by Rachel Quinn
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He glanced around, first assessing the truck on the other riverbank, then the footbridge, and finally the railway bridge. ‘Here, this’ll do for now.’ He carried her, striding along as if she were weightless, to the patch of riverbank beneath the railway bridge.
Aileen gasped and braced herself as he motioned to let her down, imagining her foot striking the earth. But it was a slow, cushioned landing, Niall’s solid arms effortlessly supporting her until he’d said, ‘Be sure to keep the weight off that foot, won’t ye.’
‘You think I should?’ she replied. ‘And here was me about to run home.’
‘Have it your own way,’ Niall said.
They sat together with their backs resting against the concrete supports, and for a moment his head was inches from hers, his shock of black hair now a solid wet lump. A hand that seemed too large for a man of his height came up to his face, and a thick thumb and forefinger pinched a stubborn dewdrop of rain from the tip of his bent nose.
He shuffled a respectable distance away from her. ‘In all fairness, that was a daft thing for me to say.’
‘Twas so.’ Aileen dragged her eyes away from his face. Under the bridge it was dark and musty, but made for a cosy shelter, with only the occasional drip of water from above.
They stayed there for a few minutes, she gasping in pain, he looking out at the heavy rain that had turned the river’s surface to a coarse mass of tiny explosions. Then she flinched a little as he reached up to her head. He plucked the cap off, stepped to the river’s edge, drenching his boots in the process, and used the cap to scoop up some water. ‘Here,’ he said, kneeling down at her feet, ‘let me look.’ After rinsing the mud off her ankle, he lifted it slightly, his hand supporting the flesh of her calf, and looked at the swollen area from a few angles. ‘Can you move your toes?’ he said.
She did, wincing with the pain.
He nodded. ‘Ah, tis only a sprain. You must have gone over on it. You’ve to rest it for a few days. It’ll be fine after that.’
She eyed him suspiciously, not completely sure whether he was joking or serious. ‘Are you a doctor?’
He shook his head firmly. ‘Used to play a lot of the football and the hurling. I’ve seen my fair share of broken and bashed-up legs over the years.’ He winked at her then added, ‘None as nice as yours, I have to say.’
She shot him a glance she hoped would convey contempt.
‘I’m sorry, was that too bold of me?’ He spent a few moments fiddling with his soggy cap before adding, ‘Would you like me to carry you home when the rain’s stopped?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Ah, right.’ He nodded a little too agreeably for Aileen’s liking, his fingers nervously kneading his cap.
They spent a few more minutes motionless, he admiring the view, she resting and groaning with the pain. Then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, leaned down and soaked it in the river. He stepped back and started wrapping it around her ankle, tying the corners in a knot.
‘That’s cold,’ she said.
‘I know. But it’ll help. Believe me.’ He looked at her face, which she knew couldn’t have been the prettiest sight in Wicklow, not that it mattered.
‘Football and hurling?’ Aileen said.
He nodded. ‘Hurling’s my favourite.’ He tapped his nose. ‘That’s what happened to this.’
‘Well, it’s plain you weren’t born with it that shape.’
‘Sure, that’s a little harsh.’
‘Tis,’ Aileen said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m joking.’
Aileen sighed, then tried to readjust her position, the movement making her flinch.
‘Is the pain really that bad?’ he said.
At first she didn’t answer, but within a minute she became more conscious of him looking at her. She relaxed a little as she exhaled long and slow. ‘Actually, tis waning off a bit.’
‘Good.’ He craned his neck to look out from under the bridge to the sky. ‘Bit like the rain. Twas nothing more than a heavy shower.’
‘What were you doing back there anyway?’
He frowned. ‘Where?’
‘Behind me. You were on the strand behind me, weren’t you?’
‘Sure, I was collecting up all the bottles to take back to the shop.’
‘I see. To get the money back on them.’
‘Ah, no. We just told yer man we’d do that for him. And I don’t want to get into trouble with the army.’ He kneaded his cap some more, then peered along the river which once again offered a smooth mirror to the sky.
She followed his gaze and said, ‘Rain’s completely stopped.’
‘Now to get you home.’ He stepped toward her.
‘Not just yet,’ she said. ‘A few minutes more.’
‘Grand.’ He nodded. ‘I’m Niall, by the way. Niall O’Rourke.’
‘And I’m Miss Sweeney. But I’ll let you call me Aileen.’
‘In that case I think I will.’
‘Ah, you should. Tis my name.’
‘Aileen.’ He glanced away in thought and back again. ‘Tis a lovely name, all right. Is the other one your sister?’
‘Does it show?’
‘Sure, you could be twins – very pretty twins with that dark red hair, the button noses and the green eyes. I think you have one or two more freckles than her though.’
Aileen screwed her eyes up at him. ‘Heck, you really are an extremely bold thing, aren’t you?’
‘I try it on. Tis only to cover up my shyness.’ He winked at her again.
‘And you’ve something wrong with your eye there – makes you look a right eejit when you close it quickly like that.’
‘Ah, right. Should I stop that?’
‘You should. Tell me, d’you have any sisters yourself ?’
Niall started swiping a few fingers over his cap, evading her eyes. He shook his head.
‘Ah, all brothers, is it then?’
Aileen waited. He went to speak, but it was only a breath, not an answer.
Then a voice calling Aileen’s name made them look across the river. Niall stepped out from under the bridge and looked toward the footpath in front of the row of houses. He squinted at the sun, now low in the sky and making a bright arc under the edge of a cloud.
They heard the voice again.
‘That’ll be herself,’ Aileen said, trying to get up. ‘My sister, Briana.’
‘I should be carrying you.’ Niall reached out to her. ‘I’m serious. You’ll be needing to keep the weight off your foot for two days at the very least.’
As she raised herself on to her good foot he placed a hand around her waist. Her instinct was to resist, but a glance at the warm dusk glow resting on his face stopped her. It seemed a different face to the one she’d seen when they’d first met.
‘Would you mind?’ she said. ‘Tis awful painful still.’
He said nothing, but swept her up as effortlessly as he had ten minutes before, and carried her over to the footbridge and then across it, to where Briana was waiting.
‘What in the name of God’s happened here?’ Briana said. ‘I turned around and you’d gone, so you had. I was sick with worry.’
‘Language,’ Aileen said, smirking. ‘I’ll tell Mammy what you said.’
‘She slipped and fell,’ Niall said. ‘Hurt her ankle. You must be Briana. Excuse me if I don’t shake your hand.’
‘Is she hurt badly?’
‘No. Well, not so much that she can’t crack a few bad jokes.’
‘He’s going to carry me home,’ Aileen said, pointing the way. ‘Better that than I try to walk on it.’
‘I see,’ Briana said as they started walking. ‘But Daddy won’t approve of his youngest daughter turning up like this.’
‘Ah, stop your worrying,’ Aileen muttered.
Niall turned his head to face Briana. ‘It’ll be grand. I can let her down quietly just before we reach your place. Sure
, she can hop the rest of the way with an arm around your shoulder.’
‘And what about your truck? Won’t it go without you?’
‘That’s hardly likely when I have the keys here in my pocket.’
‘Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind.’
‘Excuse my sister,’ Aileen said. ‘She thinks I’m twelve, so she does.’
He smiled. ‘Tis a reassurance, having a sister to look after you.’ Aileen detected a stutter in his walk as he spoke the words, and thought she saw a hint of pain flash across his face. Then he smiled again and carried on. ‘Sure, y’aren’t living in Dublin, are ye?’
‘Tis just the other end of the village,’ Briana said.
‘Not even a light training exercise for a big brawny soldier boy like yourself,’ Aileen added, giggling as she spoke.
Niall turned to Briana. ‘Will ye get this one? I’m after saving her from certain death and carrying her all the way home, and all she can do is give me the lip.’
‘Aileen will be Aileen. Tis what our mammy always says about her.’
‘She’s the black sheep of the family then?’
‘More of a lamb, but yes.’
‘You two,’ Aileen said as they all crossed the road. ‘Will ye not be talking about me as if I’m not here.’
Niall laughed. ‘Sure, my arms won’t let me forget you’re here.’
‘Are you saying I’m heavy?’
‘I’m not, but if my arms could talk, who knows what they might say.’
She gasped. ‘Ah, so now who’s being full of the lip? Soldier boy Niall, that’s who.’
They reached the corner of their house, and Briana stood in front, blocking Niall’s path. ‘You can let her down here,’ she said. ‘I’ll be taking her the rest of the way.’
‘Of course.’ He gently lowered her, holding her steady until she’d planted her good foot on the ground and looped an arm around Briana.
‘Thank you for your help,’ Briana said, and started pulling Aileen away – a little too quickly for Aileen’s liking.
‘Thank you so much for saving my life,’ Aileen said to Niall theatrically. ‘What can I ever do to repay you?’
‘Has she been at the drink?’ Niall said to Briana.
‘I’m drunk on pain is what I am,’ Aileen moaned.
‘Right,’ Briana said. ‘That’s enough, the both of you. Thank you for your help, Niall, and goodnight.’
Niall pulled his cap from his pocket and fixed it on his head as he stepped back. ‘Ah, twas nothing. Perhaps I’ll be seeing the two of yez again sometime.’
‘If I survive this mortal wound,’ Aileen shouted back at him.
‘Will ye shut up,’ Briana said. ‘Calm down or Daddy will think you really have been at the Guinness.’
A few awkward paces on, Aileen hooked her head around and looked back. There was nobody. Niall had gone, and she felt a sudden, confusing emptiness.
‘C’mon,’ Briana said. ‘Let’s get your foot rested.’
Aileen shivered.
‘And you’re soaked through too – aren’t you cold?’
‘I am, now you mention it. I just . . . I didn’t realize.’
‘We’ll get you inside and in front of the fire.’ Briana reached for the door handle and whispered, ‘And no mention of soldiers, d’you hear?’
Before the door was shut behind them their mother was there, asking what had happened, helping support Aileen, eyeing her up and down, and asking again what in God’s name had happened. Their father was slower, hovering a few feet away, letting his frown speak for him.
‘Calm down, Mammy,’ Aileen said.
Her mother addressed Briana. ‘I thought I told you to look after your sister?’
‘She’s fine,’ Briana said.
‘Tis only a sprained ankle,’ Aileen added. ‘I’m going to live.’
Her father stepped forward. ‘Don’t be talking to your mother like that, Aileen.’
There was more fuss and reprimand, mostly aimed at Briana, but a few minutes later the mood had settled and the sisters were sitting on the floor next to the fire, each clasping a cup of hot milk in their hands. Frank, their youngest brother, had already gone to bed, Fergus and Gerard were playing cards with their father at the table, and their mother occupied herself wringing out the men’s washed work clothes in a metal tub then draping them on a metal stand in front of the fire.
‘I don’t understand,’ Aileen whispered to her sister. ‘What did you mean by “No mention of soldiers”? What’s so wrong with soldiers?’
‘Ah, nothing so bad. You know what Daddy’s like when he’s been drinking – he can get a little angry at anything that doesn’t suit him, and sometimes there’s no knowing what suits him. You don’t want to shock him for no good reason by mentioning the poor man bringing you home.’
‘For no good reason?’
Briana tutted. ‘Ah, c’mon now. You’re hardly likely to be seeing him again, are you?’
‘Why ever not?’
‘He’ll be from some barracks heaven knows where, and—’
‘What are the two of yez whispering about?’ their father shouted across from the table as Gerard shuffled the pack.
‘Ah, nothing, Daddy. Just girl talk.’
‘Not about men, is it?’ Fergus said. ‘You have to be looking out for yourselves these days.’
‘Men?’ their father said, almost roaring the word out. ‘You’d better not be courting behind my back.’
‘Not forgetting your brothers,’ Fergus said, nudging Gerard, who just nodded in support. ‘We’ll give any man the once-over for you, just say the word.’
Gerard nodded again, then dealt out the new hand, and the trio returned their attention to the card game.
‘Anyhow,’ Aileen whispered to Briana, ‘I might be wanting to see him again.’
‘So what’ll you be doing – calling him on one of those telephone things?’
‘I might.’
‘And where will you be doing that then?’
‘Ah, won’t ye shut up, Briana.’
Briana laughed. ‘Sure, he’s the first boy you’ve met from another county and you’re hooked, so y’are.’
‘Shut up!’
‘What’s this all about?’ their mother said, placing a wicker basket of wet clothes on the floor. ‘Now stop with your being nasty, Aileen. Tis your sister here, don’t forget.’
Aileen looked straight at Briana and frowned.
‘I’m sorry,’ Briana replied to her mother. ‘Tis my fault.’
‘Well, you can both be sorry from the bedroom now,’ their mother replied. ‘I’ll be hanging the rest of these in front of the remains of the fire. Come on, move it.’
Briana stood and helped Aileen to her feet, and their father followed suit. ‘Come on, my boys,’ he said to Fergus and Gerard. ‘You’ll have to be waiting until tomorrow to win your money back.’
Briana and Aileen headed for what the Sweeneys still called ‘the children’s bedroom’ together with Fergus and Gerard. They all said their goodnights and asked God to bless one another, then their mother turned the lights out.
In a silent full darkness they all undressed down to their underwear. Fergus and Gerard got into one bed, the girls into the other, taking care not to disturb young Frank on a small affair in the corner.
Aileen pulled the woollen cover up to her neck to keep out the creeping night cold, and soon all she could hear was the occasional crackle from the fire in the living room. And Gerard snoring.
She said the word ‘Niall’ in her head over and over again, then told herself not to be so stupid and to get some sleep. But as she turned over, her thoughts switched from Niall to her brothers and sisters. Not those in the room with her, but the other ones. The older ones who had already escaped Leetown.
The oldest was Alannah, who’d married a farmer’s son (and very wisely too, according to Mammy and Daddy) and moved to the west coast. Bernard was living and working ‘somewhere in England’,
according to Mammy, to the clear disapproval of Daddy, who thought the Brits had taken enough from Ireland (not forgetting that they were still stubbornly holding on to a part of it). James and Cathleen were both working in two of the big shops in Dublin and made regular visits back home, mainly – so Aileen thought – to take delight in telling everyone how exciting the Big Smoke was, and how they couldn’t possibly (that was possibly, like an actor would say it) consider moving back to Leetown.
Then her thoughts turned to the ones who were yet to escape. Gerard was the oldest still at home – although Fergus behaved like he was. To Aileen’s knowledge, neither was showing any interest in leaving. Aileen had been vaguely aware of Briana having had boyfriends, but clearly none who suited her.
A doctor had told Mammy to stop having children after Aileen had been born, but she couldn’t resist ‘going for the ninth’, and that suited Aileen down to the ground because it meant that she wasn’t forever the baby of the family, as Frank was always being called. At fourteen it was starting to become a little daft.
She fell asleep wondering and dreaming what the next few years might bring – where she might travel, what sort of a man she would marry, and where she would settle.
At the Curragh Camp, County Kildare, Kevan had dropped the truck off at the compound and all four soldiers were strolling to the barracks.
‘You’re awful quiet, Niall,’ Kevan said. ‘Tisn’t like you. Not at all.’
‘Ah, I’m just tired.’
‘What did you think of Africa falling?’
Niall’s footsteps stuttered for a second. ‘Africa’s fallen?’
‘Heck, Niall. I’m after telling you not half an hour since. I heard just before we left the barracks. The Germans and Italians have been kicked out of Africa. I must say, I got the impression you weren’t listening.’
‘No, in all fairness I was listening all right. I’m just after forgetting.’
‘We all know what your mind is on,’ one of the others said. ‘The lass you carried home.’
‘Sure, tis not. Tell me more about the Africa thing.’
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Kevan said. ‘They think Italy’s the next target for the Allies though.’