City Woman (46 page)

Maggie stared at Marian in shock and felt her insides go cold. That was a bloody stupid thing to do, kissing in public like that, but of all the hundreds of thousands of people who were in town
that day, trust Marian to have seen them!

Marian was looking at her, waiting for an answer. If it had been like the old days when they knew everything about each other, Maggie would have confided in her. But times had changed, they had
changed – and so she merely said, as casually as she could, ‘That’s Adam. He’s the one who introduced me to the writers’ group. He’s an old friend.’

‘And a dear one, by the looks of it,’ Marian remarked tartly.

‘Oh God!’ Maggie thought to herself. Or, as Clarissa would say, oh Gahd!

‘Shouldn’t we join the others?’ she murmured.

‘Of course.’ Marian smiled knowingly, leading the way into the lounge.

Clarissa beamed at her. ‘Maggie, your gorgeous husband here tells me you’re having a book published, I guess you must be thrilled. Sit here and tell me all about it.’ The other
woman patted the sofa beside her and, grateful for the respite, Maggie sat beside her.

‘What’s it called, honey?’

‘I called it
City Woman
. It’s coming out next November.’

‘Waal, that’s surely what I call an achievement. I wish you the very best of luck with it.’

‘Thanks very much, Clarissa, I’ll send you a copy when it comes out,’ Maggie promised the friendly, enthusiastic woman at her side.

Despite her shock in the kitchen, Maggie enjoyed the dinner. Clarissa and Edward were very witty, warm people and Terry, who was always good in company, was thoroughly enjoying himself. Alex,
despite his suave exterior, revealed a dry sense of humour, and there was plenty of laughter and interesting conversation. Maggie, who had been a bit tense during the first course, started to
relax. Because she was driving home, she wasn’t drinking at all, but the rest of the company imbibed freely and by the time they were sipping their Irish coffees after dessert everybody, even
Marian, was relaxed and full of bonhomie. She was getting on like a house on fire with Terry, who had turned on the charm for her. ‘Your husband is flirting with me,’ giggled Marian,
and Maggie realized she was slightly tiddly.

‘Don’t be taken in,’ laughed Maggie, ‘Terry is an incorrigible flirt. He flirts with everyone.’

‘Well, he can flirt with me any time! A woman likes to be appreciated.’ Marian beamed at Terry, her cheeks slightly flushed, her eyes bright. ‘I’ll have an affair with
him while you’re having an affair with that Adam guy.’

The colour drained from Maggie’s face and she stared at her tipsy friend in horror, giving an involuntary gasp.

Marian immediately sobered up and her hand flew to her mouth. Clarissa met her husband’s eye in dismay and then, with a discreet flick of her wrist, knocked over her glass of red wine,
shrieking dramatically, ‘Oh Gahd, what a clutterbuck I am. You can’t take me anywhere, Teddy,’ as the vivid red stain seeped into the pristine white of the tablecloth.

‘Not to worry, Clarissa.’ Alex came to her rescue and started mopping with his napkin.

‘Why don’t we finish our coffee in the lounge,’ Marian suggested quickly.

‘Oh yes, do let’s. And it’s my turn to flirt with Terry; you’ve been monopolizing him all night,’ Clarissa said brightly, linking Terry’s arm and giving
Maggie an imperceptible wink.

Maggie could have hugged the other woman for her intervention. She was an astute lady and a kind one too. With great skill and charm, she kept the atmosphere light for the remainder of the
evening and, glancing at her husband occasionally, Maggie comforted herself that he hadn’t even noticed what Marian had said. He seemed his usual exuberant self. Nevertheless, she was glad
when he suggested they make a move an hour or so later, saying that they didn’t want to keep their babysitter up too late.

‘Maggie, I’m terribly sorry. It just slipped out,’ Marian whispered as they went upstairs to get the coats. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose. You believe that,
don’t you?’

‘I know you didn’t,’ Maggie said with a sigh. For all her pretension, Marian hadn’t a malicious bone in her body. Maggie knew that it had been a slip of the tongue as a
result of too much wine.

Marian ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. ‘I don’t think Terry noticed anything. Not with the fuss Clarissa was making about the wine.’

‘Stop worrying about it,’ Maggie said firmly. ‘Clarissa handled the whole thing very well by upsetting that glass deliberately. She’s one nice lady.’

‘She certainly surprised me tonight,’ Marian admitted. ‘There’s more to her than meets the eye.’

‘Well,
I
wouldn’t mind having her for a sister-in-law,’ Maggie declared, as she slipped into her coat and took Terry’s navy overcoat and scarf from the closet
where they were hanging.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, honey, and the best of success with your book.’ Clarissa enveloped her and Terry in turn in a bear-hug, as they stood at the front door.

‘Happy New Year,’ the Montclares all called as Maggie and Terry got into the car. Maggie switched on the ignition and drove slowly down the drive. ‘That was a nice evening.
Clarissa and Edward are a lovely couple,’ she remarked as they emerged on to the main road.

Terry turned to look at her and his eyes were cold slits of fury. ‘You bitch, Maggie! You’re paying me back, aren’t you? You’re carrying on with that bloke from the
writers’ group! And don’t bother to deny it – it’s written all over your face!’

Forty

Maggie drove steadily on. She had often wondered what the moment would be like when Terry found out about her affair. But she could only give half her attention to her own
plight because there was a lot of traffic and she needed to keep her wits about her. In a way it was a relief that he knew. Maggie was not by nature at ease with lies and deception, so she had
found them the hardest thing to handle. Now Terry knew – it was all out in the open. Where it would lead, she tried not to think.

Of course, she was quite aware of the feelings he was experiencing this minute: the rage, the hurt, the sense of betrayal. Oh, she knew
exactly
. She recalled how she’d felt the
day she’d discovered Ria Kirby, in her house, in her shower, with her husband. At least, she thought bitterly, she’d conducted her affair outside their home.

‘By Christ, but you’re cool, Maggie,’ Terry fumed, interrupting her musings. ‘You don’t even try to deny it.’

‘Why should I? It’s true,’ Maggie said flatly, as she geared down and stopped at a set of traffic lights.

Terry looked at her with hatred. ‘How long have you been sleeping with the bastard?’

‘What difference does it make, Terry? What difference does the date, the hour, the minute make?’ she snapped.

‘It makes a hell of a bloody difference,’ he shouted at her. ‘I want to know. I want to know how long you’ve been making a fool of me, how long you’ve been going
between his bed and mine?’

‘Since last summer, if you
must
know. We haven’t been having an affair as long as you and Ria were, I haven’t been making a fool of you as long as you were me,’
Maggie spat.

‘You bitch, you bloody spiteful bitch. You make me sick!’ Terry turned away from her and Maggie jerked the car forward as the lights went green.

She was so tempted to yell, ‘Now you know what it’s like; now you know what I felt like. Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,’ but she held her tongue. There was no
point in engaging in a screaming match in the car. It was hard enough to concentrate on her driving as it was.

In a silence that palpitated with anger, resentment and even hatred, they drove home to Castleknock. Terry barged into the house before her and marched up the stairs.

‘Hi, Josie!’ Maggie popped her head through the sitting-room door and tried to keep her tone normal. ‘Are we very late?’ She was hoping against hope that Josie
wouldn’t be in the humour for a chat.

‘You’re grand, Maggie. Did you have a good time?’ Maggie saw with relief that Josie was packing away her knitting.

‘It was lovely. It’s nice having a meal served up to you.’ She tried to smile, but felt like bawling her eyes out. ‘Were the children all right? Terry was bursting to go
to the loo, and he’s going to look in on them,’ she fibbed.

‘As good as gold, Maggie. I enjoyed my evening, but I’d better get home and face the music. I wouldn’t put it past that ould rip to be up waiting for me.’ Josie slipped
on her coat and kissed Maggie on the cheek. Maggie went to the door to wave her off. As the little yellow Mini, Josie’s pride and joy, disappeared into the night, she closed the front door,
switched off the downstairs lights and walked slowly up the stairs. She walked into her bedroom and stood rooted to the floor at the sight that met her eyes.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Her eyes widened as she saw Terry filling a suitcase with her clothes.

‘I’m helping you to leave this house. Just get out, Maggie. Go to your lover. I never want to see you again. How could you do it to me, Maggie? How could you betray me?’ Terry
was nearly incoherent.

Fury surged through Maggie. ‘Now,
you
listen here to me, buster. The cheek of you to tell me to get out of my own home. Who the hell do you think you are? You bloody hypocrite.
What about you betraying me with that lousy wagon, Ria Kirby?’

‘Oh, and you had to get your own back, didn’t you?’ Terry raged. ‘You just couldn’t wait to jump into the sack with some creep to even the score.’

‘How dare you, Terry Ryan!’ Maggie walloped her startled husband across the face. ‘Adam isn’t a creep and I didn’t jump into the sack with him. I knew him for a
hell of a long time before I had an affair with him. I’ll tell you why I’m having an affair with him. And it isn’t to even any scores,’ she said contemptuously.
‘That’s not my style, it’s yours. The day I started my affair with Adam was the day I went into your office to show you the cover of
City Woman
. You couldn’t be
bothered even to look at it,’ Maggie accused him bitterly.

‘How the fuck could I look at it?’ he roared. ‘Hadn’t the bloody VAT man just arrived unannounced doing one of his sneaky spot-checks. What was I supposed to do –
just drop everything because you arrived?’

‘Keep your voice down! You’ll wake the kids,’ Maggie said furiously. ‘That’s just the point I’m trying to make. You would never ever drop everything because
of me. I’m way down on your list of priorities, Terry, and always have been. When I’m with Adam, he treats me as if I’m special. He’s interested in what I am and what
I’m doing with my life in a way that you’ve never been.’

‘Ah, don’t give me that crap, Maggie. You’re living in cloud-cuckoo-land. I work my butt off to give you and the family a reasonably affluent lifestyle and it isn’t easy.
We’ve three children to clothe, feed and educate. You can’t expect me to behave as if we’re still on our honeymoon.’

‘Oh, what’s the point?’ Maggie said wearily. ‘You haven’t a clue about what I need emotionally. I’m just wasting my breath.’ Terry paced up and down the
bedroom floor. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Maggie, grow up! We’ve got three fantastic kids. I have a good business so we don’t have any worries about money. We’ve someone
who comes in every Friday so you can have time for yourself. You’re having a book published. You’ve got it made. Anything else is a bonus. How would you like to be Caroline?
What’s
she
got, for crying out loud? Look at Patrick and Susy – they’re miserable. How would
you
like to live in that purgatory they call a marriage? We’re
doing well, Maggie, and if you can’t see that you’re blind.’

‘I’m not talking about the kids or the house or what we’ve got materially. I’m talking about
us
. You and me, Terry. Whatever we had when we married is gone. I
need more from you than you give me,’ Maggie cried.

‘You’re looking for the moon, Maggie, and you’ll never have it. Go and stay with your lover-boy; he’ll give you all the emotional support you feel I’m depriving you
of,’ Terry snarled.

Slowly, deliberately, Maggie walked over to their en suite and picked up the soft mat that lay at the door. ‘Do you see this, Terry?’ she asked calmly. ‘This is a doormat; you
wipe your feet on it. Well, I’ve got news for you, mister. I’m
not
a doormat and you aren’t going to wipe your feet all over me. If you want to leave this house,
you
go, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ve three children to look after and this is my home.’

‘A fine mother you are,’ Terry sneered, ‘carrying on with another man.’

‘Well, I suppose I could say the same about you and another woman,’ she said contemptuously, taking her clothes back out of the case and hanging them in the Sliderobes.

Terry glared at her. ‘Are you going to finish with that bloke?’

Maggie turned around and faced him squarely. ‘That, Terry, is a matter that has nothing to do with you,’ she said coldly. ‘As far as I’m concerned, what I do from now on
is none of your business, because, for me, our marriage is over.’

Forty-One

‘He just can’t handle it! At all,’ Maggie said ruefully to Devlin and Caroline almost a month after Terry’s discovery of her affair with Adam. ‘I
mean, I was supposed to accept that he had had an affair with Ria Kirby and then forget all about it or pretend it never happened. Men!’

The three of them were having a long-overdue lunch: Devlin and Caroline had been up to their eyes for the previous month because of the opening of Belfast City Girl, and had spent most of their
time in the North. Caroline had travelled down from Belfast that morning to attend to some personal business and was due to go back the next day. The friends had decided that lunch was a priority,
to catch up on all the events in their busy lives. Devlin and Caroline already knew of the disastrous dinner party at Marian’s. Now, as they sat at a quiet window table in Locks Restaurant,
Maggie was bringing them up to date on developments.

‘If women had the egos men had, we’d be in serious trouble,’ Caroline reflected.