Free City Girl by Patricia Scanlan Page B

‘Well if that’s what you want, pet.’ He knew how close she and Katie were and he didn’t try to stop her. ‘Will you phone as soon as you get
there?’
    ‘It’ll be late,’ she protested.
    ‘Devlin, we won’t rest easy otherwise. Oh and Devlin . . .’ He paused as if unsure how to continue. ‘Pet, try not to think too badly of your mother. She’s not
herself these days . . . I think she’s going through the change.’
    The lump rose in Devlin’s throat again but she swallowed hard and said quietly, ‘Bye Dad, I’m sorry and I do love you.’ She could sense him smiling at the other end of
the line.
    ‘I love you too, don’t forget that. Drive carefully now.’
    ‘I will,’ she promised and replaced the receiver.
    For the next hour she banished all other thoughts from her head and concentrated on her driving and it was with a physical sense of relief that she saw the lights of Wexford in the distance, the
twin steeples of the churches seeming to pierce the black star-studded sky. Driving slowly over the bridge, Devlin, despite her trauma, felt her spirits lift as they always did when she crossed the
bridge into the town. She loved Wexford: the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place always soothed her. Slowly she drove along the quay, looking at the myriad glittering lights reflected
in the water that softly lapped the quayside. Katie lived in Rosslare Harbour, about twelve miles further on, but the road was excellent and she made good time and turned up the winding lane that
led to the farmhouse less than fifteen minutes later.
    Checking her watch, Devlin saw it was almost one thirty. She reflected that Katie would be long gone to bed. One of the dogs started barking and a minute later Devlin saw the bedroom curtain
being drawn back and her aunt stuck her head out the window.
    ‘Who in the name of . . . ? Merciful hour, is that you, Devlin?’
    Minutes later the door was thrown open and Katie stood there, a dainty elf, her soft grey hair tumbling about her shoulders.
    ‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there?’ she exclaimed, enveloping her niece in a warm embrace. ‘Is it Lydia or Gerry? Is it the drinking?’
    Devlin shook her head sadly. ‘It’s me, Katie. I had to come and see you. You’re the only one who can help me.’
    ‘Well come in, alanna, out of the night. Sure it can’t be that bad. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems.’
    Tears smarted in Devlin’s eyes. How typical of Katie to be so loving and reassuring. Katie gave her niece a soft shove into the house and Devlin could feel its peace and serenity envelope
her like a comforting eiderdown. Before long she was sitting before a crackling fire, hot chocolate and a plate of fresh homemade scones dripping with jam and cream on her lap. Between mouthfuls
she poured out the whole sorry tale.
    The relief of unburdening herself was enormous and Katie let her talk, merely interjecting a softly-spoken comment here and there. When Devlin told her about Lydia’s revelation her face
turned hard and cold and she said grimly, ‘Typical of Lydia. She was always the most self-centred and selfish person I ever knew and believe me it hurts to say that about my own
sister.’
    ‘Katie?’ Devlin’s voice was raw with pain. ‘Do you know who my mother was?’ Her aunt wrapped a comforting arm around her and rocked the now sobbing girl softly,
soothingly.
    ‘Cry all you want, alanna, and get it out of your system. There’s no point in bottling it all up inside because it will only affect you later.’ She held her for a long time and
when Devlin had stopped weeping those long haunting racking sobs, Katie said quietly, ‘Your mother was our youngest sister, Tara. She died at your birth. Robbie and I wanted to adopt you but
Lydia wouldn’t have it.’ She looked down at her niece. ‘I wish I’d fought harder to get you but Lydia had just married Gerry and he had money and good prospects whereas
Robbie and I only had