City Girl

by Patricia Scanlan

  One evening Devlin persuaded her to go to an Opening Night at the Gaiety. Dressed stylishly in well-cut black trousers and a scarlet silk blouse that emphasized the slenderness of her figure, she was quite unaware that she was the object of scrutiny of a tawny-haired man. Nursing her drink at the interval, she waited for Devlin who had gone to the loo. Quietly Caroline observed the first-nighters, recognising many prominent faces as they crowded around the bar gossiping and airing their views. Dublin was such a sociable city, she mused. There was always something on or something to do! Who would have thought that she, ‘Nellie the Elephant’ of yore, would actually be sitting only feet away from a government minister and a TV personality, not to talk about a famous playwright, and a well known gossip columnist, who were all animatedly chatting and laughing and mingling self-confidently. A little glow spread through her as she caught sight of her reflection in a gilt edged mirror. Thin! She was thin and able to fit into size ten trousers with no trouble. It was the biggest triumph of her life and she thanked God for sending Devlin, her friend and mentor, to her. It was she who had got tickets for the show. Her parents were supposed to have gone but Lydia was unwell so her father had given her the tickets. ‘Drinking again!’ Devlin had confided with a deep sigh.

  ‘How nice to see you again!’ A deep voice spoke from above the region of her left ear, interrupting her reverie. Startled, Caroline looked up to find Richard Yates, hand extended, smiling down at her.

  ‘Oh hello,’ she murmured politely, thinking how dishy he looked in his smart navy suit. His hand clasp was firm and the unusual green eyes that surveyed her were warm and friendly.

  ‘Are you enjoying the revue? Bitingly topical wouldn’t you say?’

  Caroline laughed. ‘I’m glad I’m not a politician, the sketches are so pointed, but it’s going down well isn’t it?’

  ‘It certainly is,’ he agreed, smiling down into her brown eyes so big and expressive under her feather-cut hairstyle.

  ‘Have you settled in to the penthouse?’ she enquired lightly. Richard laughed.

  ‘I have. I must say you were right; it didn’t take long for you to sell all the apartments there. I think most of them are occupied.’

  Caroline nodded. ‘That’s right, they were practically sold out after only two weeks on the market. Developments as exclusive as that will always sell fast because they are aimed at people with plenty of money.’

  She couldn’t believe herself, carrying on a conversation with this charming handsome man. They chatted casually for several more minutes. He offered to buy her another drink but she refused the offer and he did not press it. Caroline noticed a tall distinguished man observing them from the bar but she paid no heed until two stunning looking girls came from the ladies and made a bee-line for Richard and he detached himself from the crowded bar and strode over to where she and Richard were standing.

  ‘Richard, I think it’s time we took our seats. The girls are here and I’m sure the curtain will be going up shortly.’ His tone was low, aristocratic, his eyes cold as they stared at Caroline.

  ‘Fine,’ said the younger man coolly and turning to Caroline he said pleasantly, ‘Won’t you excuse me. It’s been nice talking to you again.’ She watched the four of them stroll through the foyer, radiating an air of wealth and sophistication that made people turn and give them a second glance.

  ‘My God, that place was jam-packed!’ Devlin arrived back breathless and gulped down a large mouthful of her Black Velvet.

  ‘Oooh that’s nice!’ She was currently into Black Velvets, a mixture of rich creamy Guinness and champagne. Caroline sipped some of her less exotic Bacardi and coke.

  ‘Who was that dish you were chatting up?’

  Caroline blushed. ‘I wasn’t chatting him up Dev!’ she expostulated.

  ‘Ah go on!’ Devlin grinned.

  ‘I wasn’t. He’s the guy who bought the penthouse. His name is Richard Yates.’

  ‘I heard that name before,’ Devlin said reflectively, a small frown creasing her brow. ‘Oh yeah, he’s a big noise lawyer isn’t he? And he’s into politics. I heard Dad talking about him. Did you see who he was with? Mandy Mitchell and DeeDee O’Neill. They’re the highest paid models around. I wish I had their figures.’

  One thing about Devlin was that she wasn’t the slightest bit vain, Caroline thought in amusement, as she surveyed her friend’s curves which were every bit as good as the two models’. They joined the other patrons en route to their seats and although Caroline enjoyed the rest of the evening she was very conscious of Richard and his party several rows in front of her.

  A week later when she was sitting disconsolately in the office watching the rain dripping relentlessly from the branches of a large oak tree, her phone rang.

  ‘Hello, Caroline Stacey speaking. May I help you?’ she said with automatic politeness in her best office telephone manner.

  ‘Hello Caroline.’ A vaguely familiar voice sounded in her ear. Deep, cultured. Where had she heard it before? ‘It’s Richard Yates here, you’ve probably forgotten all about me.’

  Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Oh! Oh . . . not at all. How are you?’ she managed to respond.

  ‘Oh, I’m fine. And you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine too,’ she echoed inanely, wondering what on earth he was ringing her for.

  ‘The thing is,’ he said crisply, ‘I happen to have two tickets for the National Concert Hall. Bernadette Greevy is giving a recital. I was wondering if you would be interested in coming with me?’ He paused discreetly before adding, ‘Of course if you have a boyfriend who would object I quite understand.’

  Caroline swallowed hard. Twice. ‘Yes . . . No, I mean I would like to go,’ she stammered. ‘There is no-one on the scene at the moment to object.’ Managing to compose her voice she noticed that her palms were wet with perspiration and she was sure she had an attack of the blotches. Just as well he couldn’t see her! She thought she detected a note of relief in his voice as he said firmly:

  ‘I’ll certainly be looking forward to that. Shall I pick you up on Saturday evening then?’

  ‘Fine,’ Caroline agreed giving him the address. She’d have to make sure the flat was tidy, she thought as she gently replaced the receiver in its cradle, annoyed to find that her hands were shaking. How she longed for poise. Still, who could believe that Richard Yates had actually phoned her? Pity the reunion was over. A high-flying handsome solicitor was even more acceptable than a nuclear physicist!

  Devlin and Maggie, the girl who lived in the flat upstairs from them, were delighted with her news. Maggie, a nurse, was already living in the Sandymount house when the girls moved in and from the start she had made them welcome and been a good neighbour to them. Although she was several years older than Caroline and Devlin she was lively and vivacious and before long they started socializing together. Maggie, a tall athletic sexy redhead was the most natural down to earth person Caroline had ever met and yet there was a motherly quality about the older girl that drew Caroline to her. One Sunday evening, when Devlin was away for a weekend, Caroline had arrived back to the flat feeling lonely and upset. She had attended the annual blessing of the graves where her mother was buried and all the old sadness had come back to her as she stood at the graveside with her father and brothers. Maggie had met her on the stairs and seeing the distress on the younger girl’s face had asked her if everything was all right. Caroline, never good at hiding her emotions, assured her that everything was fine but Maggie, instinctively guessing that something had upset her, insisted that she come up to her flat for a cup of tea, whereupon Caroline had burst into tears and ended up confiding her woes to Maggie. The older girl had been most sympathetic and supportive and over the following months their friendship had developed. As well as Devlin, Caroline now had Maggie as a friend.

  ‘What will I wear?’ she asked the two other girls when she got home from work that evening.

  ‘If I were you,’ said Maggie reflectively, ‘I’d wear a little bla
ck number with just a touch of gold at the throat. Elegant but subtle.’

  ‘I don’t have a touch of gold, Maggie!’ wailed Caroline.

  ‘Don’t panic!’ her friend soothed. ‘You can have something of mine. Now what do you think of this for a honeymoon negligee?’ Holding up a black silky wisp of nightgown, she laughed at the expression on the faces of her two friends.

  ‘Do you think this will get Terry going?’ Seeing Caroline blushing she reproved her lightly. ‘Now Caro, stop blushing. It won’t be long until this Richard guy will be pressing his attention on you, so you’d better be prepared. Men are all the same, girl, and always will be.’

  Caroline couldn’t help but envy Maggie, who had no sexual hangups whatsoever and had been sleeping with her fiancé for over a year. Sometimes she shocked Caroline with her frankness. Maggie was the kind of person who didn’t give a hoot about what other people thought of her. Either you liked her as she was or you didn’t like her. Most people couldn’t help liking her and men flocked to her like moths to the flame, attracted by her generous open personality.

  Maggie did a little twirl with her black wisp and grinned at her friends. ‘Must be off, I’m meeting Ma-in-law for dinner. Yuck! Yuck! She calls me “Margaret” for crying out loud! I think I’ll put on me real Howya Dublin accent.’ A sharp ring on the doorbell caused her face to fall. ‘Jeepers, is it that time already! Terry’ll kill me. Devlin, go and use your charm on him until I’m dressed. Caro, anything you need for your date, feel free to borrow. I’ll see you both later.’ Striding out of the room, her thick auburn hair flowing gloriously behind her, Maggie looked like an advert for a health magazine. There was a sensuality and earthiness about her that was completely unfeigned, something Caroline wished she had a little of. All she wanted out of life was one man to appreciate her charms. Maybe Richard was the answer to her prayers. Knowing that Saint Jude was the patron saint of hopeless cases she decided she would do a novena to him.

  The next day during lunch hour she slipped into the Pro-Cathedral and earnestly begged the saint’s help in securing a husband. Preferably someone as handsome as Richard. She had done the novena for a week and somehow in the massive vaulted cathedral, always crowded with lunchtime prayers like herself, old Dublin women murmuring their rosaries, their beads slipping silently through careworn fingers, old winos snoring quietly and men and women just sitting lost in thought, Caroline felt her prayer would be heard. When Richard Yates rang her again to confirm their date, she felt it was an omen, a sign from God!

  By the night of her Big Date she was a nervous wreck. Knowing that Devlin’s mother sometimes took Valium, Caroline begged Devlin to sneak her one. ‘Just this once, Dev, please. I don’t want to be a babbling idiot for the evening and he’s so self-assured.’

  Devlin hadn’t been at all happy about the idea but she had given her friend the Valium, knowing how much this date meant to her. If only she could make Caroline realize how attractive she was now, compared to that awful dumpy silent person she had been. Caroline still went to her Unislim classes, even though she had long ago reached her target weight and was now so slim and so small-boned as to appear almost fragile. She ate very sensibly, loads of salads and fruit, and having received her target weight certificate and been loudly cheered by the other summers, she remained even more determined to keep her figure. Now she had an added reason to remain slender. Richard!

  When she was giving Caroline the Valium, Devlin insisted, ‘They’re only crutches Caro, you don’t need them.’ But Caroline wanted so badly to make an impression on this date, she needed to be relaxed. She promised Devlin she would never ask her for one again.

  The three of them had gone in to town on the Saturday morning to buy The Dress. It had been a gloriously sunny day and Grafton Street was buzzing and vibrant. They had a giggly fun-filled few hours trying on and discarding dozens of outfits before deciding on a black jersey silk with ruched waist and a deep plunging V-back. It was demure in the front and highly sensual at the back and Caroline loved it. Sheer black tights, some sexy underwear, high heeled patent shoes and an elegant clutch bag completed the spending spree and then it was time to get her hair done before rushing home to get dressed up.

  When Caroline was dressed, Maggie arrived with a gold chain and matching earrings and the total effect was one of subtle elegance.

  ‘Much better than those two tarty models,’ commented Devlin approvingly, as she brushed on some toning gold eyeshadow over the darker brown undercoat. When she mascaraed them her friend’s eyes looked deep and enormously mysterious, almost Eastern. She laughed: ‘It’s a pity I’m not a man, I could almost ravish you myself,’ she remarked, surveying her handiwork.

  ‘I wonder will he kiss me? I wonder will my lipstick come off on his face?’ Caroline murmured agitatedly.

  Now that she was actually ready, she almost wished that she wasn’t going. Honestly she couldn’t understand herself. For years she had been praying for something like this to happen and look at her, a bag of nerves.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Caro, take the Valium and relax, just let things happen as they happen,’ Devlin advised her. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that Caroline was two years older than her with a college degree to boot.

  Half an hour later the door bell shrilled. By this time the Valium had taken effect and Caroline noticed that her anxiety had been noticeably blunted. Now she felt quite tranquil. Really! she thought, these things are pretty good! She felt a little tingle of anticipation as she opened the door to find Richard, looking very suave holding a rose and a box of chocolates which he presented to her with a smile. Slightly flustered, Caroline made the introductions and Richard made some polite small-talk to the girls and then they were on their way. Maybe she was being extra sensitive, she told herself, but somehow she sensed that Devlin hadn’t taken to Richard. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself, as he held the door for her and she eased herself into the front seat of his snazzy BMW.

  Caroline sat in the luxurious front seat observing Richard’s hands on the steering wheel, so clean, his nails manicured perfectly. What a change from some of the dirty-nailed fingers of various men of her acquaintance, most notably her father who always managed to have an accumulation of chalk dust under his nails. They drove along sedately and Richard began to talk on a variety of subjects. Because she read the papers and listened to the news and had a quick mind when it was not clogged up by shyness, Caroline found herself responding to him. He was going out of his way to make her feel comfortable and gradually she began to relax. She thoroughly enjoyed the recital in the Concert Hall, the purity of Bernadette Greevy’s voice, the soaring notes invading her spirit, uplifting her. She hardly noticed Richard yawning discreetly behind his programme as his eyes roved the audience in search of familiar faces.

  Later they mingled with several of his acquaintances and friends and she was introduced to a district justice, a barrister and a gynaecologist with a double-barrelled name whom she recognized with a slight sense of shock as Devlin’s employer. Accompanying him was his charming and very glamorous wife. After a few moments of light chat Richard then took her arm and presented her to a well-known politician. Richard seemed to know an awful lot of people, she reflected a little breathlessly, as he steered her through various groups. It was obvious that he was well known himself and also that he was a very ambitious young man. Why on earth had he decided to ask her out? Fortunately the preconcert drinks they had sipped in O’Dwyer’s, and her genuine enjoyment of the recital, had relaxed her and she did not dwell on the notion.

  They had their photographs taken for one of the social and personal columns of a newspaper and then they were driving off to Caspar and Guimbini’s for a meal which she could hardly eat because she was so happy. When he left her home he said easily: ‘May I see you again? I had such an enjoyable evening.’

  Caroline nodded, eyes aglow, and he told her he would ring. To her relief, yet disappointment, he did not kiss her on the lips but took
her hand and gently kissed her fingers. She stood almost spellbound on the steps as she watched him drive away and knew without doubt that she had never been so exquisitely happy. Then she floated upstairs to where Devlin was waiting patiently as she herself had so often waited, to hear all the gory details. Patting the bed Devlin said lightly, ‘Quick! I want to hear everything and don’t leave one iota out.’

  The next day they rushed out to buy the evening paper and there in all her glory was ‘Caroline Stacey accompanied by well-known legal eagle Richard Yates at a recital in the National Concert Hall.’

  ‘Ruth, eat your horrible heart out,’ Caroline sang. This was compensation indeed for all those dreadful tormented years of the past. In black and white for everyone to see: Ruth, her aunt, her next door neighbour. At long long last she had a boyfriend.

  Eight

  From their first date on, Caroline’s life changed utterly. Richard took her out regularly, sometimes three or four times a week, and it seemed as though her life had become one long round of eating, dancing and socializing. Timmermans, Buck Whaley’s, Legs, Suesey Street, The Pink Elephant, the list was endless. Although she developed a certain outward poise, there were times her insides quivered like jelly and she wished she was a hundred miles away from the ritzy set with which Richard associated. Now she was the one envied by her colleagues as they listened to her accounts of where he had taken her the previous night.

  Yet she and Richard never seemed to be alone and although Caroline understood the need for him to keep a high profile for business sake, she longed secretly for him to take her on some long romantic walks around Howth or Killiney where they could watch a sunset and be alone, just the two of them with no friends or acquaintances to intrude upon them. She would chide herself for such ungrateful thoughts because to her he was unfailingly charming, presenting her with flowers and chocolates despite her protestations. Yet Caroline wondered would she ever get to know the real Richard, the private Richard. All she knew was the social Richard.