City Woman (45 page)

Maggie smiled to herself in amusement as Terry drove through the city, still festive with Christmas lights. Was she actually trying to impress Marian? It looked like it. In the old days she
wouldn’t even have thought about having her hair done for a dinner with Marian, but these were not the old days and her relationship with Marian was totally different from what it had been.
In their youth, Maggie had quite happily followed where Marian led, always impressed by what she had perceived as her friend’s sophistication and savoir faire. This had suited Marian, who
always liked to feel she was impressing people. In that respect she had not changed one bit: if anything she was even more conscious of her image. Maggie, on the other hand, was at the stage of her
life when she didn’t give a hoot what others thought about her. She was what she was and people either liked it or lumped it as far as she was concerned.

Marian, she could see, had found the new more assertive Maggie a little difficult to get used to. While it was nice to be on speaking terms with her again, Maggie knew that their relationship
would never be of the calibre of her friendship with Devlin and Caroline. Marian had grown even more reserved in the years since they had last met, and it was only rarely that she let her guard
down at all. To tell the truth, Maggie sometimes found her hard going. Marian was not relaxed. It was as if she felt it of the utmost importance to keep up her façade of brittle
sophistication at all times. Since their reacquaintance, Maggie had never seen her in the same outfit twice or without perfectly applied make-up. Marian was all talk of how successful Alex was, and
what she had bought and where she had been on holidays. When she heard that Maggie was a close friend of Devlin Delaney she had been extremely impressed.

Tonight was the first time that Maggie would visit Marian’s house. Although they had kept in touch by phone and met in town for coffee several times since the summer, and although Maggie
had had Marian and Alex over to dinner twice, this was the first occasion the hospitality had been reciprocated.

Maggie was
dying
to see the Foxrock mansion that she’d heard so much about. Alex’s elder brother and his American wife, Clarissa, would also be at the dinner party. Maggie
had got the impression that Marian wasn’t enamoured of her brother-in-law’s wife.

‘A bit loud,’ Marian had confided in one of her few unguarded moments. Maggie took this to mean that she was a woman who enjoyed herself in an uninhibited kind of way. Marian would
never be uninhibited, although she’d been a much more relaxed and easy-going person when they’d been friends in their young days.

After taking her degree in UCD she had gone into marketing for a couple of years and then she had become a researcher in RTE, for both radio and television programmes. That was where she had met
her husband. She had had to interview him for a series of business programmes on TV, and when the broadcasts were over, he asked her out.

Marian had spoken about her time in RTE with great enthusiasm and Maggie felt it was a shame that she’d given up her job after she got married. It was obvious to Maggie that part of her
friend’s trouble was that she was bored, despite all the entertaining and all the expensive holidays she had with Alex. Her husband hadn’t wanted her to continue working after
they’d married, Marian confided in Maggie, and at first, she said, it was a real treat being able to do as she wanted. But although she didn’t say it, Maggie knew that the thrill of
this had worn off and Marian was at a loose end.

‘Couldn’t you go back part-time?’ Maggie had suggested.

‘Maybe.’ Marian had been non-committal, and Maggie had left it at that, knowing that Marian did not want to discuss it any further.

Alex’s brother, Edward, was a lawyer in Atlanta, and the loud Clarissa worked for one of the state’s welfare agencies. From what Maggie had heard of her, she sounded like a lively
woman. All in all, it might prove to be a very interesting evening.

Marian checked the dinner table once more, looking for flaws, making sure that the place settings were evenly spaced, and that the bowl of red roses, white gypsophila and green
ferns was precisely at the centre of her round mahogany table. Red, white and green, the Christmas colours, were her theme colours, carried right through to all the decorations. The tree was an
elegant picture, with red and white bows so striking against the deep green of the foliage. No gaudy balls and tinsel for Marian, just small white lights and her red and white bows. ‘Less is
more,’ was Marian’s motto this year and simple wreaths of holly entwined with white ribbons were her only other decorations. She had candelabra with red, white and green candles. She
was extremely pleased with her minimalist approach. Maggie would surely be impressed.

It was very important to Marian that her dinner should be a great success. She wanted Maggie to see how well she had done for herself. To see what taste and style she had. To see what a lovely,
elegant house she was mistress of. Nobody could deny that it was a hell of a lot more elegant than Maggie’s Castleknock home. Not, Marian thought, that there was anything wrong with
Maggie’s house. It was very nice, if a tad in need of repainting. But there had been toys everywhere except the sitting-room, which admittedly was very cosy and pretty. In her house,
Alexandra had a playroom, and was expected to play with her toys there, and there alone. Toys all over the house would have driven Marian bananas.

She was so pleased with the new conservatory that they’d recently had built. That was why she’d waited so long before inviting Maggie to dinner at her house. She’d wanted
everything to be just so, and there was nothing worse than having the signs of workmen around the place.

Everything was fine, she reassured herself. Alex was taking care of the wines. All she had to do was to go upstairs and slip into the new burgundy velvet dress that Alex had bought her for
Christmas to go with the ruby earrings and necklace he had given her on their last wedding anniversary.

Walking past the guest-room occupied by Edward and Clarissa, Marian wrinkled her nose in distaste. That one was smoking again, she fumed. God, she was as common as dishwater. Marian loathed
smoking and would not permit it under her roof. If anything went wrong tonight, it would be because of big-mouth Clarissa. Once she had drunk a few glasses of wine, she’d say anything. Maybe
she should have waited until they’d gone home before inviting the Ryans, but her visitors were here for another two weeks. By then, the season would be over and she wanted Maggie to admire
her house complete with its tasteful Christmas decor.

What Edward saw in Clarissa, Marian could not imagine. From the way he was always pawing her, she could make a guess at one thing, she thought primly, as she closed her bedroom door behind her.
They’d been married for twenty years or more – you’d think they’d have more sense. If Alex mauled her the way Edward mauled his wife, she’d slap him across the face.
Maggie and she would probably get on well, Marian thought crossly, remembering her friend and the good-looking blond man she’d seen her kissing outside Clerys.

Marian had never really enjoyed sex that much. You had to reveal too much of yourself. And Alex, like herself, was a reserved, controlled type of person. They understood each other perfectly.
Nevertheless, remembering the glow in Maggie’s eyes, and the lustre Clarissa always seemed to have, Marian wondered wistfully what it would be like to be consumed, body and soul, by lust for
a man. It was something she had never experienced and, she thought with a vague sense of dissatisfaction, it was something she was certainly never going to experience with Alex.

What on earth had got her into this frame of mind, Marian wondered with irritation, as she slipped the dress over her immaculately coiffed hair. She was perfectly happy the way she was . . .
totally in control. She had a wealthy, supportive husband, a beautiful little girl, a fine house, a big car and money to do as she pleased. What more could a woman want? Her mouth tightened as she
heard Clarissa give one of her husky chuckles. It wouldn’t surprise Marian one bit if they were doing it right this minute.

‘Stop pinchin’ my ass, you horny devil,’ Clarissa reprimanded her husband with a grin, as she drew deeply on a cigarette. She leaned out the bedroom window
and exhaled a long thin stream of smoke. ‘Gahd! I needed that. I know she’s your brother’s wife, honey, but Jeez, I dunno how I’m going to put up with her and her airs and
graces for another two weeks. Can’t we say we’re gonna do some sightseeing or something and get the hell outta here and stay in a hotel?’

‘Alex would be really hurt, Clariss. I haven’t been home in five years. Just stick it out until next week and we’ll go and spend a few days in Kerry,’ her husband urged.
‘OK?’

‘Oh Gahd, Teddy, the things I do for love!’ Clarissa said with a grin. ‘I wonder what this friend of madame’s is like. Probably another right royal asshole. When I heard
she
had
a friend you could have knocked me down with a feather!’

‘Clarissa, stop being a bitch,’ Edward ordered, his eyes twinkling.

‘I love it when you order me around, you great big hunk you.’ Clarissa grabbed her chubby little husband around the waist and planted a big kiss on his lips.

‘You’d better get dressed,’ he declared.

‘Don’t you mean undressed?’ Clarissa gave a hearty chuckle, removed her bathrobe and twirled it around her head as if she were Salome doing the dance of the seven veils.
‘Come on, babe, we’re on vacation. Let’s jiggle those bedsprings!’ She giggled. ‘I’m a postmenopausal woman and I’m in my prime.’

‘You’re telling me!’ Her husband enthusiastically put his arms around his voluptuous wife, who, even after twenty years of marriage, could still turn him on like the first
time.

‘Very impressive,’ Terry remarked as they drove up the gravel-lined drive of Manresa, the Montclares’ imposing Victorian house in Foxrock. ‘This guy
isn’t short of a bob or two. He has a hell of a good client list.’ Terry drew the car to a halt. ‘He was telling me all about it the last time you invited them over for dinner.
He’s not a bad contact to have at all, Mags,’ Terry said with satisfaction. He was looking forward to the evening immensely. Good food, good drink no doubt, a man with whom he had a lot
in common, businesswise . . . and Maggie at his side, looking sensational, a million dollars. It just went to show what she could do when she made the effort. Tonight when they got home, he’d
make sure to show his appreciation, he thought happily.

All in all, it hadn’t been a bad Christmas, although Maggie had been furious at the carry-on of Susy and Patrick at her gran’s. But Susy had picked the wrong cookie to tangle with
when she started her shenanigans. If Susy thought for one minute that Maggie would stand quietly by and let her treat Patrick’s family like dirt, she had made a mighty big mistake. She was
very loyal, was his Mags, he thought appreciatively. She’d never let on anything about his affair to her own family, which made things much easier for Terry. He genuinely liked his in-laws.
They didn’t interfere or make great demands of Maggie and himself. It could have been very awkward if they had ever come to know about Ria.

Susy was a different kettle of fish. She never had a good word for Patrick and actually gave out about him in front of all of them. Sometimes he felt like telling her to put a sock in it. If she
was his wife, he knew what he’d do with her. Patrick was a hell of a good husband. He cooked meals and did housework on a regular basis. Terry’d never have put up with that. Sure,
he’d cook the dinner occasionally and do a bit of cleaning if Maggie was sick, but not every day of the week. The trouble with Susy was that she always had to be the centre of attention, with
everyone running right, left and centre to do her bidding and make a fuss of her. He wouldn’t stand for it if Maggie carried on like that. Not that she would anyway, he thought fondly: she
was a very supportive partner. His sister-in-law didn’t know what being a wife meant.

All in all, apart from her obsession with what she called her ‘writing career’, Maggie wasn’t a bad old wife at all. They’d had their bad times but they’d got over
them and at least they weren’t fighting these days.

He reached out and squeezed her knee. ‘Did I ever tell you you’ve got very sexy knees?’ Terry asked, enjoying the silky feel of her stockings.

‘Stop it, Terry!’ His wife slapped his hand away. ‘Someone’s opening the door.’

‘Come on then, shift your gorgeous derrière,’ Terry said cheerfully. He’d play footsie with his wife under the table when they were having dinner, he decided. It would
help him stay in the mood for what he had planned for later on.

‘It’s a beautiful house, Mar. You’ve great taste,’ Maggie said in admiration as she followed her friend downstairs after the guided tour. It was like
something out of
Homes and Gardens
, all pale plain carpets and swathes of ruched and frilled curtains. The carpets wouldn’t have lasted long in Maggie’s house with
her
three, she thought in amusement. And the master bedroom, with so many fitted wardrobes and units surrounding the huge bed, was not to Maggie’s taste. It would be a bit like sleeping in a
kitchen, she felt.

‘What do you think of Clarissa? Isn’t she something else?’ Marian threw her eyes up to heaven and made a droll face.

‘I think she’s nice,’ Maggie murmured diplomatically. Actually she thought the American woman was great gas and highly intelligent.

‘Oh, but she never knows when to shut up. She’s got an opinion on
everything
. To tell you the truth, Maggie, I’ll be glad when they’re gone back home.’

‘I know. It can be a bit of a strain having visitors for a long stretch. Can I do anything for you?’

‘I’ve everything under control, I think.’ Marian led the way into her state-of-the-art kitchen, from where the most delicious smells were emanating.

‘Tell me,’ she said, cocking her head to one side in that characteristic way of hers that Maggie had been familiar with since she first knew her. ‘Who was that you were kissing
outside Clerys just before Christmas?’