City Girl (29 page)

Even more slender and petite, dressed in a superbly cut pair of soft leather trousers with a gorgeous Italian knit jumper, gold discreetly displayed at ears and wrists, Caroline exuded an air of
affluence and sophistication that was quite amazing. She also exuded an air of unhappy tension and Devlin was dismayed to see dark circles underneath her eyes. After they hugged each other warmly,
Caroline took Lynn from her and cuddled her lovingly.

‘Oh Devlin, she’s beautiful! Look at her eyes – they’re just like yours! Oh I wish . . . ’ She didn’t finish what she was going to say, just smiled and hugged
Devlin again.

‘Oh Dev, it’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you so much! Let’s go and and get something to eat and settle down to a good natter.’ They went to a quiet but
inexpensive restaurant, thoughtfully chosen by Caroline who remembered Devlin’s fiercely independent nature and had guessed quite rightly that she would not allow her to pay for lunch.

They talked for hours but Devlin sensed that Caroline was holding back something concerning herself and Richard. It was patently obvious that her marriage wasn’t making her deliriously
happy and Devlin felt an immense pity for her friend. Of all people, Caroline had truly longed to be married and now things didn’t seem to be working out. At least she was single and free
even if she had Lynn. Caroline was tied to Richard as once she had been tied to her father and brothers. It was obvious that she was bored and lonely. Richard had insisted that she give up work and
he wouldn’t let her drive. It seemed to Devlin that he wanted Caroline to be dependent on him for everything. She knew that Caroline was shocked that she was living in a hostel, although
being her usual kind self she had made no comment.

Knowing Caroline as she did, she did not mind telling her the truth, but when Caroline invited her to visit the apartment, Devlin demurred, inwardly cringing at the thought of Richard’s
suave superiority.

‘As soon as I’ve got a place of my own,’ she promised. They arranged to meet once a week and to phone every other day. It was the one event Devlin looked forward to. For the
rest of the time she walked the legs off herself in preference to spending all day in the hostel, her self-esteem sinking lower and lower.

By the time the letter came from the housing department, she almost didn’t care, so great was the depression that had descended on her. They offered her a flat in Ballymun, and her heart
sank. Ballymun, the only high-rise complex in Dublin, housed twenty thousand families, nine thousand of whom lived in high-rise flats. It was located on the north side of the city and Devlin had
driven through it when taking the back route to the airport. She had pitied anyone living there and now she was going to live in its depressed greyness herself.

The next day, she surveyed her new environment from her balcony eight storeys up. Grey seemed to be the predominant colour, the grey tall buildings merging into the damp grey fog that hung like
a dirty lace shawl from the sky. She remembered having read that there was a high incidence of respiratory illness in the area. It did not surprise her. The flat was a one-bedroomed unit with a
sitting room and kitchen combined. A bathroom and small hallway completed it.

The wallpaper had peeled off the walls, the floor-covering was lifting in places and it was obvious that the previous tenant had not been house-proud. There was an unceasing clamour about the
block that set Devlin’s already overwrought nerves on edge, a mixture of children playing and screaming and dogs barking. She had never seen so many dogs! They roamed in packs all over the
vast estate, huge alsatians, dobermans, and a variety of mongrels. The man next door to her kept pigeons and their cooing added to the cacophony of sound.

‘My God! Is this what I’m reduced to!’ she said aloud as she sat on her suitcase and listened to her daughter screaming to be fed. Fear gripped her and she started to shake.
She could be here for years and years, she thought wildly. She’d have to go crawling on her hands and knees to Lydia. This enormous wilderness scared her. She’d noticed two young girls
of about fourteen draped on the stairway, obviously spaced out on something. Gently she bared her breast for Lynn and fed her baby, jumping nervously at every sound.

They had told her in the hostel that she could stay for a few days longer until she got some furniture together, and later, as she stood waiting for one of the graffitied lifts to bring her down
to ground level she felt as though the hostel was arcadian compared to Ballymun.

‘Lift’s broken, Missus. D’ya wan a hand?’ a gruff voice said beside her and she turned to see two teenage boys observing her. Cold fingers of terror gripped her insides.
She had heard about getting mugged. Maybe these were two gurriers. Devlin almost fainted as the pair of them lifted the buggy with Lynn in it and began to march down interminable flights of
stairs.

‘Yer new, Missus, aren’t yer?’ the gruff one with the spiky hairstyle and purple streaks was saying over his shoulder.

‘Yes that’s right,’ Devlin agreed faintly.

‘Me and Rog live next door to ya. Me ma’ll be delighted to have someone new beside us. We had squatters an all, they were awful druggies too!’

‘Oh!’ responded Devlin inadequately, as they reached the exit. They gently lowered the gurgling baby who had thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

‘See ya Missus,’ they said cheerfully as they strolled off to the shops.

‘Thanks very much,’ Devlin shouted after them, belatedly remembering her manners. They waved again and as she pushed the buggy towards the bus stop she marvelled at how prejudiced
she had been, immediately suspecting them of intending to rob her just because they were tough-looking young lads and she was in Ballymun. She felt ashamed and was to feel ashamed many times in the
future as one by one her narrow social prejudices were demolished and she learned while living there that there is good and bad everywhere. For the first time in her life Devlin realized that it
wasn’t where you lived and what you worked at that mattered. It was the kind of person you were that was important.

Standing in the bus queue with other young mothers and their babies she thought longingly about her Ford Fiesta that she had taken so much for granted. How free she had been then. Bus queues had
been for others. Now she was one of those people she had unconsciously looked down her nose at. Now she was also a person dependent on welfare the same as many others. What a turn her life had
taken. Caroline had done much better for herself. Even Maggie with her twins had someone to cherish and take care of her. Wait until she told them where she was living! God, wouldn’t they
pity her. She looked at her blue-eyed daughter grinning happily at her and felt an awful fear in the pit of her stomach. Would she be able to take care of her and provide for her? How would she
manage to give her the childhood that Devlin had taken so unquestioningly for granted, the music lessons, the horse riding, the school trips to the Continent? ‘I can’t even afford to
buy a bed,’ she muttered in despair.

Her pride at rock bottom, she rang Caroline and asked her to meet her the following day. As they sat sipping their coffee, she looked at her friend straight in the eye and said quietly,
‘Caro, I’m in a bad way for money and you are the only person I could bring myself to ask.’ Swallowing hard she continued, ‘I’ve got to buy a bed and some cups and
plates and something to cook on. Could you lend me some money? I swear I’ll pay you back.’ Lowering her head, she whispered, ‘Oh God, Caroline, look what I’m reduced to!
Please don’t tell Richard.’

Wordlessly Caroline opened her expensive Gucci bag, took out her cheque book and a slim gold pen and swiftly wrote out a cheque. Passing it over to Devlin she said firmly, ‘Take this, Dev,
it’s my own. Money I saved from when I was working. No-one except the two of us will ever know about it and if it takes you until you are fifty to pay me back I don’t care,’ she
said defiantly.

Devlin’s eyes widened as she saw the amount of the cheque. ‘Five hundred! Caroline, I can’t!’ she said, almost in tears at her friends generosity.

‘You can and you will!’ Caroline retorted. ‘You were always there when I needed you. Please let me do the same for you.’ She looked at Devlin, her lovely brown eyes
earnest. ‘Please Dev, let me do this. Nobody has ever needed me before, let me help you pick yourself up out of this mess. Don’t waste your time feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve
got to think of your future and Lynn’s.’ She chucked the baby under the chin. ‘I’m not going to let you bury yourself for ever out in Ballymun, but while you are there you
might as well have the bare necessities.’ She grinned. ‘Now finish your coffee and let’s go shopping and then I want you to give me your new address. I have a surprise for you
tomorrow.’

Devlin sat back open-mouthed. Caroline’s attitude astounded her. She was right: she had been giving in to self pity, feeling that she had a lot to be sorry for. But Caroline was having
none of it, and she sounded so determined! Usually it was Devlin who led and Caroline followed. Much to her surprise she found herself saying meekly, ‘Yes, Caroline’ as she followed her
friend out of the café. They headed to a discount store and again Devlin watched in amazement as the other girl swiftly loaded up a trolley with cups, plates, tea towels, knives, forks, and
other household wares.

‘I know these are cheap and not great quality but they will do until you are in better financial circumstances,’ Caroline was saying, in a brisk matter-of-fact tone.

‘Crikey, Caroline,’ Devlin said three hours later when a small divan, a second-hand sofa and a plain kitchen table had been purchased and they were sitting over another cup of
coffee. ‘You’ve changed so much!’

Caroline smiled at her. ‘Maybe I have,’ she agreed wryly. ‘But so have you.’ When they parted, Caroline to rendezvous with Richard, Devlin to spend her last night in the
hostel, they hugged warmly. ‘Don’t forget now, Devlin. Chin up and think positive.’

‘OK,’ Devlin promised. How their roles had been reversed. ‘Thanks Caroline, I’ll never forget what you did for me.’

‘And I haven’t forgotten what you did for me either. Now bring that child home and put her to bed and then get your thinking cap on. See you tomorrow with my surprise.’

The following morning Devlin was up at the crack of dawn. She packed the rest of her belongings in the hostel and stripped her bed, leaving the clothes neatly folded in a pile. The other girls
wished her well and she was warmed by their sincerity. After all they were all in the same boat. Extravagantly she ordered a taxi, knowing it was the last time she would be able to indulge in such
a luxury and as it sped towards the northside suburb she decided yet again to close the door on one phase of her life and begin another.

Making a pact with herself not to look back and think of the past, she turned her thoughts to the future. Caroline was right: she was not going to turn into a whimpering whingeing welfare
dependent. Lynn was going to have her music and horse riding lessons just as she had. She sat up straight in the back of the taxi, her jaw set and determined.

The sun was shining, the thick damp grey fog of her previous visit had evaporated and in the distance she could see the sharp outline of the seven high rise towers of the flats. They did not
seem so bad when the sun was shining: they even had their own stark attractiveness, she thought. To her left she noticed a single storey redbrick building surrounded by trees and shrubs and a rich
lawn, a green oasis in the concrete jungle. Noticing some adults and children leaving the building with books under their arms she mentally tucked the information at the back of her mind. The
library would come in handy until she could afford a television and at least it was free, she thought briskly. To think that she, Devlin Delaney, belle of many a ball, was reduced to going to a
library for entertainment! Impatiently she banished the thought. She had vowed not to look back but as the taxi drew to a halt outside her tower block and she saw the litter-filled
graffiti-decorated entrance she knew it would be hard going.

Nineteen

Two hours later, as Devlin determinedly scrubbed out her tiny kitchen, there was a knock on the door. Expecting it to be the furniture, she dried her hands, tucked a limp
strand of blonde hair behind her ear and didn’t bother to remove her apron. She opened the solid wooden door and her mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise as she discovered a grinning
Maggie, rubber gloves already on, and a similarly rubber-gloved Caroline beside her.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were in Dublin? I’ll murder you,’ Maggie exclaimed.

‘We’ve come to help you settle in, Dev,’ Caroline explained. Indicating a large box at her feet she said cheerfully, ‘there’s another one in Maggie’s car but
don’t ask me to get it yet; I couldn’t face those stairs for a while!’ Devlin stood almost speechless as a tide of emotion surged through her. Here were her two best friends, both
affluent married women and here she was an unmarried mother, living in poverty, looking a mess, with a hole in her jeans.

Oh God, what must they think of her. She couldn’t bear the thought of their pity. Her thoughts were mirrored in her eyes and Maggie, instantly aware of what was going through the younger
woman’s mind, put her arms around her and said gently, ‘Stop it, Dev, it’s us! Your best buddies! Don’t feel defensive with us, for heaven’s sake! All for one and one
for all. Remember?’ Devlin smiled at their old catchphrase. Maggie was right, she was far too defensive. Look at the way she had felt about Jeraldine. Really! It was time she got her act
together.

‘Come on Dev,’ Caroline urged, waving a litre bottle of duty-free wine. ‘Get the glasses and let’s get pissed for old time’s sake!’ Not knowing whether to
laugh or cry and on the verge of both, Devlin stood back and let them in. Maggie instantly made for Lynn’s cot and Devlin noted in surprise that her friend had put on some weight and that the
radiant
joie de vivre
that had been so characteristic of her seemed somewhat diminished. Marriage and motherhood had certainly taken their toll of the effervescent Maggs.