City Lives

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘It’s a beauty!’ Maggie congratulated Luke.

  ‘I know,’ he said smugly.

  ‘Andy Madigan!’ Sulaiman made a beeline for his colleague and was embraced in a giant bear-hug by the red-bearded six-footer.

  ‘Sulaiman Al Shariff, when are you going to leave that safe little job of yours and come over here and do some cutting-edge stuff?’

  ‘Ha,’ scoffed Sulaiman. ‘When are you going to be a big boy and leave Mammy’s apron strings and come to the desert and sit under starry skies drinking home-made liquor?’

  ‘Sure I can do that on Dollymount strand.’ Andy laughed.

  ‘Alma, what a divine dress. Welcome home for Christmas.’ Mary Madigan kissed the younger woman warmly. ‘Did you know that Wendy Gaffney’s gone out to Saudi as a theatre sister?’

  ‘Yes would you believe, I bumped into her in the souk and . . .’

  ‘That’s Alma and Sulaiman taken care of,’ Devlin murmured out of the side of her mouth, as she put a hand in the small of Maggie’s back and propelled her towards the window.

  The doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it, I know you two are just bursting to have a little natter,’ Luke offered.

  ‘I’m going to get a beer, this fizzy stuff does nothing for me.’ Terry drained his glass.

  ‘Come with me old son, there’s beer, shorts, anything you want.’ Luke pointed him in the direction of the bar, set up in the dining-room and staffed by a pixie-faced little waitress.

  ‘Nice waitress,’ Terry approved.

  ‘That’s Terry taken care of,’ Maggie said dryly. ‘He’ll be off to practice his charms on her. Poor thing.’

  ‘You look fantastic, Maggie,’ Devlin eyed her friend up and down. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Maggie was delighted. ‘You know they’re the three best words in the English language. Better even than “I love you.”’

  ‘Depends who’s saying the “I love you.”’ Devlin’s eyes strayed towards Luke, who was laughing heartily at something the new arrivals at his side had said.

  ‘Still mad about him after all these years?’ Maggie smiled down at her friend.

  ‘I’m so lucky,’ Devlin said simply. ‘Can you see my bump?’ she asked expectantly.

  Maggie laughed at the tiny rounded curve of tummy that Devlin was so proud of.

  ‘Dear, if I had a tummy that size I’d be ecstatic,’ she said acerbically.

  Devlin laughed. ‘Ah stop it, you know what I mean.’

  ‘I’m telling you it’s a boy! You’re carrying to the back.’ Maggie had had this conversation a dozen times before.

  ‘Do you really think so? I was huge with Lynn. I waddled!’ Devlin gazed down at her little protrusion.

  ‘Definitely!’ Maggie said firmly.

  ‘I feel great. That tiredness just vanished. It actually happened the weekend we were away in Powerscourt Springs.’ Devlin took an onion tartlet from the canapés tray resting on a side-table and demolished it in two bites.

  ‘It’s an awful shame Caroline’s not here. It’s weird driving past the apartment.’ Maggie selected a smoked-salmon-mousse delicacy and munched away.

  ‘At least she’s settled into Galway. And she’s so busy she doesn’t have time to dwell on things too much. She won’t come home to Dublin for Christmas. Her father wants her to stay. We want her to stay. But she’s adamant. She’s staying on her own in Galway. I just don’t understand it. If I were in her shoes I’d want to be with my loved ones.’ Devlin sighed and bit into a stuffed mushroom.

  ‘She can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes when she gets a notion. But you know Caroline. She’s very self-sufficient. She likes solitude.’ Maggie went for a tiny portion of crispy duck.

  ‘It seems so lonely. I kind of feel guilty because I asked her to go to Galway.’

  ‘Don’t, Dev. It was the best thing you could have done for her,’ Maggie said firmly as she licked her fingers. ‘For God’s sake get these things away from me before I eat the whole tray. It’s a great party and thanks a million for having it. It will be the highlight of the visit. I was going to do a small dinner the night before they go but I told Terry we’ll have to go to a restaurant. You couldn’t have a little soirée in peace with those kids. They’d be up and down whinging and whining, looking for drinks. Looking for stories. It wouldn’t be worth it. So we’ll eat out. Will you and Luke come?’

  ‘We’d love to. They seem to be in good form. That’s a super dress that Alma’s wearing,’ Devlin remarked.

  ‘Don’t talk to me about that dress.’ Maggie made a face. ‘I’ve got the blisters on my feet still. Hasn’t she a fabulous figure though. I’d give anything to have a figure like that.’ Maggie sighed. Alma was perched on the arm of a sofa with her legs crossed to give the best view of her thigh. A cluster of men stood around her, entertaining her. She was like a queen bee.

  ‘She wears her make-up very heavy though. That lip pencil went out with the button boots. Very drag-queeny around the mouth! And that Farah Fawcett blonde hair went out in the Eighties,’ Devlin observed.

  Maggie snorted. ‘You bitch, Delaney. Terry thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. She prances downstairs every morning in this black wispy thing that floats around her and shows off her boobs. He’s shameless. He just sits there looking at them and of course she’s sticking them out all over the place. I don’t know how Sulaiman puts up with the way she behaves.’

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t care,’ Devlin said.

  ‘Oh he does, I think. She told me that he couldn’t get it up any more and it’s as if she flaunts herself to let him see what he’s missing. It’s a weird relationship. Almost as weird as me and Terry.’ She made a face.

  ‘Things no better?’

  ‘No. The pretence is over. I told you, as soon as I get the book handed in, I’m getting my own room up in the attic,’ Maggie said firmly.

  ‘Oh look, here’s Janice Sullivan. We’re in for a laugh. I’m really glad she could come. She and Alma always get on great at the barbecues. I’d better go and start circulating for a while. I’m being so rude. As soon as your visitors are gone we’ll try and have our Christmas lunch. Caroline has to come up to Dublin to sort out some business stuff and she wants to scatter Richard’s ashes on Killiney Hill. We’ll fix it for then,’ Devlin suggested as Janice bore down on them.

  ‘Girls! Wait until I tell you. I don’t know if you’ve heard,’ Janice was bursting to tell them some snippet of gossip she’d picked up. ‘Paula Walls has left Dan and has gone to live with Norma Kennedy . . . as a couple!’

  ‘What!’

  Devlin and Maggie exclaimed simultaneously. This was gossip of the highest order.

  ‘Yes it’s true.’ Janice was highly satisfied with the impact her bombshell had made. ‘Seemingly . . .’ She went on to regale her two friends with the steamy details of Dublin’s latest society scandal.

  It was that sort of party.

  By eleven everything was humming along, chat and laughter raising the rafters. A magnificent buffet of hot and cold food had been served and Maggie was delightfully tipsy.

  She was having a ball chatting with friends of hers and Devlin’s whom she hadn’t seen for ages. She was talking to an interior-designer friend of theirs when Sulaiman came up to her, looking extremely agitated.

  ‘Can I interrupt you for a moment, Maggie?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, surprised. ‘Excuse me, Rosie.’ She moved away to a quiet corner.

  ‘What’s wrong – is everything OK?’ Sulaiman’s eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed. He’d been drinking quite heavily.

  ‘No, Maggie, everything is not OK,’ he said distractedly, his accent becoming more pronounced. ‘My wife and your husband are in a room down the hall and they have been there for the past fifteen minutes. I’m going to go in.’

  Maggie felt her stomach lurch. She’d hardly noticed Terry all evening, she’d been too busy enjoying herself.

  ‘You’re making a mis
take, Sulaiman. I’m sure you are,’ she murmured, scanning the room to see if there was any sign of the two. ‘Are they in the dining-room?’

  ‘I’m telling you, Maggie, that slut has gone into a room with Terry, I saw them with my own eyes. And he is supposed to be my friend.’

  His voice was getting louder.

  ‘Shush, Suly. You must be mistaken,’ Maggie said in desperation, sure that Terry wouldn’t be so stupid as to go canoodling with Alma at Devlin’s party.

  ‘I’m not mistaken,’ Sulaiman raged. ‘And I will prove it to you.’ He barrelled down the room towards the door, with Maggie in tow.

  ‘Is everything OK, Maggie?’ Luke was at her side. He’d seen Sulaiman’s agitated conversation.

  ‘No, Luke. He thinks Alma and Terry are in a room together. He’s going to cause a scene,’ Maggie whispered as she hurried after Sulaiman.

  ‘This is the room,’ Sulaiman announced at the top of his voice and shoved open the door.

  Maggie nearly died. Terry was groaning on top of Alma, on the bed, and she had her long legs wrapped tightly around his back.

  Sulaiman’s face darkened terrifyingly and he made a lunge at Terry.

  ‘You bastard!’ he roared.

  Alma screamed.

  ‘Hold on now, Sulaiman.’ Luke caught the other man.

  ‘Let go of me. Let go of me.’ He struggled. But Luke was a powerful man and held him back.

  ‘You slut! You whore!’ he ranted, beginning to curse in his native tongue.

  Terry struggled to get up and rearrange his clothes, his face ashen.

  ‘Don’t you call me those names, Sulaiman Al Shariff,’ Alma spat as she sat up, tousled and dishevelled.

  ‘What good are you to me? I’m a woman, I have needs. A limp dick is no good to me,’ she screeched drunkenly. ‘That pathetic floppy little . . . little leek can’t give me what I need. I need a real man,’ she yelled.

  Someone tittered nervously in the background as people gathered to see what was going on.

  Sulaiman gave a great roar, shouted something in Urdu and lunged at Alma.

  ‘No, Sulaiman. No! Come on. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean it.’ Luke manhandled Sulaiman out the door. Curious guests parted to let them through. Devlin stood wide-eyed, with her hands over her mouth in horror. Her eyes met Maggie’s.

  Maggie stood rooted to the spot. How could Terry humiliate her like this in front of Luke and Devlin and their guests? How could he shame them both and embarrass their best friends?

  ‘You!’ she pointed a finger at Alma. ‘Don’t come back to my house tonight. And you!’ Her voice dripped with contempt, her eyes were like flints as she regarded her husband. ‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I give a damn who you fuck. She’s welcome to you. You can fuck the man in the moon for all I care, but I think you’re despicable to do what you’ve done to a friend. And to do it here in Devlin’s and Luke’s is as tacky as you are.’

  With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked down the hall, followed by Devlin.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Devlin. Just let me get a taxi and get out of here.’ She was shaking.

  ‘I’ll drive you home. I haven’t been drinking. You’re not getting a taxi after that shock. God Almighty, I could strangle Terry. The fool!’

  Andy and Mary Madigan came up to them. ‘Maggie, we’ll take Sulaiman home. He can spend the night with us. It might make things easier all round,’ Mary said gently.

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Mary. Thanks.’ Maggie was touched by the other woman’s thoughtfulness. ‘I’m terribly sorry about what happened.’

  ‘Tsk, it’s not your fault, pet. Things will sort themselves out,’ Mary said diplomatically.

  Luke and Sulaiman were out on the landing beside the lift. The older man was crying, sobbing like a child.

  ‘You heard what she said. I’m not a man. I can’t please her. I wish I were dead. I thought Terry Ryan was my friend.’

  ‘These things happen, Sulaiman. There was drink taken. It was a party. It meant nothing, I’m sure.’ Luke tried to console his distraught guest.

  ‘Come on, Suly. Come home with us.’ Andy took his colleague by the arm. ‘Have a good night’s sleep. Things will look different in the morning.’ He led Sulaiman into the lift and Luke gave a sigh of relief as the doors closed and it began its descent.

  ‘I’ll take Alma to my house,’ Janice offered.

  ‘That’s Paula and Norma knocked off the front page,’ Maggie said sheepishly.

  ‘Oh don’t be silly, Maggie! This couldn’t possibly compete with Paula and Norma. You’re not in the same league at all,’ Janice retorted crisply. ‘Chin up,’ she said kindly. She went off in search of Alma, who was weeping drunkenly in the bathroom.

  ‘Come on, Alma. You’re coming to stay the night with me. You can sleep it off.’ Janice rapped smartly on the door and marched in.

  ‘Oh Janice, this is the worst night of my life,’ Alma mumbled.

  ‘Nonsense! Come on.’

  ‘I’m going to be sick,’ Alma wailed.

  ‘Well throw up in the toilet, Alma,’ Janice ordered, turning her around and sticking her head down the loo.

  Alma retched miserably.

  Good enough for you, thought Maggie unsympathetically as Janice closed the bathroom door. She never wanted to see Alma Al Shariff again.

  Forty-five

  By the time she got home, Maggie was drained and exhausted. She’d told Terry not to come with her. He was the last person she needed right now.

  Devlin had wanted to drive her home but Maggie was adamant. It was too late. Devlin was pregnant. A taxi was fine.

  The other guests had started to leave. Terry slipped away after mumbling an abashed apology to Devlin and Luke. Maggie’s taxi arrived and she slid into the back seat gratefully. She was stone-cold sober again. Tired as she was, she was too wound up to go to bed, despite the fact that it was almost one a.m. With grim determination she set about packing her guests’ bags. She didn’t want to see them again. She just wanted them out. There was no question of them remaining in her house for the rest of their stay.

  She threw Alma’s toiletries into her toilet bag with a vengeance and then packed away her clothes into her suitcase. An hour later, the bed was stripped. The suitcases were in the hall and only the heavy scent of Alma’s perfume lingered in the room as mute testament that she had ever been there.

  She put the sheets in the washing-machine, switched off the lights and dragged herself up to bed. Surprisingly, she fell asleep instantly, worn out.

  Terry poured a shot from the bottle of whiskey he’d ordered from room service, undid his tie and kicked off his shoes. He lay back in the hotel armchair.

  He’d really cocked things up tonight, he thought ruefully. Shagging Alma in Devlin’s guest-room had not been a good move, although it had been incredibly exciting until they’d been interrupted.

  The woman was hungry for it. There was nothing more satisfying than an eager woman. Now, though, he’d be in the doghouse. Maggie would never forgive him for embarrassing her in front of so many people. And he’d never be able to look Luke and Devlin in the eye.

  He’d been lucky to get a room in a hotel at this time of year. Otherwise he’d have had to bunk down in the office. He’d have a nice lie-in in the morning, he decided. There was no point in going home early. The Al Shariffs would have to collect the kids and their luggage. He certainly didn’t want to have to meet Sulaiman again. The man would kill him.

  Terry felt a stab of shame. Suly was a nice man. It was a pity he’d discovered them. If he hadn’t, there’d be no harm done.

  Alma had been truly pissed to say the things she’d said. It was an awful thing to do. To take a man’s pride away like that. ‘Limp dick’. What a slur!

  Poor Suly. It was a shame for him. He probably knew full well what he was missing. Alma was a real goer in the sack. Terry sighed. He wasn’t at all sorry that he’d had the experience. He was just sorry he’d
been caught.

  Alma Al Shariff snored noisily on Janice Sullivan’s guest bed. She was as drunk as a skunk. The minute the fresh air had hit her when she’d left Devlin’s apartment all she wanted to do was sleep. She’d fallen asleep as soon as she lay down on the bed, wrapped in Janice’s quilted dressing-gown. Her sleep was dreamless and untroubled.

  Sulaiman Al Shariff cried his eyes out in the Madigans’ guest-room. Curled up in a ball in the bed, he dug his fists in his eyes and wept brokenheartedly. He had failed his wife. She had shamed him. When they got back to Saudi from America he was going to divorce her and take the kids to Pakistan. His mother and sister could rear them. Alma was not a fit mother. She would pay the penalty for her betrayal.

  Devlin and Luke lay cuddled in each other’s arms in the silence of their apartment. The detritus of the party had been cleared away, the caterers and guests long gone.

  ‘Poor Maggie,’ sighed Devlin. ‘It will be all over Dublin. Terry is such a selfish bastard.’

  ‘And Alma’s an almighty bitch. I know she was drunk, but to say those things to her husband in front of people was the lowest of the low.’ Luke tightened his arms around her. ‘That poor man was shattered. If I hadn’t held him back he would have killed one or other of them.’

  ‘Just as well you’re good and fit,’ Devlin murmured, resting her cheek against his chest.

  ‘It took me all my strength. Sulaiman’s no lightweight,’ Luke said ruefully.

  ‘It was very kind of Andy and Mary to take him home. And Janice certainly took no nonsense from Alma. Did you see the way she frogmarched her out to the lift?’ Devlin giggled.

  ‘Janice is a good egg,’ Luke smiled. ‘She said to me when she was going, “Luke darling, you throw a great party. I’ll never be able to outdo it.”’

  ‘I wonder where will they go? They’ll hardly get flights on standby at this time of the year.’

  ‘Well, they can’t stay at Maggie’s, that’s for sure.’ Luke yawned. ‘Go to sleep, wife. I don’t know about you but I’m beat. It was a long day.’