City Lives (48 page)

‘Did you ever hear from the Al Shariffs?’ Caroline passed the gravy boat around.

‘Not a peep. I don’t know if they’re dead or alive or on the planet. I don’t know if they ever got divorced. I know nothing, nor do I care to,’ Maggie said
cheerfully.

‘Ciara Hanlon hasn’t been caught yet,’ Devlin said out of the blue.

‘You never escape the Law of the Universe, or Divine Justice if you care to call it that. Even though you might think you’ve got away with things,’ Caroline said.

Maggie threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘She’s off,’ she declared and they all laughed heartily, happy to be together catching up on all that was going on in their lives.

Devlin walked around her new house with an air of great anticipation. Everything was coming along nicely. All the walls were plastered, the new windows were in. Her
state-of-the-art pine kitchen was being installed today.

They’d decided on pine because it suited the character of the cottage. The utility room off the kitchen was tiled all over, ready for the washing-machine, tumble-dryer and chest freezer.
Upstairs in the new extension the huge master bedroom and
en suite
were ready for decoration. Three other new bedrooms had also been built on. She was trying to decide which one
she’d put the baby in when it was old enough to go into a room of its own.

‘Mind yourself there now, Mrs,’ one of the builders said anxiously as she stepped over a loose timber. They didn’t like to see her coming, Devlin knew. Not because they were
afraid that she would find fault with their work but because they were afraid that she’d have the baby any second. In the last two weeks she’d bloomed dramatically. The baby’s
head was engaged. She could go any time.

Devlin heartily wished that the whole ordeal was over. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to the birth. She’d had a hard time with Lynn and now that she was so much older she
worried constantly.

What if she gave birth to a handicapped child? How would she cope? Would she have the strength to deal with it? She’d confided these fears to Maggie, who’d assured her that every
mother had the exact same fears. Her friend urged her to try and put them out of her head.

The baby kicked lustily. It was a very active baby and she was glad of that. It reassured her that for the time being, as far as she knew, all was well.

Luke, although he did his best to hide it, was apprehensive. She knew he was worried that he wouldn’t do enough to help her on the day.

At her prenatal classes there’d been a big laugh from the expectant couples when the midwife had told the husbands under no circumstances were they to tell their wives or partners to
push.

Devlin had made him promise not to look at her lower regions.

‘Just look at my face, won’t you, Luke. I don’t want you to be turned off sex for life.’

She’d read an article that said that men who were at their baby’s birth were much slower in responding sexually to their wives afterwards than those who were absent.

‘I promise I’ll just look at your face. Whatever you want me to do, Devlin, I’ll do,’ he assured her earnestly. He’d arrived home from London two days ago with a
Winnie the Pooh wall chart, a set of Winnie the Pooh Babygros, and a gorgeous Winnie the Pooh teddy bear.

He couldn’t go into town without buying something for the baby, and eventually she had to put her foot down. His excitement was infectious and she was dying for the moment that he would
hold their child.

‘I’m off, Mr Fleming,’ she called out to the foreman, and hid a grin at the look of relief that crossed his face.

‘Take care now, Mrs Reilly. Maybe you should stay put now until the baby’s born and you’ll have a nice surprise then when the place is all ready for you,’ he suggested
delicately.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she agreed. There was no point in aggravating the poor unfortunate. In future she’d keep her visits until the evening when they were gone, when
she could look around in peace.

It was a warm day, one of those lovely early summery days that come in May, so she drove down to the harbour and went for a walk along Howth pier. It was nice to feel the breeze on her face. At
least her sciatic nerve had calmed down once the baby had shifted position. All in all, apart from the awful weariness in the first three months, and the drama of washing her teeth, she’d had
a very good pregnancy. But the pressure was intense now and she’d be glad when she had her figure back, she reflected as she watched a woman wheeling a toddler in a buggy.

She walked back along the top wall to enjoy the view of the sea. Midway, she felt a little tired so she sat down on one of the wooden seats in the shelter of the wall and viewed the peaceful
scene in front of her. Seagulls circled and dived into the glassy waters, a ship on the horizon glided past. It was strange to be a lady of leisure, keeping in touch with the office through fax and
phone.

She’d stopped going into work two weeks ago. It was important, her gynaecologist said, to rest and prepare physically and mentally for the birth. Devlin knew she was right.

The seat was a bit damp, she felt, so she shifted position, only to suddenly freeze in shock as a puddle of water formed at her feet.

‘Oh God, what a place for it to happen,’ she muttered, and then realized that it would have been a thousand times more mortifying if it had happened in front of all the builders.
Slowly, she made her way back along the pier, wondering if people could see the big wet stain on her maternity dress.

A calmness descended on her. This was it. There was nothing she could do. She was not in control any more. The baby and her body would have their way.

She was so calm, or rather so reluctant to go to the hospital, she made herself a cup of tea when she got home. The contractions had started, but it would be hours before anything happened, she
assured herself. After all, she was no novice. She’d given birth before.

She phoned Luke, who was on site in Ashbourne.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,’ he said frantically.

‘Lucky you,’ Devlin teased.

‘
Devlin!
This is no time for messing. You’re having a baby,’ he gabbled.

‘Yes, dear,’ she said soothingly.

‘Just sit down and don’t move,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll be home in a minute.’

‘Yes, pet,’ Devlin murmured, as she rinsed her cup and saucer and wiped down the counter tops. A contraction caught her by surprise and she gave a little gasp.

‘Are you all right? Are you all right?’ Luke was roaring down the phone.

‘Luke. Calm down. I’m fine. Now drive carefully. I don’t want to be widowed, thank you very much.’

‘Right, right. I’m on my way.’

He was ashen-faced when he got home. ‘Now stay calm,’ he urged. ‘I’ll get your case. Now where is it?’

‘Right here beside me on the sofa, dear,’ Devlin said calmly.

‘Oh! Oh! I didn’t see it.’ He grabbed the handle. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

‘Luke,’ Devlin reached up and took his face in her hands. ‘Please calm down. I’m fine. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, let’s enjoy it.’

‘I’m just worried, that’s all. I’d like to get you to the hospital.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m calm.’

‘Good,’ she said.

Five hours later the contractions were coming hot and heavy. Devlin groaned as the pain engulfed her and gripped Luke’s hand. ‘Did I say let’s enjoy it,’ she panted.
‘I was talking through my hat.’

‘You’re doing fine,’ he soothed. She looked up into his loving eyes and thought how different it all was this time. How wonderful it was to have his love and support.
Lynn’s birth had been such a sad, painful, lonely one.

‘I love you, Luke,’ she whispered.

‘Still?’ he whispered back as another contraction hit hard. They were much quicker than they’d been with Lynn and much stronger, nevertheless she was shocked when her midwife
said cheerfully, ‘Devlin, you’re nine centimetres dilated. You’re ready to deliver. Just push now when I tell you. Your gynae is on the way.’

‘So soon,’ Devlin panted.

‘Well, it is your second. It can happen like that, lucky girl, it will be all over soon.’

The birth itself was a blur, so intense was the pain. Even Luke seemed to fade from her as all her energies were concentrated on this last final effort. It was just her and the baby and her body
doing what it had been preparing for, for the last nine months.

‘It’s a boy, Devlin. It’s a boy.’ Luke was beside himself with excitement as he squeezed her hand so hard she thought he was going to crush it.

‘Is he all right? Is he all right?’ Devlin asked as her baby slithered out of her after one last push.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s got five fingers and five toes and a head.’ Luke was babbling.

‘He’s grand, Devlin, everything’s perfect.’ The midwife laughed as Devlin heard a lusty roar, and her son was placed in her arms minutes later.

Her heart felt as if it would burst as she looked down at the tiny face and felt the tiny hand grasp her little finger. He had a head of jet-black hair and a doty little nose and a perfect
mouth.

‘Oh Luke,’ she whispered. ‘Oh Luke, here, hold your son!’

Reverently Luke took the minute bundle and then Devlin did cry, so moved was she at the sight of her big strong husband cradling his firstborn with tears streaming down his face.

It was the most perfect moment of her life. It was incomparable.

Later, back in her room, they held each other tightly. In his small crib, their son slept peacefully.

‘This is almost the best day of my life,’ Luke said.

‘Why, what was the best?’ Devlin was surprised.

‘Don’t you know? The best day of my life was the day you told me you loved me for the first time.’ Luke kissed the tip of her nose.

‘Oh, Luke.’ Devlin could hardly speak.

‘Don’t start crying again,’ he warned.

‘I won’t.’ She gulped.

But she did cry again when Caroline and Maggie arrived the following day, Caroline having driven over from Galway specially to see her.

‘Oh girls! Oh girls!’ Devlin blubbered.

‘He’s beautiful.’ Maggie bawled. ‘And I was right. It was a boy,’ she added smugly, despite her tears.

‘Oh Devlin, he’s a dote,’ Caroline sniffled.

‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Luke in mock horror as he walked through the door right at that moment and saw the three weeping women.

‘Three of them at it. I can’t hack this. I surrender.’ They laughed.

‘Six hours in labour, you lucky wagon,’ Maggie said enviously. ‘I was ten with Shona.’

‘It felt like ten. It was tough at the end.’ Devlin grinned, relieved beyond measure that the whole ordeal was over. She was still on a high.

‘Luke, take a photo of the three of us, will you?’ she asked her proud, beaming husband.

It was a perfect photograph. Devlin held her baby with Caroline on one side of the bed and Maggie on the other, with their arms around her and melon-slice grins on all their faces.

It was the best of times.

THE END