We present an extract from City Girls Forever, the new novel from bestselling author Patricia Scanlon.
The City Girls are back! As City Girl, Devlin Delaney's iconic gym and spa prepares to mark a big anniversary, her best friends, Caroline and Maggie are looking forward to a fabulous party where they can all put their problems behind them and celebrate. Sparks are going to fly, and some people are going to get a lot more than they bargained for!
Once a City Girl, a City Girl Forever. Nothing will stop their celebration . . . or will it?
DEVLIN/CAROLINE/MAGGIE
'Would you look at "Me! Me! Me!". She looks like Spock's granny! Those eyebrows! McDonald’s arches have nothing on hers. She must be seventy if she’s a day,’ Maggie whispered to Devlin and Caroline.
‘Maggie!’ hissed Devlin. ‘Stop it! We’re at a funeral.’ The trio of friends were at the funeral of a highly regarded photographer, Jason King, who’d shot the photos for Devlin’s ‘City Girl Gym & Spa’ brochure more than thirty-five years ago and taken their photos many times, at various social events they’d attended over the past three decades. The church was packed. Dublin’s glitterati had come to pay tribute. Many of them original members of City Girl, prompting Maggie’s irreverent comments. A sea of well-known faces gazed solemnly at the priest as he mournfully read, ‘Length of days is not what makes age honourable, nor number of years the true measure of life; understanding, this is man’s grey hairs, untarnished life, this is ripe old age.’
‘Not very appropriate,’ murmured Maggie sotto voce, ‘considering that Jason was as bald as a coot. Would you look at the hair extensions on The Merry Widow. She’d give Rapunzel a run for her money!’
Devlin snorted, and hastily pretended to cough. Caroline’s shoulders shook with silent laughter and she buried her face in her hands.
‘I’m never sitting beside you at a funeral again,’ Devlin informed Maggie as the priest led the coffin down the aisle past them, followed by the grieving family.
‘Why?’ Maggie asked, the picture of innocence. ‘Rapunzel!’ retorted Devlin, unable to keep her face straight as the choir swelled into the final verse of ‘Going Home’. ‘Must be the writer in me.’ Maggie grinned as they joined the queue to write their names in the book of condolences. ‘Have we time for a cuppa anywhere?’ Devlin asked when they emerged into the sunlight, blinking after the cool dimness of the church.
‘I’ve an hour to spare, where’s handy?’ Caroline eyed Maggie. ‘You free?’
‘You bet I am. I didn’t come all this way from Wicklow not to have a catch-up with my gals.’ Maggie linked Caroline’s arm as they made their way through the throngs of mourners towards their cars.
‘How about the Bots?’ Caroline suggested. ‘We can park there. It’s only five minutes away.’
‘Perfect!’ Devlin agreed.
‘Give ya a race!’ Maggie laughed.
Fifteen minutes later they sat outside in a small courtyard, in the Botanic Gardens, with pots of tea and coffee in front of them and a selection of wraps and buns. The midday sun was warm in a cerulean sky and birdsong filled the air.
‘So peaceful here. The scent of the orange blossom makes me think I’m abroad.’ Devlin inhaled deeply.
‘I wish we were abroad! Just the three of us.’ Maggie bit into a tuna wrap.
‘We need to get away for a few days. We haven’t been away in such a long time,’ Caroline agreed. ‘Feckin Covid.’
‘Oooh that would be blissful,’ Devlin enthused. ‘Let’s think about it. Are you up for it, Maggie?’
‘Sure am.’
‘Caroline, how are you doing time-wise at work?’
‘I’m fairly booked up with appointments for the next couple of months but, if you give me an idea of when, I can scale them down and pencil in some holidays. How about you?’
‘Well, apart from trying to get City Girl back on track after the last couple of years I’m not too bad. We were so lucky we didn’t go under. Shame we had to close Belfast, but Galway’s doing fine, thank goodness, and Dublin’s flying it. And I have to come up with some plans to celebrate City Girl’s thirty-fifth anniversary—’
‘What!’ exclaimed Maggie, shocked. ‘Thirty-fifth anniver- sary? How can that be? It only seems like yesterday!’
‘I know.’ Devlin shook her head. ‘It’s like a dream. Imagine: there weren’t even mobile phones when it opened.’
‘Oh the excitement of it. Remember? Dublin’s poshest gym and beauty spa. Everyone wanted to have membership. Half the people at the funeral today were members then,’ Maggie observed. ‘"Me! Me! Me!" was one of the first. She asked me what I did, one day after a stint on the treadmills. I told her I was a nurse and she had the cheek to ask, "How can you afford membership?" As I recall she was dressed in a tiger-print leotard and the kind of pink tights Jane Fonda used to wear when she was "going for the burn". She looked more like a cross between Tigger and Piglet, if the truth be told.’ Devlin and Caroline guffawed.
‘I feel old!’ Maggie groaned.
‘Well, you are a few years older than us,’ Devlin teased. ‘What are you going to do to celebrate the anniversary?’
Caroline asked.
‘I don’t know. Seeing "Me! Me! Me!" and Rapunzel and a few of the other original Grandees at the funeral gave me a bit of a shock. When I look in the mirror I get a bit of a shock too, to be honest,’ Devlin admitted.
‘You’re singing to the choir, sista!’ Maggie nodded. ‘At least we’re still ticking the fifties box. I suppose that’s some small comfort.’
‘Speak for yourself.’ Devlin scowled. ‘It was bad enough tick- ing the forties. I’m married to a man who’s ticking a different box! Luke’s in his sixties!’
‘Let’s not depress ourselves, Dev,’ Caroline remonstrated. ‘You could be moi: childless and manless, at my age—’
‘Lucky you,’ Maggie interjected sourly. ‘Much as I love my children, I could do with a break from their snowflakey prob- lems. Where did I go wrong? I ask myself. We just had to get on with things. Now they’re all going to therapy and swallowing anti-depressants like they’re Smarties.’
‘Different pressures, societal changes. It’s hard for them.’ Caroline patted her arm.
‘I know. I just have no patience anymore. It’s the friggin’ menopause, I suppose.’
'Let's not even go there,’ Devlin groaned, biting into a cupcake. ‘I flew off the handle with Luke because he decided to cut the grass last Saturday morning when I was trying to have a lie-in. I screeched at him! Like a fishwife!’
‘Oh dear,’ murmured Maggie, laughing. ‘You love your lie-ins.’
‘My patience threshold is zilch lately,’ Devlin admitted. ‘Mine too.’ Caroline sighed. ‘I have a client who really isn’t interested in moving forward no matter how hard I encourage her to – she has issues with her older sister, but she’s definitely partly to blame – you have no idea how close how close,’ she joined her two fingers together, ‘I came to telling her to get over herself yesterday. That’s baaad!’
‘Look what we’ve turned into: the City Aul Wans!’ Devlin grinned.
‘When you mention having a party I’m just thinking maybe you could do an event for charity, like one all those social butterflies go to: they’re all loaded. Make it the society bash of the year, lots of publicity, must-have tickets, prizes of free spa days, gym membership, facials, massages,’ Caroline suggested, having attended many such soirees when she was married to Richard, all those years ago.
‘A big City Girl bash!’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘Woohoo! There’ll be a lot of face-lifts for that. And I’ll be having the first one. Once a City Girl, always a City Girl. That’s us.’
‘We could put on the invite, "City Girls Forever!"’ Devlin exclaimed, eyes alight. ‘Ladies, this is going to be fun.’
City Girls Forever is published by Simon & Schuster
