City Lives

by Patricia Scanlan

  Patricia Scanlan was born in Dublin, where she still lives. Her books have sold worldwide and have been translated into many languages. Patricia is the series editor and a contributing author to the Open Door series. She also teaches creative writing to second-level students and is involved in Adult Literacy.

  Find out more by visiting Patricia Scanlan on Facebook.

  Also by Patricia Scanlan

  Apartment 3B

  Finishing Touches

  Foreign Affairs

  Promises, Promises

  Mirror Mirror

  Francesca’s Party

  Two for Joy

  Double Wedding

  Divided Loyalties

  Coming Home

  Trilogies

  City Girl

  City Lives

  City Woman

  Forgive and Forget

  Happy Ever After

  Love and Marriage

  With All My Love

  A Time for Friends

  First published in Ireland by Poolbeg Press, 1999

  This paperback edition published by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2015

  A CBS COMPANY

  Copyright © Patricia Scanlan 1999

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  ® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.

  The right of Patricia Scanlan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  1st Floor

  222 Gray’s Inn Road

  London WC1X 8HB

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

  Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  PB ISBN: 978-1-47114-115-7

  EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-47114-116-4

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  May your love be upon us O Lord,

  as we place all our hope in you. (Psalm 33).

  Thank you, Lord for the love that surrounds me.

  There were many joyful and loving moments during the writing of this book, especially when the final chapter was completed. I am so blessed with the love and friendship of such wonderful family and friends, I could write a book of acknowledgements!

  Special thanks:

  To my mother and father who give such love and support.

  To Mary and Henry and Yvonne and Donald who kept me going right through and who fed and watered me in Wicklow and wouldn’t let me do any washing-up either, so as not to keep me from the computer!

  To Dermot who’s always getting me out of fixes, and to Catherine who never minds.

  To Paul and Lucy and Hugh and Rose, always supportive and encouraging.

  To Fiona, Caitriona, Patrick, Laura, Rebecca, and Tara and to Miss Rachel Bellew who has all of us wrapped around her little finger. I’m so lucky to have such beautiful nieces and a very special nephew.

  To Maureen, a very dear godmother.

  To the friends who are always there.

  To Breda Purdue . . . what giggles we’ve had. And loads more to come. Everyone should have a Breda in their life. Dear Breda, thanks for everything.

  To Sarah Lutyens, Felicity Rubinstein, and Susannah Godman, my three adopted sisters. The good times came, and we’re having fun. For all the love and encouragement you send winging my way a million thanks. I’m really looking forward to our next ‘posh’ lunch. To Francesca Liversidge, a wonderful editor. It’s been a joy to work with you and an even greater joy to know that you’re a real friend. I’m so lucky. I bet it’s not every author who has editing sessions in Fortnum & Mason!! Here’s to the next one.

  To Annette Tallon . . . a very honest, courageous and special lady.

  To Deirdre Purcell . . . a super talented woman who gives so much to everyone and not enough to herself.

  To Anne Schulman, thanks for all the encouragement and especially for the lovely letter that came at just the right time.

  To Geraldine Crowley and Helen and Brenda for coming to my rescue. It was the best photocopied manuscript, ever.

  To Margaret Daly. We still have to have our ‘elbows on the table’ lunch!

  To Jo O’Donoghue my first editor who was with me for City Girl and City Woman. For all that you taught me, Jo, and for being a great editor. Thanks.

  To Debbie Sheehy. I want an acknowledgement in your book. Keep writing!!!

  To Anne Jensen who helped more than she will ever know. Dear Anne may your life be full of joy.

  To Catherine MacLiam. A great art teacher and a very talented artist. Thanks for all the happy hours and for all the scrumptious lunches. To Sheila O’Flanagan. Hang in there, Sheila, good times are coming and what a celebration we will have!!

  To Chris Green. Thanks for the hug, just when I needed it most.

  To Gareth O’Callaghan, Cathy Kelly, Marian Keyes, Lia Mills, Louise Cooper, Anne Wiley and Aoibhinn Hogan, for all the Keep-in-Touch phonecalls.

  To the Shy Man who won’t let me write his name. You’re a joy and a blessing in my life.

  To Alil O Shaughnessy . . . it was a terrific prescription! You’re a pal.

  To Tony Kavanagh who gets told everything whether he likes it or not. Thanks for being a great mate.

  To Kieran Connolly . . . Now I have seen . . . What can I say? I’m speechless!! It was awesome!!!!!

  To Dr Frankie Fine. We have great laughs. You’re the best!

  To Peter Orford. For a great kindness during a difficult time.

  To the very busy Michael McLoughlin for deigning to ring now and again.

  To all in Transworld, I’d love to thank everyone by name. But you all know how much I appreciate and value your kindness. It’s a pleasure and fun to be part of the ‘family’.

  To all my friends in the book trade. You know who you are. Thanks for all the support.

  To Nikki, Jean, Pauline, Louise, and Laura, in Nikki’s Hair Studio. Thanks for all the kindness.

  To all in Mac’s Gym who try and keep me on my toes.

  To Eileen and Carmel in Kilbride Post Office for being so helpful.

  To Catherine, John, Jennifer, Anthony, Alison, Gillian, Emma, Lorna, and Ryan . . . the Wicklow gang.

  To my friends in Massey butchers in Ballygall who want to call my next novel ‘Strip Loin’. ‘Himself’ loved the steak!

  To everyone who buys and enjoys my novels. Thank you.

  To my Anam Cara, who gave me the most Perfect Day of my life. I would never have written this book without him.

  Never stop trying to succeed. It’s always the last key that opens the lock.

  Nancy Woods

  Contents

  One DEVLIN

  Two CAROLINE

  Three MAGGIE

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-sev
en

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Forty-two

  Forty-three

  Forty-four

  Forty-five

  Forty-six

  Forty-seven

  Forty-eight

  Forty-nine

  One

  DEVLIN

  Devlin Delaney’s hands shook as she took the slim wand from its packet. In a few minutes she’d know if her dearest wish was to be granted. To be pregnant with Luke’s baby would make her happy beyond belief.

  Her blue eyes darkened in sadness. How different this was from when she’d first thought she was pregnant all those years ago. How frightened she’d been. So young and naïve and single. Deluding herself that her boss and seducer, the eminent and respected gynaecologist Colin Cantrell-King, loved her and would stand by her. That had been a forlorn wish. Colin had packed her off to an abortion clinic in England.

  Devlin shivered as she remembered her desperation and fear in that place, all the doubts and anxieties that had beset her. She’d felt as though she was swimming in the darkest, thickest fog . . . alone. And then the morning she was due to have the termination she’d simply packed her bags and walked out of the clinic and never looked back.

  Her baby, Lynn, the greatest joy of her life, had changed her from a spoilt, rather selfish young woman to one who took responsibility for her actions and in the process became caring, strong and motivated.

  Devlin swallowed and tears blurred her eyes. Her baby’s death in a car crash had quenched her spirit so completely that she’d thought she’d never climb out of the darkness.

  But then Luke had come into her life, sent to her like a guardian angel. They’d gone into business, created the luxurious City Girl health and leisure complex, and, in the process, fallen in love and married. Luke was her rock. The greatest blessing in her life. And he was waiting anxiously in the bedroom to know if he was going to be a father.

  She wiped her eyes and did the test. It wasn’t fair to dawdle. She slipped the wand into her dressing-gown pocket. He was standing by the bedroom window looking out towards the twinkling lights of Howth when she padded in to him and slipped an arm around his waist.

  He dropped an arm around her shoulder and smiled down at her.

  ‘How long do we have to wait?’

  ‘Just another minute or so. My heart’s thumping so fast I can almost hear it.’

  ‘Mine too.’

  ‘Are you sure this is what you want, Luke?’ Devlin stared up into her husband’s amber eyes, searching for reassurance.

  ‘Of course it’s what I want, Devlin. More than anything. As long as you’re happy about it.’

  ‘Oh Luke, I want your baby so much. I’ve always hoped this day would come. I can’t believe it. It’s a bit like a dream.’

  ‘It’s no dream. You keep seducing me against my will. You’re a nymphomaniac. I’m not safe anywhere. It was bound to happen.’

  ‘Stop it, you. Be serious.’ Devlin giggled.

  ‘I am serious,’ he protested. ‘Very serious. I mean, Devlin, jumping me in the lift . . . if your public saw you. And what about the time we went for a walk down in Wicklow and you—’

  ‘Stop it. You’re as bad. Remember the time at the airport?’

  They smiled and wrapped their arms around each other, happier than they’d ever been.

  ‘But we’ll have to decide where we’re going to live. London or Dublin. And I’d like a house with a garden. Apartments are no places to raise children.’ Devlin’s brow furrowed.

  Luke laughed. ‘Will you stop panicking, Delaney. You’re an awful woman for jumping the gun. We don’t even know if you are pregnant yet. Let me see that thing.’

  Devlin took the wand from her pocket. They glanced down at it together.

  ‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s blue! It’s blue! Devlin, we’re pregnant! We’re pregnant!’

  ‘Oh Luke, you idiot.’ Devlin was half laughing, half crying as he swept her up in his arms and hugged the daylights out of her again.

  ‘I think I’ll do another one just to be sure,’ she murmured, rubbing her nose against his.

  ‘I’ve a better idea,’ Luke grinned as he carried her over to the bed. ‘Let’s make sure, sure.’

  ‘I forgot I’d married a genius . . . and you call me a nymphomaniac.’

  ‘Well, you couldn’t call me one,’ Luke teased and Devlin burst out laughing.

  ‘I love you. I really, really love you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I love you too, Devlin, with all my heart.’

  Devlin drew him down to her and kissed her husband soundly.

  Afterwards, drowsy, replete, and utterly content, Devlin lay cradled in Luke’s arms. ‘It just gets better and better,’ she murmured.

  ‘Yeah!’ Luke smiled down at her.

  ‘What would you prefer, boy or girl?’ Devlin snuggled closer.

  ‘I don’t mind. I just can’t believe that I’m going to be a father. Let’s not ask when you go for your scan. Let’s have a surprise.’ He gently stroked the softness of her still-flat belly. ‘Are you all right about the baby, Devlin? I mean I’m sure it’s going to bring back memories of Lynn. Promise me you won’t keep it all bottled in. Share it all with me, won’t you?’

  ‘I had a little cry in the loo, when I was doing the test,’ she confessed. ‘I was just thinking how joyful this is and how devastated I was when I discovered I was pregnant with Lynn. And then how happy I was when she was born. She was a beautiful baby, Luke.’

  ‘I know she was. How could she not be with you as her mother,’ Luke said gently. ‘And this baby isn’t a replacement for Lynn. No-one will ever replace that precious little child for you. So if you get a bit down, please don’t hide it from me. Promise.’

  ‘I promise, Luke. But I want this to be a good time for you.’ Devlin took his face in her hands and smiled at him.

  ‘All my times with you are good times,’ Luke said huskily as he lowered his head and kissed her passionately.

  Later, Luke made tea and toasted-cheese sandwiches and they sat snuggled up in front of the fire eating their supper.

  ‘Will you still think I’m sexy when I’m waddling around with a big bump?’ Devlin asked.

  ‘I’ll always think you’re sexy,’ Luke assured her. ‘I even think you’re sexy with a big dribble of butter and melted cheese running down your chin. Here.’ He handed her a napkin.

  ‘You’re such a brat, Luke Reilly.’ Devlin wiped her chin. ‘I’m looking for reassurance here. When I was pregnant with Lynn I was like an elephant.’

  ‘Does this mean I’m in danger of being squashed if you jump on me in lifts, or wrestle me to the ground under oak trees in the country? Is my life in danger?’ Luke stared at her in pretend horror.

  ‘Oh Luke!’ Devlin laughed.

  ‘Devlin, honestly I don’t care what you look like. I love you. I’m delighted you’re pregnant. I’ll go to classes and decorate nurseries and do whatever you want. I just want to be with you and share every moment of this with you and I want it to be the happiest time of your life.’ Luke reached over to her and took her face between his hands.

  Devlin promptly burst into tears.

  Luke looked horrified. ‘For God’s sake, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m just so happy,’ she sniffed. ‘Don’t mind me, it’s my hormones.’

  ‘Oh God! I’d forgotten about The Hormones.’ Luke smote his forehead. ‘Are pregnancy hormones worse than PMT ones?’

  ‘A hundred times worse,’ Devlin assured him, half laughing, half crying.

  ‘Interesting times ahead, so.’ Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll
cope. I’m made of stern stuff. Do you want another sanger, now that you’re eating for two?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I’m ravenous,’ Devlin declared.

  ‘OK, sit there and put your feet up. One Reilly special coming up.’ Luke kissed the top of her head and departed to the kitchen.

  Devlin sat in the fire’s dancing shadows and watched the flames flickering up the chimney. Scented candles cast a gentle glow around the room. Enya, soft and soothing, sang in the background. Peace enveloped her. How lucky she was. When this baby was born her life would be perfect. She’d have everything she’d ever wanted. Was it possible to experience perfect happiness? Right now Devlin knew she’d never been as happy in all her life. She was so happy she was almost afraid. The griefs and sorrows of her past were a constant reminder that what was given could also be taken away.

  Don’t think like that, she chided herself silently. Live in the now, wasn’t that what it was all about? One of the beauty therapists at City Girl, who specialized in aromatherapy and reflexology, had a little poster in her room that always comforted Devlin.

  The past is gone, to be no more

  Tomorrow may never come

  Enjoy today and be at peace

  And you and God are one.

  ‘Enjoy today and be at peace,’ she whispered to herself as she rubbed her hand gently over her tummy, longing for the moment when she would feel the first faint flutterings of life.

  Two

  CAROLINE

  It would probably be one of the last public functions they would appear at together, Caroline reflected somewhat sadly as she lightly tipped a mascara brush to her eyelashes. She’d be giving up her envied status as wife to one of Dublin’s most successful lawyers.

  Big brown eyes stared back at her from the mirror. She could see the fear in them. Divorce was very final. She was, as she had always feared, going to be on her own. It wasn’t as if Richard was even going to be living in Dublin. He was moving to Boston, bag and baggage.

  Even though in the last few years they’d lived together in the apartment like flatmates, not husband and wife, she’d miss the companionship. She’d miss knowing there was someone to come home to.