City Girl by Patricia Scanlan Page A

father was in no position to take care of you, darling. He felt that Lydia and Gerry could provide a stable home. So that’s why Lydia reacted as she did. Don’t blame her too
much, Devlin. She’s had hardships too.’
    ‘What happened to my father?’ Devlin asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.
    Katie’s eyes were full of compassion as she saw her niece’s obvious torment. Gently she said, ‘Your ah . . . that is, Brian continued living in the North. I believe he married
and had two children. They emigrated because of the troubles, Australia I heard. He died of a heart attack last year.’
    Devlin shook her head in disbelief, unable to grasp all she had been told. She actually had a half-brother and sister or maybe two brothers or two sisters. It was all too much to take in. Her
blond head drooped exhaustedly and, briskly, Kate urged her up the small stairs into the tiny guest bedroom. Devlin undressed automatically and climbed naked into the welcoming double bed piled
high with downy white pillows. Pulling the patchwork quilt up around her, she stretched her limbs against the softness of freshly laundered sheets and giving an exhausted yawn fell into a deep and
dreamless sleep, as the horrors of the past few hours were temporarily erased from her mind.

Five
    A week later, a harder, more determined Devlin stood in front of the check-in desk at Dublin Airport. She was alone. As she thought of the events of the past week, she felt a
strange sense of relief that she had made her decision. She had stayed with Katie for two days. Her aunt had discussed all the options with her, offering her the haven of her home for the duration
of her pregnancy . . . and afterwards. Devlin knew that Katie was deeply opposed to her decision to have the abortion. She tried gently but firmly to dissuade her from the idea.
    ‘Tara could have had you aborted, Devlin, but she didn’t, so think hard about what you are going to do. I know the stigma of being an unmarried mother is a hard cross to bear,
especially in this uncharitable country. I’ve seen the way girls have been treated, thrown out of their homes, left to have their babies alone and dumped in lonely flats in Ballymun and the
likes. I know what you’re afraid of facing, alanna, but you’re strong, you can cope and I’ll always be here for you, so think hard . . .’
    In a state of indecision Devlin had returned to her flat in Dublin, ringing Gerry at work to tell him she was home. An hour later Lydia arrived on her doorstep. They stared at each other
awkwardly and then Lydia said abruptly, ‘I apologize for my behaviour the other day. It was the shock!’
    Swallowing hard, Devlin said, ‘That’s all right, I’m sorry for what’s happened.’
    Lydia drew a packet of cigarettes out of her bag and lit one. Sitting gracefully on the edge of the sofa in her superbly cut Michael Gall suit, her hair beautifully styled, it was hard to
believe that this was the same ravaged sobbing woman who had ranted and cursed so stridently a few days earlier. Pulling deeply on the cigarette she said firmly, ‘I’ve told Gerry
I’ll handle this my way.’ Exhaling the smoke in a long thin stream, she said matter-of-factly, ‘I think an abortion is the best thing for you.’ Two bright spots had appeared
on her cheeks despite her meticulous make-up. The hand holding the cigarette was not quite steady.
    Devlin walked over to the window and stood staring out. In spite of herself she was shocked and surprised. She had felt that Lydia would have been totally against her having an abortion on
religious grounds and she had dreaded telling her. But here she was, the same Lydia who went regularly to Sunday Mass and who chastised Devlin for not going, Lydia, who was on first name terms with
some of the bishops as a result of her charity work, Lydia who had been so shocked when it was rumoured that Jennifer Quinn had gone to England and had an abortion. This Lydia was