Secrets of Our Hearts

by Sheelagh Kelly

  6

  Could anything ever come of this? Niall did not know. But for now he was glowingly content to sit beside her in the darkness of the Picture House, praying that his good behaviour would eventually lead to more. Braced with an excuse for those at home, he had been amazed at how easily they had accepted this second outing, had expected them to tease him over coming here alone, or at least to question; but they hadn’t. If anything, they seemed pleased at his abrupt abandonment of the public house. That was all well and good, but, having allotted himself this one night out per week, Niall could not now turn round and say he was off for a drink, which meant that from now on he would only see Boadicea once every seven days, which in turn meant he had to make the most of her company whilst he had it.

  And make the most of it he had, on the way to the cinema asking her questions about herself, never too intrusive or personal, merely enquiring about her likes and dislikes so that he might better please her if she consented to come out with him again.

  He might not dare to ask personal questions, but Boadicea supplied the answers all the same, telling him much more about the place she had lived before coming to York, the various jobs she had had since arriving in England and the towns she had inhabited, rattling out so much information in that talkative manner of hers that he could never hope to remember it all. It had been almost a disappointment to reach the cinema; he would much rather have watched and listened to her than the film.

  Still, it was wonderful to be seated here so tantalisingly close to her, the episode marred only by an awful grating noise from the woman nearby, who seemed determined to suck every last dreg of melted ice cream from its cardboard container, this causing much amusement to Boadicea.

  Later, as they drifted through the foyer along with the other filmgoers, Niall noticed that some of them were now heading for the café above the Picture House. Not wanting the night to end, he asked impulsively, ‘Do you fancy some supper?’

  ‘Not one for self-denial, are ye, Niall?’ But her eyes were bright. ‘Neither am I – and sure, isn’t Lent almost over?’

  And with her smiling nod of approval, he escorted her up the staircase, adding, ‘Let’s hope that woman with the ice cream doesn’t follow us in. She might start licking the plates.’

  Boadicea chuckled. ‘Yes, that’s the only disadvantage of coming to a cinema: you have to put up with all that slurping and crunching. Not to mention some of the mucky pups ye get sitting next to ye. I’ve often gone home with more than I bargained for.’ She pretended to scratch at vermin.

  Having been shown to a table, and both having chosen from the menu, Niall mused with a thought as to their previous discussion. ‘What we need is that television thing they’ve been on about in the papers. Wouldn’t it be grand to have your own personal screen in your living room?’

  ‘Aye, but then ye’d never have to leave the house except to work,’ pointed out his companion. ‘A bit boring, don’t ye think? Besides, I doubt the likes of me will be able to afford it.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Niall smiled at her fondly. ‘Not with five kids.’

  This served to elevate Boadicea’s eyebrows, not for the amount of children, which was a normal enough number for any Irish family, but the fact of the widower having to cope alone. She sought to reassure him. ‘Well, don’t worry, I’ll be paying for the meal.’

  ‘Nay, you won’t!’ He looked mildly offended, not least because the waitress had just come back to supply the glasses of water he had requested. ‘I wasn’t hinting, for heaven’s sake.’

  Boadicea said hurriedly for the benefit of the waitress, ‘Oh, I know you weren’t, but—’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of asking a woman for money,’ Niall cut her off. ‘I was the one who invited you out.’

  ‘Yes, but it isn’t that sort of outing,’ she reminded him as the waitress left. ‘When I come out with friends I usually expect to pay my own way. You paid for the pictures, I’ll pay for the meal.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  Examining his face, she saw that he might feel insulted if she took out her purse in front of others, and so told him, ‘Well, we’ll settle up later.’

  ‘No, we won’t.’ Niall remained firm.

  ‘You’re making it very difficult for me to come out with you again if you insist on paying every time,’ she objected.

  ‘It’s hardly worth arguing over coppers, is it?’ he pointed out with an air of finality.

  ‘I should think it is when you’ve five children depending on ye.’ Nevertheless, Boadicea used this subject to deflect further argument. Like Niall she had thus far refrained from being invasive, not even asking how many children he had, though now that he had made reference to his family, she did initiate gentle query. ‘And who’s looking after them, might I ask, whilst you’re out enjoying yourself?’

  ‘My mother-in-law. She looks after all of us.’

  ‘Would I know her?’

  Niall provided Nora’s name.

  His companion blurted laughter. ‘No, I think I would’ve remembered if I’d met someone called Mrs Beasty! Ah, look, I’m not one to be poking fun at someone’s name – I’m sure she’s very nice.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ grimaced Niall, imagining what Nora would say if she knew of his female companion. ‘She can be a beasty by nature too, sometimes. But she’s grand with the kids.’

  ‘And what’re they called? How old are they?’

  He tweaked absent-mindedly at the tablecloth as he listed them. ‘Dominic’s eleven, he’s named after Nora’s husband—’

  ‘Not after your father then?’ she chipped in. ‘I’d have taken you to be the traditional kind.’

  ‘Aye, well, maybe I would if I’d had any say.’ Niall looked rueful before going on, ‘Honora’s thirteen this summer, she’s named after her granny, of course,’ another regretful smile, ‘Judith – Juggy – after me mam, she’s six, nearly seven; then there’s Bartholomew, after my father, he’s nearly six, and Brian’s the babby, he’s three.’

  Boadicea nodded, then was silent for a time. He wondered what she might be thinking. But she didn’t enlighten him. In fact it was left to Niall to proceed with the dialogue, turning his attention to the cruet as he did so, correcting the position of the salt and pepper pots that were out of line. ‘Two of Nora’s daughters live with us as well.’ He grinned. ‘Sounds as if I have a right big house, what with nine people living in it, but it’s just a two up, two down.’

  ‘And here’s me thinking I’d latched on to a millionaire,’ said Boadicea drily. ‘In God’s name, where do you manage to stow them all?’

  ‘Nora sleeps downstairs, and I built a partition wall in the back bedroom.’

  She watched his workmanlike fingers tinkering with the condiments. ‘That’s a very handy man you are, Mr Doran. Just as well. Why, there’re more people in your house than in Mrs Precious’s.’

  ‘Is that your landlady?’ asked Niall.

  She nodded, then glanced around to gauge when they might expect their meal. ‘And she’ll be locking me out, if I’m not careful.’

  ‘Strict is she?’

  ‘Strict? As a sergeant major! If I break the curfew it’ll be six circuits of the parade ground for me, and peeling spuds for a week.’ She emitted a gay laugh. ‘Ah, not really – but she worries if we’re out too late. Oh drat, is that rain on the window? I knew I should’ve brought my brolly. My hair detests this weather. It’ll be all frizzy by the time I get home.’

  ‘Will you have to put them curler things in it?’

  Her blue eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘God, no!’ Tis bad enough as it is. I’d be like Harpo Marx if I used those. No, I shall just have to get Mrs Precious to run it under the iron for me.’

  Niall almost choked on his glass of water. ‘D’you mean a proper iron – what you use on shirts?’ At her smiling nod he laughed more heartily.

  She chuckled affectionately with him. ‘It’s the only thing that keeps it under
control.’

  ‘Well, make sure you don’t flatten all them lovely waves,’ he warned.

  ‘You like them, do you? All completely natural.’ She affected to preen them with her fingers, then wrinkled her nose to show she was joking. ‘Well, actually I do have to enhance them a little by the time I’ve finished smoothing the rest of it out.’

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me!’ Niall exclaimed with an amused groan. ‘You use them big metal things with the crocodile jaws!’

  She gave a surprised exclamation. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘’Cause I once got attacked with one of ’em, that’s how – nearly took me blasted nose off.’ He rushed to explain this bizarre situation. ‘Ellen thought it were funny to stick it on whilst I was napping, good grief did it hurt!’ He shook his head at the memory, becoming suddenly reflective. ‘Row upon row of them she used to put in – so did her sisters. Bloomin’ heck, when they’d all washed their hair it was like an armoured division in our house.’

  ‘Was Ellen your wife?’ Boadicea’s voice was softer now.

  He nodded, wondering what had made him refer to her by name. Suddenly guilty at being here, he glanced around for people who might know him. When a thoughtful Boadicea opened her mouth to pose another question, he feared it would be, do you miss her? But instead she asked, ‘Was she born here like yourself?’

  ‘Aye, but her lot came over much later than mine. She still has family over there – her dad’s side. They’re farmers.’

  ‘And what about yourself?’

  ‘No, any relatives I might have had are long gone. They all came over here.’

  She nodded thoughtfully, then laughed. ‘’Sfunny, isn’t it? Here’s me with my oh-so-English name and an Irish accent, and you with not a drop of English blood and looking every scrap the Irishman, sounding as local as a Yorkshire pudding – no offence!’

  For once he took no insult, agreeing that life was odd.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve any reason to go back then?’ she hazarded.

  ‘Not to where my lot come from, but we’ve been to stay with Ellen’s mob once or twice.’ In the past, the family had been lucky enough to spend the occasional summer on the relatives’ farm in Mayo. He went there now in his head.

  ‘And where is this farm?’ Boadicea enquired casually.

  Niall gave a lopsided grin. ‘Well, they call it a farm; it’s actually a cottage and two fields. It’s near Ballyhaunis.’ He asked if she knew the town.

  Her expression turned vague, and she appeared less relaxed, for she began to fidget. ‘I went there once, but our place was miles away, almost into Sligo. Is it just my imagination or have we been sitting here half an hour?’ She snatched a look at her wristwatch.

  Niall looked initially stunned at how quickly the time had gone, then annoyed that they seemed to have been forgotten. Glancing around at others who were being served, he murmured to Boadicea, ‘Didn’t those people come in after us?’

  She gave an anxious nod. ‘If it doesn’t come in a minute I’m afraid I’ll have to go – sorry.’

  He showed dismay at the prospect of his wonderful evening being cut short due to this lack of service. ‘I’ll go and – oh, hang on, this must be ours she’s bringing now.’ The waitress was heading towards them, two plates in hand. ‘About time.’ But as Niall expectantly fingered his cutlery, the girl sailed past.

  ‘Excuse me, miss!’ He tried to attract her attention, but his voice was too soft, and he was forced to turn to Boadicea with a foolish smile that covered deeper annoyance. ‘I’ll try again when she comes back.’ However, his manufactured patience was to fade, for on her way back the waitress looked set to ignore him again. ‘Excuse me! Can you tell me when we’ll get attended to?’

  She turned with a harassed expression. ‘We’re very busy—’

  ‘I can see that.’ Niall did not care for the way she was regarding him as a nuisance, and held her responsible for robbing him of Boadicea’s company. ‘But we’ve been here half an hour, and you’ve just served some people who came in after us.’

  The waitress frowned. ‘Oh, have I …?’

  ‘Yes, you have!’ he said stiffly. ‘So, I’d be obliged if you’d fetch what we ordered.’

  Looking fraught, she riffled the pages of her notepad. ‘What did you order?’

  ‘Fish, chips and peas!’

  ‘Ah, that’s what I just gave them. Hang on, I’ll go and check.’ And before he could say anything she rushed away to the kitchen.

  ‘Not to worry,’ Boadicea tried to laugh away the situation. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long.’

  ‘Better not be,’ said Niall ominously, drumming his fingers on the table. Then, lest she get the idea that he was holding her to blame for having to leave, he added genuinely, ‘I’m really sorry about this …’

  There followed more waiting, during which Boadicea tried to uphold a leisurely conversation in order to keep the situation calm, for it had become obvious that Niall was simmering with annoyance.

  Eventually the waitress returned. ‘There’s been some mix-up with the orders. Would you like to give me it again?’

  Niall slammed his palms on the table. ‘Right, that’s it!’

  ‘Let’s just leave …’ Boadicea began to rise, for other diners were now craning their necks to see what the fuss was about.

  ‘No!’ He motioned for her to sit down. ‘Why should we, when we were here first? Fetch the manager!’

  The waitress scurried away, leaving Niall to fume and Boadicea to grow increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Really, Niall, I’d rather—’

  ‘Look, he’s here now!’ Desperate to impede her premature departure, Niall sprang to his feet as the manager appeared.

  ‘May I be of assistance, sir?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit late for that! You should have been here half an hour ago, making sure your staff were doing their job instead of ignoring us as if we don’t exist!’

  ‘Sir, I appreciate your annoyance, and I apologise sincerely if you feel that our service was less than perfect—’

  ‘Perfect? It’s non-existent!’

  ‘Then I apologise again,’ continued the manager in a deferential tone. ‘And may I invite you to select anything from our menu in recompense, free and gratis?’

  Niall shot a beseeching glance at Boadicea, who told him reluctantly, ‘I’m sorry, Niall, I can’t wait. I’ll really have to go—’

  ‘So, my guest has to go home hungry because of you!’ Niall vented his frustration on the manager.

  ‘Maybe sir would care to take up our offer on another night?’

  ‘You think I’d come back here? No, you can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!’

  ‘As sir pleases.’

  Fully wound up and further incensed at the calm demeanour, Niall leaned his face towards that of the manager. ‘You couldn’t care less that you’ve ruined our evening, could you? You jumped-up—’

  ‘Sir, I have tried to make amends!’ The man backed away. ‘But if you continue to be abusive I shall have no recourse but to send for the police.’

  At this, a look of shock flashed across Boadicea’s face. She was out of her chair and down the stairs before her partner had the chance to utter another insult.

  Equally jolted, not by the manager’s threat but by Boadicea’s action, Niall rushed after her. She was out in the street by the time he was able to catch up and hurry through the darkness alongside her, both of them dodging people along the way, but before he could offer regret, she cast harsh aspersion.

  ‘Do you always make such a damned fuss when you can’t get your own way?’

  Despite it being evident from her crimson face that he had caused her deep humiliation, Niall was still wound up, and transferred his annoyance to her, upset that she didn’t see the matter the way he did. ‘So you’d just have sat there and let them ignore us, would you? If there’s one thing I hate it’s bad service and rudeness—’

  ‘Maybe!’ snapped Boadicea from the side of her
mouth. ‘But she was run off her feet. I know what that’s like!’

  ‘If she’d apologised straightaway I might have forgiven it,’ retorted Niall, striding along to keep pace with her, ‘but I wasn’t about to let her get away with treating me like that, and certainly not my guest!’

  ‘It still hardly warranted almost getting yourself arrested. For God’s sake, I thought I’d come out to enjoy myself!’ Boadicea was as angry as he now. ‘If that’s the way it’s going to be I don’t think I’ll bother in future!’

  Her legs moving like pistons along the dark and greasy cobblestones, weaving their way around happier couples who sauntered too leisurely for Boadicea’s liking, she attempted to put a space between herself and Niall, prancing towards home, determination on her face.

  His anger transformed to horror that he was going to lose her, Niall lengthened his gait to keep abreast. ‘Wait, Bo, wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I only wanted it to be special, and when it wasn’t I was just that mad!’

  ‘That’s your problem, Niall!’ Boadicea’s heels clickety-clicked across Parliament Street, one of the few wide expanses in York, moving her way between the ranks of empty market stalls that ran the length of it. ‘You fly off the handle far too easily!’

  ‘Only when it’s important!’ Niall slithered on a wet cabbage leaf, wanted to swear but quickly righted himself. ‘I’m sorry! I promise I’ll tone it down for next time.’

  She gave a bitter laugh. ‘You think I want there to be a next time?’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that!’ He grabbed her arm.

  ‘Let go, damn ye!’ She stopped dead and tried to shake him off, her teeth bared at this hindrance, her eyes impaling Niall with so fierce a look of determination that he immediately released her.

  But he injected his words with such conviction that she would surely have to listen, ‘I’m sorry, Bo, I’m that stupid, it’s just that I really like you – I mean really.’

  ‘Look!’ Her eyes were wide and glistening with exasperation. ‘I made it plain that I was just going out with you as a friend – well, my friends don’t embarrass me like that, Niall. It’s very clear to me that you’re taking this far too seriously, that you’re intent on making more of this than I’m willing to give. So let’s just call it a day.’