Authors: Patricia Scanlan
At first the girls in the office had taken her reserved shyness for aloofness and when she began to do well in sales there had been some jealousy, but gradually she settled down in her job and
they got used to her. Most of them were married and their talk centred around their homes, their husbands and in some cases their pregnancies. Caroline envied them enormously as she heard how
‘Hugh always brings me a cup of tea in the morning’ or that ‘Donald was so supportive during the birth’ or that ‘Paul and Dermot booked a surprise dinner for us at the
Shelbourne. Aren’t they pets?’ Why couldn’t she meet a Donald or Hugh or Paul or Dermot? She would observe these loving husbands and boyfriends collecting her self-assured
colleagues after work and feel like an outsider on the edge of a privileged circle. More and more she longed for someone to fall in love and marry her, to remove from her for ever the stigma of
spinsterhood. Seeing Devlin with men lining up to ask her out Caroline could not understand how her friend had not the slightest interest in marriage, while she, who was quite manless, longed with
all her heart for the day when she would walk up the aisle and say to the world: ‘I am loved . . . I am no longer alone!’ It seemed to Caroline that people expected her to marry. Her
father and brothers constantly dropped hints about her ‘getting over the hill’ and her aunt was in an agony of dismay over the fact that she was not yet sporting a diamond. Years later
she would look back at her own insecurity and realize that she had been her own worst enemy.
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 black 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.