‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ he assured her.
It had been a bit like a honeymoon, Devlin told the delighted Caroline and Maggie. They were having breakfast in their usual spot after a very strenuous workout. ‘I’ve put on loads of weight,’ Devlin moaned. ‘I never stopped eating when I was up there.’ She was eating a prune and making a face at the same time.
‘Sure, you’d have got rid of that in bed,’ Caroline murmured as she tucked into cinnamon toast. ‘They say love-making is a great way to get rid of calories.’
‘Oh yes!’ Devlin brightened. ‘I never thought of that. Here, give me a slice; it looks gorgeous.’ As she spoke she pushed the offending prunes away.
Maggie laughed. ‘Devlin Delaney, you are something else.’
‘Oh stop being a goody-goody with your grapefruit and yoghurt. Have a slice of this. It’s yummy. Then go and ring Adam and you’ll be fine: you won’t gain an ounce.’
‘I will in my hat!’ laughed Maggie, ‘I haven’t a bit of Christmas shopping done and I swear to God I’m going into town today on a blitz and that’s the end of it. And if Mimi changes her mind as she’s done forty times this last week about what she’s getting from Santa, I’ll swing for her.’
‘Ah, Maggie,’ remonstrated Devlin, ‘that’s half the fun.’
‘Oh funny, ha ha. It’s hilarious. I’ve already returned a Polly Pocket dressing-table set that cost a fortune and bought the last My Little Pony Wedding Set in the shop. And my editor in her innocence thinks I’m madly writing.’
‘All will be well,’ soothed Devlin. ‘What are you doing, Caroline?’
‘I’ll go home to Dad and the boys.’
‘Well, you’ll be coming over to me after Christmas, won’t you?’ Maggie urged. ‘And you too, Devlin?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it!’ Devlin exclaimed.
‘Sure thing,’ agreed Caroline with pleasure.
‘And when I come back from Paris, Caro, you’re going to stay with me for a few days, aren’t you?’ Devlin cocked an eyebrow.
‘Yep,’ Caroline said cheerfully eating another slice of toast.
‘Have you no shame?’ Maggie enquired.
‘Nope.’
‘Ah, to hell with it, Devlin! Order another plate of that toast. I’ll need it to keep my strength up in town.’ Devlin needed no second urging.
It’s going to be the best Christmas ever, she promised herself, as she took the elevator downstairs to where her mother’s shop, Special Occasions, had opened in the mall. Devlin was delighted that Lydia had taken her up on her suggestion. Leasing the unit and starting up the gift shop had done wonders for Lydia, whose business flair had come as a very pleasant surprise both to Devlin and to her father. Special Occasions was trading very well and now in the lead-up to Christmas, business was booming. Devlin intended to do most of her Christmas shopping there and had earmarked some exquisite lingerie for the girls and for Liz, her secretary. Lynda and Florence were getting some of the very pretty scented stationery that Lydia stocked and the staff of City Girl were each getting a large box of scrumptious handmade chocolates. So Devlin was very happy in the knowledge that several hundred pounds’ worth of business would be going her mother’s way and at the same time people would be getting lovely gifts.
‘Hi, Mum.’ She bounded in and gave Lydia a kiss. ‘Here’s my shopping list. I’m giving it to you well in advance so you’ll have plenty of time. Can I have them gift-wrapped as well?’
‘Good Lord,’ exclaimed Lydia as she scanned the typed pages. ‘You’ll be bankrupt and I’ll be in profit. Oh excuse me, dear, I’ve a customer,’ she said, all businesslike as she went to the till. Her assistant didn’t come in until eleven.
‘Come up and have your lunch with me in the Coffee Dock,’ Devlin suggested. ‘We’ll have a natter. I want to hear what you think of my idea for Dad’s Christmas present.’
‘Right, I’ll do that,’ Lydia promised as her customer took out her credit card and began to point to a variety of items she required. Obviously someone else doing her Christmas shopping, Devlin thought approvingly.
There was a spring in her step as she ran up the stairs to her office. In two weeks’ time, all going to schedule, Belfast City Girl would be opening in a blaze of publicity. Then it was off to Paris on Christmas Eve with Luke. She could hardly wait! Then she’d have Caroline to stay and there would be dinner parties and the crack would be mighty. She was definitely going to make sure it was a good Christmas this year. She had earned it, she told herself, as she walked into her office humming.
Liz turned a worried face in her direction. ‘Devlin, there’s a bit of bad news, I’m afraid. Arthur Kelly’s had a heart attack. He’s in intensive care in the Royal Victoria. It’s not looking too good.’
Eight
It was a warm July morning seven months later. They were waiting patiently at the entrance to Johnson’s Mobile Caravan and Camping Park. When they saw her there were screeches of excitement and they danced up and down waving at her. Devlin rolled to a halt and felt a balm envelop her. This was just what she needed. And it was such a beautiful place: the hills of Wicklow all around and in this natural little hollow a haven for the weary soul.
‘Hiya, Auntie Devlin!’ said Michael with a beaming face. ‘Follow us and we’ll show you where our mobile is.’
‘You have to go slow: there’s ramps,’ Mimi said importantly as she stuck her head in through the car window and kissed her ‘aunt’ enthusiastically.
‘Right, I’ll follow you,’ said Devlin, starting the engine again. Like two outriders Mimi and Michael swept ahead on their scooters, their little brown legs in rhythm and Devlin, feeling as important as if she were President Robinson, followed behind them. To her right she could see a children’s play area with swings, roundabouts, see-saws and a swimming pool that sparkled blue and silver in the early-morning sun. To her left were the reception area and shop, and then, as she drove down into the hollow, she could see the mobile homes in their own neatly tended, spacious plots.
Her outriders hung a left and she passed the showers and washrooms and then climbed a little hill. Then again another turn – a sharp right this time – into another field. Devlin followed them down to the end of it, past a tennis-court. She smiled as she saw Maggie hanging out clothes on a small line while Shona handed her the pegs.
‘Oh God, I need this.’ Devlin climbed out of the car and flung her arms around Maggie.
‘Are you staying on your holidays, Manty Devlin?’ Shona tugged at Devlin’s skirt and held out her plump little arms to be lifted.
‘Yes, darling. Yes, I am! Isn’t it great!’
‘Look at mine own bed.’ The toddler eagerly dragged her up the steps of the veranda.
‘And mine too!’ Mimi was hotfoot behind them, scooter flung on the grass.
‘Are you sure this is what you need? You won’t get much of a rest here.’
‘Maggie, I’ve been so looking forward to this,’ Devlin said fervently. ‘Oh it’s lovely!’ she exclaimed as she stepped inside the mobile. ‘Maggie, it’s fabulous. I’ve never been in a mobile home before.’ She stood gazing around at the compact lounge with its comfortable sofas, built-in units and neat fireplace. Further down was the kitchenette and dining area and at the very end she could see through the open doors bedrooms and a shower and toilet.
‘Congratulations, Maggie, you really deserve this! God knows you worked for it.’
‘You can say that again,’ her friend said dryly. ‘You’d better let them show you around. I’ll put the kettle on.’ The next ten minutes were spent ooohing and aahing at the children’s lovely cheerful little bedrooms with built-in units and matching curtains and duvet covers.
‘OK, that’s it!’ Maggie cried as she carried in the tea and produced homemade brown bread and cheese and biscuits. ‘The sun is shining, and you know the rule: out to play when the sun is shining.’
‘ ‘‘The sun has got his hat on; hip, hip, hip hooray,’�
� ’ trilled Mimi as she waved at her aunt. ‘See you later, alligator.’ Devlin burst out laughing.
‘In a while, crocodile,’ she responded, as the three of them tumbled out the door and went off to play.
‘That one is a hoot,’ Devlin chuckled.
‘Tell me about it!’ laughed Maggie. ‘Yesterday she informed me that she wanted to be a nopra singer and could she please have singing lessons. You’ll hear her warbling away. I’m telling you, Maria Callas would have had nothing on her.’
‘How’s your own career?’
‘I’m just going to concentrate on my writing and win as much independence as I can. That’s one of the reasons I bought this mobile with my last advance. This is mine; it’s my bolthole. Nobody can annoy me here. And the only people I have here are the people I love dearly.’ She reached across the table and squeezed Devlin’s hand. ‘Actually, since I’ve bought this place I’ve perked up an awful lot. At the moment I’m quite happy. But what about you? Tell us all the news.’
‘News! Huh! I’d need a whole hour on Sky News to tell you all that’s going on,’ Devlin groaned. She sipped her tea and took a satisfying bite of fresh brown bread, topped with rich yellow cheddar cheese. ‘All I can say is: Maggie, I’m totally exhausted. As you know, I haven’t had a minute to myself since before last Christmas, what with Arthur having his heart attack, and Luke and I having to cancel our trip to Paris.’
‘That was unfortunate all right,’ Maggie sympathized.
‘Well, it just meant that we had to postpone the launch of the Belfast City Girl for a week. I had to spend a lot of time there, coordinating everything and getting all the publicity done – and dealing with all the things Arthur would have been handling.’
‘So, is everything all right with Belfast now?’ Maggie asked.
‘It’s going great guns now; doing really well, thank God,’ Devlin exclaimed. ‘But I just don’t want ever to go through something like that again. The pressure was incredible and I felt responsible because I’d sort of railroaded Luke into it.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ grinned Maggie. ‘No-one could railroad Luke Reilly.’
‘But you know what I mean,’ argued Devlin. ‘I was gung-ho to get Belfast going but really it was Arthur who was the driving force behind it all. He had all the contacts and he had made all the publicity arrangements. When he had his heart attack I really felt totally lost, as you can understand. It was scary, I can tell you, trying to carry on where he left off.’
‘But Arthur’s OK now, isn’t he?’ Maggie queried.
‘He’s fine, as good as new. You should see him. He’s a reformed character. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, walks six miles a day, has dropped three stone. He’s sickening, so bloody smug. You know how I love chocolate. Well, I daren’t touch the stuff when he’s around or I get a lecture on my cholesterol levels.’
‘I had quite a few patients who had heart attacks who really changed their bad habits and developed a healthy lifestyle,’ Maggie reflected. ‘And they’ve never looked back. The quality of their lives improved tremendously.’ Her preaching was spoiled by her spooning more sugar into her second cup of tea and devouring a Club Milk with indecent haste.
‘I see it hasn’t rubbed off on you,’ Devlin teased.
‘Give over!’ grinned her friend, passing the packet to her.
‘Arthur’s incredible, though,’ Devlin remarked, as she bit into the chocolate snack. ‘He had loads of energy before his attack, but you should see him now. I just can’t keep up with him. He was very seriously ill for the first couple of days but he pulled out of it and fought his way back to health. He did everything he was told by his doctors and dieticians and I raise my hat to him. Do you know what he thinks we should do next?’
‘What?’
‘Mr Arthur Kelly thinks we should open a . . . wait for it . . .’ said Devlin with a smile, ‘. . . a City Man.’
‘Good thinking,’ approved Maggie. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, I think it’s a great idea,’ laughed Devlin. ‘At least we’ll be able to refute the accusation that we’re sexist. But right now I’m up to my eyes getting Galway organized, so it will have to wait. He’s going to look into financing and the like up in Belfast. But I just can’t get involved yet: we’re going too fast and I’m barely able to keep up.’
‘You should be careful,’ Maggie warned. ‘You could get burnt out very easily.’
‘I know; I feel a bit whacked,’ Devlin sighed. ‘The last six months have been hectic.’ She quickly brightened. ‘And that’s why I came down here. And thanks for asking Luke at the weekend, you’re a real pal, Mags.’
‘You mightn’t be saying that by the end of the week,’ Maggie laughed, as Shona raced through the door and launched herself at Devlin.
‘Manty Devlin, Manty Devlin, will you bwing me for a swing by mine own self?’
‘Everything is mine own self these days, as in ‘‘I can do it mine own self,’’ ’ Maggie explained.
‘Come on, then.’ Devlin lifted the toddler in her arms and held her close. Shona snuggled in tight and patted her on the shoulder.
‘I lub you, Manty Devlin.’
‘I love you, too.’ Devlin kissed the fine gold curls under her chin. ‘I’m off to the swings,’ she said to Maggie. ‘Expect me when you see me.’
‘This is the life, gang.’ Devlin stretched golden limbs out along her lounger and revelled in the heat of the sun.
‘It’s a bit like old times,’ Caroline remarked, as she lifted her head out of Deirdre Purcell’s blockbuster.
‘Old times!’ guffawed Maggie, as a gang of children danced and shrieked behind them in the great rolling dunes of Brittas Bay.
‘Ah, you know what I mean,’ said Caroline, who had arrived down from Dublin that morning and had lost no time in joining the relaxed holiday atmosphere that Maggie and Devlin had already eagerly embraced.
‘It’s a long time, all the same,’ said Devlin reflectively, ‘since the three of us were away together. The weekend in Rosslare a year ago was our last little holiday.’
‘It’s been some year – and there’s been some changes,’ Maggie said ruefully and rather ungrammatically for a writer.
‘Imagine,’ said Caroline, ‘the step I’ll be taking in less than four months. I wonder am I mad to have agreed to go?’
‘You’re not mad: it’s a fantastic opportunity and just what you need,’ Devlin retorted, gently flicking at a bee that was hovering over her left breast.
‘I’m really sorry I’ll miss your launch, though, Maggie,’ said Caroline regretfully.
‘Can’t be helped. You just go. Mind it won’t be the same not having the third musketeer there. If things had gone to plan, it might have been my novel you were reading on the beach today.’
‘Your day will come,’ Devlin said comfortingly. ‘Lying on a beach, being warmed by the sun, and listening to the sea just has to be the most therapeutic thing in the world. I feel so totally relaxed it’s incredible. It took me about two hours to wind down. I thought it would take me two days.’
‘It’s such a simple pleasure and simple pleasures are always the best,’ agreed Caroline, lashing on Nivea suntan milk.
‘Mammy, will you tell Shona to stop throwing sand: it’s getting in my eyes and it’s not fair.’ Mimi had galloped up, scattering sand all over them.
‘For God’s sake, Mimi!’ Maggie exclaimed in exasperation. ‘I’ve told you to be careful. Look at Auntie Caroline: she’s covered in sand.’
‘Sorry, Auntie Caroline.’ Mimi looked crestfallen.
‘Not to worry,’ Caroline said, dusting herself off. ‘It was an accident,’ she added kindly, giving the little girl a hug.
‘It was an accident!’ Mimi shot a triumphant look at her mother.
‘Tell Shona to come up here; and if there’s any more rows we’re all going home and we’re not having our picnic. OK?’
‘OK.’ Mimi threw her eyes up to heaven and went slithering back
down the dune to get her sister.
‘Mammy wants you ’mediately, Shona, you’re in big trouble,’ they heard her tell her younger sister.
Shona came panting up to them, her little legs sinking into the fine sand. She was pouting. ‘ ’S not sair, Mammy, ’s not sair,’ she complained. Devlin and Caroline hid their smiles behind their hands.
‘Were you throwing sand?’ Maggie asked sternly. Shona hung her head and stubbornly refused to answer. ‘If I catch anyone throwing sand I’ll get the wooden spoon! Do you hear me, Shona?’
The toddler nodded.
‘Am going to play with Piona an Triona by mine own self, so I nam,’ she said defiantly as she trotted off down the hill in a huff.
‘Don’t throw sand,’ Maggie called after her.
She smiled at the amused Caroline. ‘You were saying something about simple pleasures . . .’
‘What the hell is wrong with your man there?’ Devlin sat up and glared at a clean-cut young man in his twenties who was peering in over the top of the windbreak.
‘You’d want to mind those nipples don’t get frostbite,’ he said hastily and took to his heels.
Devlin sat with her mouth open, not sure if she had heard right.
The three of them stood up and stared after the man as he darted through the dunes.
‘Pervert!’ shrieked Maggie. ‘God, wouldn’t they just sicken you! Isn’t that pathetic! What a way to get your kicks. You should see them on Sundays, out with their binoculars pretending to be bird-watching. It’s disgusting. That kind of thing really bugs me: it’s so offensive to women and there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘We could have chased him and kicked him in the goolies,’ Devlin hissed.
‘He probably hasn’t got any goolies,’ Caroline snorted. ‘That’s why he’s sneaking up on women hoping for a free look. He’s probably a eunuch.’
‘Well, if he comes back here, he’s in trouble,’ Maggie vowed. ‘When we were kids we used to cycle here by ourselves and my parents felt we were perfectly safe. I wouldn’t let my kids out of my sight for a minute – here or anywhere else. Isn’t that an awful reflection on the society we’re living in,’ she added gloomily.
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