City Girl (47 page)

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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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‘It won’t hurt you,’ grinned Maggie as they trooped into the gym and took up their positions.

‘Morning, ladies. Let’s all prepare to live long and prosper by getting our bodies into shape. If our bodies are well, our minds will be well and we can face anything we have to. Let
us begin.’ Janet’s musical voice floated down the floor as she began the warm up exercises. ‘Shoulders back and down and back and down . . . ’ The girls got down to
work.

An hour later, glowing and invigorated, they sat at a window table of the restaurant that overlooked Stephen’s Green, tucking into muesli, fresh fruit, croissants and coffee.

‘Now!’ demanded Devlin.

Maggie gave a huge grin. ‘The novel’s being published.’

‘MAGGIE!’ The other two shrieked with pleasure, delighted for their friend.

‘Look,’ she said proudly, showing them a cheque.

‘Two thousand five hundred pounds!’ Caroline read in awe.

‘It’s my advance,’ bubbled Maggie. ‘It came this morning. Isn’t it a hoot?’

‘Does Adam know?’ Devlin asked excitedly.

Maggie shook her head. ‘It all happened so fast and he’s been in London for the past month. He’s due home next week and I just can’t wait to show him this and the
contract I signed. I got a copy of it with my cheque this morning.’

‘You kept this all to yourself. How could you?’ Devlin remonstrated smiling.

Maggie laughed. ‘I know, I know. It was so hard, but I wanted to make sure everything was signed, sealed and delivered before I said anything, just in case . . . ’

‘How did you go about getting accepted so quickly?’ Caroline asked curiously. ‘I thought it was a long slow process.’

‘I was just lucky,’ Maggie said modestly. ‘Remember when I didn’t win the competition and I was pissed off?’ The other two nodded, agog. ‘Well, Adam gave me
this directory with all the names and addresses of the Irish publishers and then I took Terry Prone’s advice in
Write And Get Paid For It
and sent one of them a sample chapter. Two
days later I got a phone call from an editor who said she’d love to read the manuscript. So I delivered it to her. A week later they contacted me, said they loved it and it was going to be a
bestseller and it’s being published next spring. I signed the contract last week. I just can’t believe it.’

‘It sure is going to be a bestseller, I hope they realize how lucky they are getting you as an author. You’ve a half dozen books inside that head of yours! You’ll make a
fortune. Ria Kirby turn green and puke,’ Devlin laughed.

Caroline chuckled. ‘Just wait until everybody recognizes themselves – then there’ll be wigs on the green!’

They all guffawed. When the excitement had died down their talk turned towards arrangements for the weekend. ‘I was thinking,’ murmured Caroline casually, ‘that I could drive
us down.’

‘WHAT!’ exclaimed her two friends.

‘I said,’ repeated Caroline calmly, ‘how about coming down in my car?’

‘But you haven’t got a car. You can’t drive,’ Maggie said, confused.

‘Oh yes I have! And I can!’ Caroline grinned proudly. ‘I passed my test last week and Richard bought me the most gorgeous little Fiesta. I collected it from Des
D’Arcy’s in Donabate yesterday. Oh girls you should see it!’ Caroline enthused. ‘I’ve called her Bluebell! I didn’t tell you because I wanted to give you a
surprise.’

‘Aw Caroline!’ said Devlin leaning over and hugging her friend.

‘You’ve certainly surprised us. Congratulations! We’d love to go to the Harbour in your . . . in Bluebell. Wouldn’t we Maggie?’

‘I couldn’t think of anything nicer,’ agreed Maggie, delighted by the glow of pride in her friend’s eyes. Imagine Richard buying Caroline a car! Things seemed to be much
better between them in the last few months. Since Caro had received treatment for her drinking she was a different person and she had much more confidence in herself. It was great that she had
started to work again too. It would give her a sense of independence.

‘I’ve nothing exciting to surprise you with,’ Devlin remarked ruefully. And then remembered. ‘Well, I might have something nice to tell you later.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Maggie curiously.

‘Oh, just something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. I’ll tell you when we get to the Harbour.’ Then she excused herself. ‘Have to rush. I’ve just
seen Mary and Julie with their camera equipment. They’re going to shoot the new brochure.’


That
will cost you,’ Caroline replied knowingly. The two girls ran the most exclusive photographic agency in Dublin.

‘Nothing but the best,’ Devlin said cheerfully. ‘See you later.’

‘Ya sure will baby,’ Maggie assured her. ‘Come on, Caro. Let’s move it or we’ll never get to Rosslare!’

Four hours later they were moving at a sedate forty miles an hour along the wide Dublin-Wexford road in Caroline’s brand new baby blue Ford Fiesta. They were just a few miles from Arklow,
where they planned to stop for lunch. Caroline, proud as punch but just a trifle apprehensive, sat up straight, hands gripping the wheel, tongue between teeth as she prepared to overtake a tractor
ahead of her.

‘You’re doing fine,’ Devlin said encouragingly as her friend put her foot down on the accelerator.

‘Wowie!’ hollered Maggie as they flashed past the ancient farmer.

‘Stirling Moss, look to your laurels,’ put in Devlin and they all guffawed. It was a journey of light-hearted laughter and anticipation and by the time they finished a delicious
lunch they were all relaxed completely, the pressures of city life entirely forgotten.

‘Do you think we should have a “Sin Bag”?’ Devlin asked with a gleam in her eye as they came out of the restaurant. They grinned at each other and without hesitation
marched into the first sweet shop they came to and bought all round them.

‘If Janet could see us now,’ Caroline said happily, helping herself to a bullseye.

‘Now, we’re not going to put on half a stone like we did on the Shannon!’ Maggie said warningly.

‘No,’ said Devlin, cheeks bulging with Turkish Delight. ‘We’re going to put on a stone!’

They all giggled uproariously, delighted to be in each other’s company on the weekend they had looked forward to for so long.

The sun was still high in the sky when they reached Devlin’s farmhouse and at her urgings they changed rapidly into bikinis and ran down the wooden steps leading to the beach at the foot
of the cliff. They plunged into the white foamy surf, letting the sea caress and soothe them, stretching limbs that were cramped after the journey. Later, they lay on loungers on Devlin’s
secluded patio as the sun warmed them and they began to go gently brown. Eventually the only sound to be heard was that of the humming bees as they fed from the honeysuckle and hibiscus and the
skylarks trilling their happy song and the soft slow breathing of the three friends as they snoozed in unashamed pleasure in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

That night, Devlin took them to a restaurant in Carne, The Bakehouse, where they dined magnificently. Devlin knew the proprietress, Marie, an attractive young woman, who had taken over the
restaurant when it was nothing but a shambles, and turned it into a beautiful eatery. The three girls sat in a lamplit secluded alcove with a view of the small picturesque harbour, watching the sun
set, its rays painting the sea until sky and sea were a blaze of pink and gold.

They dined like kings on seafood cocktail that contained chunky portions of a variety of shellfish and was almost a meal in itself. This was followed by a melt-in-the-mouth stuffed wild sea bass
in an exquisite sauce, of Marie’s own invention. The accompanying vegetables, crisp, crunchy and perfectly cooked, were an added delight. It was touch and go as to whether they would be able
to eat any dessert, but when the dessert trolley arrived, and they saw the selection of truly mouthwatering confections, they got their second wind, and added another few pounds to their hips. It
was a superb meal and they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

It was all hours before they got to bed as they sat up talking for ages. It was an evening of shared confidences and renewed closeness between them as they told each other the most intimate
secrets of their lives.

Devlin confided that she had taken her pride and thrown it out the window in order to ring Lydia after years of estrangement. They planned to meet the following week. It was a start.

‘I’m glad, Dev,’ Caroline said, hugging her friend. ‘Your dad will be so pleased.’

‘I know he will,’ Devlin said thoughtfully. ‘I think Mum is too. She was crying on the phone. She hasn’t really had much of a life, I suppose, and I think she feels
terribly guilty about Lynn and Kate.’ She smiled at her friends. ‘Luke will be glad too. He’s always on at me about it.’

‘He’s a lovely man,’ said Maggie softly.

‘Yes he is. I love him dearly.’

Maggie told them that she planned to have her tubes tied. Three children and two frightful pregnancies were enough for her and besides she was practically certain that her relationship with Adam
would develop into an affair.

‘I love Terry in my own way, I suppose, but he destroyed my trust with his affair with Ria, and Adam gives me so much more encouragement and support about my writing. He’s a man in a
million and I’m going to make the most of him.’

‘You’re right!’ said Caroline firmly.

To a reaction of shocked silence she told her two friends about Richard’s homosexuality.

‘Jesus, Caroline!’ exclaimed Devlin. ‘Why didn’t you tell us before now?’

‘I couldn’t, Dev, until now,’ Caroline replied simply.

‘Are you going to stay with him?’ Maggie asked quietly.

Caroline smiled. ‘For the present. You see, he needs me.’

‘And what about your needs? You actually told him to go ahead and resume his affair with Charles!’ Devlin said incredulously. She didn’t condemn Richard for being homosexual,
but she despised him for marrying Caroline to cover it up.

‘It doesn’t bother me, Devlin. They really love each other and Charles is a very kind and supportive person, so why should I stand in the way of their happiness. I was as much to
blame as Richard, I should never have married him. I ignored all the signs and deluded myself that everything would be fine when I was married. I married for the sake of getting married and look
where it got me. Believe me, Dev, I’m happy enough the way I am for the moment. I’ve conquered my dependencies. I’m standing on my own two feet at last. My time for happiness with
a man will come. Who knows I might take a figarie and fly to Seville and contact Ramon again!’ she said wickedly. She had told them about her night of debauchery in London.

Maggie laughed. ‘I wouldn’t mind an introduction to him myself! Maybe when I’m researching my next novel!’

‘You’ve enough for a novel here,’ Devlin remarked as she got up to make yet another pot of tea.

‘Now, that’s an idea,’ Maggie was intrigued.

The next morning they woke to the pitter patter of rain on the window panes. ‘Oh goody,’ murmured Devlin from the depths of her bed, ‘I won’t have to feel guilty about
not getting up!’ They had a lovely lie in, reading, snoozing, and chatting, and then they had a Cruiser Brunch and went for a walk along the rainwashed beach. Later in the afternoon Caroline
drove them to the cemetery and they stood close together at Lynn’s and Kate’s grave. Devlin was crying softly. The sadness passed and the sun came out, and they went back to the
farmhouse and sunbathed.

That night, Devlin told them she was bringing them out on the town. There was only one shower and one hairdryer in the farmhouse so their preparations took a little longer than usual. Devlin was
having her shower last, and when she came into Caroline’s and Maggie’s bedroom, she saw with some surprise that they were still in their underwear and both fast asleep. Devlin grinned.
It was the sea air. It had that effect on everyone. Just as well she was used to it! She’d leave them until she dried her hair. It didn’t take long to dry the soft silky curtain of
blond hair. She looked at her watch, ten o’ clock. Things would only be getting lively! Devlin gave a stifled yawn. She’d wake the girls in a minute . . .

She woke up at five past one, and didn’t know where she was. Hazy memory came back. She walked into the girls’ room. The two of them were snoring gently. ‘Get into bed,’
she ordered sleepily, pushing Caro beneath the covers of her bed, and unable to get a stir out of Maggie, she covered her with a quilt.

‘Oh the shame of it!’ Maggie’s eyes twinkled as they sat over breakfast the next morning. ‘Are we getting past it or what? For God’s sake don’t ever tell
anyone about last night, I’ve a reputation to live up to!’

That night, they did make it out. Dressed up to the nines they went out to dinner. It was the last night of the most relaxing, fulfilling weekend they had spent in their many years together. The
bond between them had grown even stronger. They all knew they would never be alone and that they were secure in the knowledge of their friendship. As they watched another beautiful sunset from the
elegant dining room of the cliff-top hotel, Devlin raised her glass in toast. ‘To the most important thing that anyone, rich or poor, can possess. And that we are richly blessed with.’
She smiled. ‘To friendship.’

Smiling back, Caroline and Maggie raised their glasses.

Patricia Scanlan

A Time for Friends

 

When are the boundaries of friendship pushed too far, and when is it time to stop flying over oceans for someone who wouldn’t jump over a puddle for you? There comes
a time when Hilary Hammond has to make that call.

 

Hilary and Colette O’Mahony have been friends since childhood, but when irrepressible Jonathan Harpur breezes into Hilary’s life and goes into business with
her, Colette is not best pleased.

 

After their first encounter Colette thinks he’s a ‘pushy upstart’ while he thinks she’s ‘a snobby little diva’. And so the battle lines
are drawn and Hilary is bang in the middle.

 

But as the years roll by and each of them is faced with difficult times and tough decisions, one thing is clear . . . to have a friend you must be a friend.

 

And that’s when Hilary discovers that sometimes your best friend can be your greatest enemy . . .

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