City Lives

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘I don’t believe it! There must be a mistake, Andrew.’ Devlin was shocked. ‘None of the girls would do anything like that.’

  ‘Something’s going on,’ he reiterated.

  ‘But who do you think is doing it? Or is there more than one? How? Why? This is terrible.’

  ‘Well, you heard what Liz said. It sounds like Ciara is implicated,’ Andrew said slowly.

  ‘But she wouldn’t do anything like that. She couldn’t. She’s an excellent manageress. She’s done a great job in Galway,’ Devlin exclaimed, unable to believe that the friendly, competent, stylish young woman who’d run Galway City Girl since its inception would be involved in dishonest business practice. It was unthinkable. Devlin had spent a lot of time in meetings and on the phone with Ciara in the past few months, and she’d been full of enthusiasm and plans for the new extension. Very much a company woman.

  ‘Maybe someone with a grudge made that phone call,’ Devlin suggested agitatedly.

  ‘Something’s not right with the figures, Devlin, I’ve had a feeling over the last quarter that something was going on but I wanted to make sure. We have to investigate it. Better to nip it in the bud now,’ Andrew said crisply. ‘Why don’t you ring that woman and see what she has to say?’

  ‘OK,’ Devlin said slowly. ‘I just can’t believe that any of the staff would rip us off.’

  ‘Devlin, we’re not living in nirvana, unfortunately. Given the opportunity there’s plenty of people out there ready to rip you off. Honesty in business is rare and you’re lucky that you haven’t come up against a crooked cookie before now. I’m going to see about putting someone in place to keep an eye on things. You call that woman.’ Andrew hurried out of her office, anxious to get moving on the problem.

  Devlin buzzed Liz on the intercom and asked her for the caller’s number. She dialled with a hint of apprehension. She had a feeling that all was not going to be well.

  A clear, well-modulated tone answered. ‘Willowfield House. Hello?’

  ‘Could I speak to Mrs Charlotte Adams please?’ Devlin asked politely.

  ‘Speaking,’ came the crisp reply.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Adams, my name is Devlin Delaney, I own City Girl. I believe you’ve had a problem booking a treatment. Perhaps I could help.’

  ‘Oh . . . Oh yes, hello. Thank you for calling back,’ the woman responded coolly. ‘Well, I think you should know that there are some difficulties trying to book treatments.’

  ‘It’s a very busy centre,’ Devlin pointed out.

  ‘I realize that. But I’ve heard this discussed at lunches and dinners and indeed at my bridge club and tennis club, and it seems from what I can gather that if one is a friend of the manageress, there’s no problem booking in. And seemingly some of the ladies have even had treatments on Sundays when the place is closed. How does one get into this clique? There’s nothing I’d like better than a facial on a Sunday afternoon. I must say I’m not at all impressed, Miss Delaney.’

  Devlin’s eyes were out on stalks at her caller’s information. Treatments being carried out on a Sunday! What on earth was going on? She gave no hint of her disquiet, however.

  ‘I’ll phone them myself and make sure you get an appointment, Mrs Adams. And I’d like you to have another treatment of your choice with our compliments. I’ll inform reception in Galway,’ Devlin responded courteously.

  ‘Oh . . . well . . . That’s most kind of you.’ The tone became less snooty. ‘I’m sorry to complain of course, it’s rather irritating to have to do so. I know that Hanlon girl gives treatments in people’s homes and I’m sure I could have booked her for one of them, but it’s not quite the same as going in and having one in the luxury of City Girl’s surroundings, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do indeed,’ Devlin said evenly. ‘I’m sorry that you’ve experienced delays. I’ll sort it this morning. If you care to ring reception after lunch they’ll be able to book you in. Thank you for calling.’

  ‘Not at all. Thank you for dealing with my complaint.’ Charlotte Adams sounded much happier as she hung up but Devlin was extremely troubled as she put the receiver back. Her finger pressed another button on the console and Andrew’s voice came down the line.

  ‘Yes Devlin?’

  ‘You’d better come in here, Andrew. Things seem to be going from bad to worse,’ she said heavily.

  The accountant’s face grew grim a few minutes later as she relayed details of her phone call.

  ‘Using the premises on Sunday, that would account for the rise in light and heating bills. It would also account for the extra oils, waxes, and so on. I wonder does Madam Hanlon use her own supply of products when she’s making her private calls, or does she use City Girl stock?’

  ‘I can’t believe it, Andrew. We gave her a great bonus this year and a brand-new car. Could there be a mistake?’

  ‘Well, I’ve double- and treble-checked the figures and something’s definitely wrong. It justifies an internal audit. But I want to catch Ms Hanlon red-handed. I know a firm who specializes in this kind of thing. I think we’ll give them a shout.’ He paced up and down, frowning.

  ‘Will I say anything to Ciara about that Adams woman’s complaint?’ Devlin asked.

  ‘Pass it off lightly. We don’t want to get her suspicions up,’ Andrew instructed.

  ‘Maybe I should get Liz to phone reception and not speak to Ciara at all.’

  ‘Good thinking, Devlin. If you were involved it would look as serious as it is and, as I say, we don’t want Ciara Hanlon getting wind that anything is up. I’m setting up the investigation immediately. The sooner it’s sorted the better, especially with the new development starting soon.’

  ‘We’ll have to give her the sack if we prove that she’s ripping us off.’

  ‘Yeah. And you’re going to need someone good to take over down there. Someone you can really depend on. You’d better start thinking of a few names to put in the hat.’

  ‘Right. Keep me up to date on any developments. I’ll talk to Luke tonight or maybe I’ll wait until tomorrow. I don’t want him coming home to bad news, he’s busy enough as it is.’ Devlin was despondent.

  ‘Don’t take it personally, Devlin. These things happen in business,’ Andrew advised.

  ‘But I do take it personally, Andrew. Just because it’s business is no excuse to steal from people and treat them like dirt. I gave that girl a position of trust. I paid her well. And gave her excellent perks. And she can smile at me and be nice to my face and pretend that she has my company’s business at heart and all the time she is stealing from me. Stabbing me in the back. Being as two-faced as they come. I take that very personally, Andrew. There isn’t one set of morals for business and another for relationships. It’s all the one to me. I don’t differentiate between business and personal relationships in the way I treat people. It’s no different stealing from the business me and the private me. It’s all the one and it’s dishonest. There’s no grey area in between,’ Devlin raged. ‘And don’t tell me ever to get used to it because I won’t.’

  ‘I agree with you, Devlin,’ Andrew said calmly, ‘but you have to face facts, unfortunately. As I say, you’re lucky that this is your first taste of . . . for want of a better word . . . fraud.’

  ‘Well, I hope it’s my last,’ Devlin snapped. She glowered at the accountant.

  ‘Talk to you later.’ He ignored her anger.

  ‘Sorry, Andrew,’ Devlin apologized for outburst. It wasn’t her accountant’s fault that Ciara Hanlon might be a thief. It wasn’t fair to take it out on him. But it left a sour taste in her mouth.

  ‘We’ll sort it out, Devlin. Don’t let it get to you too much is the best advice I can offer you. When you leave the office today put it out of your head.’

  Devlin knew he was right. Taking work problems home was the worst thing to do. When she’d opened City Girl she’d lived and breathed it morning, noon, and night. It had almost cost her her relationship with Luke. You had to have boundaries.
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  She took a few deep breaths to try and get her anger under control. She was so mad with Ciara Hanlon she felt like getting on the next flight to Galway and confronting her with her treachery.

  When she’d calmed down somewhat, she told Liz to ring Galway and organize the treatments for Charlotte Adams, and tried to put the problem aside for the rest of the day.

  The traffic was so bad that evening that Luke was home before her, had the table set and the side salad prepared ready to accompany the steak she intended to serve.

  ‘Hi, you look fraught,’ he remarked as she dumped her briefcase in the hall and hurried into the kitchen to greet him.

  ‘The traffic was woeful. I thought I’d have been home before you, sorry about that, Luke.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. The flight landed ten minutes early due to tail winds and the traffic from the airport was light enough at my end. I didn’t have to cross town like you. Come here, wife, and kiss and hug me.’ He caught her to him and enveloped her in a bear-hug. Devlin sank into his embrace gratefully. Luke was so solid and strong. When he had his arms around her nothing ever seemed as bad as she thought it was.

  ‘I hope you’re not overdoing it. You look tired—’

  ‘Now, Luke . . .’ Devlin admonished.

  ‘Sorry.’ He held up a hand.

  ‘I’m pregnant. It’s not an illness. It’s a perfectly natural process.’

  ‘I know. Don’t give out to me. I just worry about you.’ Luke rested his chin on her head.

  ‘Well thank you, I know you do and that’s nice to know. But I’m fine, really. The traffic was heavy and I was busy at work today but now I’m ready to flop with my gorgeous, kind, sexy husband.’

  Luke laughed. ‘OK! OK. I’ll get the dinner.’

  Devlin grinned. ‘Well, you are gorgeous and kind and sexy but I suppose seeing as I am pregnant I could put my feet up . . .’

  ‘Go on in and flop. Dinner won’t be long,’ Luke instructed.

  ‘Ah, let’s get it together. It’s more fun.’ Devlin leaned up and kissed him, just wanting to be with him.

  ‘You sit on the stool and butter the French stick then,’ Luke suggested as he prepared the baked potatoes.

  They chatted companionably, filling each other in on the events of the previous days. Luke had been in London since Sunday and Devlin reflected how much she missed him on the days he was away and how empty the apartment was without him. It was the pattern of their life but it would have to change now that she was pregnant.

  She didn’t say anything about Ciara Hanlon and the trouble at Galway, there was time enough for that. All she wanted to do right now was relax with her husband and switch off. Andrew was absolutely right about not bringing work home. She pushed all thoughts of City Girl from her mind. Caroline was always saying how important it was to live for the moment.

  This was her moment with Luke. Nothing was more important than that.

  Twenty-two

  The following morning the alarm clock woke her and she stretched out her hand to switch it off. Luke did likewise, reaching across her. Their hands reached the clock together. Devlin laughed. ‘Morning,’ she murmured drowsily as she turned and burrowed her face against him, the dark tangle of hair that covered his chest soft against her cheek.

  ‘Morning,’ he murmured back, holding her close. They lay, arms around each other, snoozing contentedly.

  ‘I really don’t feel like getting up,’ Devlin mumbled after a while.

  ‘Let’s go on the mitch,’ Luke suggested lazily.

  ‘What!’ Devlin exclaimed, intrigued.

  ‘Let’s bunk off and have a day to ourselves. We deserve it.’

  ‘But I’ve meetings.’ Devlin sighed.

  ‘There she goes. My little workaholic. Meetings can be cancelled. The world won’t stop revolving because Devlin Delaney missed a meeting, you know. Hard and all as it is to believe,’ Luke teased.

  ‘But Luke, that’s no way to run a business. You wouldn’t do it if we were in London,’ she protested.

  ‘I might, if I thought I was going on a dirty date with a sexy woman.’

  ‘A dirty date . . . What dirty date?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Are you going to lighten up and be a bit spontaneous instead of being little-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes-Career-Woman?’ Luke leaned on his elbow and looked down at her sternly.

  Devlin laughed. She loved Luke’s boyish streak. He always nipped it in the bud when she took herself too seriously.

  ‘So we’re going on a dirty date? Where?’ Her eyes danced.

  ‘Wait and see.’

  ‘Don’t be such a rotter. Tell me,’ she demanded, pummelling him. Luke retaliated by tickling her unmercifully.

  ‘Stop it, stop it,’ she shrieked between guffaws.

  ‘Am I a rotter?’

  ‘No . . . No . . . you’re a mad bastard,’ she giggled.

  ‘That’s my wife . . . the lady.’ Luke kissed her on the nose.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I told you, on a dirty date. Now let’s go and have some breakfast and get going.’ He got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. Devlin could see a deep pink streak in the eastern sky and the sun, a pale wintry yellow sphere as it rose on the horizon. It was a crisp clear morning that promised a fine day. She suddenly felt light-hearted. Imagine spending a whole day with Luke when they should be at work. What a treat.

  She slid out of bed and put her arms around him.

  ‘You know, you’re very good at marriage,’ she remarked.

  ‘Am I?’ He looked at her quizzically.

  ‘You’re much better than me at making time for us. I’d never have thought of taking a day off mid-week in a million years.’

  ‘Life’s too short, Devlin. It’s allowed to have fun, you know.’

  ‘I’m so lucky, Luke. Poor Caroline has never had what we’ve got and Maggie and Terry are poles apart now.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s sad. Terry’s crazy to treat Maggie the way he does. He’ll never find another woman like her. And those poor kids. He doesn’t deserve them. I can’t understand men who won’t spend time with their children. I can’t wait for our child to be born. And you’re right, Devlin, we’re lucky and we’re always going to have fun days, you and me. Let’s always make time for us, no matter how many children or how many businesses we have. And let’s spend lots of time with our child.’ Luke was serious as he took her face between his hands.

  ‘I love you.’ Devlin wrapped her arms around him. She felt completely happy. ‘Take me back to bed and let’s start the day properly . . .’

  Two hours later they were driving under the M50 towards the North Road. ‘Where are we going, Luke?’ Devlin was consumed with curiosity.

  ‘Patience, woman. We’ll be there shortly.’

  ‘Well it can’t be Belfast, you’d never take this route. You’d go by the airport. This is the road to Ashbourne. Are we going to Ashbourne? Why would you want to go to Ashbourne?’ Devlin’s brow furrowed as she tried to work out where they were going.

  ‘Come on, tell me,’ she wheedled.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Why did you want me to wear my jeans?’

  ‘I told you, we’re going on a dirty date,’ he said infuriatingly as they sped along the busy road.

  ‘Why are we going down this side road?’ Devlin was utterly flummoxed as Luke turned left and they drove down a narrow tree-lined country road.

  Luke pulled onto the verge. ‘Stay there for a minute,’ he instructed. She watched as he opened the boot but she couldn’t see what he was doing.

  Moments later he was standing at her door, grinning at her expression, a pair of green wellington boots in his hand. He was already wearing his. ‘Here, put these on.’

  ‘Luke, would you tell me what’s going on?’ Devlin unzipped her ankle boots and pulled on the wellies.

  ‘We’re going to walk the land, wife.’

  Devlin laughed. ‘Is that right, husband?’ She got out of the car and he
tucked her arm in his.

  ‘What do you think of this field?’ he asked as he led her through a green iron gate.

  ‘It’s mucky,’ Devlin said doubtfully as she sank to her ankles in thick creamy mud. ‘What’s so important about this field anyway?’

  ‘This, my dear girl, is going to be my next project. It’s for sale, it’s been rezoned for building so I’m going to buy it and build houses on it. And you know the land my father left me in Meath? I’m going to do the same there. It’s just an excuse to spend more time at home with you.’

  ‘Oh Luke, that’s brilliant! I hate sleeping on my own at night. You’re such a good snuggler, you know.’ Devlin’s face creased into a broad smile.

  ‘You’re very good for my ego, Dev.’ Luke smiled back at her.

  ‘But sure I love you. It’s as simple as that.’ Devlin squeezed his hand as they began walking along the boundary.

  ‘Do you know what I’ve always loved about you, Devlin? You’re dead straight. You don’t play games. I always know where I stand with you.’

  ‘But Luke, you’re easy to be straight with. You’re the most honest and the most decent man I ever met. And you know I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad now that I went through all that heartbreak and grief with Colin, because every day I’m with you I thank God for the gift of your love. If I hadn’t gone through what I did, I don’t think I’d really appreciate what I have now the way I do. And I’ll never take it for granted. I’m really, really happy, Luke.’

  ‘Me too,’ Luke said as his arm tightened around her. They walked along the edge of the field listening to the birds chirruping in the crisp late autumn morning. They breathed the rich fresh country air with relish.

  It was like being in another world. Devlin relaxed, letting the residue of guilt about taking the day off work flow away. Luke was right. Life was too short. Time together was precious. A cottage nestled into a small grove of trees in the adjoining field. A thin plume of smoke curled from the chimney. Devlin marvelled at how rural the scene was, so close to the capital.