Authors: Patricia Scanlan
‘How’s your own career?’
‘I’m just going to concentrate on my writing and win as much independence as I can. That’s one of the reasons I bought this mobile with my last advance. This is mine;
it’s my bolthole. Nobody can annoy me here. And the only people I have here are the people I love dearly.’ She reached across the table and squeezed Devlin’s hand.
‘Actually, since I’ve bought this place I’ve perked up an awful lot. At the moment I’m quite happy. But what about you? Tell us all the news.’
‘News! Huh! I’d need a whole hour on Sky News to tell you all that’s going on,’ Devlin groaned. She sipped her tea and took a satisfying bite of fresh brown bread, topped
with rich yellow cheddar cheese. ‘All I can say is: Maggie, I’m totally exhausted. As you know, I haven’t had a minute to myself since before last Christmas, what with Arthur
having his heart attack, and Luke and I having to cancel our trip to Paris.’
‘That was unfortunate all right,’ Maggie sympathized.
‘Well, it just meant that we had to postpone the launch of the Belfast City Girl for a week. I had to spend a lot of time there, coordinating everything and getting all the publicity done
– and dealing with all the things Arthur would have been handling.’
‘So, is everything all right with Belfast now?’ Maggie asked.
‘It’s going great guns now; doing really well, thank God,’ Devlin exclaimed. ‘But I just don’t want ever to go through something like that again. The pressure was
incredible and I felt responsible because I’d sort of railroaded Luke into it.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ grinned Maggie. ‘
No-one
could railroad Luke Reilly.’
‘But you know what I mean,’ argued Devlin. ‘I was gung-ho to get Belfast going but really it was Arthur who was the driving force behind it all. He had all the contacts and he
had made all the publicity arrangements. When he had his heart attack I really felt totally lost, as you can understand. It was scary, I can tell you, trying to carry on where he left
off.’
‘But Arthur’s OK now, isn’t he?’ Maggie queried.
‘He’s fine, as good as new. You should see him. He’s a reformed character. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, walks six miles a day, has dropped three stone. He’s
sickening, so bloody smug. You know how I love chocolate. Well, I daren’t touch the stuff when he’s around or I get a lecture on my cholesterol levels.’
‘I had quite a few patients who had heart attacks who really changed their bad habits and developed a healthy lifestyle,’ Maggie reflected. ‘And they’ve never looked
back. The quality of their lives improved tremendously.’ Her preaching was spoiled by her spooning more sugar into her second cup of tea and devouring a Club Milk with indecent haste.
‘I see it hasn’t rubbed off on you,’ Devlin teased.
‘Give over!’ grinned her friend, passing the packet to her.
‘Arthur’s incredible, though,’ Devlin remarked, as she bit into the chocolate snack. ‘He had loads of energy before his attack, but you should see him now. I just
can’t keep up with him. He was very seriously ill for the first couple of days but he pulled out of it and fought his way back to health. He did everything he was told by his doctors and
dieticians and I raise my hat to him. Do you know what he thinks we should do next?’
‘What?’
‘Mr Arthur Kelly thinks we should open a . . . wait for it . . .’ said Devlin with a smile, ‘. . . a City
Man
.’
‘Good thinking,’ approved Maggie. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, I think it’s a great idea,’ laughed Devlin. ‘At least we’ll be able to refute the accusation that we’re sexist. But right now I’m up to my eyes
getting Galway organized, so it will have to wait. He’s going to look into financing and the like up in Belfast. But I just can’t get involved yet: we’re going too fast and
I’m barely able to keep up.’
‘You should be careful,’ Maggie warned. ‘You could get burnt out very easily.’
‘I know; I feel a bit whacked,’ Devlin sighed. ‘The last six months have been hectic.’ She quickly brightened. ‘And that’s why I came down here. And thanks
for asking Luke at the weekend, you’re a real pal, Mags.’
‘You mightn’t be saying that by the end of the week,’ Maggie laughed, as Shona raced through the door and launched herself at Devlin.
‘Manty Devlin, Manty Devlin, will you bwing me for a swing by mine own self?’
‘Everything is mine own self these days, as in ‘‘I can do it mine own self,’’ ’ Maggie explained.
‘Come on, then.’ Devlin lifted the toddler in her arms and held her close. Shona snuggled in tight and patted her on the shoulder.
‘I lub you, Manty Devlin.’
‘I love you, too.’ Devlin kissed the fine gold curls under her chin. ‘I’m off to the swings,’ she said to Maggie. ‘Expect me when you see me.’
‘This is the life, gang.’ Devlin stretched golden limbs out along her lounger and revelled in the heat of the sun.
‘It’s a bit like old times,’ Caroline remarked, as she lifted her head out of Deirdre Purcell’s blockbuster.
‘Old times!’ guffawed Maggie, as a gang of children danced and shrieked behind them in the great rolling dunes of Brittas Bay.
‘Ah, you know what I mean,’ said Caroline, who had arrived down from Dublin that morning and had lost no time in joining the relaxed holiday atmosphere that Maggie and Devlin had
already eagerly embraced.
‘It’s a long time, all the same,’ said Devlin reflectively, ‘since the three of us were away together. The weekend in Rosslare a year ago was our last little
holiday.’
‘It’s been some year – and there’s been some changes,’ Maggie said ruefully and rather ungrammatically for a writer.
‘Imagine,’ said Caroline, ‘the step I’ll be taking in less than four months. I wonder am I mad to have agreed to go?’
‘You’re
not
mad: it’s a fantastic opportunity and just what you need,’ Devlin retorted, gently flicking at a bee that was hovering over her left breast.
‘I’m really sorry I’ll miss your launch, though, Maggie,’ said Caroline regretfully.
‘Can’t be helped. You just go. Mind it won’t be the same not having the third musketeer there. If things had gone to plan, it might have been
my
novel you were reading
on the beach today.’
‘Your day will come,’ Devlin said comfortingly. ‘Lying on a beach, being warmed by the sun, and listening to the sea just has to be the most therapeutic thing in the world. I
feel so totally relaxed it’s incredible. It took me about two hours to wind down. I thought it would take me two days.’
‘It’s such a simple pleasure and simple pleasures are always the best,’ agreed Caroline, lashing on Nivea suntan milk.
‘Mammy, will you tell Shona to stop throwing sand: it’s getting in my eyes and it’s not fair.’ Mimi had galloped up, scattering sand all over them.
‘For God’s sake, Mimi!’ Maggie exclaimed in exasperation. ‘I’ve told you to be careful. Look at Auntie Caroline: she’s covered in sand.’
‘Sorry, Auntie Caroline.’ Mimi looked crestfallen.
‘Not to worry,’ Caroline said, dusting herself off. ‘It was an accident,’ she added kindly, giving the little girl a hug.
‘It was an accident!’ Mimi shot a triumphant look at her mother.
‘Tell Shona to come up here; and if there’s any more rows we’re all going home and we’re not having our picnic. OK?’
‘OK.’ Mimi threw her eyes up to heaven and went slithering back down the dune to get her sister.
‘Mammy wants you ’mediately, Shona, you’re in
big
trouble,’ they heard her tell her younger sister.
Shona came panting up to them, her little legs sinking into the fine sand. She was pouting. ‘ ’S not sair, Mammy, ’s not sair,’ she complained. Devlin and Caroline hid
their smiles behind their hands.
‘Were you throwing sand?’ Maggie asked sternly. Shona hung her head and stubbornly refused to answer. ‘If I catch anyone throwing sand I’ll get the wooden spoon! Do you
hear me, Shona?’
The toddler nodded.
‘Am going to play with Piona an Triona by mine own self, so I nam,’ she said defiantly as she trotted off down the hill in a huff.
‘Don’t throw sand,’ Maggie called after her.
She smiled at the amused Caroline. ‘You were saying something about simple pleasures . . .’
‘What the hell is wrong with your man there?’ Devlin sat up and glared at a clean-cut young man in his twenties who was peering in over the top of the windbreak.
‘You’d want to mind those nipples don’t get frostbite,’ he said hastily and took to his heels.
Devlin sat with her mouth open, not sure if she had heard right.
The three of them stood up and stared after the man as he darted through the dunes.
‘Pervert!’ shrieked Maggie. ‘God, wouldn’t they just sicken you! Isn’t that pathetic! What a way to get your kicks. You should see them on Sundays, out with their
binoculars pretending to be bird-watching. It’s disgusting. That kind of thing really bugs me: it’s so offensive to women and there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘We could have chased him and kicked him in the goolies,’ Devlin hissed.
‘He probably hasn’t
got
any goolies,’ Caroline snorted. ‘That’s why he’s sneaking up on women hoping for a free look. He’s probably a
eunuch.’
‘Well, if he comes back here, he’s in trouble,’ Maggie vowed. ‘When we were kids we used to cycle here by ourselves and my parents felt we were perfectly safe. I
wouldn’t let my kids out of my sight for a minute – here or anywhere else. Isn’t that an awful reflection on the society we’re living in,’ she added gloomily.
‘Oh come on, don’t let him spoil our day. What time is our picnic at? I’m starving!’ Devlin grinned.
‘You’ve only had your breakfast!’ Maggie exclaimed indignantly.
‘I know. It’s the fresh air,’ Devlin said unrepentantly.
‘You can have a bag of crisps.’
‘And a Club Milk?’ Devlin pleaded.
‘Don’t push your luck. Come on, let’s bring the lads for a swim,’ Maggie suggested.
There was great excitement when the children heard about this. As well as Maggie’s trio, they brought five pals from neighbouring mobiles. Michael and John, his new buddy, were studying a
crab shell intently. ‘Mind them claws,’ Michael warned, much to Devlin’s amusement. She overheard Fiona confiding in Mimi as they splashed around in the water, ‘This is the
best day of my life.’
‘Me too,’ agreed Mimi.
Shona was squealing with delight as Devlin dunked her in the waves. Devlin found herself thinking that, although she didn’t have Lynn, she was blessed with the love and affection lavished
on her by Maggie’s children. Caroline was right: the simple pleasures were best. Luke would be here at the weekend to share them, she thought happily, as Shona urged with delight: ‘Do
it aden! Do it aden!’
The picnic was a riot. It was all new to Devlin: she had never been on a picnic as a child. The beach had not been Lydia’s scene.
‘What is it about banana sandwiches and orange juice?’ said Maggie, grinning as she demolished a sandwich in two bites.
‘Oh no! I love the egg-and-onion ones.’ Caroline leaned across and helped herself to two more.
Devlin was engrossed in making the tea from the water she had boiled on the little kerosene stove, ably assisted by Michael and John. It tasted divine.
It was a weary but happy gang that trudged through the dunes towards the car-park quite a few hours later. They had had their picnic and then gone picking shells on the beach. Then they had had
another dip before playing a great game of rounders. At that, the three adults had said
enough
and returned to their loungers to recuperate.
‘Isn’t it great that they have picnic tables and everything here?’ Caroline remarked carrying Shona on one arm and a lounger on the other.
‘Oh, they do beautiful burgers and chips here,’ Maggie announced, towing a plastic canoe weighed down with beach-balls, swimming rings and wet towels and togs.
‘Burgers and chips?’ Devlin said. ‘Mmmm!’
‘Devlin, you’re incorrigible.’ Maggie couldn’t help but laugh.
‘We wouldn’t have to cook dinner then,’ Devlin retorted.
‘Who wants burger and chips?’ Maggie eyed the eight eager children.
‘Me!’
‘Me!’
‘Deadly!’
‘Yippee!’
‘Goody!’
‘Yes, please!’
‘Can I have sausages?’
‘Can I have some chips mine own self?’
Devlin guffawed. ‘I think the ayes have it.’
It was a very happy crew that tucked into burgers, sausages, onion-rings and deep-fried mushrooms. Devlin brewed up again and there was lots of licking of fingers and sippings of teas and
murmurs of great appreciation. The banquet was rounded off with a ‘99’ cone for everybody. No meal in a five-star restaurant could have tasted so good.
This is the perfect end to a perfect day, Devlin thought, as she sipped her Bacardi and Coke and, leaning back in her chair, smiled at her friends. They were sitting on
Maggie’s veranda, gazing at the panorama of countryside. All that could be heard in the deepening dusk was the sound of birdsong and the soft lowing of the cows in the adjacent fields. There
wasn’t a child to be seen. Maggie’s three were fast asleep in their beds, showered, ruddy-cheeked and exhausted after their day in the fresh air. ‘I never want to go back to
Dublin.’
‘Me neither,’ agreed Caroline. ‘Maggie, this is paradise.’
‘As near to as you’ll get,’ Maggie said, smiling. ‘I love the peace here. Digby and Marjorie really run this place well. I stayed in a park once where the kids used to be
out around shouting, screaming and kicking ball until all hours. That’s not allowed here. You never see a child out after eleven.’
‘I don’t think our gang would be able to stay up and play even if they wanted to,’ said Devlin. ‘Did you see them? They were asleep nearly as soon as they hit the
pillows? Shona fell asleep in the car coming home.’
‘It’s a great place for children,’ Caroline reflected. ‘They can play out in the open and you know they’re safe from traffic and strangers. I wouldn’t mind
having a place here myself if I am ever lucky enough to marry again and have children.’
‘There’s a waiting list,’ Maggie warned. ‘Marjorie and Digby are very particular about whom they allow to park a mobile here. I don’t think a pair of riff-raff like
you would be suitable at all.’