City Lives

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘She’d be delighted to take the job if the money was good enough. Those sort of people can never get enough money,’ Sarah declared confidently.

  ‘It would be good if she could work longer hours for you.’ Richard stood up and began to pace up and down.

  Sarah suddenly realized that she had made a big mistake. If Hannah Gleeson came to work longer hours, Richard would feel he was off the hook and probably visit less and less.

  ‘Maybe not, though,’ she said hastily. ‘I find her tedious sometimes. We’ll see.’

  ‘But Mother—’

  Sarah raised a hand. ‘Not now, Richard. I’m tired. You may go.’ She used her weaker-than-weak voice.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ Richard didn’t argue. He gave her a lacklustre kiss and hurried out as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

  Sarah lay in bed frowning. What was she to do? How could he even consider allowing her to go home alone? If he was married to any kind of a proper wife she’d ask Sarah to come and stay with them for a while. But that was out of the question, with Madam Caroline. She had burnt her bridges and Sarah would never give her the time of day again.

  She turned to the picture of the Sacred Heart, with a sword piercing Jesus, that hung on the wall opposite the bed. Why had He seen fit to send her this great cross? Had it not been enough to take her dear husband from her and leave her with a young son to rear? A son who had turned into an ungrateful pup who considered her no more than a nuisance.

  ‘It’s too much to expect of a poor soul. Too much, dear Lord. Have mercy,’ she prayed fervently as she reached for her rosary and settled down for the comforting ritual of her nightly prayers.

  Richard’s footsteps echoed down the parquet floor and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of age and infirmity which seeped through the closed bedroom doors and which no amount of disinfectant and polish could disguise. It was an expensive nursing home, no common-or-garden kip for Sarah, but nevertheless it was a depressing place and he hated his visits. He’d end up like his mother, he often thought. Lonely, unwanted, alone. He was riven with conflicting emotions. He wished he could leave her there to rot, yet he felt driven to sit with her, hour after hour, night after night.

  He was certainly going to ask Mrs Gleeson to work longer hours, no matter what his mother said. She was an honest dependable woman and God knows she’d put up with his mother when many more would have simply thrown in the towel.

  Eventually he’d have to get a live-in housekeeper, but that was a bit down the road. One step at a time, he told himself wearily as he got into his car and started the ignition.

  Caroline wasn’t home, he noted twenty minutes later, as he drove into the complex. She’d gone jaunting off to Galway with Devlin Delaney. He had papers to work on. A particularly tough family-law case had been taxing him for the past week and he sorely missed Charles’s expertise and advice.

  He took out the worn faded photo of Charles from his wallet and stared at the much loved face. When did grief go? How long did you have to carry it inside you, twisting your gut, stabbing your heart, aching, needing? The loneliness so fierce it was a physical pain. How was it possible to miss another human so much? How much longer could he carry on this façade of a life, without going mad?

  He put the photo back in his wallet. Charles was gone and nothing was ever going to bring him back. He was on his own.

  ‘Face it,’ he growled as he took his briefcase and locked the car.

  He read Caroline’s note on the hall table.

  She was having dinner with that estate-agent friend of hers, no doubt plotting what property to buy.

  Hadn’t she the carefree life? he thought resentfully as he flung his briefcase onto the sofa and poured himself a double brandy. It was the least he deserved. First thing tomorrow he was going to contact Hannah Gleeson. She could name her price. Anything would be worth it to get Sarah off his back.

  Thirty-two

  ‘I’ll see you on Sunday evening.’ Caroline stood at the door of the kitchen with her coat on, ready to depart for her weekend away with the girls. Richard sat at the table drinking black coffee. He barely acknowledged her goodbye.

  ‘Richard, please stop being like this. It makes life very uncomfortable. It’s so unnecessary. It’s not my fault that your plans didn’t work out. Please stop taking it out on me.’ Caroline was at her wit’s end. How much longer could this awful coolness between them last? Why couldn’t he make the effort? Didn’t it bother him?

  ‘Well, you’ll be moving out soon. So what do you care?’ Richard said sulkily.

  ‘Richard, don’t be so childish,’ Caroline said in exasperation. ‘You were OK with it when you were supposed to be moving to Boston. We discussed it over and over. Just because your plans changed why should mine?’

  ‘That’s right. Think of yourself. Me. Me. Me,’ Richard sneered.

  ‘Oh forget it.’ Caroline turned on her heel and walked out. If she stayed to argue the toss any more there’d be a full-scale row. He’d done enough already to ensure she couldn’t go off to Powerscourt Springs with an easy mind.

  Disheartened, she picked up her case in the hall and closed the door behind her. If Richard wanted to hold a grudge and keep her frozen out there was nothing she could do about it. She visualized him surrounded by light, and did the same for herself, as she descended to the foyer in the lift. The more attention you gave to negative energy like that, the bigger it grew. She had the choice to carry it with her for the weekend or let it go and not link into it.

  Caroline took a deep breath. This was her weekend. She’d been looking forward to it for ages. Richard had to deal with his stuff, she couldn’t do it for him. She’d tried to make up and he wouldn’t make the effort.

  ‘Forget it, now,’ she told herself very firmly. She was going to enjoy every second of her time with the girls and try and put all thoughts of her unhappy situation out of her head.

  Richard stood at the kitchen window and watched Caroline reverse her car over to Devlin’s apartment block. He was filled with resentment and rage. His mother was in a nursing home putting him under fierce pressure. He’d had to cancel his plans to go to Boston and live a life unencumbered with all the trials that weighed him down here. And did Caroline give a damn? She did not.

  It obviously didn’t bother her that he was miserable and unhappy. She was far too busy enjoying life. Socializing with Olivia O’Neill night after night. Waltzing off to a health farm with that other pair. Viewing properties. Making plans to ditch him and leave him alone to get through his ordeals by himself.

  Mrs Bloody Gleeson had been on holidays when he’d phoned last week. She was due back this weekend. Holidays! Benidorm! A funny time to be going on holidays. She’d probably got a cheapie off season. Maybe it was a good thing though, he mused as he rinsed his cup under the tap. She might be skint and in dire need of money. She had to agree to his offer. It was imperative that Sarah have full-time daily care. Hannah Gleeson was the best woman for the job.

  ‘Have a ball, Devlin. Tell Caroline and Maggie to do the same. And take it easy. Rest up. Don’t be doing aerobics and toning and that kind of stuff.’ Luke enveloped her in a bear-hug.

  Devlin laughed. ‘I’ve no intentions of doing aerobics. A swim in the pool is the most energetic thing I plan to do. Besides, I got enough exercise this morning, Mr Sex On Legs.’

  Luke’s eyes twinkled. ‘I don’t have time to go to a gym. You have to keep me fit. It’s your wifely duty.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘It was good, though. Wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah it was.’ Devlin snuggled in close. Luke bent his head and kissed her, his tongue probing and teasing as his hands slid up under her jumper and cupped her breasts.

  Devlin responded instantly, her nipples hardening under his erotic feather-like touch as his fingers slipped inside the flimsy material of her bra. Quivers of desire shot through her and she pulled away, breathless.

  ‘Will you stop it, Reilly,’ she protested, gr
inning. ‘You’re making me horny.’

  ‘What do you think you’re doing to me,’ Luke said huskily as he held her tighter against him. She could feel his hardness and it turned her on.

  ‘Oh Luke, that’s not fair!’ Devlin muttered as she drew his head down and kissed him passionately and then pulled him down onto the carpet.

  ‘Wanton woman.’ Luke grinned as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off, and groaned as she wrapped her legs around him.

  It was quick and passionate and thoroughly satisfying. Devlin lay panting in his arms afterwards, grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Not bad for an old married couple,’ she murmured breathlessly.

  ‘Just ring the undertakers for me, now. You have me worn out, woman.’ Luke kissed the top of her nose.

  ‘You started it,’ Devlin said indignantly.

  ‘I only kissed you.’ Luke feigned innocence.

  ‘And you did other things. And you know how my wits desert me when you do those things to me.’ Devlin buried her face in his neck. She loved his neck. It was such a strong, solid neck. A manly neck.

  The doorbell shrilled.

  ‘Oh crumbs! Quick, let me up! It’s Caroline.’ Devlin started to laugh as she pushed Luke off her and pulled on her briefs and jeans.

  ‘Look at the head on you. Brush your hair for God’s sake! And don’t forget the back of it. It’s always a dead give-away.’ Luke couldn’t hide his amusement.

  Devlin hurried over to the intercom. ‘I’ll be down in two seconds, Caroline.’

  ‘No hurry, the car’s out the front,’ her friend’s voice echoed tinnily through the intercom.

  Five minutes later, hair brushed, eyes and cheeks glowing, Devlin emerged on to the steps of the apartment block. Luke followed with her case, which he stowed in the boot that Caroline had already opened.

  He kissed Caroline affectionately and she returned his hug.

  ‘Girls, there’s no need to tell you to have fun. That’s a given. Caroline, don’t be surprised if she’s talking to you one minute and she’s asleep the next. It can be very disconcerting. And for God’s sake don’t talk business. That Galway person is not to be mentioned. Work is out of bounds.’

  Caroline laughed. ‘Whatever you say, Luke. You know Devlin always does what I tell her to.’

  ‘Lucky you, she never does what I tell her to. But I love her all the same.’ Luke held the car door open for Devlin. ‘See you Sunday,’ he said. His eyes were warm and loving and Devlin felt completely happy.

  ‘He’s lovely, Dev. You’re very lucky,’ Caroline said as she drove to the security gates.

  ‘I know,’ Devlin acknowledged. ‘It just gets better and better. I’m crazy about him.’ She turned to Caroline. ‘How was Richard? Any improvement?’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘No. He has to blame someone because everything’s gone wrong. And at the moment that someone is me. The sooner I move out the better. After this weekend I’m going to go serious house-hunting.’

  ‘Us too,’ Devlin said. ‘The only thing is that we’ve decided to hang onto the apartment until the house is completely ready to move into. So if we buy a second-hand house and have to redecorate I won’t be stuck with builders and painters and plasterers and whatever.’

  ‘You’re right. That would be an awful pain in the butt, especially with a new baby to look after. It’s a nice option to have.’

  ‘Are you going to go for something new or secondhand?’ Devlin asked as Caroline drove out onto the main road.

  ‘I don’t know yet. I’m just hoping that I’ll see something and know that it’s perfect for me.’

  ‘It’s a lousy time to be buying property. The prices are astronomical,’ Devlin reflected.

  ‘I know. Just my luck. We missed the boat there, didn’t we?’ Caroline smiled wryly at her.

  ‘Successful businesswomen, my hat! And we’re going to end up paying a fortune for property. We’ll need to work twice as hard to pay the mortgages.’ Devlin grinned. ‘I hope the successful author is all ready for the weekend.’

  ‘Well, if anyone needs a pampery weekend, she does.’ Caroline turned left at Copeland Avenue and headed for the M50 to collect Maggie.

  ‘I’ve taken a chicken casserole out of the freezer to defrost for your dinner tonight,’ Maggie informed her husband as she sat at the kitchen table sewing a button that had just fallen off, onto the sleeve of Michael’s school shirt.

  ‘And what’s for tomorrow and Sunday?’ Terry scraped the merest hint of low-fat spread onto his one slice of toast. Secretly Maggie was impressed. He’d really stuck to his diet and it showed. He’d lost over a stone and had toned up considerably. She begrudged him every ounce of his weight loss.

  ‘You’re going to Fort Lucan tomorrow, I presumed that you’d be treating the kids to a meal out. And Sunday you can cook what you like. There’s lamb and beef in the freezer,’ Maggie said coolly.

  ‘Cook!’ Terry looked at her askance. ‘Did you not cook up a meal and freeze it?’

  ‘I cook practically three hundred and sixty-five days a year, Terry, it won’t kill you to have to get a meal ready for one day.’ Maggie bit the end of the thread and wound it around the button.

  ‘There you go, Michael.’ She handed the shirt to her son, who was standing in his pants and vest.

  ‘Thanks, Mam. You are coming back on Sunday, aren’t you?’ His big blue eyes looked at her solemnly.

  ‘Of course I am, pet. I’m just going away with Devlin and Caroline for the weekend. Of course I’m coming home. Where else would I be going, you silly billy?’

  ‘Just checking that it wasn’t for a longer time,’ he explained earnestly. But Maggie understood the reasoning behind his questioning. There was still an underlying insecurity in Michael that went back to their separation. No doubt he’d picked up on the cool atmosphere between herself and Terry of late. Michael was an awful worrier. God knows what notions were running around that head of his.

  ‘I’ll ring you every night from the health farm and I’ll bring you back a present,’ she promised.

  ‘Thanks, Mam.’ Michael flung his arms around her and she held him tight, his cow-lick brushing her cheek, his face sticky from his porridge and honey.

  ‘Go and wash your face before you put your shirt on.’ She smiled at him and loved him with all her heart.

  ‘Mam, Lisa Dunne is having a slumber party tomorrow night. Can I go to it?’ Mimi twirled into the kitchen in her ballet shoes.

  ‘Ask Daddy, he’s minding you tomorrow.’ Maggie glanced at Terry. Let him do a bit of parenting for a change.

  ‘Can I, Dad?’

  ‘Are there any boys at it?’ Terry asked, sternly.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Dad. What would we want boys at a slumber party for? It’s for girls. It’s for fun!’ Mimi said indignantly, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the idea.

  Maggie hid a grin. Thank God her elder daughter wasn’t into boys yet.

  Terry arched an eyebrow at Maggie.

  ‘It’s fine with me. The Dunnes are a nice family.’

  ‘OK,’ Terry agreed and was rewarded with a kiss from Mimi.

  ‘Tomorrow is going to be a perfect day,’ she declared. ‘Fort Lucan and a slumber party.’

  ‘Can Kerry come and stay the night if Mimi’s going to a slumber party?’ Shona lifted her head from a puzzle on the back of the cornflakes box that she was trying to work out.

  Terry shook his head at Maggie. ‘Not a good idea if you’re not here,’ he murmured.

  ‘No love, Daddy will have enough on his hands, but I bet he’d let you get some videos,’ Maggie said brightly.

  ‘But I want Kerry to stay, ’cos she’s my best friend.’ Shona pouted.

  ‘I know, pet. When I come back, we’ll have her over to stay,’ Maggie soothed.

  ‘Mimi gets everything she wants and I get nothing!’ Shona stomped out in high dudgeon.

  ‘I just think it’s better, considering the day and age that we live in, for yo
u to be here when the girls’ friends are staying over,’ Terry pointed out.

  ‘You’re right. It’s terrible. But what can you do?’ Maggie shook her head. For once they were in accord over something.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make a fuss of her, she’ll be fine.’ Terry shrugged into his suit jacket, picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.

  ‘Will you be leaving your mobile switched on?’ he asked.

  ‘No. How could I if I’m having treatments done? Or if I’m in the pool or Jacuzzi.’

  ‘It’s well for some,’ he remarked dryly.

  ‘I’ll phone the kids at night. You can leave a message for me if you have to. I’ll check them every so often.’ Maggie ignored his tone.

  ‘Fine. See you Sunday. What time will you be home?’

  ‘Whenever,’ Maggie said evenly. She was damned if she was tying herself down to a time.

  Terry scowled, and walked out of the kitchen. She heard the front door close.

  ‘I’ll have a wonderful time. Thank you so much for your good wishes,’ she muttered under her breath as she cleared dirty porridge dishes off the table and began to stack the dishwasher. Josie her cleaning lady would be here any minute but Maggie hated her coming into a mess and always tried to have the breakfast dishes cleared away before she arrived.

  Three-quarters of an hour later her three children were safely deposited at the school gates, and then and only then did Maggie finally feel a sense of anticipation creep up on her.

  She drove quickly home and just as she was entering the cul-de-sac Orla Noonan was driving out. Orla nearly got a crick in her neck turning away.

  ‘Up yours,’ said Maggie, unimpressed. Orla was for the birds and she could fly away with them for all Maggie cared. She was going away with friends. Real friends. She pulled up in the drive and hurried into the house, anxious to be ready when the girls arrived.

  She checked her case to make sure she had everything and glanced at her laptop, neatly put away in its travel bag.

  Should she or shouldn’t she?

  She was going on a break, she reasoned. That meant a break from writing as well as family. Only it would be the ideal opportunity to fit in a few hours’ writing in peace and quiet with no interruptions. She was desperately anxious to get the book finished. She was on the last lap. Another thirty thousand words and she’d be done.