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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: City Woman
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‘Well, the market research has certainly been pretty positive,’ Luke agreed. ‘We’ll know soon enough.’

‘It’s exciting though, isn’t it?’ Devlin’s eyes sparkled. She loved this kind of buzz: she was in her element plotting and planning and getting things moving.


You’re
exciting,’ Luke said wickedly, tightening his arms around her.

‘We’ll be late for lunch,’ Devlin demurred.

‘We’ve lashings of time,’ Luke murmured, bending his head to kiss her.

‘My God! I’ll never get through all that,’ Florence exclaimed wide-eyed as a portion of lasagne that would have fed the four of them was placed in front of
her.

‘I’m starving,’ Devlin declared, as she prepared to tuck into a mountain of scampi. Luke caught her eye knowingly and Devlin blushed. Fortunately Lynda Jayne who was sitting
opposite her, at Luke’s side, was smiling at the waitress as she placed a steaming plate of ravioli in front of her. ‘I told you the food here was great,’ she laughed.

They were having lunch in the Cultra Inn, which was set in the grounds of the magnificent Culloden Hotel, a classic nineteenth-century Scottish baronial palace. It was a beautiful place,
recommended heartily by Arthur. Set in the wooded slopes of the Holywood hills, it had stunning views of Belfast Lough and the Antrim coastline. The inn itself was separate from the main hotel and
it had a charming rustic atmosphere, emphasized by the black wooden beams and the small lanterns hanging from them. The atmosphere was very convivial and relaxed and Devlin sat back and prepared to
enjoy herself. It was Luke’s first time to meet Lynda and Florence and they were all getting on like a house on fire.

‘Did you know that the hotel was once the official palace of the bishops of Down?’ Lynda said, as she attacked her ravioli with gusto.

‘Wow! Lucky old bishops!’ Devlin exclaimed enviously. ‘How come they always end up with a palace? Our fella in Dublin has one in Drumcondra.’

‘The Church must have been loaded,’ Luke remarked, ‘to have been able to afford a pile like this.’

‘You should see the beautiful antiques and paintings,’ Florence remarked, ‘and, Devlin, the Louis XV candeliers are out of this world. You and Luke should take a walk in the
grounds after lunch and then have a drink in the Gothic Bar . . .’

‘. . . and you should take Luke home past Stormont,’ Lynda interjected. ‘At this time of the year it is something to behold. The trees have all turned and the colours are
amazing.’

Lynda and Florence declared that they were dying for the opening of the Belfast City Girl. Devlin knew that in Lynda’s capable hands the opening ceremony would be a great success. After
they had gone, Devlin and Luke took their advice and strolled arm in arm through the picturesque grounds of the hotel and then down a quiet country lane that brought them right on to the shores of
Belfast Lough.XX

‘Isn’t it beautiful here?’ Devlin gazed at the peaceful panorama. ‘You never see this side of the North. It’s always the horror of the Troubles.’

‘It’s hard to reconcile this with the sight of the soldiers and the armoured cars. I wonder how people ever get used to them?’ Luke mused. He found it hard to adjust to the
military presence on the streets. Devlin, who had been a regular visitor to Belfast, had come to accept it.

‘I suppose you get used to anything,’ Devlin murmured. ‘I suppose it’s a case of having to. But it’s such a shame. The people are so friendly and helpful. One man
said to me he’s lived here all his life and he’s never even been caught up in a bomb scare. But if it’s not bad news it will never get on TV.’

‘Well, that goes for most of the media worldwide. It’s in the nature of the beast, isn’t it?’ Luke expertly skimmed a flat stone across the waves. ‘I wonder would a
newspaper that reported only good news sell at all?’

‘It could be our next venture,’ teased Devlin as she tried to copy him. But to her dismay her stone sank beneath the water without so much as one hop.

‘Let the expert show you how it’s done,’ Luke said smugly repeating his previous success.

‘Show-off!’ retorted Devlin, as she tried again and had the satisfaction of two hops before her stone sank. Half an hour later she had mastered the skill, though only after much
laughter and teasing.

‘I’m really enjoying myself,’ she said, smiling, as they walked back to the car.

‘Me too! We’ll have to go away somewhere for a few days that isn’t business.’

‘Definitely!’ Devlin agreed. ‘As soon as Belfast is up and running.’

‘I meant for Christmas,’ Luke said firmly.

‘OK,’ Devlin agreed, leaving her companion speechless.

‘Without even an argument?’ he murmured, hiding his amazement.

‘I’m a changed person, don’t forget!’ Devlin said with a grin. ‘I think I’d like to go to Bali.’

‘I was thinking in terms of somewhere a bit nearer, darling. Paris maybe. But if it’s Bali you want, then Bali you’ll have.’

‘I’ll get the brochures,’ Devlin laughed. She wasn’t serious, but it gave her a warm glow to know that if she really wanted to go to Bali, Luke would take her there. He
really did spoil her.

They drove back to Belfast via Stormont as Lynda had suggested and sat for a while admiring the stupendous view of Parliament House that both of them had seen so many times on television. The
rolling lawns sweeping up to the bank of steps fronting the elegant white colonnaded building looked like something out of a picture postcard. The trees, green, gold and russet in their autumn
glory, were breathtaking, and the sun, sinking in a red-gold orb behind the hills, turned the sky to crimson.

‘It’s very very impressive in real life, isn’t it?’ Luke murmured.

‘Mmm,’ Devlin agreed. ‘I’ll look at it with new eyes when I see it on the news now and say to myself, ‘‘I’ve been there.’’ I’m really
glad you came to spend the few days in Belfast.’ Devlin leaned over and planted a big kiss on Luke’s cheek.

‘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.’

BOOK: City Woman
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