City Woman (26 page)

‘I didn’t say it was,’ Maggie argued hotly.

‘Well then, don’t start acting the martyr,’ Terry snarled. ‘All I wanted was a bit of love-making and you carry on as if I’d asked you to do the pilgrimage at Lough
Derg or something. Typical, making a big deal out of everything.’

‘Listen, buster, one day I
will
make a big deal about something and then you’ll know about it.’ Maggie tramped up the stairs in fury and swept out the front door,
leaving her spouse equally angry as he headed up to St Camillus. He was just in time for Shona to puke all over him as he lifted her in his arms to kiss her.

‘Are you all right there now, Mr Ryan?’ a young blonde nurse asked after she had helped him wipe off his trousers.

Terry smiled at her. She was a very pretty young girl and it was nice to have a woman smile at him after the way Maggie had jumped down his throat a while ago. ‘Thank you, Nurse . .
.’ He peered at her badge. ‘Thank you, Dolores, you’re very kind.’ He gave his most charming smile. He could see that she liked him. It made him feel good about himself. A
man needed to feel good about himself and it certainly didn’t help when his wife made it quite clear that making love to her husband was the last thing in the world she was interested in. He
was thinking of her as much as himself. A nice kiss and a cuddle would have relaxed her and taken her mind off things. Didn’t she appreciate all he was doing in the crisis? And the way she
snapped his nose off when he suggested that writing wasn’t work! She could argue until she was blue in the face; sitting at a typewriter making things up out of her head was a doddle compared
to working out complicated figures and tax-relief scams. And now she was talking about going away for a month of leisure and leaving him to his own devices. Honest to God, talk about being
neglected! Was it any wonder men had affairs? That nurse definitely fancied him. He knew by the way she was smiling in at him. Oh well, no harm in a little flirtation to keep his confidence up. If
Maggie didn’t want him, there were plenty of women who did.

‘Maggie, you look wrecked! Go up and have a shower,’ Caroline said solicitously, shooing her up the stairs. ‘I’ll have your dinner on the table in ten
minutes. The twins are all ready for bed.’

Her kindness almost made Maggie cry. After her row with Terry she was fit for nothing. Why couldn’t he see she was under pressure, she fumed, as she stood under the steaming jets of water,
trying to erase the ache of tension that knotted her neck and shoulder muscles. They were always rowing lately and she admitted it was as much her fault as his. Was she being super-sensitive? Was
she deliberately concentrating on his faults rather than his good qualities? And he
had
good qualities, she admitted to herself. He was a great father and thought the world of his kids. He
wasn’t mean with money. He would do anybody a good turn. He had always been very kind to Devlin and Caroline in their hours of need. He was good to his mother. He worked all the hours God
gave him to make a success of his financial consultancy. Why couldn’t he just give her the support she craved? ‘Because he’s a selfish insensitive shit,’ Maggie muttered, as
she soaped herself all over, still fuming at his infuriating remarks.

‘Dinner in five minutes,’ Caroline called up the stairs.

‘OK,’ Maggie yelled. Caroline was such a pet and the kids loved her. When this was all over she was going to treat her friend to a really nice lunch in a good restaurant. She looked
a bit tired and pale today. Richard had better be behaving himself, she thought grimly.

‘You OK, Caroline? You look a bit off,’ she enquired of the younger woman five minutes later as she sat in a robe of soft pink towelling, ready to eat the tasty lasagne and side
salad Caroline had served up. ‘The kids aren’t playing up or anything?’

‘No, no, they’re great, Maggie. I’m fine,’ Caroline assured her, pulling up a chair and pouring herself a cup of tea. ‘How’s Shona?’

Between mouthfuls of the creamy feast, Maggie told her friend the latest about her daughter. ‘I wish the news was better,’ she sighed. ‘With luck the Erythromycin will work.
It’s heart-breaking looking at her. I know she’s hungry; she was dying for the Petit Filou I got for her but after the first spoonful she started to cry. Her mouth is in bits with the
blisters and she can’t eat anything.’ Suddenly, Maggie’s throat constricted as she thought of her little daughter unable to eat even a yoghurt while she was stuffing herself with
lasagne. She started to cry and great big tears plopped on to her dinner plate.

‘Ah Maggie! Ah Maggie!’ Caroline leaned over and put her arm around her.

‘Oh Caroline, it’s awful, it’s awful, and when they give her the oral medicine by syringe and I have to hold her down it breaks my heart. The poor little mite! I feel so
useless; I feel I’m letting her down,’ Maggie sobbed bitterly. ‘And then Terry and I had a row, a terrible row. Caroline, I know this is an awful thing to say but I don’t
think I love him any more. Things haven’t been good between us for ages. He thinks everything is OK after his affair but it’s not. It’s not OK for me, I’ve tried to put it
behind me and I can’t. I bet if Ria Kirby was writing a book he’d be kneeling holding her goddamned typewriter,’ she wept bitterly.

‘Maggie, Maggie, you’re just overwrought,’ broke in Caroline. ‘You’re tired and worried sick over Shona, and things seem to be much worse than they are. Honestly,
when she’s well again they will get into perspective. You’re at a low ebb now and believe me, I know from experience that everything always looks much blacker when you’re at rock
bottom.’ Caroline was glad she hadn’t confided her own problems in Maggie, although she had been sorely tempted to.

‘It’s ironic, isn’t it? I should be on cloud nine, getting my novel published and all, and I’ve never been so unhappy.’ Maggie wiped her reddened eyes.

‘It
will
be a happy time. I’m sure that super-antibiotic will fix Shona,’ Caroline said kindly. ‘You shouldn’t take any notice of Terry. Men react
differently to women when they’re under stress. He didn’t mean anything he said. I know he didn’t, so don’t take it to heart. Look, the twins are watching
The Little
Mermaid.
Why don’t you go in and sit with them for a while? I’ll clear up here.’

‘You’re very good to me, Caroline.’ Maggie hugged her friend.

‘One good turn . . .’ said Caroline, smiling.

Michael and Mimi were sitting round-eyed looking at Ursula the Sea Witch, mixing her magic potions as she huskily boomed, ‘Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need.’ I know the
feeling, thought Maggie wryly as she plonked herself down on the sofa and allowed herself to be kissed and cuddled. ‘This part’s real exciting, Mammy; ’Itsom an’ Bitsom are
being very bold,’ Michael said seriously.

Maggie hid a smile. ‘You mean Flotsam and Jetsam, pet?’

‘Yeah and they made the Little Mermaid follow him to Ursula’s cave . . .’

‘But Flounder an’ Sebastian are tryin’ to save her,’ Mimi chimed in. ‘Mammy, do you think I look a bit like the Likkle Mermaid?’ her daughter enquired,
flicking back her auburn hair and gazing at her amused mother with huge blue eyes.

‘Oh, I think you’re even more beautiful than the Little Mermaid.’ Maggie hugged her and reflected ruefully that she had inherited some of her father’s vanity. ‘And
you’re even more handsome than the Prince.’ She smiled down at her son, making sure not to leave him out.

‘Mammy, are you staying at home tonight?’ Michael asked seriously. ‘I miss you.’

‘Me too! I wish Shona was home.’ Mimi snuggled in closer.

‘She will be soon, but I have to stay with her when she’s sick. Just as I’d stay with you if you were sick,’ Maggie explained patiently.

‘I do feel sick,’ Mimi said sorrowfully, ‘here in my tummy, so will you stay at home and mind me tonight?’ Oh Lord, Maggie thought miserably, why are you doing this to
me?

‘How about if I stay until you are fast asleep?’

‘That’s not fair; you only care about Shona,’ Mimi said petulantly, going into one of her dramatic huffs, her lower lip stuck out stubbornly. Maggie realized that it
wouldn’t surprise her one bit if Mimi ended up on the stage. Even at this age, she had a flair for dramatics.

‘Don’t be silly. You know I love you and Michael as much as I love Shona. Now let’s watch
The Little Mermaid
and then I’ll read you a story in bed,’ Maggie
said firmly.

‘Will you read us the one about Higgledy Piggledy Hilda?’ Mimi cast a sideways glance up at her mother. Maggie’s heart sank. ‘Higgledy Piggledy Hilda’ was a very
long story and normally Maggie did not read it at bed time, keeping it for a rainy Saturday afternoon, when all other forms of childish entertainment had been exhausted. Mimi was perfectly well
aware of this, but little manipulator that she was, she knew she had played her trump card by her accusation of not caring. If Maggie refused to read ‘Higgledy Piggledy Hilda’ that
would also constitute a not-caring offence and Mimi would go into a mega-huff. Mother nil, daughter one. Game, set and match to Mimi.

Maggie could not help but be amused at how her daughter had, as many times previously, completely outmanoeuvred her. Mimi was an extremely strong-willed little girl and Maggie knew that rearing
her was not going to be an easy task. Her daughter had a mind of her own and was frequently openly defiant of her mother. Because she was the apple of her father’s eye, most of the chastising
was left to Maggie, which she felt was totally unfair, but she also knew that Mimi needed a firm hand if she wasn’t to grow up into a wild undisciplined brat. She was the dominant twin,
always ordering her brother around and making the decisions, and Michael, who was generally a placid, cheerful little boy, was perfectly happy to be bossed around by his sister. It was something
Maggie kept a watchful eye on. She didn’t want her son to become a submissive child and she was always trying to get him to be a little more assertive and a little less dependent on his twin.
Rearing children was fraught with such difficulties, she thought. Maybe she was just a worrier but she wanted to raise her children to be well-rounded individuals with a sense of their own
worth.

Perhaps if her mother and father hadn’t made her feel she was inferior to her brothers, she might not now be in such difficulties in her relationship with her husband. If she had grown up
to have more confidence in herself, to be more assertive, she wouldn’t have these ridiculous feelings of guilt at taking a weekend break with her friends or about her writing career. Well, at
least Mimi would never feel inferior to anyone; that was something. Maggie turned to her son. ‘What would you like me to read, Michael? I think it’s your turn to choose the story
tonight,’ she said, hoping that he might ask for his favourite, ‘Ivor the Engine’.

‘He’d like “Higgledy Piggledy Hilda” too, wouldn’t you, Michael?’ Mimi butted in.

‘Now Mimi, let Michael make up his own mind,’ Maggie instructed.

Michael shot his twin a look of triumph. ‘I think I’d like . . . mmmm . . . maybe “Ivor the Engine” . . .’ Maggie gave a smug smile. Thank you, my son, she thought
fondly. ‘Or maybe I’d like “Postman Pat”.’ He looked up at Maggie, his wide hazel eyes with their long sweep of black lashes gazing trustingly at her. ‘Achurly,
Mammy, I’d really like, really really,
really
like “Pinocchio” if you don’t mind,’ he added politely. Oh crikey! thought Maggie in dismay.
‘Pinocchio’ was even longer than ‘Higgledy Piggledy Hilda’.

‘Oh yes, “Pinocchio”.’ Mimi brightened up. ‘Please, Mammy, please,’ she wheedled.

‘Come on, the pair of you then,’ Maggie said, smiling. You just couldn’t win.

By the time she had read them their story, given them their last drink of water, got herself dressed and dried her hair, it was almost eight-thirty. Terry would probably think she was delaying
on purpose after their row but there was nothing she could do about it. With a heavy heart she bade goodbye to Caroline. She really was not looking forward to going into that hospital and spending
another night there. She was certainly not looking forward to another hostile encounter with her husband. Was this how a marriage broke up? Did every couple go through stormy patches like these?
Looking back she couldn’t remember her parents ever arguing that much but they were different times. Her mother’s expectations in no way compared with Maggie’s. Nelsie had been
quite prepared to rear her children and help her husband on the farm. Having a career other than that of mother and wife was something that had never crossed her mother’s mind. Or that of
Terry’s mother either.

But these were different times. Maggie was lucky that having a career was a choice rather than a necessity. She knew many friends and ex-colleagues who had to work outside the home to pay the
bills, whether they liked it or not. Mind you, Terry hadn’t turned up his nose at the prospect of a bit of extra cash. As long as her writing didn’t put him out in any way, he
didn’t care, but if she started expecting him to take over household chores and look after the kids every so often, that was a different matter. It was the unfairness of his attitude that
annoyed Maggie so much, but nothing would make him change his mind. She knew her husband of old and she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to spend the rest of her life living with his
selfishness. The shrill tone of the phone brought her back to earth and she answered it, half-expecting it to be Terry. The voice that greeted her at the other end of the phone made Maggie’s
heart skip a beat and involuntarily her hands tightened on the receiver as upstairs she could hear Caroline trying to mediate in an argument about ownership of a colouring book.

Twenty-Two

‘Can you talk?’ Adam asked, and Maggie longed to be able to say yes, longed with all her heart to tell him about
City Woman
. But it was too awkward, what
with the children misbehaving, Caroline upstairs and the realization that she was late for the hospital.

‘Not really. When did you get home?’ She tried to keep her voice steady.

‘Ten minutes ago,’ Adam laughed down the phone and her spirits rose effervescently. ‘I missed you, Maggie,’ he said softly.