by Rachel Quinn
Over the next few days Aileen felt a peculiar sort of restriction – even worse than before. Whenever she so much as approached the door she was asked where she was going. Usually her mother asked, occasionally it was her father. At least that made him talk to her.
Fergus had spoken to her only once. Aileen had asked why he was being so horrible to her. She needed to ask three times before she received a response.
‘That man’s a deserter,’ he said. ‘He’s brought shame on himself and we all get the idea you still want to see him, so you’re bringing shame on all the family. Think of the silent treatment as your penance for sin.’
Aileen found it hard to stop herself arguing. But no. She’d heard the discussions the boys had had with their father. If she were to argue, she would tell them that she’d seen the ruined parts of Belfast, that she’d known people who had lost loved ones to the bombs and bullets, that she’d heard of the horrible things that had happened in those camps, and that she could be certain that Niall had done a good thing. They would laugh bitterly at her and say he was a deserter, a traitor, a fool who’d helped the bloody Brits instead of letting them fall, a man who should, by rights, be in prison. The argument would continue in the same vein, and she would get angry and be goaded into saying more than she should, that she was going to see Niall again and they could whistle if they didn’t like it.
No, that would be very bad. Tempting, but bad. No, she could hold her tongue for a few days.
She did, however, occasionally have private moments, such as when she was alone in the bedroom, when she would shut the door and clench her fists and perform a solitary jig, shaking with excitement.
Oh, how she wanted to tell them, just to see how they would react. And oh, oh, how she longed to see Niall again.
She would tell them one day, when Niall had married her and taken her far away – perhaps to another county where it didn’t matter what they thought. It would happen. Briana would help her see to that.
And Briana did, although it took a few days for her to put her plan into action. When she finally did, Aileen struggled to keep still, to keep quiet, to pretend she had no idea what was going on.
‘Have you heard from our Cathleen lately?’ Briana said to her mother one morning while they were washing clothes together.
Her mother’s face adopted a pained expression. ‘I got a letter only the other day. She’s doing grand, so she is.’
‘Really?’ Briana said. ‘Oh, well. Yes, tis grand. I’m happy for her.’
She watched her mother pound her fists on a dress with a little more vigour than usual. And she waited.
‘Ah, no,’ her mother said. ‘I can’t lie about my own daughter. She seemed very down in the mouth, so she did.’
‘I have to say, she seemed a little lonely when I saw her last.’
‘Is that so?’
Briana nodded sadly.
‘Well, I’ve told her she can’t move back down here, sure I have. It was her choice to move up to the Big Smoke, and that meant we could move young Frank out of our bedroom and into yours. We can’t go back on that.’
‘Oh, I don’t think she’d be wanting that.’
Briana’s mother thought for a second before snapping, ‘Why? What did she say to you?’
‘Ah, only that she was looking forward to seeing me and Aileen again.’ Briana left it at that, and carried on wringing out clothes in measured silence. Eventually the reply came.
‘Perhaps you should go up and see her again.’
‘You think so?’
‘Have you any money left for the train fare?’
‘Ah, no. I suppose I could borrow some from Aileen and just go on my own.’ Briana left the sentence hanging. There was a long pause.
‘Aach, twould be unfair like that. The two of you should go together.’
‘You wouldn’t mind?’
Her mother smiled and nodded. ‘As long as that’s the only place you go. Cathleen might be a grown woman, but she’s still my daughter and I’ll always worry about her.’
Just around the corner, crouching by the fire and hanging on every nuance of every word, Aileen pinched her thigh to stop herself from showing any reaction.
‘Thank you, Mammy,’ Briana said, and went over to Aileen.
‘Did you hear that, Aileen?’ she said. ‘Mammy says we can go to Dublin together.’
Aileen bit her tongue and tried her best to sound pleasantly surprised. ‘Ah, grand,’ she replied. Then, with her voice a little louder, she said, ‘Thank you, Mammy.’
Her father, sitting next to the fire, put his reaction into a grunt, then switched on the wireless. Her three brothers, playing cards, were oblivious.
It was only much later – when the boys were playing football on the beach, their father was on the toilet in the backyard, and their mother had gone to Cready’s to buy ham – that the lid truly came off Aileen’s excitement. She hugged Briana, let a shriek explode from her mouth, and with a rare exuberance danced up and down the room.
The next Saturday morning they set off, their mother even accompanying them to Leetown Station, just to be sure they got on to the train safely.
‘Tell her I’ll see her soon,’ she said to Aileen and Briana, who were squeezing together to poke their heads out of the same window.
‘I will, Mammy,’ Briana said. ‘I’ll give her your love and tell her you were too busy this time.’
‘Ah, you do that, please.’
They settled into their seats, the train pulled out, and Aileen put her engagement ring back on again, which in turn put a wide, proud grin on her face. There was little conversation between the two of them as the train followed the coast through the north of Wicklow, although Aileen’s fidgeting got worse as they entered County Dublin.
Twice Aileen asked whether Briana had checked and double-checked the arrival time, and twice Briana told her it didn’t matter – that the train was arriving before noon, that they would wait for Niall or even surprise him. The plan was for Briana to help Aileen find Niall, then go to Cathleen’s place, after which they would reunite at the station for the return journey, back to a family that would be none the wiser.
The train chugged through the south side of the city, past the dreariness of the Dún Laoghaire dockside district, and almost to the banks of the Liffey, before pulling into Tara Street Station. And when that happened Aileen was waiting at the door, rattling the handle to open it well before the train came to a halt.
She cursed the door, which promptly opened, then jumped out on to the platform.
‘Won’t ye calm down,’ Briana said once she’d caught up. ‘He probably won’t be here just yet.’
‘He’s not coming. I just know it.’
‘Will he be wearing his uniform?’ Briana said, looking around too, her eyes hopping along the hordes of travellers.
‘Why would he be wearing his uniform? He’ll be wearing his suit – the one the Brits give their soldiers when they leave the army. I only caught a glance when he came to the house, but he looked so handsome in it, so he did.’ She tutted. ‘Uniform. Honestly.’
‘I don’t know. I was just asking.’
‘Well, ask something helpful, why don’t ye?’ Now Aileen looked at her sister for the first time since getting off the train. ‘Ah, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just being a bit . . . y’know.’
‘Selfish.’
‘That’s right.’
They caught each other’s glances and shared a brief laugh.
‘Let’s go and search,’ Briana said. ‘You take a look over the far side in the ticket office and I’ll have a quick look in the waiting room.’ She started walking, but her words hadn’t registered with Aileen, who was too busy squinting toward the ticket office, not daring to think she recognized the dark-haired man who was returning her gaze.
And then Aileen was gone.
Chapter 22
Niall was outside the ticket office waving a large piece of cloth in the air as he walked t
oward Aileen, but had to drop it and brace himself as she rushed toward him. He caught her in his arms and swung her around, just as he had on that day on the wooden bridge across the Crannagh over two years ago.
To Aileen they were one whirling being, their lips pressed together, their arms locked around each other, trying to squeeze and pull themselves even closer, just as she’d been dreaming of for those same two years.
The hoot of a train brought her back to reality, and she pulled her lips from his.
‘Oh God, Aileen – you came! You came!’ Niall’s voice was slightly deeper than she remembered, and weather-worn like an old shed.
‘Nothing would have stopped me,’ she answered. ‘Let me look at you, so I can believe you’re really here.’ She couldn’t resist another kiss, then stood back, still holding his hands, and inspected every inch of him. After all he’d been through – the travelling, the broken leg, the fighting, the fellow soldiers he’d known and lost, and God knows what else – this was just Niall, her Niall.
‘Hello, Niall,’ she chirped, conscious of the grin that grew crooked as she tried to rein it in.
‘Hello, Aileen,’ he said, with a twitch of his eyebrows.
She looked more closely, and noticed more changes. There were one or two extra lines on his face, and his hair desperately needed a comb. The uniform had been replaced by clothes that weren’t so distinguished. Underneath his black jacket, with its pockets bulging, his white shirt was covered in dark smudges. His baggy trousers were shiny just below the knees, and a toe peeked out from a hole in the point of one shoe. But more than anything else there was experience in his eyes, and that only made her love him even more. She ran her fingers through that wild, black hair and wanted to do it again and again.
A hint of sadness or even pain trying to hide itself in his lopsided smile made her stop. Now she could see he was also a little thinner than she remembered, probably fitter, she thought, and his hair needed a cut as much as a comb. But all of that was understandable – normal even, considering what he’d been through. Aileen didn’t know much about war. A broken leg she could understand, guns and bombs she could only imagine, although she’d seen their after-effects in Belfast.
‘I got your message,’ she said. ‘The letter you sent to Briana.’
‘That’ll be why you’re here.’ Now his smile was warmer, more like the Niall she knew. ‘You look like a million dollars, Aileen,’ he said, hauling the words from his soul, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘I had to see you again, but I didn’t want to upset your family by going to Leetown.’
‘I don’t care about my family, Niall.’ She checked herself. ‘Well, of course I do, but I like to think I don’t. If you know what I mean. I mean, I know what I mean.’
Niall laughed and gave his head a quick shake. ‘You haven’t changed, have you?’
She returned his laugh but there was a deliberate, humorous hollowness to it. ‘I have so, Niall. It’s been over two years.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .’
He stared at her for a moment – a moment when she wondered whether all those dreams she’d had over the past two years were really going to come true. Then he snaked a hand behind her neck. She felt his hand caress the back of her neck and gently pull her closer to him. Their lips met once more, and for a moment her eyelids were lifeless, her will non-existent. The feeling of his fingertips on the baby hairs on the back of her neck made her groan inside.
And then she knew – she knew her dreams were still alive. As Briana might have said, it was still there.
They parted again, and Niall lifted her left hand, pausing to stare at the ring. ‘I wanted to be sure you hadn’t found . . . y’know . . . someone . . .’
Aileen’s shaking head silenced him. ‘I still have your letters, every last one, hidden away in the house.’
‘Grand.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t write after I went to France.’
‘You had more important things to be concerning yourself with. It must have been terrible there.’
‘Ah, twasn’t so bad – apart from the time I honestly thought I was about to die.’
‘You were about to what?’
‘Hello, Niall,’ Briana said suddenly from the sidelines.
Niall dragged his gaze away from Aileen. ‘Ah, Briana. Tis grand to see you again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for all you’ve done.’
‘Twas nothing.’
‘And I’m sorry about . . .’ He looked down to display his clothes.
Briana looked proudly at Aileen. ‘You’ve no need to apologize, Niall. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my sister this happy. But . . . what exactly is it you do for a living now?’
He picked the cloth off the floor. ‘Oh, I work at most of the railway stations in Dublin, but usually this one.’
‘Doing what?’ Aileen said.
He smiled wryly, showed them his hands, which were covered in black smudges, and took a brush from one of his jacket pockets.
‘You’re a shoeshine man?’
‘Tis only temporary. Really.’
Aileen looked him up and down again. ‘Well, that would explain the clothes.’
‘You prefer me in my uniform?’
Aileen’s face lost all pretence of humour. ‘Don’t joke like that, Niall. You know I don’t care what you wear – it’s just that I pictured you in your nice new suit or how you were when we first met.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m no longer a soldier. But I’ll get a better job than this, I promise.’
‘Aach, you could be dressed as a clown or Charlie Chaplin or even a big orange carrot and I wouldn’t care.’ She peered intently at his face. ‘Although now I mention it, a black square under your nose, a walking stick, and you’re not a million miles away from Charlie Chaplin himself.’
He put on a serious frown. ‘I don’t have a walking stick just yet.’
‘But you do have the black boot polish. We could thumb a bit on for the moustache.’
His face cracked and he leaned forward, laughing. ‘Sure, you still say the daftest things, Aileen.’ He kissed her again. ‘And I’m glad that hasn’t changed, my Mrs O’Rourke to be.’
‘Ah, won’t ye look at the two of yez,’ Briana interjected. ‘You’re as annoying as you always were, and maybe a little bit more besides.’ She turned to Niall. ‘Anyhow, it’s nice to meet you again after all this time, but I’ll leave you two alone. I have another sister to see.’
‘And while she does that, I thought you could show me more sights of Dublin,’ Aileen said. ‘Perhaps we could go to a park or walk along the riverside.’
‘Ah.’ His gaze hopped from one sister to the other. He swallowed, looking like he was forcing down medicine. ‘I’m working until noon. I’m . . . I’m sorry.’
‘Can’t you get out of it?’ Briana said.
Niall’s hands fumbled with his polishing cloth; his head drooped forward a little. ‘I took the afternoon off for you. If I take the morning off as well I won’t be able to pay my rent.’
‘Don’t you get a day off ?’ Aileen asked.
‘Only Sunday. I didn’t think you’d want to come on a Mass day.’
‘That’s right,’ Briana said. ‘Mammy wouldn’t want that.’ She surveyed the station foyer, people flitting left and right before her eyes, from smart businessmen to scruffy tramps and every stage in between. ‘But Aileen hasn’t seen you for two years, Niall. Couldn’t you . . . ?’ She gave a frustrated sigh and looked suggestively at Aileen.
Aileen started opening her handbag. ‘You tell me what you would have earned today and I’ll give you the money.’
‘Ah, no.’ Niall said.
‘It’s for me, for us. I want to spend the day with you, Niall.’
‘Please, Aileen. You must know I can’t take your money.’
‘Yes, you can. This is no time for being proud.’
He shook his head firmly.
Aileen stared at him, a little anger showing
. ‘Yes,’ she said firmly.
‘Aileen. I’ll not be taking your money. I will not be taking your—’
‘You bloody well will, Niall O’Rourke.’
He stepped back a little from her, looking just a little fearful. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Just something she picked up in Belfast,’ Briana said.
Aileen stepped forward and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. ‘I haven’t seen you in two years, Niall. Two years. I want to walk along the banks of the Liffey with you and stay in your arms and talk until the sun goes down and . . . and . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Look, I don’t care where we go, but this is a special day for me. I want to make the most of it.’ She frowned and tried her best to summon a tear or two. ‘Please, Niall. Please.’
He paused, then pulled her in close, her arms around his waist, and his enveloping her shoulders. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But keep your money. I’ll manage somehow.’
Aileen, her cheek on his chest, her eyes closed, said, ‘I was only going to lend it to you anyhow. And at a very good rate of interest.’ She felt his chest quiver with the laughter she craved. She squeezed more tightly.
Soon Briana had left to see Cathleen, leaving Aileen and Niall to head for the riverside.
‘Did you say that you thought you were going to die at some point?’ Aileen said as they ambled, arm in arm, out of the station.
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I was being a little dramatic. Worse things happen.’
‘What? Worse things happen? Such as what?’
‘Let me explain what I mean.’
‘I think you should.’
‘Well, as you probably know, we moved town by town through northern France and Belgium. We’d become entrenched, as they say, in Holland for a time. It’s hard for anyone to understand, but it was horrible, dangerous and boring all at the same time. And while I was there I got the news that put it all into perspective, that made the hardships of war seem not so important after all.’
‘What could possibly be worse than that?’ Aileen said as he paused for breath.
She saw a few more lines around his eyes as he said, ‘That was when they got the message to me that my ma had died.’