City Woman (24 page)

‘Liar! Liar! knickers on fire,’ Michael taunted.

Mimi’s eyes grew round. ‘Oh, Mammy, he said—’ the voice was lowered dramatically, ‘—
knickers
,’ she declared, horrified, ever the little
lady.

‘Stop fighting this minute,’ Maggie warned.

‘Where’s our presents from your holiday?’ Mimi changed the subject to one that interested her far more.

‘That’s lovely,’ Maggie declared, as she smiled at Josie. ‘No-one even gave me a kiss or a hug or a cuddle. Poor Mammy, no-one loves her any more!’ Immediately she
was enveloped in two pairs of arms as the twins scrambled on to her lap to give her the required kisses and cuddles.

‘By the way,’ said Josie, as she prepared to leave, ‘a woman named Marcy Elliot called several times in the hopes of getting you. She wants you to phone her at the office
tomorrow and she said you are to keep Wednesday afternoon free to meet her. I told her you had a child in hospital but she said if possible she’d like to meet you on Wednesday.’

‘Oh Lord, I was supposed to give her a call today. It just went stright out of my head.’ Maggie ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Fine, Josie, thanks, I’ll look after
that and thanks for today. You’re a brick.’

‘You’re welcome. There’s a bit of shepherd’s pie in the oven for you. See you tomorrow.’ Josie waved at the children and let herself out.

‘Mammy, can I have my hair in a tail-pony tomorrow?’ Mimi enquired. ‘My friend Joanna is having hers done in a tail-pony instead of plaits.’

‘’Course you can.’ Maggie kissed her little daughter on the top of her head and smiled to herself. Mimi could be such a little madam. And the things she came out with! Only
last week they had gone to Mass and a coffin was lying at the Altar of Repose and at the top of her voice, her three-year-old had enquired, wide-eyed: ‘Mammy, why is there a treasure chest
over there?’ Maggie had been speechless. She cuddled her children close to her. They were so precious and at this age so adorable – when they weren’t fighting. ‘Come on,
let’s get you pair into your pyjamas and as soon as I’ve had my dinner we’ll have a game of Matching Pairs.’ Cheers of delight greeted this pronouncement as the pair
scurried off to get undressed. Limp, Maggie sat flopped in the chair. Thanks to the brats who had broken into her car, she was going to have to wait for Terry to come home and then get a taxi into
the hospital. Before she did anything else she decided she had better try and make some arrangements to have Mimi and Michael looked after the next day. Picking up the phone, she dialled
Caroline’s number.

‘It’s imperative that we meet very soon, Maggie.’ Maggie stifled a yawn as she listened to her editor at the other end of the phone. She had been up since
six-forty-five, when the nurses had called her to say that Shona was awake and fretful. So far her temperature had not been brought under control and she was a very sick little girl.
‘We’re anxious to have you out in time for the Christmas market and that means a very short lead-in period,’ Marcy continued. ‘So we’ve got to get working on the
rewrites. That’s why I want to meet you tomorrow afternoon. I’ve kept it free so that I can start going through the manuscript with you. Isn’t there someone else you can get to
sit with your little girl for a few hours? It’s not that I’m unsympathetic to your plight, Maggie, believe me. I know it’s tough. But we have so little time, we’ve got to
get working,’ Marcy’s crisp voice came down the line.

‘I know, I know,’ Maggie said hastily. ‘It’s just that I can’t really leave here. She frets terribly and she’s so sick.’

‘Just for an hour, even,’ Marcy urged. ‘I could come and pick you up and we could pop down to the Gresham and then I could leave you back.’

‘OK, OK,’ Maggie agreed. ‘I’ll fix something up.’

‘Great, Maggie, that’s the spirit. I’ll pick you up at three. I’m going to put you on hold; Sandra wants to talk to you,’ Marcy said brisky.

‘Tell her to hurry,’ Maggie urged, ‘I haven’t any more change and I don’t want to be cut off.’ She saw the professor going up the stairs on his rounds and she
wanted to be there when he got to Shona. Come on, Sandra, she thought impatiently.

‘Hi, you poor thing.’ Sandra came on the line. ‘Look, I know you’re up to ninety but I’ve got to set up a meeting with yourself, myself and Carol. We need an author
biog from you and I want you to meet someone I think might suit us for the cover. That’s very important, Maggie. We need a cover urgently so I can start selling in to the shops. When can we
meet? This week, if possible. Normally we wouldn’t publish a novel as quickly as this. But I think this is going to be big and I want to hit the Christmas market.’ Sandra was as always
very enthusiastic.

‘Look, Sandra, could I get back to you?’ Maggie was utterly harassed.

‘Sure, sure, but soon, Maggie.’

Maggie was just about to hang up when she remembered. ‘Wait, Sandra. I forgot to mention it to Marcy. I’ve a title that I prefer to
An Independent Woman.
’

‘Hmmm?’ Sandra was cautious.

‘I’m going to call it
City Woman
,’ Maggie said firmly. After all it was
her
novel. There was silence at the other end of the phone. Maggie waited
anxiously.

‘Hey . . . I like it. I like it,’ said Sandra enthusiastically. ‘Let me run it by the others. OK?’

‘Right. See you, Sandra.’ Maggie replaced the phone and raced up the stairs, anxious to get back to the ward in time to see the professor. Terry would never agree to taking a
half-day, so there was no point in asking. Josie wasn’t available to look after Mimi and Michael; Caroline had promised to do that for her. She’d have to leave Shona alone for an hour
while she was with Marcy and that was that. Sandra would just have to wait until things had calmed down a bit before she could even think of meeting her. And as regards sitting down to rewrite, how
the hell was she going to do that? Maybe she should phone her mother and ask her to come up for a few days. But that would be more trouble than it was worth; it would end up with her looking after
Nelsie as well as everyone else. Scrap that brainwave. She could hear Shona crying from the top of the stairs and with a heart as heavy as lead she went back into the ward to try and comfort
her.

‘Hello,’ a familiar voice said in her ear several hours later, and Maggie turned to find Devlin smiling down at her. ‘How is she?’ Maggie looked down at
her daughter, lying with her head against her shoulder, fast asleep. She looked worn out and still had a high temperature. As well as everything else she had developed blisters and mouth ulcers and
she couldn’t eat, and trying to get her to take her oral medicine was a nightmare. Every time she saw a nurse coming she buried her face into Maggie’s neck, clinging tightly to her, and
Maggie had had to hold her struggling in her arms as the nurse had forced a syringe into Shona’s mouth. Most of the medicine landed on Maggie and the nurse as Shona spat it out and
they’d had to repeat the exercise. Shona had fallen asleep, still sobbing, her eyes reproaching her mother for her act of betrayal.

‘Not too good: they can’t get her blasted temperature down. It’s fluctuating between forty and thirty-eight,’ Maggie sighed.

‘What’s that in the old system?’ Devlin pulled up a chair beside Maggie and deposited a large fluffy koala bear on the bed.

‘Thanks; you shouldn’t have.’ Maggie was touched. ‘Forty is 104 Fahrenheit. That’s the highest it’s gone. It’s 102 at the moment.’

‘Jesus,’ breathed Devlin. ‘One hundred and four! That’s high – but at least it’s dropped two degrees. Can’t they do anything?’

Tears stung Maggie’s eyes. ‘They’re doing everything they can. They’re very kind here. It’s just so frustrating that the antibiotics aren’t working yet.
She’s so sick, Dev; it’s awful to see her like this. You know what a little live wire she is usually. I know they’ll get it down eventually. I’m a nurse. I know these
things, but I can’t help worrying.’

‘Of course you can’t! You’re her mother, for God’s sake. I remember once, Lynn—’ Devlin stopped short. ‘Ah, nothing . . . don’t worry, Maggie, you
know kids: one minute they’re as sick as a parrot, the next they’re jumping around.’

‘Yeah, I know. It’s just that this pneumonia worries me.’

Devlin put an arm around her shoulder. ‘She’ll be fine, Maggie, believe me. Caroline phoned me last night after you were on so I called the hospital and they said I could come in any
time after eleven. So I just popped up. It’s handy being your own boss at times like this.’

‘You don’t know how lucky you are, Devlin. God, I’m running round in circles trying to sort things out. My editor wants to meet me tomorrow afternoon; my sales and marketing
director wants a meeting; the car’s in the garage. Terry won’t take time off so I’m up the creek.’ Maggie grimaced.

‘Is Terry up to his eyes at work?’ Devlin asked sympathetically.

‘No more than usual,’ snorted Maggie. ‘Do you know something, Dev: he blames me for this. Because I went away for the weekend Shona got pneumonia. How’s that for logic?
He’s been a real pig about it. If I tell him I need some time to go to a meeting at my publishers, he’ll just tell me to get lost. Anyway I haven’t told him yet I’m being
published. The time just wasn’t right and I don’t think he’ll be that impressed anyway.’

Devlin shook her head. ‘That’s not one bit fair. I’m surprised at Terry. Men! They’re gas, aren’t they? I phoned Luke yesterday and he went into a huff and hung up
– why, I don’t know. Wait until I see him tomorrow, I’ll be just as cool.’

‘Ah Devlin, you can’t be cool to Luke; he’s crazy about you,’ Maggie remonstrated. ‘He’s a very nice man.’ Maggie knew if it were Luke Reilly she was
married to she would be getting a hell of a lot more support from him than she was getting from Terry.

‘I know he is,’ Devlin sighed. ‘Listen, I’m just thinking here: what if you could reschedule your meeting with your editor for now? I could stay here for a couple of
hours. You can take my car. It’s open drive. Go and do your biz and back you come.’

Maggie smiled. ‘Devlin to the rescue. You’re a great old buddy.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll get my own back one of these days. Give me that child and go on and phone your editor.’

Maggie hesitated, for she knew Devlin was a very busy lady.

‘Now!’ ordered Devlin.

Twenty

Twenty-five minutes later Maggie was parking Devlin’s Sierra in the forecourt of the complex just off the Santry bypass that housed her publishers’ offices and
warehouse. Marcy had rescheduled an editorial meeting so she could fit her in. Maggie couldn’t help a little buzz of excitement as she parked the car. To be going to a meeting at her
publishers! Thousands dreamed of getting this chance and
she
had succeeded. How many times had she passed this way and never really noticed the smart yellow-brick single-storey building,
with its well-kept forecourt decorated with tubs of flowering shrubs. It was part of a small industrial estate that was well laid out and maintained. Enterprise Publishers were to the front of the
complex. In fact to Maggie’s biased eye, theirs was the nicest building in the estate. The enormous warehouse, a long low building, was behind the office building and on her first visit to
Enterprise House, Jeremy Wilson, the managing director, had given her a guided tour and presented her with a selection of books from the shelves. By the end of the year, with any luck, copies of
City Woman
would be reposing on those shelves.

The first person Maggie saw when she entered the plush foyer was Sandra Nolan and she groaned inwardly. Her cotton summer dress was creased and clung to her. She hadn’t had time to wash
her hair over the past few days, she had no make-up on apart from a touch of lipstick and she just felt she looked a sight. Sandra was perfectly groomed and looked every inch the young executive in
her cream Betty Barclay suit. Her jet-black hair gleamed in a shining bob; her make-up was subtle but perfectly applied. She was one of these people who are naturally glamorous, and no matter what
the circumstnces, are always perfectly groomed – the type of person you would love to hate but couldn’t because she was so nice.

‘Hi! how’s the baby? You look a bit tired, Maggie. Can I get you some coffee?’ Sandra said solicitously. ‘Come on into my office and we can have a chat. Everybody here
loves
City Woman.
I’ve some great ideas for the cover design. The feedback in the trade is good too. I think we’re on to a winner here, Maggie!’ Sandra’s exuberance
was infectious. Maggie found herself smiling, even though she had only been there for a minute or two; her adrenalin was starting to flow. Sandra always had that effect on her.

‘Shona’s not responding to the antibiotics. It’s a matter of getting one that will control her infection. It will take a while. A friend is sitting in for me so I was able to
come up. But I won’t have coffee; Marcy’s expecting me.’

At that moment Marcy came out of her office and saw her. ‘Is Sandra trying to poach you? Typical!’ she laughed. ‘She’s mine today, Sandra. Make your own arrangements and
stop trying to steal a march on the editorial department,’ she said with mock-severity to the sales and marketing director, as she ushered Maggie into her office. ‘I’ll organize
coffee for us and we’ll get down to work,’ Marcy declared, as she pressed a button on her intercom and asked the receptionist to bring them in a pot of coffee. ‘And hold all my
calls for the next hour, please,’ she instructed crisply. ‘I prefer to work on a manuscript with an author away from the office if possible, because this place is a madhouse!’
Marcy explained as she took Maggie’s manuscript out of a file. ‘I know the circumstances are exceptional but perhaps when your little girl is better we can arrange to meet where neither
of us will be interrupted. You’ll get much more work done, quality work.’

The editor sat behind her desk and pulled a chair up beside her. ‘Sit down, Maggie, and take a deep breath,’ she said, smiling. Marcy, like Sandra and Maggie, was in her
mid-thirties. She was a brisk businesslike woman with a sharp brain that impressed Maggie. Tall and very thin, Marcy was superbly fit and her skin and hair glowed with good health. She never ate
junk, didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, her only indulgence being coffee. She jogged daily with her partner, a vice-president of a meat exporting company, and was always in bed before
midnight. It paid off, Maggie thought admiringly. Marcy Elliot had the energy of ten; her workload was enormous but it didn’t faze her one bit. One of these days,
she
was going to
get herself in hand, start eating properly and become more fit than she managed with her weekly workout and swim in City Girl. Definitely . . . one of these days . . .