City Woman (17 page)

‘We happen to have three properties for sale in a mature estate in the Ballygall area,’ Caroline suggested. ‘That’s between Glasnevin and Wadelai. I think somewhere like
that would suit you much better and it would be no distance from Santry or Griffith Avenue. Why don’t I arrange a viewing for you?’

The husband looked hopefully at his wife. ‘That sounds just the ticket.’

‘That’s very kind of you, dear,’ the woman beamed. Caroline took their phone number and promised to get back to them with the arrangements. She waved them off happily, very
pleased with herself. One thing she had never done in her career as an estate agent was to sell a property that she knew did not really meet a client’s needs. It just wasn’t her style.
If she lost a commission because of it, so be it. It would have bothered her far more if she’d been tossing and turning at night feeling guilty – which she certainly would have been had
she sold that couple a house more suitable for a young family than for a pair nearing retirement.

The Aer Lingus woman was quite interested, and told Caroline she would get back to her as she had several other houses to view. The young couple weren’t too happy with the location of
schools and although there were several large shopping centres nearby, the wife didn’t like the idea of the nearest local shop being twenty minutes’ walk away.

After all the viewers had left, Caroline had a good half-hour to spare before her next appointment. As she drove along the Ballymun dual carriageway, she thought she might as well pop into a
shop and get something for her lunch. She turned left into Pappin’s Road and parked outside Network News. She could buy a few goodies for Maggie’s two elder children as she was going to
be babysitting them later on. She spent ten minutes selecting comics and colouring books, before buying a salad roll and yoghurt for herself in the supermarket, then another ten minutes in
Chambers, looking at make-up, for which she had a great weakness. She emerged with a new eyeshadow, lipstick and a matching nail-varnish, feeling a little buzz from her spree.

The apartment in Glasnevin overlooked the Botanic Gardens and was in immaculate condition. Standing on the balcony overlooking the Tolka River and the Rose Garden, she knew she’d have no
problems selling the property. Indeed, of the eight parties who came to view it, two, a young woman banker and a retired detective, informed her that they were willing to pay the asking price. She
told them that it would go to tender and invited them to submit their highest offer to her at the office in a sealed envelope.

Caroline was about to leave the apartment when her mobile phone rang. It was Richard to say that he was taking the rest of the day off work to spend it with Charles, who was anxious to start
putting his affairs in order.

‘I’ll be babysitting in Maggie’s until around nine. Will you be home tonight?’ Caroline asked.

‘I will,’ her husband said and then, ‘Caroline, I need to talk to you about something. Can we discuss it when you get home?’

She was puzzled at the urgency of his tone. ‘Of course, Richard.’

‘Look, I have to go, Caroline. Charles wants to make a will. Because he’s leaving me a bequest I can’t act for him so we’re going over to Shaun O’Rourke’s.
I’ll see you later and we’ll have a talk.’

‘OK,’ she said hastily. ‘By the way, your mother phoned this morning.’

‘I know. I got a lecture for using vulgar language.’ Caroline could sense that Richard was smiling as he hung up.

She wondered what he wanted to talk to her about. Well, she’d find out this evening. The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. She went back to the office, had her lunch,
completed her paperwork, made appointments for the following day’s viewings, and arranged for her middle-aged couple to see the three houses she had told them about. Then she drove home, had
a shower and changed into jeans and a T-shirt before setting off for Maggie’s.

The children were delighted to see her and pounced on their goodies with squeals of excitement. By the time she’d fed them, played with them, and finally got them to bed, she was whacked,
and she didn’t delay when Terry arrived home. She was relieved to put the key into her own front door, all ready to relax in front of the TV with a cup of coffee.

Richard was already at home. He looked tired.

‘How’s it going?’ Caroline hugged him. In the old days he would have rebuffed her expression of affection, fearing that she wanted an intimacy that he wasn’t capable of
sharing with her, but now he accepted her hug gratefully and hugged her back.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ he asked.

‘I’d love one,’ she smiled, kicking off her shoes and flopping into an armchair. Five minutes later he handed her a mug of coffee and a Club Milk. ‘Thanks,’ she
said appreciatively, taking a sip and unwrapping the snack.

‘Caroline.’ Richard started pacing the room. ‘The thing is . . . I hope you don’t think I’m an awful bastard . . .’ He stopped short, then blurted,
‘Charles wants to go and live in Boston. He has a property there and his brother is an oncologist in a hospital nearby, so he would be well taken care of . . .’ Richard paused again, as
if unsure how to continue.

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Caroline remarked, wondering why Richard should imagine that she would think he was an awful bastard.

‘Yes it is, but the thing is, I’d like to go and stay with him for as long as he needs me.’ Her husband turned and met her shocked gaze. ‘And that means leaving you on
your own.’

Thirteen

‘You want to go to Boston with Charles?’ Caroline repeated, stunned.

‘Yes, Caroline . . . I do,’ her husband said quietly.

‘When?’

‘Whenever he wants to go.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Caroline was completely taken aback by Richard’s bombshell.

‘Look, I know you probably think I’ve an awful cheek after all I’ve put you through to turn around suddenly and say that I want to go to Boston with Charles. But Caroline,
it’s the only chance I’ve got to make up to him for my selfishness in the past. Don’t you see that?’ he pleaded.

What about me? she wanted to shout.

Something of her feelings must have shown in her face because he said unhappily, ‘I’m sorry, Caroline. I know I’ve no right to expect you to see it from my side. I’ve
treated you every bit as badly as I’ve treated him. Why should I expect you to give me your blessing?’

‘What does Charles think about it?’ Caroline asked dully. Despite the fact that they hadn’t much of a marriage, she couldn’t but feel that her husband had betrayed her
once again.

‘He doesn’t know I’m even
thinking
of doing such a thing. Charles would have a fit if he thought I was walking out on you for him.’ He grimaced. ‘I was
kind of hoping that by saying you wouldn’t mind, you might persuade him to agree.’

‘What would you do about the practice?’ Caroline was amazed that her husband would consider leaving his thriving legal practice.

‘Well, I have Baldwin and Kenny there, and I’d let them get on with it. I would just wind down my own cases and not take on any more. Two solicitors in a practice is more than enough
to keep it going,’ Richard said eagerly, a glimmer of hope lightening his eyes. ‘You’d get paid every week of course. I’d arrange all that,’ he assured her.

Caroline said nothing. She couldn’t think straight. Richard was proposing leaving the practice in the hands of the two solicitors he employed and going off to Boston for God knows how long
so that he could be with Charles during his last illness!

She could understand his reasons and sympathize with them and indeed, if she had not been involved, she would have been full of admiration for this selfless gesture. But she
was
involved, very much involved, and it hurt her to think that Richard was so insensitive to her fragile emotional state that he did not realize the terrible effect the prospect of being left alone
would have on her.

Oh, yes, all along she had been saying that she would get her annulment and a foreign divorce and start afresh, but she had always thought that Richard would still be there in the background
– not thousands of miles away across the Atlantic. Making plans had been all very well, but she hadn’t thought that the moment of truth would come so soon. Now that the time seemed to
have come for them to split up for real, it was a very daunting prospect.

‘I know I’ve a bit of a cheek,’ he said miserably.

‘A
bit
of a cheek!’ she burst out resentfully. ‘I think you’ve a bloody big cheek. But what’s new? Don’t worry about good old Caroline; she
won’t mind; she’s been a mouse for so long that she won’t know the difference. Well, I
do
mind. I mind very much. I’m still your wife. If you take off for a year,
apart from leaving me on my own, who’s going to end up taking all the flak about our separation? Who’s going to have to answer all the questions about where you are? Muggins
here.’ Caroline glared at her husband. A thought struck her. ‘And what are you going to do about your mother?’

‘Well, the firm will handle her affairs as usual. I was going to pay her daily to do her shopping if she wants it . . . and I was hoping you’d keep an eye on her,’ Richard
muttered.

Caroline’s eyes widened at this, the greatest indignity so far. ‘You were, were you? What a nerve! Richard, you just go and fuck off for yourself.’ She got to her feet, picked
up her bag and slammed the sitting-room door behind her.

She was
so
angry, so absolutely door-slamming, cup-throwing, chair-kicking
angry
. She marched down the hall to her bedroom, slammed that door, flung her bag across the room and
threw herself on the bed.

What was it about her that no-one ever gave a shit about her feelings? How could Richard think that he could even
propose
such an idea? Not when she was still getting over the shock of
his homosexuality and recovering from her breakdown? It just wasn’t fair!

Oh, don’t be so childish, she turned on herself. It wasn’t fair! Grow up. Nothing is fair. Look at Charles. What was the good of keeping Richard in Dublin, by clinging on to the
pathetic idea that he was her husband. He wasn’t her husband; he never had been. And if she truly was serious about making a new life for herself, it would have to be on her own.

‘But I’m not ready for it, I’m not ready,’ she muttered into her pillow, as fear, rage and resentment took hold of her and bitter tears spilled down her cheeks.

What would he do if he couldn’t go to Boston to be with Charles? Richard paced up and down the sitting-room floor, frantically trying to find a solution. Maybe Caroline
could come with them? If he had asked her to come, she might not have been so hostile to the idea.

‘It wouldn’t work,’ he told himself glumly. What a
ménage à trois
that would be. He, his wife and his lover. No, it would be too awkward. It
wouldn’t be fair on his wife and it wouldn’t be fair on Charles. Scrap that brainwave. He had made a right mess of things and now he’d alienated Caroline. In his haste to make his
big sacrifice for Charles he hadn’t stopped to consider his wife’s feelings at all, assuming that Caroline would meekly accept his decision as usual and perhaps even admire him for it.
His plan had greatly backfired. Caroline had been really angry – and let him see it, too. It was rare for her to raise her voice to him. Well, he couldn’t blame her. Richard sighed. If
he lived to be a hundred, he could never make up to Caroline for the grief he had caused her and the mess he had made of her life. Caroline had said that his mother had spoilt him. Maybe she was
right, but now, when he
was
trying to make amends to Charles, it looked as if his great plan would come to naught. Charles would never agree to his accompanying him to Boston if he thought
for an instant that Caroline was unhappy with the idea. And to say that she was unhappy was the understatement of the century.

Richard went out to make himself another cup of coffee. At times like this he could understand why people turned to drink. He wouldn’t mind getting pissed out of his skull, now, and
forgetting all the problems that were besetting him. Caroline had brought up the subject of his mother. How would
she
react to the news that he was going to Boston to be with Charles?
Richard sipped his coffee and admitted to himself that his idea was a bit naïve. Sarah would definitely have something to say about him leaving what had been her husband’s practice in
the hands of junior solicitors. She would freak. No question. He had been fooling himself to think that he could just up and off and that people would back him up. Was he really planning to do this
to make up to Charles for the cowardly way he had abused their relationship and to show how much he loved him? Or was it to salve his own conscience? If he were to be totally honest, he would have
to admit it was a bit of both. Well, the way things were going, it looked as if he was going to get the chance to do neither.

‘Here.’ Caroline handed her husband a white form, an enclosure from one of the letters in the post that morning. It was three weeks since their acrimonious
discussion, and tension still simmered between them. Richard had not brought up again the subject of his departure for Boston but it was something that had occupied Caroline’s mind morning,
noon and night.

At first she had been adamantly opposed to the idea, but hours of tossing and turning and, in the end, being very severe on herself, had made her rethink her attitudes.

She had had dreadful panic attacks, some of the worst she had ever experienced, and it was these that made up her mind for her. The longer she existed in a state of limbo and indecision the
worse they were going to get. So, on one of her mornings off, she took her courage in her hands and followed a certain course of action. The white form that her husband was looking at in amazement
was a direct result of that decision.

‘Do you know what this is?’ He stared at her with a shocked expression.

‘Yes, Richard, I do,’ Caroline said quietly. ‘I do indeed.’

Fourteen