City Woman (38 page)

‘We’ll make sure you have a good time here; don’t worry,’ Pat said with a laugh. ‘Only the driest old stick going would fail to enjoy herself in this city.
Isn’t that right, Nell?’ She winked at the other girl. Turning to Caroline, she fixed her with a blue-eyed gaze. ‘You will come next week now, won’t you?’ Pat said
warmly. ‘Even though Nell won’t be here. Quite a few new people have arrived in the past few weeks and I want to make sure that everybody gets to know at least some people so they
won’t feel lonely during their first few months. Anyway it’s nice to have a network of friends and acquaintances.’ Caroline felt instinctively that Pat was a person who cared
about people. Nell had told her that she had been a midwife and Caroline, even on this short acquaintance, felt if she was ever to be in labour, she’d very much like a woman like Pat Jawhary
to be delivering her baby.

She had been a bit apprehensive about coming to the weekly Tuesday night meeting. A roomful of strangers had always intimidated Caroline. But having met Pat and a few other members, she realized
she need not have worried. As she had discovered in the past few days, people were always delighted to meet someone from home, someone with news. Before she knew it, Pat and Nell had partnered her
with a cheerful engineer called Mike, for the Walls of Limerick.

‘I’m not very good at this,’ she confessed as the music started.

‘That makes two of us,’ said Mike with a grin, as he clumped around the floor like a young elephant. It was hilarious and also intriguing to watch olive-skinned men from a different
culture taking part in Irish dances. Round they danced, laughing at missed steps, and breathless from the exercise, and when it was over they all retired, thirsty, to the bar.

Sipping the Coke that Mike brought her, Caroline looked around at the laughing, chattering people and felt she could be in any bar at home. Except that it was much cosier than a pub. Comfortable
chairs dotted the large room. Soft wall-lamps cast a comforting glow and a French window led to a tiled patio. It was the social club of the Corniche hospital and the Irish society used it on
Tuesday nights. As she viewed the various groups of relaxed people, Caroline decided that she liked the easygoing atmosphere and thought happily that it wasn’t going to be an ordeal to come
here once a week.

‘Are you enjoying yourself, Caroline?’ she heard Pat ask as she pulled up a chair. ‘It’s such a pity you couldn’t have come to the President’s dinner: we had
a marvellous time.’

‘Féile told us all about it,’ Caroline said smiling. ‘I believe there was dancing on the tables and everything.’

‘Oh that’s the sign of a great party in Abu Dhabi,’ Pat laughed, ‘but we’ll have lots more events that you’ll have to come to. We have a mince-pies and
mulled-wine evening for Christmas and we’ll surely have a dhow trip or an outing to the desert before you go home next spring. You’ll enjoy it here, Caroline: Abu Dhabi is a very
friendly place and I love seeing girls come out from home and have a ball.’

Caroline wondered if she would ever achieve such an aura of self-confidence. They chatted over another drink. Pat told Caroline how she had been a midwife in the Rotunda, before going out to
Saudi to work as a midwife and later as head of a department in a big American hospital. Afterwards she had come to Abu Dhabi with her husband, Akram, and little son, Eamonn. Caroline judged that
Pat was only in her early thirties, but hearing all she had done in her life, she felt completely inadequate. All Caroline had ever done was to leave home and share a flat for a happy time with
Devlin, before rushing into a marriage that had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life. And all because she had been so afraid of being left on the shelf! How stupid she had been! Looking
at all these independent young women who were making their own choices, living the kind of lives they wanted to live, seeing the world, experiencing other cultures and throwing off the stifling
mantle of insular thinking, she wanted to emulate them.

Caroline knew that taking this job was the most important step she had ever taken. So when Pat asked her if she would like to join a silk-painting class, she immediately said yes and later in
the evening when Féile suggested she join her badminton club, she found herself agreeing.

‘Oh God! I’m going to have a hell of a hangover,’ moaned Nell as they took a taxi home several hours later. Because it was her last night, everybody had been buying her
drinks.

‘Don’t worry; at least you don’t have to get up for work in the morning,’ Caroline remarked as the driver drove past the imposing Sheraton Hotel. The previous night, Bill
had taken Nell and herself and the other two girls in the office to the Inn of Happiness, the Chinese restaurant in the Sheraton, as a treat before Nell went home. They had had the most superb meal
in the exotic red-and-black restaurant and Caroline promised herself she was going to go there again.

The following morning, she padded around the apartment, making sure not to make any noise so as not to disturb Nell. It was a beautiful morning out and she stood on the balcony marvelling that
the sun was so hot and the sky so blue in the middle of November.

She also found it so incongruous to go into the huge co-op that stocked everything from Christmas cards to Kerrygold butter and see all the Christmas decorations, or to listen to Christmas music
being played in Spinneys, the large English shop, and then to come out to the oven-blast heat and the blazing sun.

‘Morning!’ A cheerful voice interrupted her musings. For someone suffering from a hangover, Nell looked remarkably well. Seeing Caroline’s quizzical look, Nell laughed.
‘I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be: lots of water and an Alka-Seltzer last night and some orange juice this morning did the trick. So since we have the day off and I’m all
packed and organized, what do you say we catch a few rays? I’d better top up the tan for going home. I have to make them all pea-green.’

‘I’d love that,’ said Caroline eagerly. She hadn’t been to the beach yet and she was dying to go swimming in the Arabian sea.

Twenty minutes later they were driving through the suburbs and past the enormous sheikhs’ palaces to the Intercontinental Hotel.

‘You have to be a member of a beach club, unless you just want to go to the ladies’ beach,’ Nell explained as she expertly negotiated a huge roundabout covered with flowers.
‘This one is one of the most exclusive. Bill pays our membership as a perk for working unsocial hours. It’s terrific, Caroline: there’s tennis and squash, a gym and saunas, and
you can do water sports like windsurfing and paragliding off the beach. It’s lovely to come down here on your mornings off, particularly if it’s midweek when it’s not packed. I
usually try to come once a week, just to flop and relax and be by myself for a while. It really renews you.’

‘I’d say!’ exclaimed Caroline, as they turned left off the carriageway and drove down to a marina that was full of luxurious yachts and sleek motor cruisers, the like of which
Caroline had only seen in films. Nell parked the car and led the way to the entrance of the beach club. She handed Caroline a card. ‘This is your membership card and you are entitled to bring
two guests if ever you want to.’ The smiling man at reception handed a pair of thick fluffy towels to each girl and then Nell was leading Caroline past the tiled shower- and changing-rooms
out to a verdant lawn, beyond which were two rows of loungers with luxurious emerald cushions that just invited a body to sink into them. Shaded by palms, the club was like something out of an
exotic travel brochure. A long crescent of white sand curved along the coast, fringing the aquamarine waters of the Gulf. At the edge of the lawn was a large circular shaded bar, where patrons
could order drinks or tea and coffee or snacks. Lucinda Marshall, eat your heart out, thought Caroline in amusement. This was the nearest to paradise she had ever been.

‘You like it?’ Nell spread her towels on a lounger and stepped out of her sundress to reveal a black bikini and tanned smooth skin. ‘Ooohhh, I’d better make the most of
this,’ she sighed, oiling herself with Hawaiian Tropic. ‘It will be grey skies and cold weather for the next few months.’

‘I think I’ll go for a swim first,’ Caroline decided, as she was feeling quite warm. Pulling off her shorts and T-shirt, she stepped out of her sandals and walked down to the
water’s edge in her turquoise bikini. The sand was hot under her feet and with a sigh of pleasure she waded out into the crystal-clear waters of the Gulf and dived in. It was bliss. The water
caressed her body as she swam and floated. Later she lay on her lounger and let the sun warm her cooled limbs as she fell into a peaceful slumber under the shade of her palm fronds.

The girls spent the day at the club, chatting, snoozing, swimming, eating and drinking and when it was time to leave, Caroline took a last look around, knowing that she was going to spend many
happy hours in this gorgeous place.

They did some last-minute shopping for presents that Nell wanted to bring home and then it was back to the apartment to get ready for Nell’s departure.

As she stood with Bill behind the glass partition at Abu Dhabi airport, waving to Nell until they could see her no longer, Caroline tried to ignore the vague knot of
apprehension that twisted her intestines. She had met lots of people, she had the Irish society and Féile and Pat and most of all she had that beautiful beach. Thousands would give anything
to be in her shoes.

‘Will you be all right on your own?’ Bill cast a glance in her direction as he pulled up outside the apartment.

‘I’ll be fine, Bill,’ Caroline assured him confidently.

‘Well, you have my number: use it if you need to.’

‘I will, Bill; don’t worry.’ Caroline gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

‘Good night, good night, Caroline,’ her boss blustered, but Caroline could tell he was pleased. Despite his gruff exterior, he was as soft as butter.

‘I’ll see you in the morning, Bill, bright and early,’ she promised, and waved as he drove off.

It was strange going into the apartment without Nell being there, but in another way it was nice being on her own. She made a pot of tea and some toast and pottered around for a little while and
then, knowing she had to make an early start, she went to bed and almost before she knew it, she was asleep.

‘Don’t be a coward!’ Caroline spoke severely to her reflection in the mirror. Big brown eyes under a feathery fringe of black hair stared doubtfully back. She
was trying to get up the courage to drive to work rather than get a taxi. ‘Start as you mean to go on.’ All her paperwork was in order and the keys to Nell’s Honda Civic were
lying on the dressing table. She picked up her map of Abu Dhabi and ran her eyes along it. On paper her route looked relatively easy. It was a straight road to the city. Airport Road would be no
problem. There were no roundabouts until she got to the big one opposite the Cultural Foundation where she would have to turn on to Zayed the First Street, and then all she had to do was to turn
right at Khalid Bin Al Waleed Street, near the British Embassy. Then she was on the Corniche and the rest was a doddle. Still she dithered. She had seen the erratic driving. Would she keep her
nerve with all the beepings and lane-hopping that were part and parcel of driving in Abu Dhabi? She looked at her watch. It was almost seven-fifteen; she’d want to hurry if she wanted to be
into work on time, whether driving or taking a taxi. Caroline knew that if she took a taxi today, she’d never drive in the city. So, taking a deep breath, she picked up the car keys and
closed the door behind her.

Opening the car door, Caroline sat in, only to remember with a deep sense of shock that the car was left-hand drive! Exiting on the passenger side, she was sorely tempted to lock the doors and
hail a taxi but her stubborn streak came to the fore and with a hasty prayer to her mother in heaven, she got in and started up the engine. It was a bumpy start, to say the least, as she clutched
at an unfamiliar gear and tried to remember that her handbrake was on her right side rather than her left. Cautiously she edged out, her gears jarring unmercifully as she slowed to a halt to let
some traffic pass. Then the car cut out. Cursing vehemently, Caroline started up the engine and then shot out on to the street and turned left on Airport Road. The traffic was fast-flowing but she
kept to the slow lane and proceeded at a steady pace. She passed the white walls of the open-air mosque where everyone gathered to celebrate Eid al Fitr, the great three-day celebration after the
long fasting of Ramadan. She would be here for the next Ramadan which would start some time around the end of February. During that month, all Muslims had to fast from sunrise to sunset and
non-Muslims, such as herself, would have to refrain from eating in public or anywhere they could be seen by Muslims in daylight hours.

Although she knew Pat lived somewhere nearby, she didn’t dare look around but kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead. ‘Remember the traffic lights are overhanging,’ she
muttered, as a taxi-driver shot in in front of her. As she got closer to the city centre, the traffic intensified and sweat prickled her brow and upper lip.

‘Omigod! Omigod!’ she breathed as she was tooted at impatiently from behind. ‘Creep, jerk!’ she swore, her palms sweaty against the wheel. ‘Keep to the right; keep
to the right; O Sacred Heart of Jesus, get me to work safely.’ Caroline prayed to herself the whole way into town. The roundabout at the Cultural Foundation came into view and she slowed down
to negotiate it, only to invite a torrent of hoots and beeps.

‘Piss off, the whole shaggin’ lot of you,’ Caroline growled as she shot around the roundabout and turned left onto Zayed the First Street. It was with immense relief that she
finally drove on to the Corniche and saw the haven of her office building.

Standing in the lift as it glided silently up to the tenth floor, Caroline tried to compose herself. Her crisp white cotton blouse and tailored black trousers still looked good in the mirror in
the lift. Despite her traumatic journey, she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. At least she had a good idea about how the office worked. Nell had been very patient and thorough at
explaining; so she wasn’t too apprehensive about her first day without her.