by Rachel Quinn
He stopped walking and laughed out loud. It was the first proper laugh she’d heard from him that day. It quickly died to a smile, and he muttered quietly, as though to himself, ‘You’re a rare one, Aileen.’ And then the smile died. ‘C’mon.’ He nodded for them to start walking again.
They headed back to the Liffey to take in some fresh air after the smokiness of the cinema. They were both silent for a while. But when they reached the banks of the river, Niall led them to the railings, where they both leaned over, listening to the rush of the water. Niall looked straight into the river, although to Aileen his focus seemed a million miles away.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she said. ‘You don’t look well.’
‘I’m fine!’
Aileen pursed her lips and glared.
‘I’m sorry, Aileen. I shouldn’t raise my voice at you of all people.’
She nodded glumly. ‘That’s all right.’
His eyes started roving over her face, settling on her eyes. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ he said. ‘Oh, bloody hell, Aileen. What are we going to do?’ He let out a sigh that lowered his shoulders an inch. He looked away, but Aileen grabbed his face and turned it back.
‘Are you crying?’ she said.
A slow, lazy blink let loose the drops from his eyes. Aileen pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face.
‘Ah, no. Leave me be.’ He sniffed and wrestled his head free.
Aileen examined his face. Now he looked tired and weary, his jowls hanging like they never did before the war. As Aileen’s father used to say, he looked like his own older brother.
‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I cry all the time. Just ask Briana. Especially while you were away. I used to cry all the time then.’ He didn’t acknowledge the words. ‘Niall, look at me,’ she said. ‘Please.’
He did, then said, ‘Oh, Aileen.’
‘What? What is it?’
‘I can’t do this to you, Aileen. I just can’t.’
‘Do what?’ Her voice weakened, she felt her throat closing up. ‘Oh, I see. So . . . you do want to break off our engagement.’
He looked straight ahead, ran the palm of a hand across his face. ‘Don’t make this harder than it is. I don’t . . . it’s not that I want to break it off. It’s just . . . I don’t want to string you along. I want you to be happy, Aileen.’
‘But . . . but I am happy. You make me happy.’
‘Ah, now, sure y’are. But don’t you ever think about the future? I don’t have any family. Your family hate me and always will for deserting. This bloody government hate me and seem hell-bent on keeping a boot on my throat. What d’you think it’s going to be like in five years’ time? Or ten years? What do we live on?’ He pulled the stubs of the cinema tickets from his pocket and held them up to her. ‘Thank you, Aileen. Really. Thank you for buying me a drink and taking me to watch a film. But you’ve said yourself, your money won’t last forever, and I don’t want you to waste what you have left on me.’
Now Aileen felt the tears overcome her, running freely down her cheeks. ‘Niall. Please don’t do this. I’d give you my last penny, you know that.’
‘I know you would. But I don’t want that.’ He held her head and pulled her gently to his chest, where she nestled, wiping her tears on his jacket, snaking her arms around him and holding on like she was never going to let go. They stayed that way for a few minutes, then he said, ‘C’mon, let’s sit down.’ At first she resisted, but soon they were on a bench, his arm around her shoulders.
‘I’m so sorry, Aileen. It wouldn’t be right for me to let you keep thinking that . . . that somehow everything’s going to be grand when it clearly isn’t.’ Now he brought his arm back from around her shoulder, and she felt cold, even a little naked. ‘Surely you can see that. A shoeshine man can’t support you, Aileen, let alone a family as well.’ He sighed, then ripped up the ticket stubs and threw them to the ground. ‘Damn!’ he hissed. ‘I bloody hate meself sometimes. I wish I’d never joined the bloody British Army.’
Aileen let out a grunt as she slapped his face. ‘Niall O’Rourke, just you take that back.’
‘But it’s—’
‘Take it back, Niall. I’ve seen, remember. I’ve seen it. I’m not like the rest of my family and you know it. When I was in Belfast I saw the film footage, I heard the stories. I know what Germany and Japan have been doing to people. So I understand what you were doing there, what the point of it all was.’ She heaved a few deep breaths, her face flushed, her eyes fiery. ‘My family might not be proud of you. Nobody else in this country might be proud of you, but hell, Niall, I bloody well am. It’s how I know you’re a good man and it’s why I love you. So you’ll take those words back right now or I’ll jump into this river, so I will. D’you hear me?’
He stared at her, perhaps for a minute. It felt like an hour to Aileen.
‘By God, you’re special,’ he said eventually. ‘And I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t say that. I’m sorry – and I’m sorry for being so miserable. But none of that changes the facts. By the look of things, I’m going to be poor forever.’
‘You’re poor now and I love you.’
‘Ah, thanks.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’ll succeed. I know you’ll find something somewhere and you’ll work hard and do well at it. It might not look like it now, but I have faith in you, so I have.’
‘Well . . .’ He took a few long, drawn-out breaths as he searched for words. ‘At least one of us has.’
‘Oh, hell, Niall. You’re kind and you’re brave and you’re hard-working. That’s good enough for any girl. Can’t you see that?’
But Niall was staring down at the ground, motionless.
She thumped his shoulder, and then again. ‘Jesus, Niall, all you need is a little more fire in your belly, a little fight. Can’t ye show people what you’re made of, for God’s sake.’
He looked up at her. There was an expression on his face she hadn’t seen before – a blank, big-eyed stare as if he was trying to tell her something, trying to pass a message on, but was also fearful of something. He looked back down to the ground again, to the same spot as before. Aileen followed his gaze. He was looking at . . . at what? At the cinema tickets?
‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Niall, what’s . . . ?’
He stood up again, walked toward the river and held tightly on to the railings. She followed. He was staring out again, staring at nothingness. She tugged his shoulder and he looked at her, but it was that same blank, pensive stare. He cocked his elbow and hoicked his chin up, the signal for her to hold on to his arm and follow. She did, and they strode along the riverbank promenade for a few minutes.
‘Niall, you’re worrying me,’ she eventually said.
But there was silence.
‘Talk to me, Niall. What is it?’
‘Nothing. Let’s head back to the station.’
She stopped still. ‘No. Talk to me.’
‘It’s just something,’ he said.
‘Something?’
‘Something I need to think about.’
‘No, it isn’t, Niall. It sounds like it’s something you need to tell me about.’
‘I can’t, not yet.’
‘You want me to beat it out of you? Is that it?’
He looked at her, gauging her. In return she raised her eyebrows, glaring at him. He smiled.
‘I’m trying to be serious,’ he said.
‘So am I. Now, tell me.’ She pulled his arm as she spoke.
‘Well . . .’ He pointed to another spare bench. They sat. ‘You see, that film we just saw.’
‘The film?’ She screwed her face up.
‘I didn’t think much of it at the time. Or perhaps I did, but I was confused. It only occurred to me later.’
‘When you ripped up the tickets and spent five minutes staring at them?’
He nodded. ‘Twas something like that. And I did enjoy the film. Twas about a load of Irish people moving to N
ew York to make new lives for themselves.’
‘And?’
His only reply was for his eyes to flit to his own body, then to hers, then settle on her face.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Now it was her turn to stand and step over to the railings, gazing out over the water. She was aware of him following, standing next to her. She knew he was shrugging his shoulders as if it was obvious all along. She was also aware that words were tumbling from his mouth, but none of them registered. She only started to listen when she turned her head and looked directly at him. And now there was a little of that fight, that passion she admired so much, both on his face and in his words.
‘Don’t you see? It’d be grand, me and you. I can get work there – proper work because I won’t be blacklisted – and we could rent one of those apartment things or even a house. The country’s booming and they’re crying out for workers just now. I’ll be treated like a human being, and we won’t have to arrange to meet in secret like we do here. We can have everything we ever dreamed of. Come on, Aileen, a new life, just you and me – a tree grows in Brooklyn for us – what d’you say?’
All Aileen could do was gulp, still focussed on his animated face, his excited eyes, his grin wider and more spirited than it had ever been this side of the war. She felt like she was swallowing her tongue, and sensed the trickle of the tears she didn’t want to come.
‘Oh, Niall.’ She tilted her head and frowned. ‘Niall, I can’t do that. I . . . I can’t.’
‘But why not? It would solve all our troubles.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s too big for me. It would scare me – it scares me just to think about it. I’m just a Wicklow girl. My family’s everything to me. Sure, they’re a pain in the neck at times, but they’re . . . they’re everything I have, and my home’s here.’ She glanced up and down the river and behind her. ‘Well, no. Leetown’s my home, Dublin’s the back of beyond, and Belfast was the end of the world. But . . . America?’ She shook her head again.
‘But . . .’ Niall let out a frustrated sigh, and for a second looked as though he was going to collapse. ‘Ah, who am I fooling? You’re right. It was only a thought, nothing more than a stupid idea.’ He held her hand, squeezing it. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Forget I said it.’
‘It’s grand, so it is. I’m flattered you asked. To ask a girl to marry you is one thing. To ask her to go to America and marry you, well, that’s something else entirely. So, I’m sorry if you . . . if you think I’ve let you down.’
‘Ah, no.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t apologize. It’s me who should be sorry. I know I’ve been awful miserable lately.’
‘With good reason.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Aileen said, ‘C’mon. Won’t you show me where you’re living?’
‘Tis a hell of a mess.’
‘I only want to see it, Niall. I won’t be living there.’
‘Hah. You wouldn’t fit.’
‘And we can check the time on the way.’
His eyes darted around behind them. ‘There,’ he said.
She looked over to the clock then shot up to her feet. ‘Oh heck, I was forgetting. I have a train to catch. C’mon.’
They hurried along the streets toward the station, darting left and right to avoid lovers, drunks and the occasional vagabond. Eventually Aileen shrieked as she spied her sister waiting at the platform gate.
‘I was just about to give up on you,’ Briana said as they approached. ‘Lord only knows what sort of a fuss Daddy would make if I turned up on my own.’
But Aileen was hardly interested in what her sister was saying as they all rushed along the platform to the waiting train, Aileen stumbling once or twice as she broke into a trot. She rushed, but at the same time she didn’t want to go.
The carriage door. An embrace. No, more than an embrace. Aileen allowing Niall’s arms to envelop her like a warm woollen blanket on an icy winter’s day, their chests pressed together, their lips locked in a passionate but painful kiss that Aileen had no intention of cutting short for a mere train ride.
‘Aileen!’ she heard. ‘Come on.’ She turned her head. Briana was holding the carriage door open.
‘Please,’ Niall whispered in her ear. ‘Visit me next Saturday. I’ll be here at noon.’
‘I’ll be here too,’ she said. They kissed again, but slowly the embrace weakened. Even when she felt his solid hands move to her shoulders, gently pushing away, she resisted. And when he pulled his warm lips away from hers she felt weak, frightened, and not so far from passing out.
‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You’ll not be wanting to get yourself into even more hot water.’
Then, from the carriage: ‘Aileen!’
Only then did she move, but the final few steps on to the train might as well have been barefoot across hot coals. She grasped Briana’s outstretched hand, pulled herself up, then closed the door and leaned out of the window. From there Niall seemed a lonely figure. It was no more than ten or twenty seconds before the whistle blew and the train jolted into motion, but for every one of those seconds Aileen was on the verge of stepping back on to the platform. As the train pulled away, she waved frantically back at Niall, who stood there with a hand aloft.
Then he was gone.
And then Aileen burst into tears.
Now it was her sister’s hands – small and delicate – that were on her shoulders, guiding her away from the door and toward the compartments. The first two were full. There were only two spare seats in the third, and they took them.
Aileen’s head swirled with anger and sadness at what she wanted so much but was starting to realize she might never have. Whether her sister spoke or not, she didn’t know. What the other occupants were doing, she didn’t care. She was content to gaze aimlessly out of the window, and soon the bright glow of the city gave way to the light-pricked blackness of rural Wicklow.
By the time the train had chugged halfway back to Leetown, the two girls were alone in the compartment, and Briana clearly felt free to talk.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said.
‘What?’ Aileen replied, now shaken from her musing, and also fearing what was coming – fearing too what her own answers might be.
Briana gave her back a soothing rub. ‘Twas all going so well back there on the station platform. Very touching, like Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, or—’
Aileen shot her a stern glance.
‘I’m not poking fun at you, Aileen. I was almost in tears myself, so I was. But . . . well, now I can see something’s wrong. I expected a little sadness, but only a little. You’re deep in thought when you should be bouncing off these walls in happiness. What happened?’
Aileen’s torso heaved a couple of times as she drew in deep gasping breaths. ‘It’s grand, so it is. Niall has a few troubles at the moment, but it’ll all come good soon enough and we’ll be married next year, so we will.’ She nodded reassuringly.
‘Does he have a job yet? I mean, besides shining shoes.’
‘And what’s wrong with shining shoes?’
‘Nothing’s wrong with it, Aileen. I’m only asking.’
‘Nothing. You’re right, nothing. People will always be needing their shoes to be clean and shiny. And I’m sure Mammy and Daddy will come round to liking him soon enough. I know they will.’
Briana just stared. And stared some more.
‘What?’ Aileen said. ‘What is it?’
Briana squeezed Aileen’s hand. ‘They say love is blind, Aileen.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Well, I’m starting to wonder . . .’
Aileen shuffled to the side, distancing herself from her sister. ‘Wonder what?’
‘Ah, Aileen. I know you’re in love, but you’re making things so hard for yourself. Perhaps that’s why you’re upset.’
Aileen stared at Briana’s face. Her forehead seemed to be carved from pity, her grimace like a
twisting knife. And Aileen felt the twist. She turned away, her hand instinctively covering her eyes, and the tears started to drip from her chin.
‘I’m sorry,’ Briana said quickly. ‘I’m sorry I said that, Aileen. I’m sure it’ll . . .’ She laid a hand on Aileen’s shoulder and gently shook her. ‘What is it, Aileen? There’s more, isn’t there? There’s something you haven’t told me.’
‘He’s . . .’ Aileen took a long breath to calm herself. ‘He’s saying how he wants to go to America.’
‘America?’ Briana’s jaw fell slack for a few seconds. ‘But, you mean, just to try things out there?’
Aileen looked up, wiped her eyes clear and shook her head. ‘For good.’ A shrill scream came from her lips. ‘He says there’s no work for him here, says the government and all the employers have it in for him.’
‘But . . . is he wanting you to go with him?’
Aileen shook her head, although it was more of a clueless roll, an accompaniment to the shrug of her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. He says he does, but I just don’t know. And I can’t bear to think of it. I can’t go there, Briana, I just can’t. I’m after telling him every time I see him that things will get better here. I don’t want him to go, Briana. It would kill a part of me, I’m sure.’
‘Oh . . . oh, God.’
‘What’ll I do, Briana?’
Briana went to speak once, then again, both times shaking her head as no words came. Then she glanced through the carriage window at the River Crannagh, an almost fluorescent sliver of reflected moonlight cracking the darkness. ‘For now you’ll just have to be pulling yourself together. We have to get off here and the last thing you need is Mammy or Daddy seeing you in this state.’
‘You know, I’m not sure I care.’
Briana’s eyes widened. ‘Well, you better had, my little sister. I’ve been telling lies for your sake, and they can only stretch so far before they break.’ She glanced at Aileen’s hand. ‘And it’s time for the ring to come off too.’
More tears trickled down Aileen’s cheeks.
A few minutes later they got off the train. The cool, slightly salty air stung Aileen’s face at first, but as they walked to Sweeney Cottage she took deep breaths and talked with Briana of the weather, of the latest lines of food stocked at Cready’s, and of Father Kinross’s latest sermon – anything but where they’d just been and what she’d just been through.