City Lives (45 page)

‘I’m sorry, Sulaiman, I really am. Take care of yourself.’ Maggie kissed him on the cheek and watched him leave. He walked like a man who had the weight of the world on his
shoulders.

‘Why did they have to go, Mam? What’s wrong with Sulaiman?’ Michael asked her when she walked back into the kitchen.

‘They had to get to America sooner than they thought,’ Maggie fibbed. ‘Sulaiman was upset leaving.’

‘And where’s Alma?’ Mimi wanted to know.

‘She didn’t feel too good at the party so she stayed the night. She’s going to take a taxi to meet the others.’

‘She was nice,’ said Shona. ‘Where’s Daddy?’

‘He had to go into work.’

‘On a Sunday?’ Shona was aghast.

Drat!
thought Maggie. She’d almost forgotten that it was Sunday. ‘The alarm went off,’ she lied. ‘Quick, if we put our skates on we’ll make twelve Mass and
we won’t have to go tonight. Hurry on and get ready.’

She ran upstairs and had a quick shower. When she was dressed she phoned Terry on his mobile.

‘The coast is clear,’ she said sarcastically, when he answered. ‘Sulaiman and the kids are gone. You’re safe to come home. I told the kids that you had to go into work to
turn off the alarm. We’re going to twelve Mass and then I’m taking them to Eddie Rocket’s for lunch. You can get something yourself.’

‘Look, Maggie, we have to talk,’ Terry said earnestly. ‘I was drunk, that’s all. I—’

‘Terry, I have absolutely nothing to say to you about the matter. I couldn’t be bothered. You can do as you please. Go where you like as long as you carry out your responsibilities
to the kids. And you’ll be sleeping in the guest-room until I get my attic room built.’

‘Your attic room?’ Terry was mystified.

‘As soon as I get my next advance cheque I’m getting a room built in the attic for myself. Our marriage is finished. When our children are reared and on their way I intend to divorce
you. Unfortunately that will be a long way away. In the meantime, the less I have to be with you, Terry, the better. Goodbye.’

She clicked off and stared down at the phone.

‘Put that in your pipe and smoke it. You did me a favour, you bastard. You got rid of the Al Shariffs for me. I have three days extra to write,’ Maggie muttered as she picked up her
bag and her car keys and went down to tell her children that she was treating them to lunch.

It was a glorious winter’s day. The sky was a vivid blue. The sun cast prisms of silver light onto the waves that sparkled as far as the eye could see. The Sugar Loaf and
Wicklow hills were etched so clearly against the sky Caroline could see the shades of lavender, green and gold of the fields spread like a patchwork quilt across the countryside.

She was alone on Killiney Hill except for a woman walking her dog. It was the week before Christmas. It was hard to believe that Christmas was almost upon them and that her life had changed so
radically. Richard was dead. She was a widow. And she was working and living in Galway. All in the space of less than two months.

Sometimes Caroline felt that she was living in a dream. She hugged close the silver urn containing Richard’s ashes. Today she was going to let go of all the grief and bitterness and hurt
that his death had caused her. Today she was going to set Richard free to be with Charles.

Today was the day that she was going to start afresh. Although at the time she’d been annoyed with her, Devlin had been absolutely right. She had to respect Richard’s choice. If she
kept immersing herself in guilt and bitterness she would never learn from the experience and never move on.

In her darkest nights after Richard’s death she had felt deserted by God. But all the while Devlin’s words kept coming back to her and, slowly, the fear and panic and guilt began to
ease. It helped that she was up to her eyes at work.

There’d been huge shock when the staff had arrived the morning after Ciara’s dismissal to find Devlin, Caroline and Andrew sitting in the office. Devlin had called a staff meeting
and told them that Ciara had been dismissed for pilfering and that from now on management would report to Caroline. Ciara’s job would be filled after interviews were held. In the meantime, it
was business as usual.

The first week had been very unsettling for Caroline. The staff all knew of her tragedy and were awkward with her. But gradually routines were adhered to and the staff found out that Caroline
was a very different kettle of fish from Ciara. The former manageress, it seemed, had been somewhat of an autocrat, whereas Caroline preferred teamwork. She initiated regular staff meetings and
made sure that they knew her door was open to them with any problems they might have.

The new building was progressing on time. They were still on target for an April opening. After that, Caroline knew she’d have to decide whether to stay in Galway or move back to Dublin.
She had put all her business in the hands of her solicitor. Richard had left her everything. The apartment, his law firm, his savings, investments and insurance policies. Overnight, Caroline had
become a very wealthy woman. It was something she didn’t give a lot of thought to. Sometime in the future she’d deal with it. In the meantime she was immersed in her work.

Caroline had decided against selling the firm while Sarah was still in a coma. If her mother-in-law came out of it, she’d send her solicitor to meet with her and see what her thoughts were
on the matter. Meanwhile, after the shock of Richard’s death had sunk in, the partners had absorbed his work and for the foreseeable future the business would continue as normal.

Richard’s uncle had pestered her after the funeral to know what her plans were, until Caroline, finally pushed to her limit, had told him to contact her solicitor and to leave her
alone.

Galway was such a respite in that respect, Caroline mused, as she watched a green DART train snaking along the tracks towards Bray. No-one knew her. She was anonymous and for the time being that
suited her very well.

She took the lid off the urn and looked at the fine grey ash inside. It was hard to believe that this was all that was left of Richard’s earthly form.

‘Be happy, Richard. Be with Charles for ever. Be with God,’ she whispered. She leaned against the railings that protected onlookers from the drop, raised the urn high, and shook the
contents in the air to be carried on the breeze. She stood for a long time gazing out to sea until, eventually, the cold made her shiver and she knew it was time to go.

She had done her best for her husband, now it was time to do the best for herself.

She had arranged to meet Devlin and Maggie for lunch. Devlin had filled her in on the ‘incident’. She felt terribly sad for Maggie. People envied her. Thought she had it all. They
didn’t know the reality of her life.

‘Hello, Maggie, are you OK?’ she exclaimed when she walked into the small Italian restaurant in Temple Bar.

‘I’m fine,’ Maggie said stoutly. ‘Don’t you worry about me. What about you?’

‘I’m fine too.’ Caroline smiled.

‘How did the the . . . how do I put it?’ Maggie paused.

‘The scattering of the ashes?’ Caroline said easily as she slipped into her seat.

‘We’d have gone with you, you know,’ Devlin interjected firmly.

‘I know, Dev. And thank you. It was just something I had to do on my own. And it was all right. I’m really glad I did it. I sent a letter to Mrs Yates, should she ever come out of
the coma, trying to explain why I did what I did. But frankly I don’t care what she or any of them say. This isn’t about any of them. It was about Richard. And who he was and what he
was. He’s with Charles now and I’m glad. They’re free,’ Caroline said defiantly.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t come and stay with any of us for Christmas?’ Devlin urged.

‘Honestly, girls, I’d really prefer to stay in Galway and get it over with. It would be much easier for me,’ Caroline declared briskly. ‘Now let’s order
lunch.’

Caroline had driven back to Galway that evening feeling that a weight was lifted from her shoulders. She could move on. She was touched by the girls’ invitation to spend Christmas with
them. But she wanted to be alone. It was the easiest way to get through it.

At the time she’d felt it was the right thing for her to do, but on Christmas Eve she began to wonder if she’d made a big mistake. City Girl had closed at one, the staff excited and
looking forward to the break. The building was silent and empty as she made the last checks before locking up.

Devlin would be the only one of the three of them having a good Christmas, she reflected sadly as she walked past the new building which was soon to be roofed. It would be difficult for Maggie
but at least she had her children. And Christmas really was for children.

Would she ever have a child of her own? Right now it seemed very unlikely. Out of nowhere it came, that painful grievous thought that brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.

‘Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself,’ she muttered as she walked along by the sea with her head down, blinking away the tears. She was so distracted she wasn’t looking where
she was going and she almost collided with a golden retriever on a leash. A tall, lean man in a green anorak was holding the leash.

‘Sorry! Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,’ Caroline apologized.

‘That’s OK,’ the man said and Caroline recognized him.

‘Oh! Mr Moran, isn’t it? Our landscape gardener.’

‘And you’re Mrs Yates? We met before, briefly.’

‘Yes I remember, I was down here with Devlin a while back.’

Caroline tried to regain her composure.

‘And you’ve been bereaved since then.’ His blue eyes were kind. ‘I’m very sorry for your troubles, Mrs Yates.’ There was such compassion in his voice she hung
her head and started to cry again.

‘There’s a seat over there, perhaps you’d like to sit down,’ he said calmly.

Caroline shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed.

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for. Grief is grief, it comes to us all in one way or another,’ he said quietly. He stood almost protectively at her side until she had stopped
crying.

‘Are you all right now?’ He showed no embarrassment or discomfort at her display of emotion.

‘It still catches me unawares. And I suppose with it being Christmas and everything.’

‘The first one is always the worst.’

Caroline looked at him in surprise.

‘My wife died four years ago. She was killed in a car crash the day after her fortieth birthday.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Moran.’ Caroline looked into his blue eyes and had the strangest feeling that she knew him from somewhere.

‘That’s the way it goes.’ The man shrugged. ‘And the name’s Matthew.’

‘And mine’s Caroline.’

They smiled at each other. His smile changed his features completely. He looked younger, less intense.

‘So, are you going to Dublin this evening?’ They turned and began to walk towards her apartment, the dog trotting along beside Matthew.

‘No. I’m staying in Galway.’

‘With friends?’

‘No. I don’t really know anybody here,’ Caroline murmured. ‘I just want to get the day over with. Have you family to go to? Children?’

‘No, no children. My father’s alive still, he lives about five miles from here. I’ll spend Christmas with him,’ Matthew said.

‘Have a happy one,’ Caroline said as they reached his blue Peugeot station wagon.

‘You live in the apartments over there, don’t you? You don’t have too far to go now,’ he said diffidently.

She nodded. ‘How do you know I live there?’ She was curious.

Matthew laughed. ‘You get to hear things when you’re working around. Galway’s not that big.’

Caroline smiled. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘I have to get a move on. Take care.’ Matthew opened the car door for the dog, raised his hand in casual salute and then he was gone, his car disappearing into the darkness.

Caroline felt better for being in his company. She couldn’t explain why. She just did.

New Year’s Eve dawned bright and clear. Caroline lay in bed watching the sun streaming through the window. Her bedroom overlooked the river. The sun’s sparkles
danced up and down on the waves as it flowed along towards Galway Bay.

It was cold. Caroline snuggled in under the quilt of the double bed and yawned. She might go back to sleep for another snooze. She was dreading today. New Year’s Eve had always been so
lonely for her. This one would be a thousand times worse.

Christmas Day hadn’t been too bad, she’d simply spent the day in bed watching TV. It had passed over her as though she were detached from the frenetic gaiety of it all. She had done
a lot of sleeping the few days she’d been off work. She’d been content to do so. Her body obviously needed the rest after all the shocks and changes it had absorbed in the past few
months. She yawned again and drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke the second time, the central heating had kicked in and her apartment felt nice and warm. She liked this apartment, she thought, looking around her bedroom with its pine
dressing-table and chest of drawers. A large pine wardrobe was crammed with clothes.

She padded out to the sitting-room. A plump buttercup-yellow couch with a thin blue stripe, and two large armchairs in the same fabric, dominated the room. A pine dresser, a bookcase, a TV unit
and a nest of tables completed the furnishings. Blue-and-yellow patterned curtains hung at the windows, the walls, a pale cream with the tiniest touch of yellow, lent the room a warm glow.

She had made the place her own with bowls of potpourri and scented candles dotted here and there. Her only ornaments, some cherished pieces of Lladro, were all that she had taken from the
apartment in Dublin.

Nestled in a small alcove off the sitting-room, a round pine table and six chairs made up her dining area. The apartment was small and compact, but Caroline felt more at home here than she ever
had in the big penthouse in Clontarf.

She made herself a cup of coffee and nibbled on a croissant. Later she sat in one of the big comfortable chairs and watched the stunning panorama from her window. She could look across the river
to the Claddagh and Galway Bay. She might take up painting in the New Year, it would be a new interest, and she’d never be stuck for views. That was her first New Year’s resolution, she
decided.