beach for the afternoon. After dinner and playtime, Maggie and her neighbour had their walk. Then she would bath the trio and by eight o’clock, there wouldn’t be a sound out of the Ryan mobile. Sometimes Yvonne and Helen would come over to her veranda, or she would sit with them, eating Pringles and peanuts and having a drink. Maggie was usually in bed by eleven. Occasionally she dropped in to Marian at her site on the coast, or Marian dropped over to her. Marian was still torturing herself over her inadvertent remarks at the dinner party, even though Maggie tried to convince her that Terry would have found out about Adam from someone else if not from her. In the end, she asked Marian not to refer to the matter any more. There was no use in crying over spilt milk.
At the weekends all the husbands would appear. Each family would do its own thing until the Monday, when it was usually just wives and children who stayed behind for the week.
It was a peaceful, easygoing existence, far different to the frenetic pace of her city life, and gradually Maggie found herself regaining some sense of equilibrium. Sitting on that lovely July morning, listening to the blackbird’s song, Maggie felt peace envelop her. Whatever happened to her, at least this mobile was hers, and she promised herself that, no matter what, she would bring her children to this glorious place every summer for as long as they wanted. Across the fields, she could make out the winding ribbon of road that led to Redcross. Tomorrow she would visit her parents, she decided.
Helen and Yvonne had offered to take the children to the beach for the afternoon so she could concentrate on finishing the final chapter of A Time to Decide. Maggie was very happy with her second novel. All that she had learned from Marcy during the editing of City Woman had stood her in good stead, and she felt it was a blooming great achievement that she had all but completed a second novel despite all the traumas of her personal life. City Woman was on schedule for a November launch and would be in the shops before Christmas. When she got home at the end of August she would be meeting with her publicist and sales and marketing director to plan the publicity itinerary. In spite of herself, she was becoming excited about it all again, and the great thing was that she’d have her second novel to follow very quickly on the heels of the first.
After waving the gang off, Maggie spent a couple of very fruitful hours, editing what she had written. She was deeply engrossed in her manuscript when she heard the sound of a car coming down the hill. It couldn’t be the lads back already, she thought in surprise, squinting against the sun. Then her heart leapt into her throat as she recognized Adam’s car.
Slowly she stood up, as his car drew to a halt. She watched him walk towards her with that panther-like lope that was such a part of him.
‘Hi,’ she said, unsure of what his reaction would be.
He threw his head back and looked up at her. ‘Hello, Maggie. Is it OK to come up and talk?’
‘Sure, come on.’
He took the steps on the veranda two at a time. ‘Where are your kids? I don’t want to make things awkward for you.’ He smiled that old familiar smile that made her suddenly ridiculously happy. She’d never thought she’d see him again; she’d thought their bitter parting would be her last memory of him. At least he had come to talk.
‘They’re at the beach for the afternoon. Come in,’ she invited.
‘I’m sorry, Maggie, I behaved like a shit.’ Adam met her gaze squarely. ‘That letter you sent me, I’ll always treasure it,’ he
said gently.
‘Oh Adam!’ Tears filled her eyes and she buried her face against his chest.
‘Don’t cry, Maggie. I can’t stand it when you cry,’ he murmured, holding her tightly.
‘I do love you, Adam,’ she sobbed. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I was thinking of my children.’
‘I know you were, I know,’ he soothed. ‘And you were right. I was angry and I was hurt but that didn’t last for long. I could never be angry with you for long, Maggie. You know that.’ He smiled down at her and brushed the tears gently from her cheeks with the back of his hand.
‘I’m going away, Maggie, I’ve signed another contract for the UK. I just wanted to come and apologize for the way I treated you. I want us to be friends.’
‘Oh yes, Adam, we’ll always be friends. Always,’ she said fiercely, hugging him to her tightly. ‘I’m so happy you came, I’ve reproached myself over and over for what I did to you. It killed me to think that we’d parted on such bad terms.’ She drew a long shuddering breath.
‘You have nothing to reproach yourself with, Maggie, my beautiful, generous, warmhearted Maggie.’ He lifted her face to his and kissed her very gently. ‘I’ll always think of my time with you as a wonderful, happy time with no cause for regret. I hope you’ll think the same . . . Promise me you will.’
‘I promise,’ she said softly, kissing him tenderly.
Shaken, he drew away. ‘I’m going to go now, Maggie. I think it’s best. I love you, I’ll always love you, I hope things go well for you, my love. I’ll pray that they do.’ He smiled at her, and she knew that as long as she lived she’d always carry the memory of Adam Dunne deep in her heart.
She watched him go and wept, a mixture of grief at his leaving and happiness that he had come back to her. Outside, the blackbird sang his song of joy. You have your children, she told herself over and over. You have your children and you have your career. Now get your ass in gear and finish that chapter and don’t let Adam down. The next time he sees your face it will be on the cover of a book. Just get out there and show him that you can do it.
City Woman Page 39
