by Rachel Quinn
Aileen stopped walking and gasped, a hand leaping up to cover her mouth, all thoughts of how Niall had almost died whisked out of her mind. She burst into tears and threw her arms around him, trying her best to cradle his head. They stayed together for a few minutes then parted, a period of silence allowing Aileen to compose herself. Niall nodded for them to start walking again.
‘I think I told you in one of my letters she was ill. Weak heart. She did well to survive for so many years after Da died.’
‘Ah, Niall. It’s still a terrible thing to happen.’
‘Tis.’ He nodded slowly. ‘What made it worse was that by the time I got around to going home the war in Europe was over and I was supposed to be celebrating.’
‘But you did go, right?’
‘I did, but . . .’
‘But what?’
Niall smiled awkwardly. ‘By then they’d already buried her.’
‘Ah, Niall. That’s awful, so tis.’
‘But I visited Ma’s grave and went over to the cottage. I visited the landlord. I thought I might be able to keep it.’
‘And?’
He shook his head glumly. ‘He told me in no uncertain terms I wouldn’t be welcome.’
‘Why not?’
‘Twas the British Army thing. The whole village knew me as a deserter. And in all fairness to the man, he’d already arranged new tenants.’
‘What about your mammy’s effects?’
‘Ah, she had none. She didn’t work, and life was hard for her after Da died. I sent most of my army pay back to her.’
‘Is that why you have no money?’
‘The army gave me compassionate leave to go back home, then I went back to Aldershot for another month before I got demobbed.’
‘De-what?’
‘When they let you go for good. Anyhow, by the time I travelled to see you, went again to put some more flowers on Ma’s grave, paid for a few weeks’ food and lodging while I sorted myself out and looked for work . . . well, I have nothing left save for my rent. But I’ve told you. It won’t always be like that. Tis only a matter of time before my luck turns. I can work as hard as the next man.’
‘I know you can, Niall, I know.’ She nodded firmly. ‘But tell me, what was the thing about when you thought you were going to die?’
‘Ah, no.’ He held a palm up and gave his head a dismissive shake, more pain showing around his eyes. ‘It’s not the time to talk about that. Not just now. Too morbid.’
‘Well, all right. I’m just thanking God that you survived, and that the war’s over and you won’t be going back.’
‘Me too. So now you can tell me how you got on in Belfast.’
And Aileen did. She told him about her job at the dressings factory, about the family she’d stayed with, and about the ruins of the Belfast Blitz she’d visited with Doreen. There didn’t seem much point in telling him about her evenings out with Marvin. Whatever that had been, it was now in the past. But she did talk about how she was adjusting to life back in Leetown. However, toward the end the words didn’t flow; half of her mind was on the day Niall thought he was going to die, the other on what he was going to do now. She was conscious that she was doing all the talking. Perhaps that was for the best – perhaps she didn’t want to know what Niall had got up to. All these thoughts conspired to dry up her words.
They reached the banks of the Liffey, where they sat on a bench, neither of them speaking, just holding each other, staring out at the dark glassy water.
Niall broke the silence. ‘I know you haven’t been able to wear the ring at home,’ he said in a slightly frightened voice. ‘But if you’ve met another . . . I mean . . .’
Aileen poked her head up to peer along the river. ‘Heck, tis a mighty beast, this thing. So much wider than the Crannagh.’
‘Aileen, I’m serious.’
She turned and silenced him by placing a kiss full on his mouth. When she pulled back she put a finger against his still moist lips. ‘Listen to me, Niall O’Rourke. You’re mine, so y’are. Every day while you were away I prayed for you to survive this war, and now you have, you’re mine. So, there’ll be no more talk like that. D’you hear me?’
She took her finger from his mouth and his lips trembled for a moment. She saw him rapidly blink tears away, his face bathed in a smile of relief.
‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to hear.’
‘Well, ye heard it, ye big eejit. And that’s all there is to it.’
He gave a lengthy sigh. ‘You know, it’s hard to believe, but there’s a lot of time doing nothing when you’re fighting a war – time for your mind to wander, time for you to think things aren’t . . . well, things aren’t as they might be. War can do strange things to a man’s mind, but I’ll get over it. You see if I don’t.’
‘You will that, Niall. You’ll be grand. I’ll make sure of it.’
‘Ah, thank you.’
‘And stop thanking me. I haven’t done anything yet.’
‘Ah, you have.’
They sat together for almost an hour, talking of Aileen’s family, and of Niall’s memories of his mother, but also not talking at all for long stretches of time.
‘I didn’t cry, you know,’ he said after one particularly long silence.
‘When?’
‘At my ma’s grave. I thought I would, but it just didn’t come.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘But it’s hardly right. My own ma.’
Aileen said nothing, but laid her head on Niall’s chest.
‘C’mon,’ Niall said. ‘Let’s take another walk.’
Seconds later they were matching each other step for step, moving as one along the riverside. There were no nervous silences, no uncertain frowns, no self-conscious pauses. Niall wanted to know more about what had happened to Aileen in Belfast, who she’d met and what she had and hadn’t liked about living there.
And Aileen was happy and excited to go into more detail about everything. Well, everything apart from the times she’d been wooed by Marvin, and especially the time he’d said he was in love with her. But Niall seemed genuinely pleased she’d enjoyed her time and made friends, relieved she was never injured, and impressed by her knowledge of the war. She didn’t tell him she’d gleaned much of that knowledge from news broadcasts she’d seen at the cinema with Marvin.
Likewise, Aileen wanted to know all about Niall’s experiences – what England was like, what kind of people he’d trained with and fought alongside, what it was like travelling through France, and all about his earlier campaign across the Mediterranean when he’d broken his leg. Despite all their time apart, Niall talked as if she was his best friend, colouring the picture of army life with impressions of the people he’d met, and not being afraid to talk about the battles he’d fought in.
By the time he started talking about the push into Belgium Aileen was getting cold, and so she suggested they go to one of the many cafés that peppered the city. But Niall said he preferred to sit down on a bench again, which they did for a while, giving him time to talk about the many, many times he’d thought of her over the years, and how his leg felt better than new.
At that point Aileen said, ‘Niall, I’m really cold. Could we please go to a café?’
There was no reply.
‘Please?’ she repeated in a slightly pained tone.
‘Do we have to?’ he said. ‘I prefer the fresh air.’
But Aileen could sense a tightness in his chest, and saw how his other arm – the one not wrapped tightly around her – was huddled to his torso. She felt his hand.
‘Sure, you’re frozen too, Niall. Let’s go somewhere warmer.’
‘There’s a library just beyond. Tisn’t so far to walk.’
‘Ah, no. We need a hot drink. And I’m getting a little hungry too. Aren’t you hungry?’
He showed her a flat smile and shook his head.
She drew herself away from him and examined his f
ace. He seemed distant. ‘Sure, you must be,’ she said. ‘You can’t have eaten for—’
‘I haven’t any money, Aileen.’ There was irritation in his voice. He stared at her for a moment then looked away. ‘I’m sorry. But I’ve been telling you, Aileen. Next time. I’ll take you there next time.’ Then a bolt of concern hit his face. ‘You . . . You will be coming here again, won’t you?’
She turned and lifted her face up to his, close enough to see a heaviness around his eyes.
‘Please, Aileen. Say you will.’
For a moment she was going to tell him not to be ridiculous, that she’d made plain her feelings. Then she saw not so much concern as fear on his face. She kissed him full on the lips, and felt his hand drifting around the back of her neck. The feeling made her tremble, leaving her body lifeless and yet vibrant with joy at the same time.
‘I have to,’ she whispered to him. ‘How else are we to be planning this wedding of ours?’
The look of concern or fear or whatever it was fell away from his face, to be replaced by . . . well, it wasn’t exactly a grin, but it made her heart sing.
‘I was worried you wouldn’t want to,’ he said.
She laughed again, a warm laugh. ‘What happened to the bold and cocky Niall who charmed me in Leetown?’ she said.
‘I’ll be guessing he got knocked sideways in France and beyond. I’ve . . . I’ve seen some horrible things, Aileen. Sometimes I think I’m not the same person I was.’
‘Aach, so y’are, ye daft eejit.’
He spluttered a laugh, his eyes now showing some of his former spirit. ‘That’s kind of you to say so. I like to think the old Niall is here somewhere and he’s only needing the love of a sweet woman to bring him out.’
‘I’m certain of it,’ she said. ‘And after all, you’re only a man, so y’are.’ She lifted her hand to his face and brushed away a stray curl of hair that was teasing his forehead. ‘I know it’s not the same thing, Niall, but being in Belfast changed me. So I understand. And in a way we’ve both changed together. And I’ll wager we’ll both keep changing for the rest of our lives – we can be sure of that if nothing else.’
He took a moment to gaze thoughtfully into her eyes. ‘You have some very wise things to say, Aileen Sweeney. Did you know that?’ Then his expression turned to one of concern, and Aileen knew his mind was turning to the subject she was starting to hate.
‘But it’s not just that,’ he said. ‘You know what the problem is now: your da and your brothers detest me, and I get the impression even your ma doesn’t really care for me either.’
‘Briana likes you. Frank too.’
‘You know that isn’t enough, Aileen. You know.’
Aileen let out a tired sigh. ‘They’ll accept you. I’ll make sure they do.’
‘And I’m already after asking around quite a few places for a better job. That should help. I just need time.’
‘I know you do.’ Aileen stood up and grabbed his hand. ‘Niall O’Rourke, I’ll make you a deal. Today I’ll buy us a lovely hot pot of tea and a big slice of fruit bread each. The next time we meet, you – Mister Moneybags himself – will be paying.’ She leaned back playfully to pull him off the bench. ‘How does that sound?’
He looked up at her, his eyebrows shifting up like those of a puppy dog. ‘That sounds grand.’
‘And about time too. Let’s get ourselves somewhere warm.’ She tugged harder and he got to his feet, then she grabbed his arm as if it was a length of rope and started pulling him away from the riverside.
Chapter 23
A week later Aileen and Briana set off for Dublin again. They’d pulled the same trick, said they were going to make a regular thing of visiting Cathleen. Their mother was a little less keen on it this time but agreed nonetheless. And Briana even made sure Cathleen was in on the subterfuge, just in case any of the rest of the rest of the family contacted her. Cathleen understood – she was, after all, another sister.
They used the same drill, meeting Niall at Tara Street Station, the only difference this time being that the rain was coming down in sheets, so they had to run from the train carriage to the shelter of the concourse. As soon as they stopped running Aileen saw him, standing exactly where they’d met the week before, so she started running again, and very soon Briana had left to see Cathleen again, leaving Niall and Aileen together.
It was immediately obvious to Aileen that Niall was in better spirits this time. There was a brightness in his eyes when he smiled that she hadn’t seen the last time. He was also wearing his suit rather than dirty work clothes, which didn’t matter to Aileen but was clearly good for his confidence.
They embraced. He gently held the back of her neck again and pulled her toward him until she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. It was like a chain reaction, every muscle in her body gradually relaxing and warming. They held each other, and Aileen realized they hadn’t actually spoken yet. She didn’t care.
They parted, holding each other at arm’s length, and now she got an even better look at his face. And it looked good. Good like a badly missed best friend. She looked down. The suit was crumpled around his ankles, and the sleeves were turned up at his wrists. It was strange – he’d looked so handsome in it before. Again, she didn’t care.
Yes, this was it: he was starting to get back into civilian life. He would soon find a better job, and with it gain the favour of her family, and they would get married. The new Mr and Mrs O’Rourke would live in a cottage of their own and have a few little O’Rourkes. Yes, she’d seen a glimpse of the new ways when she’d worked in Belfast. Her eyes had been opened to the possibilities of being a working woman, which was all right while she was young and single, but would be impossible once she got married and those little O’Rourkes arrived.
‘Hello again,’ he said.
The words brought her out of the little bubble she’d been in, and once again she became aware of the hiss of the steam trains, the clack of heels on platform, the hubbub of conversation, and the distorted blare of the loudspeaker announcements.
He pretended to frown.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Yes, hello again.’
‘C’mon,’ he said, placing an arm around her. ‘Remember that deal we made?’
And she did. No more words were spoken because none were needed until he opened the door to the café and they sat down. She opted for a big wedge of sponge cake with jam filling while he had a rock cake.
They settled, took sips of tea, and shared stolen smiles that got wider as the time ticked by. Aileen could feel her face blush. It was strange how she felt exhilarated and embarrassed and exactly where she belonged all at the same time.
‘Didn’t I tell you things would change?’ Aileen said.
Niall looked at his cup with suspicion. ‘The tea’s certainly changed.’
‘Ah, tis the rationing.’ She leaned across and whispered. ‘Some of these places are grand, but others put all sorts in as a substitute. We only have good tea at home because Daddy knows someone who knows someone.’ She pointed to her cake. ‘And the jam in this is spread so thinly it mightn’t as well be there.’
‘At least I’m paying this time. It didn’t feel right, you spending your money on me.’
She shrugged. ‘Ah, who cares about that?’
‘I do,’ he said, all the while maintaining his smile.
‘Ah, so you don’t feel manly letting me buy you a cake?’
‘Something like that.’
‘And does your new-found wealth stretch to taking me to the cinema?’
His smile fell away as if his face had been slapped. ‘The . . . the cinema?’
‘Well, I’m not keen on walking along the riverbank tonight.’ She made a point of peering through the window at the rain dancing on the street outside and the umbrellas hurrying by.
‘Erm . . . no, I ah . . .’
‘What?’ she said. ‘What is it?’
He shook his head, then took a bite of rock cake, chewing an
d moving the chunk slowly around his mouth. ‘Tis nothing,’ he muttered.
‘I can pay,’ she said.
He shook his head again, this time more firmly.
‘I don’t mind paying, Niall. And I certainly don’t want us to be falling out over money.’
‘And neither do I. But I can’t let you pay for everything.’
She reached across and grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. ‘Niall O’Rourke, just you listen to me. Are you listening?’
He nodded.
‘When I was in Belfast, the house I lodged in refused to take any rent from me. I tried to insist, but she wouldn’t take a penny. She made me promise to spend my money on something that would make me happy. The thing is, Niall, you make me happy. I have plenty of money for tea and cakes and the cinema, so I don’t want to hear any more of this, d’you hear me?’
A little sadness drew itself on his face and she felt her hand being squeezed gently.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I have to admit you talk a lot of sense. But I’ll pay next time.’
Aileen nodded in agreement, and there was a long, awkward silence before she glanced behind her, to the clock on the wall. ‘We have a little time, so we do. Briana says Cathleen told her James said someone he knows told him they usually start screenings at half past seven.’
Niall snorted a laugh, and spent a few seconds desperately trying not to choke on his cake. He took a sip of tea to help it on its way down. ‘What was that again?’ he said.
She went to speak, but he held up a hand. ‘It’s all right. I think I got the gist.’
She leaned over to him and whispered. ‘At least it’s cheered you up a little.’
‘Ah, I can certainly rely on you to do that, Aileen.’
‘And as I’m paying I’ll choose the film we see.’
He nodded. ‘I can’t argue with that.’
‘And you don’t mind? I don’t mind if you do mind. Do you mind?’
He didn’t answer at first, the pause more to control his laughter than from indecision. Eventually he straightened his face. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind at all, and I’m sorry for being such an awkward eejit.’