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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: City Woman
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If she was to keep her position as queen of the gossip columnists, she was going to have to fight for it. Right now, with the memory of the disdainful stares she had been subjected to by Lydia,
Devlin and Luke, it was a wearisome and depressing thought. She was getting too old for all that, Lucinda thought dispiritedly. Today she had completely lost her poise, something that had never
happened to her before. It had been a thoroughly unsettling experience.

‘You should have seen that Marshall woman’s face,’ Lydia said to her husband as they sipped their hot chocolate before retiring. ‘She nearly died.
She’ll rue the day she was so disgustingly cheap and underhand.’

Gerry gave his wife a warm hug. ‘I’m glad you went to lunch with Luke and Devlin. I think Devlin’s handling the whole affair superbly.’

‘I’ll tell you one thing, Gerry,’ Lydia said seriously. ‘It lifts my heart to see Devlin so happy with Luke. He’s the best thing that ever happened to her and if
anyone deserves a good man, she does. And I know the blessing it is to have a wonderful husband, even if I did realize it far too late in my life.’ Lydia leaned across the kitchen table and
kissed her husband on the cheek.

‘If they’re as happy and contented in thirty years’ time as we are now, Lydia, they’ll be doing very well for themselves,’ said Gerry, smiling lovingly at his
wife.

‘Congratulations, Devlin. More power to you.’ Trish Duncan, the well-known media consultant, held out her hand to Devlin, as she stood with Luke and her parents the
following evening, sipping a drink in the Horseshoe Bar prior to dining in Guilbauds.

‘Thanks, Trish,’ Devlin replied warmly, returning the firm handshake. Her interview had appeared in the
Chronicle
and Sally had kept to the letter of their conversation. All
day she had been receiving phone calls of congratulations and bouquets of flowers from people who wished her well. The warmth of the good wishes expressed by friends and acquaintances had taken her
very much by surprise.

As usual, the Horseshoe was packed with movers and shakers and Devlin and the others were quite glad to leave to make the short journey to the plush restaurant. It was nice to sit and linger
over their meal, relaxed in one another’s company. Devlin was very happy that her parents liked and admired Luke. Later, she and Luke drove Lydia and Gerry home and stayed to have coffee with
them. It was well after midnight when they left to go to Devlin’s apartment, and as they drove back over towards the northside, Devlin asked Luke if he would drive up O’Connell Street
so she could get the Sunday papers from the vendor on O’Connell Bridge.

‘Are you sure you want to do this, Devlin?’ Luke was not keen on the idea. ‘I really don’t think you should even consider reading that trash.’

‘I have to read it, Luke,’ Devlin said grimly. ‘I’d prefer to know what’s in it.’

‘What’s the point in tormenting yourself?’ he argued.

‘Luke, I want to read it and that’s all there is about it,’ Devlin snapped.

‘Fine,’ he said curtly, and headed for O’Connell Street. They sat in strained silence. Reaching O’Connell Bridge, Luke slowed the car to a halt and bought a selection of
papers, including the
Sunday Echo
. ‘There!’ He thrust them at her and started the ignition.

A lump rose in Devlin’s throat. Her emotions were very near the surface after the strain of the previous forty-eight hours, and she felt terribly tired.

‘Don’t be mad at me, Luke,’ she pleaded.

‘I’m not mad at you, Devlin,’ he sighed. ‘I’m just trying to prevent you from getting hurt.’

‘I have to read it,’ she said. He said nothing, but a little later pulled the car in on the quay just below Butt Bridge and switched on the interior light. A silver crescent moon
dappled the waters of the Liffey, which shimmered like silk as they lapped the quay walls. There was a high tide and the cream-and-black Guinness boats, long a feature of the river, undulated
gracefully on the inky waters.

‘I love the Guinness Boats,’ Devlin commented. Now that the car was stationary, she was strangely reluctant to read the dreaded article.

‘I knew a lad who worked on them,’ said Luke, who was once a sailor himself and felt solidarity with all things nautical. ‘We kept in touch. He went deep sea and he’s
going to miss his daughter’s Holy Communion this May. I couldn’t cope with that. That’s one of the reasons I swallowed the anchor.’

‘You what?’

‘Swallowed the anchor. It’s a sailor’s saying for when you get a job ashore,’ Luke explained with a smile. ‘It’s very hard to have a relationship or be
married when you’re at sea.’

‘I’m glad you’re not at sea,’ Devlin said quietly. Then she picked up the
Sunday Echo
, saw the picture of herself emblazoned across the top and turned to the
page of the interview. Silently, she read the scurrilous columns. One sentence jumped out at her. ‘Although the death of her baby daughter was very tragic, some good came of it, for it was
with the massive insurance settlement that she received that Devlin was able to set up the hugely successful City Girl Health and Leisure Complex.’ Her face whitened and she gave a little
gasp. Wordlessly she handed the article to Luke. He read it, his face growing hard and grim. Leaning across her, he opened her door.

‘Get out of the car, Devlin,’ he said gently. Mystified, she stared at him. ‘Come on, get out. I want you to do something.’

Slowly she did as he asked her, shivering as the chill north wind penetrated her coat and dress. Luke got out and she joined him by the quay wall. He handed her back the paper.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘Throw this garbage in the river and say: “From this moment in my life I will never look back. I will live my life to the full in my present and I will look
forward to my future with hope and anticipation.” ’

‘Oh Luke!’ She was so touched she could barely speak.

He took her hand. ‘Throw it and say the words with me.’

Holding his hand tightly, she flung the paper into the Liffey and spoke the words with his encouragement. Hand in hand they stood in the moonlight and watched her past floating, slowly at first
and then faster and faster as it swirled in the current until it disappeared out of sight down the winding river towards the great open sea.

‘I really enjoyed that walk.’ Devlin shook the sand off her runners before opening the door to the foyer of the apartment. She and Luke had had a lazy day. They had
stayed in bed until midday and then he had cooked her a tasty brunch, after which they had sat curled up in front of the fire reading the papers. Around four, Luke had suggested a walk on Bull
Island. It was a wild day and they had had to put their heads down and battle against the elements. The wind whipped the waves up to a fury and the spray lashed them as they trudged along the
seashore. Devlin’s ears, nose and cheeks were numb with cold but she didn’t care. She loved the wind blowing through her hair and the invigorating rush of blood to her cheeks as the
salty, tangy wind cleared the cobwebs from her mind.

She had her memories of Lynn. She had her career, she had her health, two loving parents, Caroline and Maggie and the joy of her life, Luke. She was lucky and she knew it.

She tucked her arm into Luke’s. ‘Come on, let’s open a bottle of champagne and have a bath to warm us up and a night all to ourselves.’

‘You wicked wanton woman,’ he laughed.

‘Is that a yes?’ she twinkled.

‘That’s a very definite yes.’ Luke’s eyes were warm and loving as he held the door of the lift open for her. He kissed her soundly as the elevator glided up to the
penthouse.

‘I’d better check my messages,’ she murmured, as she noticed the red light on her answering machine flashing insistently.

‘I’ll run the bath and pour the champagne.’ Luke brushed his lips along the nape of her neck, sending delicious tingles of desire up and down her spine.

‘Hmmmm,’ she murmured appreciatively, pressing the button on the machine.

‘Devlin,’ came her dad’s voice, sounding strangely tense and harassed. ‘I’m ringing from St Vincent’s Hospital. It’s your mother; she’s taken an
overdose. Will you come as quickly as you can?’

Fifty-Two

‘Why did she do it?’ Devlin was distraught. Gerry’s eyes flooded with tears and she flung her arms around him. ‘It’s all right, Dad, she’s
going to be all right. Thank God you found her in time.’

‘Poor, poor Lydia.’ Gerry wiped his eyes. ‘If I could get my hands on those bitches . . .’

Devlin was instantly alert. ‘What bitches?’

‘Oh, you know, Angeline Callahan and Jane Kelleher; they’re on the committee to raise funds for that new unit in that maternity hospital where Colin Cantrell-King works. They had the
nerve to call over this afternoon and demand Lydia’s resignation from the committee. The cheek of them. Lydia has raised more money for that unit than the whole bloody lot of them put
together.’ Gerry, usually an even-tempered man, was beside himself with anger and hurt for his wife.

‘This is all my fault.’ Devlin was close to tears. Lydia had taken an overdose because of her and her past. She was swamped by a mixture of guilt, fear and terrible anger at the
self-righteous society ladies who had humiliated her mother.

‘It’s not your fault, Devlin. It’s those bastards who set you up.’ Gerry held his weeping daughter in his arms as Luke stood in front of them, shielding them from view in
the busy hospital corridor.

‘Why don’t we go and have coffee?’ he suggested. ‘Didn’t you say, Gerry, that they were keeping Lydia under observation and that you wouldn’t be allowed to
see her for a while?’

‘That’s right, Luke. They’ve pumped her stomach but they want to keep an eye on her blood-pressure. It’s gone sky-high. She won’t be brought up to the ward just
yet.’

‘I’ll go and get us some coffee, then. Why don’t you go and sit down and try and relax?’ Luke said kindly, as concerned for Gerry as he was for Devlin.

‘Yes, we’ll do that,’ Gerry agreed, relieved to let Luke take charge. ‘He’s one sound man,’ Gerry said to Devlin as they walked down the corridor to the TV
room.

‘He’s kept me sane this weekend, that’s for sure,’ Devlin said shakily. ‘Poor Mum! I’ve ruined everything for her,’ she sighed.

‘Devlin, if that’s the kind of unchristian, uncharitable women they are, Lydia’s better off without them and their bloody committee. I think she really didn’t want to
kill herself. I was in the lounge watching the sports highlights when I heard an awful thump and I found her collapsed half-way down the stairs with the tablet container in her hand. She was coming
down to tell me she had taken the tablets: I know she was.’ Gerry was insistent. ‘You know your mother: she goes off at half-cock sometimes.’

‘I know.’ Devlin smiled at her father’s description of her sometimes melodramatic mother.

‘You know,’ Gerry mused, ‘I think I might take her away on a holiday after all this. We could do with a break. I’ll ask her what she thinks.’

‘That’s a good idea, Dad. I could do with a holiday myself,’ Devlin said wryly.

‘Why don’t you go out to Caroline? You were talking about it at one stage,’ Gerry suggested.

‘That’s a very good idea.’ Luke had arrived in time to overhear the last remark. ‘A holiday away from everything is just what you need, Devlin.’

‘I’ll see,’ Devlin said offhandedly and Luke raised his eyes to heaven.

It was another hour before Lydia was brought up to the ward. When she arrived she was still drowsy, but looking better.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, as Gerry and Devlin leaned over to kiss her.

‘Just rest yourself, Lydia. Devlin and I are here.’ Gerry took her hand in his. They stayed with her for a while until the nurse told them it was time to leave. Devlin went ahead, to
give Gerry a bit of privacy with his wife for a few moments. Luke was waiting outside.

‘We have to go now,’ she told him.

‘I was just thinking: should we ask your dad to stay the night with us? I don’t think we should let him go home on his own tonight. He could stay with us or we could stay with him.
If he comes over to the penthouse he can have the guest-room and I’ll sleep on one of the sofas so as not to make him feel uncomfortable.’ Devlin was struck once again by Luke’s
sensitivity and kindness. When his own father had been alive, Luke had always been very good to him, a trait that she had always admired.

‘I’ll miss you.’ She slipped an arm around him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

‘We can send erotic vibes to each other,’ he said with his usual grin.

‘It’s a very cold night,’ she sighed.

‘I’ll make you a hot water bottle.’

‘You’re very good, Luke.’ She stretched up to kiss him.

‘Actually I’m in line for canonization! Didn’t you know that? I’m a saint in the making,’ he teased as Gerry joined them.

Her father jumped at the offer of staying with them and Devlin was glad it was Luke who had suggested it.

The following morning, after Gerry had phoned the hospital and been told that Lydia had slept normally through the night and was much better, he and Devlin decided to go to work for a couple of
hours. They arranged to meet at the hospital later in the morning. Gerry went off to the bank feeling much relieved and Luke and Devlin had a cup of coffee together before she left for City Girl.
She wanted Luke to fly back to London later in the day. He had been extremely good to her, very generous with his time, but Devlin knew he was a busy man and she felt guilty about keeping him from
his business.

‘Why don’t I wait until tomorrow?’ he suggested as he tidied up with her after their breakfast.

‘Luke, I’ve got to get on with it, and it’s not fair keeping you from work. I’ll be fine.’

‘I like being here with you, Devlin. One more day isn’t going to cause chaos. Dianne could run that company without me; she’s a terrific asset. I rarely take holidays so this
is my time off. Don’t send me back to work. I’m overworked! Think of my health.’

‘You’re a brat, Luke Reilly!’ Devlin burst out laughing. He was impossible to resist. So, happily, she accepted his decision to stay another day.

She arrived into her office to find a magnificent basket of red, yellow and white carnations on her desk, with a card signed by all the members of her staff offering her their support and good
wishes. Devlin was very touched by their gesture, her morale boosted by their concern. This whole sorry episode had brought home to her just how many friends and supporters she had and, deciding to
keep hold of that thought, she called Liz and got stuck into her agenda immediately.

BOOK: City Woman
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