City Woman (41 page)

Agitatedly, she paced up and down the lounge as all the old horrible feelings of panic came surging back. It had been so long since she had experienced a panic attack that, when it hit her, it
seemed all the more terrifying. Her heart started to pound, she felt dizzy and sick and her breathing quickened.

‘Oh God, please don’t do this to me, please don’t let me lose it after all this time.’ She didn’t even have a tranquillizer to calm her down. A powerful desire for
a drink engulfed her: just a brandy to knock her out, send her to sleep and stop this awful shaking fear. Nell had brandy in her drinks cabinet. Surely one drink couldn’t harm her.

Slowly she walked over to the sideboard where Nell kept her drinks. Hands shaking, she took out a tumbler, opened the brandy and poured herself a generous measure. The rich never-to-be-forgotten
smell of expensive cognac made her palms sweat and her mouth dried in anticipation of that first sip. The phone rang and she was so sorely tempted to let it ring, but she was afraid it might be
Richard again. She lifted the receiver and heard Pat’s warm tones at the other end of the line.

‘Caroline, you weren’t at class. Is everything OK? Are you sick?’ came the kind Kerry voice that was so much a part of Pat’s personality.

‘Oh Pat,’ Caroline blurted. ‘I’m an alcoholic and I’m standing here with a glass of brandy in my hand and I’m so scared. Help me, please, help me!’

Thirty-Four

‘Put the glass down, Caroline,’ Pat said very calmly and firmly. ‘I want you to pack an overnight case. I’m on my way over to collect you this
minute.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t put you out like that,’ Caroline said. ‘I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,’ she added shakily.

‘Caroline, I’m not leaving you alone in this state,’ Pat declared. ‘I know Féile’s at home on holidays, so you have no-one in the building. I’ll be
over in less than ten minutes and you’re not putting me out at all. Go and empty that brandy down the sink and put the bottle away. Come back to the phone and tell me when you’ve done
it.’

Caroline’s hand shook as she carried the glass out to the kitchen. She was strongly tempted to take a slug of the sweet-scented amber liquid. Even one small sip. For long seconds she held
the glass in her hand and then, with the greatest reluctance, she turned the tumbler upside down and watched the brandy drain down the sink. Slowly, she walked back to the phone.

‘Did you do it?’ She could hear the note of anxiety in the other woman’s voice.

‘It’s gone. I poured it down the sink,’ Caroline said heavily.

‘Good girl. I’m on my way now,’ Pat said, and hung
^u
p.

Caroline stood as though in a daze. Why was she not exhilarated that she had thrown out the brandy? All she could think of was that lovely golden cognac draining down the plughole and what a
waste it was. She could have drunk that brandy.
One
glass wouldn’t have sent her over the edge.

‘It would, it would, look at you, you’re craving it. And you haven’t touched a drop for months. Just look at you: the first time you have to face up to something you go running
to the bottle. You’re pathetic!’ Caroline sank to her knees and bawled like a baby. Surprisingly, after a couple of minutes of uninhibited weeping, she felt a little better. At least
the heavy weight on her chest seemed to have dissipated with the release of her emotions. The knowledge that Pat, who lived less than a mile away, was on her way to collect her, galvanized her.
Wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand, she rushed into the bedroom to get dressed. She had just slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt when the doorbell rang. Hastily she
ran a comb through her hair and went out to open it.

Pat stood there, concern etched on her face. ‘Are you OK? Did you take a drink?’ she asked, putting a comforting arm around Caroline. At the sympathy in the other woman’s
voice, Caroline dissolved into tears again. Pat closed the door and led her in to the sofa. ‘You’re going to be fine; don’t worry about a thing.’ Pat Jawhary had the most
reassuring voice in the world. No doubt she had said exactly those words to desperate mothers-to-be as they suffered the woeful pains of labour.

‘I’m really sorry for dragging you over here. I feel such an idiot,’ Caroline confessed, as she struggled to regain her composure.

‘Don’t be a bit sorry,’ Pat said crisply. ‘That’s what the president of the St Patrick’s Society is for.’ Her eyes twinkled and in spite of everything,
Caroline couldn’t but feel at ease with her. With Pat, there was no bullshit; what you saw was what you got. What Caroline saw was a very caring person who was genuinely concerned about her
predicament.

‘Now, have you packed an overnight bag? You’re staying the night with me,’ Pat announced, picking the bottle of brandy up and putting it away in the sideboard.

‘I couldn’t put you out like that,’ Caroline protested again. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly.’

‘You’re not putting me out in the slightest. Come on.’

Caroline was mortified. ‘But . . . but I can’t go waltzing in on top of you . . . I’m sure a distraught female is the last thing your husband wants in the house after a hard
day in the office.’

‘Akram’s in Bahrain on business, but if he wasn’t, he would have been here with me to collect you,’ Pat said firmly, and Caroline could see that there was no point in
arguing with the determined Kerrywoman. To tell the truth, she was glad not to have to spend the night on her own. She wasn’t sure if she would have the willpower to leave that brandy bottle
in the sideboard.

She sat in silence as Pat drove through the darkened streets, and then they were passing the Open Mosque. After they had passed the Indian school, Pat turned left and drove up to her enclosed
villa.

The scent of the huge frangipani tree in the centre of the lawn never failed to delight Caroline, and even tonight, in her stressed state, she was able to appreciate the great tree’s
unique beauty.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Pat smiled as she locked the big gates after them. ‘I’ll always associate the scent of frangipani with Abu Dhabi.’

‘Pat, are you sure I’m not putting you out?’

‘Caroline, believe me, you’re not. Now, come on in and I’ll show you to your room. Then you and I are going to sit down and you can tell me what’s upsetting you so much
that you feel you need a drink. If you want to, of course, that is,’ Pat finished with a smile.

‘Thanks, Pat, I’d appreciate that very much,’ Caroline answered quietly.

She led the way through the hall and up a wide, plushly carpeted stairs. On the wall facing her Caroline saw a big, framed silk painting. It was a beautiful study of a woman kneeling at a
stream, looking very pensive. Slender reeds grew along the river-bank, leading the eye up to the delicately coloured sky. It was one of the most exquisite silk paintings that Caroline had ever
seen.

‘Pat! Did you do this?’ she exclaimed. ‘It is absolutely gorgeous. You’re really talented. I’ll never be that good.’

‘Yes, you will, if you keep going to your classes,’ the other woman said encouragingly, as they carried on up the stairs. ‘This is your bedroom.’ Her hostess led her into
a luxurious pink-and-white en suite bedroom. A huge bed dominated the room, complete with a white wicker headboard and matching bedside lockers. It was elegant, yet restful, and the stamp of
Pat’s tasteful style was unmistakable.

‘Just settle in. I’m going down to put on the kettle,’ Pat said, and closed the door gently behind her. When Caroline was alone, she sat on the huge bed and tried to compose
herself. It shocked and unnerved her that she had fallen so disastrously to pieces on hearing about Charles’s death.

‘But, my dear, it’s only natural!’ Pat exclaimed after she had heard the long, sorry saga which had burst out of Caroline like water from behind a dam. They were sitting in
Pat’s kitchen drinking cups of hot, sweet coffee. ‘Why should you be surprised at your reaction? My God, Caroline, if I’d been through what you’d been through that brandy
would have got short shrift. Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ Pat said gently. ‘Look, I’ve checked the times, and there’s an AA meeting at St Andrew’s tomorrow
night. Why don’t I go with you?’

‘Thanks, Pat. I’d appreciate that very much.’

Somehow she got through work the next day. Pat had not wanted her to go, offering to phone in and say that she was sick. But after the carry-on with Filomena the previous day, Caroline did not
want the younger woman to think that she was chickening out. Going to work was the best thing to keep her mind off her problems and especially off the thought of going to the AA meeting. It was
always the same: she hated going to the meetings, but once she got there she was always very glad she’d gone. Pat was being very supportive and Caroline knew she was lucky to have made a
friend like her in Abu Dhabi. It had been such a relief to talk about everything and they’d had some good laughs as Pat told hilarious tales about her time as a midwife in Dublin. She had
insisted that Caroline spend another night at her house.

As the time approached for her to leave for the AA meeting, Caroline got more and more tense. ‘Come on,’ said Pat briskly, seeing her agitation. ‘Let’s get it over
with.’

Half an hour later, in the midst of a group of people, some of whose faces were surprisingly familiar, Caroline stood up and cleared her throat.

‘My name is Caroline,’ she murmured, and caught Pat’s encouraging gaze. ‘My name is Caroline,’ she repeated clearly for all to hear. ‘And I am an
alcoholic.’

Thirty-Five

‘Are you enjoying the Eid?’ Mike raised his voice above the din of the crowd.

‘It’s fabulous,’ Caroline declared. ‘I’ve never seen such food.’ They had gone to a party in the Hilton for the celebration that marked the end of Ramadan. It
was over two and a half months since her dark night of the soul, and with Pat’s, Féile’s, Mike’s and AA’s help, she was back on track again and enjoying life in Abu
Dhabi to the utmost. Sometimes she felt a bit guilty about enjoying herself, but as a kind of defence mechanism she had pushed Charles’s death to the back of her mind. Richard was back in
Dublin and she spoke to him once a week, but, on her counsellor’s advice, would not let him burden her with his woes.

‘You’re too far from home to be able to do anything about it and it’s futile for you to be worrying out here. Besides, you must stop that pattern of taking on everyone
else’s troubles and brushing your own under the carpet. Your troubles are just as important as anyone’s, so worry about yourself for a change.’ Thus went the firm but sympathetic
advice she had been given.

Not that she had too much time to worry, these days. The weather, which had been very rainy, overcast and surprisingly cold until nearly the end of Ramadan, had picked up, and there were loads
of activities to take part in. Caroline had gone for a weekend’s camping with Mike and some of his friends to the Liwa, the largest oasis in the area, which was about a six-hour drive from
Abu Dhabi. The scenery had been breathtaking after they left the Al Ain Road and turned right on to the Ruwais Road to follow the coast to Tarif. The oasis, its villages surrounded by magnificent
sand dunes that turned to a deep red-gold in the sunset, was the most exotic place Caroline had ever been. At night the stars seemed so near in the pitch-blackness that she felt she could almost
reach up and pluck one out of the sky. The peacefulness of the desert, particularly at sunrise and sunset, was really special among the many wonderful memories of her stay in the Emirates.

She was aware that her time in Abu Dhabi was slipping away quickly and so she crammed in as many experiences as she could: trips to Dubai and Sharjah and, nearer home, to Al Ain, the university
city and birthplace of Sheikh Zayed. Caroline was also looking forward immensely to Devlin’s impending visit and was going to do her utmost to give her friend the holiday of her life.

After that, she was going to Nepal for ten days with Féile and some other girls. When they had asked her to go, she had said yes immediately. It was so easy to travel from Abu Dhabi to
the other countries of the Middle East, to India and to Africa, and Caroline knew she would never have such an excellent chance again.

She realized that she would have to make lots of decisions when she got home – like where she was going to live, now that the penthouse had been sold and the proceeds divided between her
and Richard. She also knew that she would have to get a job. But Caroline pushed all these thoughts to the deepest recesses of her mind. She wanted very much to enjoy her last few weeks in Abu
Dhabi and she made a conscious decision that for once in her life she would not worry about the future, that she would try to forget the past and instead enjoy the hour and the minute and the
day.

It was a strategy that was proving successful. She relished every day, every new experience she had, knowing that in six months it would all seem like a wonderful, fading dream. It saddened her
to think that her time in the Emirate was coming to an end, but in another way she was very much looking forward to going home and starting anew.

‘Come on. Stop daydreaming!’ Mike interrupted her musings, grinning at her. ‘We’ve got a lot of dancing to do if you’re going to exercise away that feed
you’ve just had.’

Caroline grinned back at him. She had grown extremely fond of the bearded engineer to whom she had been introduced on that Tuesday night so long ago – her first Irish night. When she
explained to him that she was recovering from a very damaged relationship and was interested only in friendship, Mike took it on the chin and declared that if that was what she wanted, that was
what she would have. He had been true to his word and never once overstepped the boundaries she had drawn. Their friendship had developed into a warm bond of affection. Mike dated other women, and
Caroline was glad of that because it took away the pressure. Right now she was happy just to be single and free with no-one depending on her. Her self-confidence was growing all the time. She had
discovered that being on her own was not a disaster and could actually be quite pleasant. All in all, she was a far more stable woman than the fragile, apprehensive person who had arrived out in
the Emirate almost six months before.