City Woman (2 page)

‘Is she indeed?’ Luke said coldly, his eyes like flints. So he could be fitted in only to a meeting at the airport. He was sorely tempted to get Dianne to call and say the venue did
not suit him. But that would be the height of childishness. Look what she had reduced him too. It was pathetic. Cop on to yourself, Reilly, he urged.

Dianne noted the expression on her employer’s face, glad that his ire was not directed at her. It was obvious Luke was miffed about something DD had said or done. This did not please
Dianne. His anger was too strong, too powerful. It meant that there was serious emotional involvement here.

‘Thank you, Dianne. That’s all for the moment,’ Luke said politely, his thoughts obviously miles away. That’s what you think, you gorgeous hunk, Dianne thought longingly
to herself, as she left the office as unobtrusively as she had entered it, leaving Luke staring out over London’s skyline, his mouth still a hard line of anger, his fingers drumming
impatiently on his desk.

Caroline

Caroline couldn’t quite decide what to do with the rest of her day off. She didn’t particularly want to go home to the penthouse in Clontarf. She had phoned Richard
at his office to tell him she was home safe and having coffee in City Girl but he hadn’t been there. He wasn’t in court either. His PA said he had just told her he was taking the rest
of the day off. That was most unusual behaviour for Richard. Caroline couldn’t remember her husband ever taking a day off from his thriving legal practice for no reason at all. She felt a
vague sense of unease. Well, he’s not seeing another woman, that’s for sure, she thought, a wry smile playing around the corners of her lips. It was strange how she had accepted his
homosexuality almost with relief. After the years of tormenting herself, of wondering what she was doing wrong, of knowing that no matter what she did her husband had no interest in her sexually,
realizing that she was not to blame had been a turning point in her life. She had stopped drinking, stopped taking Valium and started living again.

There were days that she felt quite shaky, times when she longed for a drink or a Valium to calm the fluttery feelings of fear, but on the whole she was managing well. And her relationship with
Richard was now so different. True, she had hated him when she found him in a loving embrace with his lover Charles Stokes – not because he was homosexual but because he had betrayed her,
made her live a lie and brought her to the edge of despair. That night had been the worst night of her life: she had told her husband she never wanted to lay eyes on him again and she had tried to
commit suicide.

But she had lived. She had been given time to think and eventually she had been able to forgive Richard. Now her husband and she had a much better relationship than they’d ever had before:
no more beatings, no more rows, he living his life, which included Charles, she living hers, which included no-one at the moment. Some day, Caroline promised herself, she was going to fall in love
like any normal person and have the children she had always wanted. It was her dream and she held on to it tightly. Of course she’d have to get a divorce and annulment first. It would have to
be one of those foreign divorces since you couldn’t get divorced in Ireland. But not right now. Things could go on as they were with she and Richard keeping up the pretence of marriage. It
was much easier to drift for the time being. ‘Typical,’ she told herself as she strolled down Grafton Street and had a look in Acquiesce to see what was new.

Caroline was notorious for putting things off. It was one of her worst faults. Devlin was always on at her about it. Devlin wouldn’t consider hanging around letting life pass her by. Just
looking at her in City Girl, observing the way she behaved as owner/manager of the club, really impressed Caroline. Devlin, who had once been so spoilt and pampered, had grown up and made something
of herself. She was a real career woman now with aims and ambitions. It would do Caroline good to emulate her friend. And what about Maggie getting her first novel published! What an achievement
that was! Maggie, too, was getting up off her butt and doing something.

Well, Caroline would just have to haul herself out of her little rut and do something about her own situation. The trip to Rosslare Harbour with the girls had been such a treat. Just being with
her two best friends, confiding and talking things through, had been a tonic. They had been so shocked when she had told them about Richard. Well, she’d had to tell someone. And Devlin and
Maggie were like sisters to her. She wouldn’t tell anyone else. No-one else needed to know. It was hers and Richard’s business but she had never kept anything from the girls, nor they
from her. Their friendship was a great bond that had seen them all through many trials and troubles. She thought of poor Devlin, standing at her baby daughter’s grave. Caroline knew she
wasn’t yet over the shock of Lynn’s death. Devlin was suppressing her grief, throwing herself into her business, not allowing Luke to get close to her. But that was Devlin, too
self-sufficient.

That’s a problem you’ll never suffer from, my girl, Caroline thought crossly. The trouble with her was that she couldn’t stand on her own two feet. Tomorrow she’d look at
the jobs section in the paper, she decided. She wanted to work full-time again. That would be one small step forward. Deciding that there was nothing that she particularly fancied in the boutique,
Caroline headed back to the car-park. On her way, she stopped at a phone and rang Richard’s office again. ‘I think he’s gone for the day, Mrs Yates,’ his PA said politely.
There was something up. Caroline just knew it. The best thing to do was to go home, she supposed. She wished Devlin and Maggie were in the car with her: they always gave her a sense of reassurance,
especially in the city traffic. Hands gripping the steering wheel of her brand-new Fiesta, Caroline edged her way timidly out of the car-park and into the fast flow of traffic around the Green.

Richard

Richard was glad the weekend was over. He had missed Caroline and the apartment seemed very empty and unwelcoming. It had been a lonely few days. Charles had gone to London the
previous Thursday and wasn’t due back until later that morning, so he hadn’t even been able to spend time with him.

All he’d done was take his mother shopping and listen to her moans. In the end, he was sorry he had ever mentioned the fact that Caroline had gone away with the girls for a few days. Sarah
had seized on the snippet of information and like a dog with a bone she had gone back to it over and over, stating her opinion that it was not proper for a wife to go away without her husband in
the company of female friends. It was just ‘not done’, and Caroline was behaving in a most selfish and unwifely manner, according to her mother-in-law.

If Caroline was unwifely, she’d been driven to it, Richard admitted ruefully as he put some Alpen in a bowl, poured milk on it, and sat down to eat his breakfast. His mother didn’t
know the half of it. No doubt if she did, she’d still find some way of blaming Caroline for everything. Sarah would have apoplexy if she ever found out about him and Charles.

Richard sighed. It was all such a mess – himself, Charles and Caroline – but after all the trauma of the past, at least the three of them were friends. He wished Charles was home;
he’d missed him these past few days. Something was not right with Charles. These past few weeks he had not been his usual cheerful self. And he was holding back from telling Richard
something, whatever it was. Well, he’d call him in an hour or so – he should be home from the airport by then – and arrange to meet him. Richard was determined to find out once
and for all what was the matter with his friend. Maybe later Caroline could meet them for lunch, if she was home from her trip to Rosslare.

Maggie

Maggie couldn’t resist slipping into Hughes & Hughes bookshop on her way to Dunnes foodhall where she wanted to buy a few groceries before going home. No doubt Terry
wouldn’t have remembered to get nappies and the like, and although she had done a big shop before she went away for the weekend there were some items you never had enough of. She loved this
cheerful bookshop with its elegant green fixtures and fittings. Since her novel had been accepted for publication, she couldn’t resist bookshops. Just think, in a few months her own novel
would be sitting on the bookshelves, looking as bright and glossy as any of those currently on display.

She studied the covers and titles of the newest bestsellers, approving this one, disliking that. Soon she’d be having discussions with her publishers about her own cover. A little frisson
ran through her veins. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Her own achievement, something that she had succeeded in, not as a wife, mother or daughter, but as a person
in her own right. Maggie Ryan. Author. And today had been the icing on the cake. This very morning, in the company of the greatest pals a woman could have, her novel had finally acquired a title.
From now on she would no longer call it the
novel
. From now on it would be called
City Woman
, the name Devlin had suggested.

Maggie felt like dancing a little jig in the bookshop, but managed to restrain herself. No doubt her husband, Terry, would have something sarcastic to say when he found out about her good news,
but that was his problem. In fact she was seriously considering not telling him for the time being. How she wished Adam was home so she could tell him. He would be so delighted and, after all, it
was thanks to Adam Dunne, in a way, that she had got this far. His guidance and encouragement had been just what she needed at that time when she had been at one of the lowest points in her life.
Smiling at the thought of his reaction, Maggie strode briskly out of Hughes & Hughes and on to Dunnes.

As she pushed the trolley between the shelves she thought of the nice fat cheque that she had deposited into her newly opened personal account. It was lovely to have money of her own again. Not
that Terry was mean. But to have money and know she had earned it herself was very satisfying. And she had great plans for it too. She popped a bottle of red Piat d’Or into her trolley. Terry
liked it so she’d cook him a nice dinner tonight and make a bit of a fuss of him for letting her have the weekend with Devlin and Caroline. Mind, knowing Terry, she’d be repaying the
favour for weeks to come.

The thought came unbidden to her mind and the old familiar anger flamed as she thought of how he had betrayed her with Ria Kirby when she was pregnant with their youngest child. Yes, minding the
children for a weekend was the very least he could do after carrying on an affair for God knows how long. Oh, how she hated that woman’s guts! That two-faced, conniving little bitch. Maggie
had never known she had it in her to feel such hatred, such anger. It frightened her. But for her children, she would have left him and never gone back. But she couldn’t break up the home and
take her twins away from their father. Whatever else he might be, Terry was a good father and provider. Mind, if her writing career took off she might very well end up being able to provide for
them all herself. Anyway, that was all water under the bridge now, she chided herself. Maggie thought of Adam. Could she do to Terry what he had done to her? As she paid for her shopping, Maggie
knew she was going to have to decide, and sooner rather than later.

Terry

Terry Ryan was working himself into a slow rage. It had been bad enough having to look after three kids for the weekend without this happening. Maggie was really something else,
swanning off with that other pair down to Wexford and leaving him with the lads. It was all right for Devlin and Caroline. Devlin was a free agent and Caroline had no children to look after but
Maggie had responsibilities and it was about time that she started taking them seriously. If it wasn’t gadding off with her friends, it was having her nose stuck in a typewriter writing her
great novel while the house turned into a shambles. Novel indeed, Terry snorted as he paced up and down. Let her write her novels when she had reared her children. Hadn’t his own mother, and
hers, had to rear their kids without any of this crap about having time for themselves and fulfilling their own needs. God knows, he slaved day and night to give them a good standard of living.

OK, he might not be earning as much as Richard Yates and no doubt Devlin would be a millionairess by the time she was thirty, the way she was going on. But Maggie wasn’t doing too badly.
They had a four-bedroom detached house in Castleknock. And in the posh part of Castleknock too! She had her own car, plenty of money for food and clothes, the fees for that blasted gym club of
Devlin’s. What more could she want? Wasn’t she ever satisfied? She was getting her own back, of course. Ever since she’d found out about that fling with Ria, Maggie had slowly
been turning the screw. First of all it was employing Josie, the child-minder, on Fridays so she could have ‘time for herself ’. Then she’d started attending some writers’
group or other one night a week. Was the woman ever home? She’d probably spent a fortune on the weekend, too. It was just a bit much. If she wasn’t careful he’d go off and start
seeing Ria again. He’d heard she was back in town. Not that he was vain or anything, but he knew he was still a pretty good-looking guy.

Now, Ria was a woman who understood a man’s needs. She knew how to pamper a man after his hard day’s work. Nice soothing massages, long lazy baths together. Good lusty sex. No
excuses about getting pregnant and moans about having some time to herself. Ria had always made a fuss of him, always appreciated the flowers and champagne and little bits of jewellery he’d
bought for her. It had been worth every penny he’d spent.

Well, whenever Maggie got home –
if
she ever got home – he was going to lay down the law. Because she hadn’t been there this morning when she was needed, he had to
take the morning off. Possibly the afternoon too if she didn’t get a move on. How was a man expected to run his accountancy business with this kind of carry-on? Well, he’d had it! She
could forget this writing crack and taking off for trips with the other two.