City Lives

by Patricia Scanlan

  Along the dark parts of that long avenue she’d been brought to her knees, but she’d picked herself up, forged ahead and she knew now with certainty that whatever happened in her life, guidance was with her. All she had to do was ask.

  It wasn’t an easy journey. Trying to bear in mind ‘This moment is as it should be’ when her world seemed to have started to fall apart again, and trying to ‘Judge not, that you be not judged,’ when Richard was being a shit and Mrs Yates was controlling and manipulating all over the place, was extremely difficult.

  Caroline sighed deeply as she reflected on her current situation. Intuitively, she knew that once she made the first positive step towards leaving, doors would open for her. It had happened for her when she’d left Richard before. She’d got the job in Abu Dhabi, and on her return Devlin had offered her the challenging position in City Girl. All she had to do was to make the leap of faith and leave Richard, and something would turn up. It was just a question of having the courage to do it.

  She wasn’t great on courage, she thought despondently, as she twisted and untwisted the telephone cord. Devlin had much more courage than she had. She’d gone and lived in a high-rise flat in Ballymun when she’d been a single mother with Lynn. And then when her baby and her aunt had been killed in that awful car crash, and she’d suffered dreadful injuries, she’d forced herself to go on living even though she wanted to die too. And now look at her, happily married, pregnant and successful beyond her wildest dreams. Only an incredibly brave person could have overcome what Devlin had endured.

  When things had got rough for Caroline, she’d taken to the bottle, she thought in disgust.

  ‘Now stop that!’ she said aloud. It was very wrong for her to compare herself to someone else. Everyone had to tread their own path. She’d once again given into negative thinking. Enough was enough.

  She said a little prayer, asking for courage, picked up the phone and took a deep breath. She flicked through her rolodex and found the number she wanted and dialled it.

  ‘Murray & Murray, Estate Agents and Auctioneers,’ a pleasant voice came down the line.

  ‘Hello, could I speak to Olivia O’Neill please? It’s a personal call,’ she said crisply.

  ‘Certainly. One moment and I’ll connect you,’ the receptionist said politely. ‘Just hold the line.’

  ‘Greensleeves’ came tinnily over the airwaves as Caroline waited impatiently.

  Olivia was a friend from way back when Caroline had worked in an estate agents. Although Olivia had moved from their old firm, she and Caroline had kept in touch.

  ‘Hello?’ Her friend’s delightful Kerry lilt had never disappeared, even after twenty years in Dublin.

  ‘Olivia, it’s Caroline, I’ve a favour to ask.’

  ‘Hiya, Caroline. Ask away,’ Olivia said cheerfully.

  ‘Well it’s like this, Olivia. I’m leaving Richard and I want to buy a place of my own. I was wondering if you would keep an eye out for me,’ Caroline explained.

  ‘Well it’s about bloody time,’ the other woman said bluntly. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Now if you can wait a couple of months there’s a very nice new block of apartments and town houses coming onstream, not too far from your neck of the woods, down towards St Anne’s Park in Raheny. You might consider them. I’d really advise you to go for somewhere new, you won’t have to pay stamp duty as a first-time buyer and you won’t have to upgrade or redecorate as you might with a second-hand property. But of course you know all that yourself, you being an old hand.’

  ‘Yeah, an old, old hand. Practically geriatric.’ Caroline grinned.

  ‘So you’re taking the plunge at last. Good on you, Caroline. It will be the start of a whole new life for you and I want to come to the house-warming party. You must know a few well-heeled eligible hunks you could introduce me to.’ Olivia was a separated mother of two.

  ‘Like yourself, Olivia, I know a few heels, eligible or not. The man will come when he’s meant to.’

  ‘I’m fed up waiting,’ the other woman moaned. ‘I went to a singles dance the other night, Caroline. Boy was that an experience! I met this guy – gorgeous-looking, late thirties – who spent the whole night talking about himself and his problems. He was married, separated for years, had one child, a boy. He’d been in a few relationships since but was currently single. By the time he’d told me that he’d never really loved anyone in his whole life, ever, I was nearly crying. I wanted to say, “You can learn to love me. I’ll love you. I’ll take care of you.” Caroline, I’m telling you he pressed every single button and I was ready to jump in. You know me and my maternal instincts!’

  ‘What happened?’ Caroline asked. She’d never met anyone like Olivia for letting her heart rule her head.

  ‘We made a date to go to dinner in Mario’s. I did all the booking. I had several phone calls from him in the meantime and we talked and talked . . . all about him naturally . . . and then I sat waiting for him to collect me at seven, from my house. And waited . . . and waited. The fucker stood me up. And he looked so bloody respectable. Suit, tie, his own business. Imagine! Imagine being thirty-nine years of age and being stood up. It’s outrageous. It’s ridiculous. That happens to fifteen-year-olds, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Girl, you had a lucky escape,’ Caroline retorted. ‘He lied when he told you that he’d never loved anyone in his whole life. He’s so in love with himself there’s no room for anyone else. If he phones you again, do yourself a favour and hang up. You’re not that desperate.’

  ‘Oh yes I am,’ wailed Olivia. ‘I’m lonely, Caroline. I miss having a man around the house. I miss coming home and telling someone the news of the day. My kids are adorable but all they want to do is watch MTV and play on the computer. I hate sleeping on my own. It’s cold. I want loving arms, a nice furry hairy chest, and long hard legs wrapped around me keeping me warm.’

  ‘Did you ever think of trying the zoo?’ Caroline teased, amused at Olivia’s description.

  ‘Bitch.’ Olivia chuckled. ‘What finally made you decide to call it a day with Richard?’

  ‘Well, it was a joint decision originally, and we were going for a divorce as well. Richard was going to sell the firm and move to Boston, but then Mrs Yates had a heart attack after hearing the news, so he’s not selling and he’s not going and now he’s iffy about the divorce too. If I don’t do it now, I’ll never do it. It would have been easier if things had gone to plan. He’s kind of blaming me for Mrs Yates’s heart attack.’

  ‘Typical,’ Olivia said dryly. ‘But don’t you dare take that guilt trip on board,’ her friend warned. ‘Great move on her part, though. She has him for life now.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Caroline sighed. ‘It’s a very destructive relationship and I’m not getting drawn in deeper than I am already. It’s time to walk away.’

  ‘Walking away is the hardest thing in the world,’ Olivia said sadly and Caroline’s heart went out to her. Olivia had been married to a gambler. She loved him deeply but he’d lost every penny they had. Because of his addiction they’d been in debt up to their ears. Caroline knew she still wept for him, even after three years of separation.

  ‘Listen, why don’t we have a night out? I promise I won’t stand you up. I’ll be at your front door at seven on the dot. I don’t have a hairy chest but I could give you a hug if that would help?’ Caroline suggested.

  ‘I’d love it. When? Where?’

  ‘Hell! Why not Mario’s?’

  ‘Why not?’ Olivia laughed.

  ‘Right! I’ll check to see what the bookings are like and get back to you. Talk to you soon, Olivia,’ Caroline said light-heartedly. Now that she’d taken the first step towards making the break, she felt as if a load had lifted from her shoulders.

  Nineteen

  ‘You haven’t sold the firm, have you?’ Sarah Yates asked in a quavery voice.

  ‘No, Mother, I haven’t,’ Richard assured her.

  ‘And you’re not leaving me alone to go to America?’
<
br />   ‘No.’

  ‘And you’re not going to get a divorce?’ She fixed him with a beady stare.

  ‘No, Mother. I told you so last night and the night before.’

  He looked pasty-faced and unhappy, but it was good enough for him, for giving her a fright like that, Sarah thought unforgivingly as she lay back against the crisp white pillows and closed her eyes.

  ‘Are you all right, Mother? Should I get a nurse?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘No. I’m just tired. You can go now if you want to. When you come in tomorrow bring me the blue bedjacket that’s in the middle drawer of my dressing-table. And bring me my missal.’

  She kept her eyes closed as she heard him put on his black overcoat and only opened them when he took her hand in his and bid her good night.

  ‘Good night, Richard. Make sure Mrs Gleeson is keeping the house clean and check the sideboard for dust. I don’t trust her to dust properly when I’m not there to inspect.’

  ‘Very well, Mother.’ Richard gave her hand a limp squeeze.

  She didn’t return the pressure. Withholding approval and affection was the best way of dealing with Richard when he was recalcitrant. It was a method that had always worked, from the time he’d been a little boy.

  She closed her eyes again when he slipped quietly out of the room. She was tired. But triumphant, she thought with satisfaction. Richard wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t selling his legal practice and he wasn’t putting his immortal soul in danger and disgracing the family name by divorcing. The battle had been won. But at what cost?

  A tear trickled down Sarah’s cheek. She’d never been ill in her life. She’d been up and about two days after having Richard, at a time when women stayed in bed ten days and more after a confinement. She had always been strong and fit. Now she hadn’t an ounce of energy and she felt as if she’d been run over by a bus. She’d never taken tablets in her life, now the nurses were giving them to her morning, noon and night and they were making her feel most peculiar. They were causing her to have strange, frightening dreams that disturbed her. But the worst thing of all was that the specialist had told her that she was going to have heart surgery when she was stronger. The idea of being cut open terrified her. She’d be lucky if she didn’t die of fright first, she thought tearfully.

  Stop that now, stop it, she ordered herself. She willed herself to a calmer state. There was to be no more talk of dying. She had no intention of dying. She had no illusions about what would happen if she died. That Caroline, the unscrupulous hussy, would convince Richard that a divorce was the best thing for him. She’d make him sell his practice and probably demand half of the proceeds, money to which she certainly was not entitled, and then she’d go off and leave him for some fancy man. She’d have won! That was unthinkable.

  Another thought struck her. She should add a codicil to her will stating that Richard could only inherit her estate if he never divorced. That would sort that little matter, she thought grimly, as she drifted off into an unsatisfactory drug-induced sleep.

  Richard pulled the collar of his overcoat up to his ears and hunched his shoulders miserably as he walked from the hospital to the car park. It was dark, cold, wet and windy. Litter swirled at his feet. He felt like crying. If only Charles were here to comfort and console him. But Charles, his dearest friend, his only friend, was dead and he was alone.

  A strangled sob erupted from his throat, and he kept his head bent, his chin practically touching his chest, as he hurried towards the car, afraid he would be seen. It was so unmanly to cry. But he didn’t feel manly at all. He never really had. He felt like a lonely, terrified little boy who was completely trapped.

  Charles was the only one who had understood him. Charles was the only one who’d known every intimate thing about him. Only Charles knew how much he really hated his mother. But Charles was gone, dead and buried, taking that sinful secret to the grave.

  Caroline probably knew, of course, she was very perceptive about things like that. She’d always stood up for him against his mother and he’d always resented it, because it made him feel weak and insecure. But at least he didn’t have to put on an act with her. She knew him. And now she was leaving him.

  Why was it that everyone he had ever loved or cared for had left him? he pondered, swallowing hard to try and ease the lump in his throat. His father, whom he’d loved. A gentle, caring man. Charles, who had been a father to him as well as a lover. Both dead. And Caroline, whose gentleness had drawn him to her the first time he’d met her. Even though he’d treated her appallingly, she’d forgiven him and become his friend. And now she was leaving him too. Betraying him, in a way, with all this talk of separation and divorce and moving on. She’d move on and feel contempt for him because he hadn’t had the courage to do what he wanted to. And all because of that witch up in the heart unit.

  Richard sat in his car and put his head in his hands and cried his heart out.

  Caroline dived into the sparkling heated waters of the swimming-pool and swam its length energetically. She’d put in a hard day at work and she needed to unwind, so she’d left her office and taken the lift up to City Girl’s roof-top pool, intent on having a good invigorating swim.

  Staff could use the pool if there were less than ten clients in it at any given time, but senior management like Caroline could use it at will. It was a perk of the job. Tonight it was busy but not overly crowded.

  She swam in rhythmic, even strokes, enjoying the feel of the water on her tense neck muscles. She and Devlin had had a very satisfactory meeting about Galway, and then Andrew had joined them and the fur had started to fly.

  All accountants were the same, she reflected, as she cut through the water on her second lap. No imagination! Quantity at the cost of quality! Andrew couldn’t understand the type of refuge she and Devlin envisaged for the new residential centre. Reiki healing, soma therapy, kinesiology, were all foreign concepts to him. Why couldn’t they stick with the tried and tested acupuncture and reflexology therapies that they’d used so successfully to date, he’d wanted to know. If things went wrong with these strange therapies, would they be sued?

  She knew he had his job to do, but nevertheless she was surprised at how suspicious he’d been.

  ‘Are you sure it’s not quackery?’ he demanded. ‘How can you prove these things work?’

  ‘How can you prove they don’t?’ she’d shot back.

  ‘Oh come on now, Caroline, I know you’re into all this New Age stuff, but really we’re talking about a business here,’ Andrew retorted superciliously.

  ‘Listen, Andrew, why don’t you take a trip out to the RDS the next time the Mind, Body, Spirit exhibition is on and see how jam-packed it is. And see potential clients for City Girl Residential,’ Caroline retorted.

  ‘But they’re all weirdos,’ the accountant declared.

  ‘Andrew, Caroline is right. We’ve got to move with the times. We don’t want to miss the boat on this. We’re being innovative here, so less of the weirdo stuff please,’ Devlin said coolly.

  ‘I see she’s got you brainwashed too.’ He scowled.

  ‘That’s enough, Andrew. These are the going rates for the type of therapies discussed. I’d like you to work out a salary and employment package and see how that fits in with our budget.’

  ‘What does Luke feel about this?’ Andrew persisted.

  Caroline held her breath. Although he didn’t realize it, Andrew had just crossed a boundary line and pushed too far.

  ‘This is my project, Andrew. Luke respects my judgement and backs me all the way. I suggest you do the same. I’d like those estimates today please,’ Devlin ordered, letting him know, in no uncertain terms, who was boss.

  ‘Fine!’ he said tightly, glowered at Caroline and marched from the office.

  He had it in for her now, Caroline knew. She’d had a feeling before this that he resented her considerable input into management decisions, and her friendship with Devlin. It was all ego stuff, his ego stuff, a
nd she wasn’t getting into it, she thought determinedly as she finished another lap. She decided to do a visualization – that always helped considerably when she felt drained of energy because of a confrontation or power struggle. She imagined herself attached to the accountant by seven thin electrical cords, one for each chakra. Slowly, in her mind’s eye, one by one, she unplugged each cord from him and watched him drift away from her. She sent him a blessing, asked for one for herself and immediately felt a sense of detachment from the situation.

  It worked well with Andrew because she wasn’t too pushed about him one way or the other, she reflected wryly, but it didn’t always work when she used it to try and detach from Richard and his mother. Still, she kept trying, and that was the main thing, she assured herself as she eased up and turned on her back and began a leisurely backstroke.

  Richard had thawed a bit in the last few days. But he was miserable and Caroline knew that deep down he was still very angry.

  Each evening after work he went to the hospital and it was often after ten when he got home. He would slump in front of the TV for an hour or two, sometimes making desultory conversation, sometimes not, depending on his humour.

  She refrained from asking him about his mother. It was only a flashpoint between them. Nor had she told him about her decision to look at a property in the coming months. He had enough on his plate, she figured. There was a time and a place for everything.

  He hadn’t been too impressed when she’d told him this morning that she was going out with Olivia for dinner. She could read it in his eyes, as plain as could be.