City Woman (32 page)

Almost as a reflex action, Marian got up from her lounger and retired to the privacy of her mobile to come to terms with the shock. She hoped she was mistaken, until she saw Maggie running down
the veranda steps in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Then she knew without a doubt that like a bad penny she had returned to her life. It was not a pleasant thought; in fact it was most unsettling.
How she was going to handle their inevitable encounter she had no idea. And they would surely meet unless she stayed skulking in the mobile for the duration of the holiday. She wondered what
Maggie’s husband was like and what he did for a living. Obviously he wasn’t as successful as her own husband, Alex, Marian thought with satisfaction. After all her former friend was
only driving a Starlet; she herself drove a Volvo. The dress had looked expensive undeniably; with shorts and a T-shirt you couldn’t tell. But then Maggie had never been a great one for
clothes.

Marian always liked to start from a position of superiority and she felt fairly certain that Alex and she were one of the most affluent couples on the site, if not indeed
the
most
affluent. That thought cheered her up somewhat and she walked into her bedroom and flung open her wardrobe. Time to change. What would she wear that would look glam but casual? What would make a
good
statement
, as they said on fashion TV? She scanned the rows of clothes on the racks and drew out an outfit that caught her eye. It consisted of mint-green and blue tie-dyed Lycra
leggings and matching fitted gauntlet top, worn under a mint-green silk chiffon overshirt. She’d got it in Pia Bang just before she came down to Wicklow. It was ideal, though perhaps she
would not wear the overshirt. It might be just a bit OTT in the middle of the afternoon; she wanted to make a statement – not a newsflash! Marian smiled wryly. She had never thought
she’d end up wanting to impress Maggie, the one person she had always been able to be herself with. But now after all that had happened between them . . .

She’d let Maggie see how well she had done for herself, without their friendship. She had made it right to the top of the social ladder: married a successful wealthy broker, had one
gorgeous child and lived in a big house in Foxrock. She never admitted that she came from a not very posh suburb of Cork but always said West Cork instead. Oh yes! Marian Gilhooley Montclare had
come a long way and she wanted to look her very best when she met Maggie MacNamara, or whatever she was called now.

‘Can we go and stay with Gran again soon?’ Mimi asked from the back of the car. ‘We had bwilliant fun.’ Maggie grinned to think she had been so worried
about the children. She had phoned her mother’s twice from Adam’s to make sure everything was OK and that they weren’t pining.

‘If Gran doesn’t mind, of course you can, pet! Did you enjoy yourself, Michael?’ She addressed her son, who was guarding a plate of fresh homemade scones as if they were the
Crown jewels.

‘Oh Mammy, it was brill. I helped Grandad to milk the cows. I wish we lived on a farm all the time.’

‘Mammy, I’ve a thong for you.’ Shona was not to be outdone. ‘I’m thpecial becauthe I’m thpecial,’ she sang in her little baby voice that made Maggie
smile.

‘You’re special because you’re special. That’s a lovely song, Shona. Where did you learn that?’

‘It’s really a hymn, Mammy. She just doesn’t know all the words,’ Mimi explained as they drove through Redcross and past Johnson’s and Saint Mary’s and on to
the main road. It was marvellous to see the kids again, Maggie reflected, as they started to sing the hymn Mimi was going on about. Honestly, you’d think she’d been gone a month rather
than a day but when they had run out to greet her and smother her in hugs and kisses it was the greatest thing.

They were all singing the ‘special’ hymn as Maggie drove up to the mobile. There was much laughing and excitement as the children tumbled out of the car. Michael started doing his
handstands on the grass and Shona had to be in on the act. Mimi, because she was wearing a dress, stood demurely at the veranda with her mother pretending to be all grown-up.

‘Anybody like to go to the beach?’ Maggie asked casually.

‘I would!’

‘I would!’

‘Me would!’

Thus shrieked the trio in turn and they galloped up the veranda steps to get into their togs. Maggie laughed as she walked up behind them. A little girl peered shyly around the corner of the
mobile opposite and Maggie smiled at her. She appeared to be just a little older than Mimi and was dressed in a gorgeous frilly sundress with matching hat. Maggie smiled at her.
‘Hello.’

‘Alexandra, where are you?’ said someone with a rather posh accent and Maggie smiled to herself as she remembered Cathy’s title Lady Muck. Alexandra wasn’t your
run-of-the-mill common-or-garden name either. A petite blonde woman came around the corner of her veranda.

‘Hi,’ Maggie gave a friendly smile, looking up from her bag, where she was rooting for her keys. It was something in the way the other woman was looking at her that made Maggie look
again. Her brows drew together in a little puzzled frown. That face was terribly familiar from somewhere. She looked again. ‘Good Lord!’ she ejaculated. ‘It’s Marian.
It’s Marian Gilhooley, isn’t it?’

‘Hello, Maggie,’ Marian said coolly and turned her attention to her daughter. ‘Darling, you know you’re not allowed on that side of the mobile, we have to respect
others’ privacy. Come up to the veranda and play with Mummy.’ She smiled a vague uninterested smile in Maggie’s direction and then glided around to the main part of her veranda
and out of sight.

Maggie stood with her jaw open.

‘Come on, Mammy! Are we going?’ Mimi danced up and down impatiently beside her.

‘Yes, sure. Come on inside quick and get ready.’ Had she imagined it or had she just seen Marian Gilhooley, friend of her schooldays. Get a load of that accent! When she knew Marian,
she had had a lovely Cork lilt. Now there wasn’t a trace of it. It was pure South Dublin. It was hard to credit. And obviously, after all this time, Marian still did not wish to let go the
past. Maggie shrugged. ‘Oh well, that’s her problem,’ she muttered as she organized swimming-togs, rings, buckets and spades and, as well, some biscuits, lemonade and banana
sandwiches for a picnic tea. When she came back out to pack everything in the car there was no sign of Marian or her little girl.

Sitting on the beach, as the late-afternoon sun warmed her back and the children splashed happily at the edge of the sea, Maggie reflected on her recent encounter. Imagine meeting Marian
Gilhooley again after all this time. It was such a small world. At the time when Marian had ended the friendship, Maggie had been devastated, because Marian had been like the sister she never had.
But the old saying that time heals all wounds had proved true and Maggie, while regretting the loss of the friendship, had put the past behind her and got on with her life. She felt that she had
made every effort at reconciliation but Marian had rebuffed her each time. Maggie, never one to hold a grudge, had ended up feeling sorry for the other girl and eventually she forgot all about
her.

Now, meeting again, it didn’t surprise her that Marian was cold and unfriendly. She was obviously defensive and if she didn’t want to be friendly it was no skin off Maggie’s
nose; she wasn’t going to force anything. The situation no longer bothered her. Marian had looked great though, with her sleek bobbed blonde hair and her obviously expensive designer gear.
More power to her, Maggie reflected, as she turned her attention to Mimi who was covering her toes with a bucketful of sand. ‘Play with me, Mammy.’

‘Of course I will,’ she said, smiling and catching her daughter in her arms, and beginning to tickle her amid much squealing and laughter.

Several times during the week, she and Marian passed and greeted each other politely. Each time she saw her, Marian had a new outfit on and her make-up was always immaculate, her hair perfectly
groomed. Her poor daughter was always dressed to the nines and Maggie felt sorry for the little girl that she wasn’t allowed to join in the rough-and-tumble with the rest of the kids.

She was sitting on her veranda the following Friday, doing the last of her revision, anxious to get as much done before Terry arrived for the weekend, when she heard Marian calling her name
frantically. ‘Maggie, Maggie, quick! It’s Alexandra: she’s choking. I don’t know what to do. Maggie, help me!’

Maggie was out of her seat like a bullet, racing across the dividing lawn and up around to the other woman’s veranda. She could hear the great gasping whoops of the little girl as she
fought to get air into her lungs. Her face was already turning blue. Maggie, recalling her nursing training, stood behind the child, put her arms around her diaphragm and applied the Heimlich
manoeuvre. The obstruction lodged in the little girl’s throat shot out to the other side of the mobile and with tears streaming down her cheeks she gulped in great gasps of air.

‘Now, now you’re fine! There’s a good girl,’ Maggie soothed her. Doing the Heimlich on a child was dicey enough: there was always the danger of cracking a rib or two as
their bones were so soft, but as she ran her hands expertly over the child’s ribcage, Maggie knew everything was all right.

Marian put her arms around her daughter and looked up at Maggie, her face as white as a sheet. ‘Thanks, Maggie. I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered and promptly burst into
tears.

‘Stop that, Marian,’ Maggie said firmly, seeing that Alexandra was beginning to howl even louder at the sight of her mother in floods. ‘Come on! I’ll make you a cup of
coffee.’ She knelt down to the little girl and said cheerfully, ‘Alexandra, would you like to come over to my mobile and see my little girl’s Little Mermaid doll?’ Alexandra
stopped howling.

‘Yes, please,’ she said excitedly.

‘Is that OK with you?’ Maggie asked Marian calmly. For a moment their eyes met and then Marian dropped hers and nodded her head silently. ‘I’ll bring her over and make
you a strong cup of coffee; a small drop of milk and no sugar if I remember rightly.’

‘You’ve a good memory,’ Marian said dryly.

‘Oh, it’s just that you were always the same as my mother with tea and coffee,’ Maggie said lightly and at the mention of Nelsie the other woman blushed under her make-up.

‘How
is
your mother?’ she asked awkwardly.

‘She’s well – ageing a bit, slowing down, but well, thank God. How are your parents?’ Maggie tried to be as matter-of-fact as possible. She knew Marian was feeling
uncomfortable now that the drama was over and things were back to normal.

‘They’re . . . they’re good,’ Marian said tersely, and her tone had more than a hint of frost.

‘Look. Sit down, Mar, you’ve had a shock. I’ll bring Alexandra over to my place and I’ll be back in a jiffy,’ Maggie said briskly, taking the child by the hand and
leading her out the door and down the steps of the veranda. It was quite obvious to Maggie that Marian was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. If Alexandra had not choked, Marian would have
ignored her for the duration of her stay and they would have parted, probably never to see each other again. But now, Marian obviously felt she had to be civil at least and she wasn’t liking
it much.

Maggie felt slightly angry. What was the big deal, for God’s sake? Couldn’t Marian for once in her life be adult about a situation and let bygones be bygones. She hadn’t
changed a bit from when they were at school. Maybe she didn’t want her little girl playing with Maggie’s children, but the child had had a shock and the best thing for her was to forget
about it as soon as possible by being distracted by something nice and normal. If she had stayed with her mother both of them would have ended up in hysterics. Although, as Maggie had to admit,
Marian was usually very level-headed in a crisis, it was a different kettle of fish when your child was involved. As quickly as it had surged, her anger faded. If Marian wanted to be friends, fine;
if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t cost Maggie any sleepless nights any longer. She had got over that years ago.

‘Look, Mimi, Michael, Shona, this is Alexandra, I’ve brought her over to play for a little while. Mimi, will you show Alexandra your Little Mermaid doll?’

Her three children stared at the newcomer. Alexandra, who was at least a year older than Mimi, put her thumb in her mouth and stood shyly, sucking it.

‘Mammy! she’s sucking her thumb an’ she’s bigger than me,’ Mimi exclaimed.

‘
Mimi!
’ Maggie glared at her elder daughter. Trust her. ‘Alexandra has no little brothers and sisters to play with so I want you to be nice to her and show her how
well-behaved you are and how good you are at sharing. OK?’

‘OK, Mammy,’ chorused her offspring, as Mimi, in charge of the situation, took the little girl by the hand and led her over to the toy box.

‘Would you like to see my Likkle Mermaid doll?’

‘Yes please,’ Alexandra nodded, her ringlets dancing up and down.

‘You can play with Thomas the Tank Engine if you like,’ Michael offered generously and Maggie smiled to herself as she made the coffee. Kids were great: they had no side to them.
Pity adults couldn’t be the same.

Marian was on her mobile phone when Maggie walked in with the coffee but as soon as she saw her she told the person at the other end that she would call them back later.

‘There’s no need to cut short your phone call, Marian, I’ll just give you your coffee and let you relax,’ she said.

‘Oh . . . oh, I was just calling Alex, my husband, to tell him what happened. I thought he might be able to come down tonight instead of tomorrow but he can’t. Business commitments
and all that.’ There was a hint of bitterness in the other woman’s voice.

‘Oh, I know all about it. It’s a bit of a drag, isn’t it?’ Maggie sighed. ‘Although, miracle of miracles, Terry, my husband, is actually leaving work early to miss
the traffic, I’m expecting him any time now. But to be honest, I’ll believe it when I see it.’

‘What does your husband do?’ Marian sipped her coffee and started to relax.