‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ he declared, and she knew that everything was going to be fine between them. She had made the right decision. They had spent hours discussing where they would live and how they would cope with their respective businesses. Devlin, who had been thinking about it the whole long flight back from Abu Dhabi, turned to him and said, ‘I’m going to ask Caroline to be the administrator of Dublin City Girl. I think she’d be perfect for the job. I trust her implicitly. I’ll be able to concentrate on the overall business plan and spend most of my time with my new husband.’
‘I’m marrying a genius,’ Luke exclaimed, as happy as she had ever seen him. They decided on the earliest possible wedding-date, much to Lydia’s dismay. Although Devlin would have preferred a small intimate wedding, she knew that Lydia would have been disappointed and so she let her have her way with the reception, the catering and the guest-list. Devlin didn’t care; all she knew was that she and Luke were getting married and she was the happiest girl in the world.
There was hardly a soul around as Luke left Devlin’s apartment and strode down the drive and out on to the main road in the direction of Howth. All that could be heard was birdsong and an occasional dog barking and the clink of bottles as the milkman made his early-morning deliveries. The air was fresh, the breeze salty, and Luke walked quickly, anxious to get closer to the sea. He loved to watch the sun sparkling on the water in the hours after sunrise. It brought back memories of his sea-going days. They had been carefree times with one responsibility only: to do his job well. It had been his own choice to come ashore and he had done well for himself, but occasionally there were times when he would give anything to feel the deck of a ship rolling under his feet, to watch the bow diving into the waves and up again and to taste the salt of the sea-spray on his lips.
Maybe some day he and Devlin would just take off and sail around the world. He smiled to himself. It was hard to believe that in a few hours’ time he would be a married man. It was even harder to believe that Devlin had asked him to marry her. He had to pinch himself sometimes to make sure it wasn’t one big dream.
It made it all the more special that she had asked him. It was the greatest proof that she really did need him. He knew Devlin loved him, but he had always thought that the relationship they were having suited her fine, leaving her plenty of time to develop her business, which was of paramount importance to her. He had longed to ask her to marry him but had never felt that she was ready to commit herself to that permanent relationship.
When she disembarked from that plane, tanned and glowing, eyes sparkling and happy, and asked him to marry her, you could have knocked him down with a feather. He would always remember the shock, the disbelief and then that great wave of joy that had engulfed him. He had never experienced such a sense of happiness before. Luke smiled at the memory as he turned on to the Bull Wall. Across the bay, he could see a cargo ship moving slowly down the Liffey. What a sight, he thought with pleasure, walking briskly along, enjoying the smell and sound of the sea as it slapped up against the rocks. He reached the statue of Our Lady just as the ship was passing the Poolbeg lighthouse and he paused to watch her as she steamed along at the beginning of her voyage. He was beginning a new voyage himself today, he thought happily, as he stood staring out to sea in the quiet solitude of an early Dublin morning.
‘Your boss is very kind to pay for our flights and hotel accommodation. Imagine him asking you to his wedding. He must think a lot of you.’ Dianne Westwood’s younger sister bubbled happily on as she sipped champagne in the first-class section of the Boeing 737 that was winging its way across the Irish Sea and bringing them to Dublin for Luke’s wedding.
Frankly, Dianne felt she was having a nightmare. When Luke came into work the morning after Devlin Delaney had arrived back in London from her holiday in Abu Dhabi, and told her that he was getting married, she had been stunned. How she had managed to utter the words of congratulations she would never know. But she had, and then she escaped to the sanctuary of her own office, and sat numbed and shocked. Twenty minutes later, she typed her letter of resignation. She couldn’t stay on, knowing that Luke was marrying Devlin.
She just couldn’t bring herself to give the letter to Luke that day, so she had slipped it into her drawer and gone home and bawled her eyes out. If she handed in her resignation she would never see him again. Could she bear that? After a long night of tossing and turning she had decided not to leave. The marriage would never last. She knew it wouldn’t. DD wasn’t the woman for Luke, and never would be. No, it would end in tears and when it did, he would turn to her, the one who had been at his side through thick and thin. Then Dianne would come into her own and he’d see her for what she was, his loyal, loving soulmate.
When he asked her to the wedding she said yes. It would have been churlish to refuse and he wouldn’t have understood her reasons. It would be the worst day of her life but she would carry it off. Dianne had no doubts about that. No-one could carry it off like she could. No-one had her style, her class and her complete professionalism. Luke had once called her the perfect PA. Some day he would call her his perfect woman, she vowed, as the plane circled and began its final approach to Dublin Airport.
Caroline stood humming under the shower, soaping herself all over. She still had her Abu Dhabi tan, she thought with satisfaction, and she was working diligently on keeping it up. It was hard to believe she was home almost three months now. Sometimes she thought her time in Abu Dhabi had been a magical dream. But it was incredible the way things had turned out. When Devlin told her she was going to marry Luke and offered her the position of administrator in City Girl, Caroline had been speechless. To walk into a job like that after spending six exciting months in a foreign country was too good to be true. Her luck was definitely turning, she firmly believed.
Richard had again asked her to consider their buying a place together, and once again she had refused. Her husband was a sad and lonely man and she pitied him, but she had to do what was right for her and she wanted to be free. She had written to the Marriage Tribunal only the week before, to ask them to set a date for her and Richard’s psychological assessment. She was determined to make a new start and if Richard couldn’t cope with it, that was not her problem.
She dried herself and smoothed Johnson’s Baby Lotion on her silky skin. After the wedding was over she would really focus her mind on buying a place for herself. She was renting an apartment on the old Ballymun Road and while it suited her for the time being, especially while she was busy getting to grips with her new job in City Girl, she wanted a place of her own.
She was really enjoying the job. Having done the stint in Belfast and with her six months’ experience in Abu Dhabi, she was confident that she could do the job of administrator. It certainly made up for her sadness at leaving Abu Dhabi and all the friends she had made there. After the holiday of a lifetime with Féile and the gang, she had come back to Abu Dhabi and faced the marathon task of packing all she had bought there, as well as what she had originally brought with her. With her silk paintings, her Chinese screens and Oriental rugs, Caroline was dying to have a place of her own to decorate.
Bill had thrown a hooley for her the night before she left and Nell, who had by then arrived back, minus her bunions, said, with satisfaction, ‘Well, it’s obvious you settled in and made plenty of friends. I knew you’d have a ball.’ In true Abu Dhabi style, it had ended with dancing on the tables and then she had been presented with the most exquisite gold charm bracelet that had taken her breath away, and a card signed by everyone she knew. Caroline was so touched that she cried, and she cried again at the airport when she said goodbye to Bill and Nell and Féile and Pat and Mike, who had all come to see her off. They were friends she would have for ever and there was an open invitation for her to come on holiday whenever she wished. Caroline knew it was an offer she would be availing of.
Devlin and Maggie had met her at the airport, and Devlin was bubbling with excitement as she told Caroline of
her wedding plans. When she asked her to work at City Girl, Caroline couldn’t believe it.
‘Well, believe it – it’s true,’ Caroline hummed gaily as she let herself out of her apartment. She’d better get a move on, she reflected, as she got into her brand-new Honda Civic and headed in the direction of Foxrock.
He really didn’t want to go to the wedding. Devlin had never been one of his favourite people and she had asked him to go only because of Caroline, Richard thought glumly, as he drank his early-morning coffee and stared out over Bullock Harbour. He had bought a penthouse there, as he liked the view very much. It was lonely being on his own. He had hoped that when Caroline came back from Abu Dhabi she might consider moving back in with him. Just because they were getting an annulment and divorce didn’t mean they couldn’t live together like flatmates. He was surprised when she had refused his offer. In fact, he had been totally surprised by the Caroline who had met him several days after her arrival home from the Levant.
She was glowing and healthy, full of self-confidence and much more outgoing. It was hard for Richard to accept that this together woman was the same timid, shy, insecure girl he had married. He was glad for her. He envied her. And if he was absolutely truthful, he resented the fact that she no longer seemed to need him at all. That was hard to bear. Still, he would have to get over it.
Charles would not be pleased if he saw him moping around. But he missed his companion so much. They had grown closer than Richard had ever believed possible. There were no emotional barriers of any sort between them by the time Charles died and those empty months after his death had been the most traumatic period of his life.
His mother had urged him to come and live with her. ‘Now we can get back to normal,’ she said. ‘That Caroline is in foreign places and won’t be back to trouble us. Some day you’ll find the wife you deserve.’
‘Mother,’ he said quietly, ‘I’ve told you. I’m homosexual. I’m not interested in finding another wife.’ Charles had urged him to be proud of what he was. Well, he wasn’t going to go shouting it from the rooftops; he’d never be able to do that. But he was never going to deny himself again, he swore.
Sarah had been furious and disgusted and told him that until he stopped talking in that dreadful manner, she wanted nothing more to do with him.
‘That’s entirely up to you, Mother,’ Richard replied calmly and walked out of the large red-brick Victorian house that had always been a prison to him. Sarah hadn’t spoken to him since then; his secretary acted as go-between on business matters. Richard didn’t care any longer. He’d been loved unconditionally by the one person who mattered, and if people couldn’t take him as he was, that was their problem. He was lonely, though. He had been out of the social scene in Dublin for so long it was hard to get back in to it. Maybe he would go to the wedding after all. He didn’t need to spend much time with Devlin; he would just kiss the bride and wish her luck. But he liked Terry, Maggie’s husband, and he’d enjoy being with Caroline for the day.
Yes, he’d go to the wedding and enjoy himself. Charles would want that.
‘I want to make a new will,’ Sarah Yates instructed the solicitor seated at the desk in front of her. ‘I want to leave every single penny I possess to the Church.’
‘Come on, Mimi. Eat up your breakfast or we’ll be late,’ Maggie urged her elder daughter as she fed Shona her cornflakes.
‘I can feed mine own self,’ Shona protested. ‘I’m a big girl.’
‘I know . . . I know,’ soothed her mother, catching a dribble of milk expertly with the spoon. ‘But we’ve got to hurry up to get to the hairdresser because you’re going to get lovely flowers in your hair for the wedding.’
‘I’d say I’ll look like a pwincess,’ Mimi said dreamily, as she tried to follow a puzzle on the back of the cornflakes packet.
‘I’d say so too. Now, hurry upstairs and get your pyjamas off so I can give you a quick bath.’
‘I’ve had mine, Mammy.’ Michael appeared at the kitchen door, wrapped in a towel. ‘Daddy gave it to me.’
Thank you, Terry, Maggie thought approvingly. ‘Good boy, just get into your clean T-shirt and shorts and then we’ll all be changing our clothes over at Auntie Devlin’s.’
‘Being a pageboy is very important, isn’t it?’ he asked solemnly.
‘Oh very,’ she assured him. ‘That’s why Auntie Devlin picked you – because she knew she could depend on you. Now, run up and get dressed so that we won’t be late.’
‘OK, Mammy.’
With a glad heart, Maggie watched her little son trip jauntily out of the room. She had been so worried about his behaviour the previous year. Of course it had happened because of her and Terry’s separation; Michael idolized his father.
Absentmindedly, Maggie ate what was left of Shona’s cornflakes. Devlin was getting married today and she had such expectations. Maggie had once been a bride like that, and then it had all gone wrong. Now she expected nothing, so anything she got was a bonus.
To be fair, Terry was a much better husband and partner since his return. When she asked him to come home on the night of the launch, he had agreed with alacrity, and, she suspected, with relief. She had been so busy on the publicity trail that she hadn’t had a minute to talk to him for the next couple of weeks, but he had taken time off work and looked after the children – she had to give him his due.
They had sat down one night and thrashed everything out, absolutely everything. That had been a very healing experience. She told him of her resentment and her unhappiness at his attitude to her career and his treatment of her, and he, in turn, told her how he felt. It had not been pleasant but each had come from the encounter with a new respect for the other’s feelings, and they were united in the conviction that getting back together was the best thing for their children. The change in the youngsters had been miraculous. Mimi had reverted to her old, cheery, impudent self and Michael had eventually stopped bedwetting and was losing his tendency to cling to his father every second. Shona, who was a bit young to understand, seemed to have suffered least.
All in all, Maggie decided, the best thing to do was to be positive. Her novel was selling very well and she had got terrific media coverage. She was frequently asked to address writers’ groups or to attend launches and promotions. All this was new and exciting for her. The back-up from her publishers had been wonderful and they were now cosseting her through the rewrites of her second novel. A Time to Decide was due out in the autumn.
Maggie now employed Josie on a daily basis. The income from her writing gave her freedom, so that she was able to write every day in peace and without feeling guilty, knowing that the children and the house were not being neglected and that there would be an evening meal on the table for Terry. The pressure to meet her deadline was enough, without feeling guilty as well.
Terry and she still slept in separate rooms. She supposed the time would come when they would sleep together again. Maggie wasn’t crazy about leading a celibate life, and she knew that Terry definitely wasn’t, either, and there were times she longed for a nice kiss and a cuddle. She missed the intimacy of her marriage. Maybe it would return in time. It was best to let things take their course, she decided, as Mimi appeared at the kitchen door covered from head to toe in talc. She was accompanied by Shona, wide-eyed as she tried to explain to her mother that what had happened to her elder sister was an accident.
‘I was trying to make myself smell nice for the wedding and it all came out ’cos the top came off,’ the little girl sobbed.
‘Don’t cry, Mimi, I lub you.’ Shona embraced her sister and was herself enveloped in a cloud of talc.
Maggie hugged her elder daughter tightly. ‘It’s all right, love. I’ll give you a bath now and fix you up. Sure it was an accident. Not to worry.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Little Sir Echo comfortingly at her side and Maggie smiled down into Shona’s big blue eyes.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we’ll all have a bath and get o
urselves ready for Auntie Devlin’s wedding.’ Squeals of pleasure greeted this pronouncement as Maggie led the way upstairs.
What on earth had Mimi been doing? Terry stared in horror at the floor of her bedroom. He had heard her running, crying, downstairs to Maggie, and come out to see what the problem was. All he had to do was follow the trail of little white footprints. There was talcum powder all over the place. Maggie would freak. He got down on his hands and knees and scooped back as much as he could into the round container.
Michael appeared at his side. ‘Women!’ he said conspiratorially, rolling his eyes dramatically. ‘The mess they make.’
Terry had to laugh. ‘You can say that again, son,’ he replied, as he went downstairs to get the hoover.
He wondered what the wedding would be like today. He was glad for Devlin. He liked and admired his wife’s best friend and another thing that he appreciated about her was the way she had not stopped talking to him when their marriage was in trouble. She hadn’t taken sides, although naturally she had been very supportive of Maggie. He hoped her own marriage would be a happy one, because, when all was said and done, there was nothing to beat a happy marriage.
His had been happy until he’d had an affair with Ria, and for that he took full responsibility. Then the tit-for-tat started, Maggie with Adam, him going back to Ria. It had made neither of them happy. Living alone in that mews had been the very worst time of his life. He missed his kids so badly. He hated looking after himself and wondering what to have for his dinner and, more than anything, he hated being in that house on his own, especially late at night. The loneliness of it had nearly killed him, and when he thought of all he had given up – his home, his children and his good wife – he cursed aloud. Because Maggie had been a good wife, even when she was writing that book of hers. The children always came first. The house was clean, if sometimes untidy because of the children – he could never fault her for that. This new arrangement of hers with Josie was working well. It was great that her royalties allowed her to pay Josie, and more power to her. He hadn’t realized what a big thing this writing career was going to be and it gave him a great thrill when people asked him if he was married to the novelist Maggie Ryan.
City Woman Page 49
