City Woman (16 page)

‘She probably won’t talk to me for months,’ he said ruefully. ‘She wants to start proceedings for trespass and nuisance against her new neighbours. They’re nice
people, Caroline. I met them,’ he said in irritation. ‘The children are only toddlers.’

‘Why don’t you get her to put up a fence?’

‘That’s a good idea,’ he reflected. ‘I know her garden is precious to her and the next time I see those people I’ll ask them to try and get the kids not to kick the
ball in because it upsets her. But to start going on about going to court at this stage . . .’

‘Well, at least it wasn’t a medical emergency,’ Caroline said diplomatically.

‘Huh,’ snorted Richard. ‘My mother has the constitution of a horse, but I’ll tell you one thing – I pity any doctor who has to look after her.’ A note of
self-doubt crept into his voice. ‘I suppose I should ring her back. Maybe I was a bit harsh with her.’

‘Why don’t you leave it until she’s cooled down a bit,’ Caroline advised. ‘Give her a call first thing in the morning.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.

When he had gone, she cleared off the table, scraping the remains of their meal into the bin. What a waste of a lovely meal. Richard was right: things never did go to plan. Here she was, alone
in the penthouse. Well, she’d better get used to it, because she couldn’t hang on to her husband’s apron strings for ever. Or he to hers. They were going to have to decide about
their future.

She got an attack of the collywobbles and her heart started to palpitate. Caroline swallowed hard. Right now the last thing she needed was a panic attack. There weren’t even any Valium in
the house now. Why did it happen? Every time she thought about her future and being independent, this awful fluttering started inside, making her palms go sweaty and her head turn dizzy. Dr Cole,
her GP, had explained it to her and she knew that she must keep her breathing calm and even. No-one had ever died of a panic attack, he had told her reassuringly.

What use were all her fine words now? What was all that about taking control? What a spoofer you are, she thought unhappily, as she stood gripping the sink.

A more positive thought pushed its way through:
this is your big chance; try it
. Breathe evenly the way you were taught. In, out, in, out. Keep it up. Slowly, her heartbeat settled
down. Gradually the intensity of the panic diminished and eventually it ebbed away. It was still there, but it wasn’t in control. ‘I did it, I did it!’ she congratulated herself
aloud. ‘Now I’m going to clean up the kitchen, and then I’m going to unpack my bags and do some washing. I’m going down to the pool for a swim and then I’m going to
come back and have a bath and some hot chocolate and I’m going to read my
Hello!
in bed.’ She instructed herself in loud, firm tones, the sound of her voice oddly reassuring.
‘I just don’t have time for a panic attack.’

Nothing answered her back. The panic attack had no voice to argue with her. ‘Just go away,’ she said, emboldened. She gave a shaky grin. ‘You’re a nutcase, Caroline
Yates. Talking to yourself in the kitchen!’ But it had worked.

Wasn’t that better than a drink or a Valium, she thought with relief as she put the dishes into the dishwasher and wiped down the counter tops. For the first time ever she had stood up to
a panic attack. She had taken control. It was a great feeling that she had taken the first big step in her new life with courage. And that was the way it would be from now on. Her new life started
from now.

Twelve

‘Couldn’t you get a second opinion?’ Richard suggested, as he made coffee for Charles and himself that evening.

‘This
is
a second opinion, Richard. That’s why I went to London for the weekend,’ Charles said gently. ‘And I must accept it and deal with it, just as
you’ll have to.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before now? Why did you keep it to yourself? How long have you kept this from me?’ Richard was nearly in tears as he ran his fingers through his
well-cut tawny hair.

‘I’ve told you, Richard, I didn’t want to burden you,’ the older man said wearily. ‘With Caroline trying to commit suicide and then drying out and the way you and
she were for a while, I thought you had enough on your hands. I didn’t want you to go to pieces. Caroline needed you.’

‘You needed me too, and as usual I wasn’t there for you. I’ve ruined Caroline’s life. I’ve been ashamed of us, terrified of any whiff of scandal. I’m
pathetic. I don’t know how you put up with me.’

‘Oh, it’s a bit of a trial, I admit, particularly when you’re being theatrical like this. But I cope,’ Charles retorted.

Richard caught his eye and laughed in spite of himself. ‘God, I’m sorry, Chas. Here I am being sorry for myself as usual – and you must be feeling like death.’ The colour
drained from his face and he shook his head. ‘Oh Christ, what an insensitive remark. I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what to say.’

Lighting up his pipe, Charles said, ‘It’s something we’ve all got to face. Some of us sooner rather than later. I don’t want you to start considering every word before
you speak, for fear of saying something inappropriate. I’d hate that, Richard. Please promise me that we will continue to talk as freely as we’ve always done about what is in our minds
and hearts. Our honesty has been one of the most enriching things in our relationship for me.’

Richard came over to the sofa and put his arms around the other man. ‘I promise, Charles. It’s as important to me as it is to you. But I . . . I just don’t know how to handle
the new situation.’

‘Neither do I, Richard. We’ll just have to learn as we go along. Don’t worry; we’ll muddle through. We have until now, haven’t we?’

‘Well, don’t go putting on a cheerful face just for me. Promise me that if you’re scared or in the dumps or in pain you’ll tell me,’ Richard requested
earnestly.

‘I will.’

Richard took a deep breath. ‘Could they be wrong about the time-span?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Who knows,’ Charles said gruffly. ‘All I want is time to put my affairs in order.’

‘What are you going to do? Do you mean you’re thinking of finishing up work?’

‘I think I will, Richard. I had the idea of going over to Boston; my brother’s an oncologist there. Even though I love the law and I’ve worked hard at it, I feel I’ve
given enough of my life to it now. I’ve made a hell of a lot of money in the past few years – would you mind if I left a whack of it to charity?’

‘Charles, please, just leave your money to whoever or whatever you like. Whatever makes you happy.’

‘
You
make me happy,’ the older man smiled, and Richard hung his head. He had been
so
selfish about their relationship, particularly when he insisted on marrying
Caroline against Charles’s advice. But then, Charles had always been able to accept without any shame that he was homosexual. Unlike Richard, who did not have the courage to face the
truth.

Well, Charles had six months to a year to live, and Richard was going to make sure that it was the best possible time for him. He hoped that Caroline would understand the reasons for the
decision he was about to take. Right now, Charles needed him and he was determined to be by his side. If his wife didn’t accept that, it would be hard, but he had to make a commitment for
once in his life.

Caroline sat up in bed and glanced at her alarm clock. Seven-thirty. Well, she’d survived the night. Not too bad for a woman on her own, who was subject to panic attacks.
It had been a good move to go for a swim; she had swum twenty lengths and really worn herself out before going to bed. True, it had taken her a while to get to sleep, as the events of the day
weaved in and out of her mind. It was hard to accept the news about Charles.

Richard had phoned about eleven to see if she was all right and then he had passed the phone to Charles, who had thanked her for sending Richard to spend the night with him. She had choked up
completely at the sound of his deep voice, and could only say brokenly, ‘I’m so sorry, Charles, I’m so sorry.’

Charles offered her words of comfort. ‘I’ve had a good life and a lot of love. I’m a contented man, so please don’t take it so hard, my dear Caroline.’

She had pulled herself together for his sake but when he hung up she cried. She felt better for it, the lump in her throat dissolving with her tears. Having a cry was good for you, a therapist
in the clinic had once told her, and ever since she had taken her advice. Instead of suppressing feelings of anger and grief, she was learning to express them, and it was helping. When she recalled
how she had spoken to Richard at dinner that evening, she knew she was much more assertive, in fact a completely different woman from what she had been even six months earlier.

Yawning, she thought how funny it was that the noises that she had grown used to over the years seemed different when she was in the apartment on her own. But it had been a long day, what with
the drive back from Rosslare Harbour, the news of Charles and then her marathon swim, and eventually she had drifted into sleep.

She was sitting down to breakfast when the phone rang. ‘Put me on to Richard,’ Sarah Yates ordered.

‘I’m afraid he’s not here, Mrs Yates.’

‘Not there! Where is he at this hour of the morning?’

‘He had to leave early,’ Caroline replied. ‘You might catch him at the office. I don’t know. Good morning, Mrs Yates.’ She hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
The way things were going, Richard would soon have to ask his mother’s permission to go to the loo. What a dragon! And she was getting worse as she got older.

She’d better get a move on, she thought, glancing at the clock. She was showing a house in Santry and an apartment in Glasnevin this morning, and she had to go to the office first to
collect the keys. It was great that she had got part-time work with her old employers. Three days a week was better than nothing, and she really looked forward to going into work after the aimless
emptiness of doing nothing day-in, day-out except looking at videos and drinking and buying clothes that she didn’t need and attending boring functions with Richard. Going back to work after
coming out of hospital had given her something to hold on to and was helping to restore her sense of self-worth. Although Richard was very generous with money and she had her own cheque-book and
credit cards, what she earned for herself gave her great satisfaction.

She was looking forward to this morning. She loved showing properties. She liked matching clients to places, and it was always a thrill when someone decided to buy and got all excited about the
property and the sale went through. Especially she loved dealing with young couples who were buying their first home, envying them their dreams and anticipation. She had dreams when she married
Richard but they had been rudely shattered. She’d never gone house-hunting either; she had walked into this penthouse she herself had sold Richard. That was the first time she had ever met
him, and she remembered how impressed she’d been by his suaveness, immaculate grooming and lovely manners. She’d been so impressed, too, when he’d decided to opt for the
penthouse, never dreaming that she would end up living there herself.

When Caroline moved in, the apartment had already been decorated and even though she had recently done some redecoration, she never really felt it was hers or that she was part of it. Listening
to couples planning how they would redecorate the houses they were viewing always brought home to her just how unlike most married couples she and Richard were. But at least everything was out in
the open between them now, and there was no more drinking or beatings.

She went into the bedroom, picked up her briefcase and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The weekend in the sun had done her the world of good, and in her stone-coloured linen suit she
looked smart and fresh. The traffic wasn’t too bad, and an hour later she was on her way to the first property, having picked up the keys and documentation from the city-centre office. It was
a house in a fairly new estate on the Coolock side of the Santry bypass, put on the market by a young couple with two children who were moving to Cork.

She let herself into the four-bedroomed semi and inspected the rooms. Her mouth tightened in annoyance as she noted the untidiness. Honestly, some people were beyond belief! Here she was trying
to sell a house and emphasize its good points and they hadn’t even bothered to clean the bathroom! She noted in disgust the dribble of toothpaste down the side of the avocado wash-basin. Did
the vendors not stop to consider that a favourable first impression was of the utmost importance? She had seen people put completely off houses by dirt and untidiness. In one house that she had
sold recently, the owners, who had already vacated the premises, had left a bin in the kitchen overflowing with refuse and soiled nappies. Well, it wasn’t up to her to go tidying up, so she
went back downstairs to the lounge to await the first viewers.

They arrived about ten minutes later, a young couple with a child in a push-chair. Caroline showed them around, then brought them out the back to view the garden. By then, two further sets of
viewers were on the doorstep: a middle-aged couple and a woman in her thirties who worked in the airport and was a first-time buyer. The middle-aged couple were very pleasant, and Caroline honestly
didn’t think the house would suit them at all. She said, as diplomatically as possible, ‘This is a fairly new estate and in another couple of years you’re going to have lots of
children and teenagers kicking ball and playing on the streets and greens. Do you not think you might be better off going for a more mature area?’

‘There, Joan, didn’t I tell you that?’ the husband said triumphantly.

‘I don’t want to move too far from Jill and the children,’ the woman explained. Caroline nodded sympathetically when she heard that Jill was their daughter and lived in Santry.
‘My son’s a pilot and he lives off Griffith Avenue, so I want to be near them both. Our own house has dry-rot, and we thought we’d move rather than go through all the hassle of
getting a job done on it. Besides,’ she confided in Caroline, ‘we’ve dreadful new neighbours for the past year or so. They’ve made our lives a misery and we just want to get
out.’