‘Nora told me it’s Beesy’s cousin twice removed,’ explained Niall.
‘Well, I wish some bugger would be so kind as to remove her a bit further!’
Chuckling genuinely now, Niall told him, ‘You’ll be glad to hear we’ll be out of your hair in a few days.’
‘Aw, my brother-in-law’s family can stay as long as they want to! Dominic was a good man, God rest him.’ Talk of relations led Austin to another question. ‘Tell me, and how is your own brother these days?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ tendered Niall. Then at Austin’s bewildered frown added, ‘Surely you heard?’
‘About the unpleasantness?’ Austin nodded. ‘Aye, we did. But sure, that was over a year ago, was it not?’
Niall looked rather sheepish. ‘I haven’t spoken to him since he left. I don’t even know where he is …’
The hooded crow had come to land and now strutted in a nearby furrow, swaggeringly confident that the two men were too involved in their conversation to notice him.
‘You have lived amongst the English for too long,’ censured Austin. ‘A man should let nothing come between he and his brother – especially if he has only the one.’
Niall accepted the criticism. ‘I feel guilty the way I treated him, particularly since I now stand accused of the same crime.’
‘To be sure, you two will make it up. Come on then!’ cried Austin excitedly, as he launched back into his work, arms flashing like whipcord for a few seconds before slowing to a more manageable tempo. ‘Do tell us all about this secret lady friend of yours – how much land would she be having?’
‘None, as far as I know.’ Niall jabbed and sifted with his hoe.
Again Austin stopped, his exclamation almost a shriek. ‘No land – sure what use is she to a man?’
‘She pulls a good pint,’ joked Niall, pausing with him.
‘Ah well, I suppose that’s to her favour,’ acknowledged the old man thoughtfully. ‘But tell me, how does a fellow manage in York with no land to his name?’
Niall gave a careless shrug. ‘We have to rely on the shops.’
‘Aw,’ twouldn’t do for me!’ Austin dashed the back of his calloused hand under his nose to remove a dewdrop. ‘A man should grow his own food if’n he’s able. Ye’ve not even enough to run a few fowl, ye say? The divil!’ He shook his head, dumbfounded. ‘Sure, I’m grateful to know where my eggs be coming from.’
‘Same place as the ones we buy – up a hen’s arse,’ teased Niall, his mood much improved at being able to discuss this with someone who did not condemn him as evil simply for wanting to remarry.
‘There’s nothing much wrong with you now, cracking jokes!’ The old man wagged a dirt-stained finger.
‘I can tell you, Aust, I feel a hell of a lot better for talking to you,’ confirmed Niall.
‘Well, I’m glad I’m useful for something,’ declared Austin.
‘I didn’t know what to do with meself when I came here.’
‘And now ye do?’ quizzed the weather-beaten old face.
Niall looked away again to where his offspring frolicked, a sight that inspired his decision. It was all so simple. All these months he had been considering the wrong people, worrying about what Nora would think of Boadicea, when all the time he should have been asking his children. How could they form an opinion unless they met her? He was not to reply for the moment, for at this point the Angelus tolled, both he and Austin removing their caps, and standing with bowed heads to pray, as did the children, the only creature moving being the crow.
But this time, as the bell resounded it did not condemn, and the moment it fell silent, Niall gave his reply. ‘Aye,’ he told the other, his voice quiet, but its tone resolute, ‘I know exactly what I’m going to do.’
‘The scarlet woman, is it?’ Austin gave a whoop of glee, that sent the hooded crow cawing and flapping into the air. ‘Begod, I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes when Nora do be finding out!’
11
Determined that Nora would not have the chance to interfere again, at least not until he’d had time to consult those more important to his plan, Niall kept his change of heart under wraps. Proceeding as the day before, he drifted quietly and unobtrusively through the rest of his holiday, only allowing his lighter mood to permeate the solemn façade when playing with his children, and at the ceilidh that was thrown to mark his family’s departure. It was obvious by now that everyone had been informed of his affair, for whilst they behaved exactly the same towards him as before, he was viewed with very different eyes, some deeply suspicious and protective of their wives, others holding a quiet admiration, as though they had not known he had such devilment in him.
Encouraged by his participation in the rousing get-together, watching him sing and clap and dance to the fiddle-playing with her kin, Nora congratulated herself on a job well done. She had steered Niall through his trial and safely out the other side; he had finally come to accept where his loyalties lay. Little did she guess that such happiness as he portrayed was not for reason of anyone here, but because he was going home to Boadicea.
Came Saturday, and he was there at last, back in the land of promiscuous bill-stickers and noisy pubs; the squelching acres of bog and green undulations replaced by serried ranks of grimy terraces that served to trap the August heatwave, adding to the claustrophobia; the gentle glow of the peat fire, the fresh air and idle pace, a distant memory. As on their outward journey, they had undergone a gruelling return, having to travel through the night from Ballyhaunis in order to connect at Dublin for the morning ferry. Which was why Nora was most put out that there was no meal waiting when she and Niall finally entered a somewhat dingier-looking living room that evening, their clothes sticking to them, covered in soot and exhausted, with five ravenous and irritable children to placate.
‘Well, I didn’t know what time to do it for!’ Harriet defended her own laziness. ‘I’d offer to cook you something now –’ the fact that she had on her gloves, and was slinging a handbag over her arm, belied this – ‘only Pete’s expecting me.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to do it meself as usual then,’ snapped Nora, ignoring her daughter’s apology, trying also to deafen herself to the pestering whines of her grandchildren. Throwing open a cupboard, and finding little more than the tin of peaches which Mrs Hutchinson had brought months ago – the ones she had sworn never to eat again – she made a sound of disgust.
After a quick glance at the clock, Niall clapped his hands together and gave them a hearty rub, as he cut in, ‘Who fancies fish and chips, to save your granny cooking?’
There were cries from the children of ‘Me! Me!’, Juggy and Brian jumping up and down.
‘Right, wash your hands and set the table, and I’ll be back in a flash!’ And he beat Harriet to the door, and sped off to Walmgate.
Almost ready to go herself, Harriet moved closer to her mother so that the children could not overhear, and spoke from the corner of her mouth. ‘How’s he been behaving himself? Do you want me to follow him?’
Gathering a fistful of cutlery, Nora was aloof as she marched on the table. ‘I thought you were in a hurry to see your fancy man?’
‘Fiancé!’ corrected Harriet, her angular jaw turning sulky. ‘I hope you’re not going to refer to him as that when he comes to meet you tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Oh, we’re finally to be honoured, are we?’ Nora remained sour. ‘Anyway, get yourself gone. The other fella doesn’t need shadowing. He’s learned which side his bread’s buttered – which is more than I can say for some. God help this chap you’re marrying if you can’t even find the ruddy bread bin.’
Harriet gave a click of her tongue. ‘You won’t let me forget it, will you!’ And she flounced out, calling a cheery goodbye to the children as she went.
Luckily for Niall, his sister-in-law was too intent on making her appointment to waste time investigating the fish and chip shop as she hurried along Walmgate, for she would not have seen him th
ere.
Instead, he had cantered straight past, and across the road, for to his delight he had spotted his favourite barmaid making her way to work.
‘Bo!’
She wheeled at the sound of his voice, her face breaking into one huge grin of delight, and her arms opening to envelop him as he arrived, as naturally as if they were wed. Not caring that anyone might see them, Niall swept her up and buried his face in her neck, lifting it only to plaster her cheek with kisses, then swinging her off her feet, such was his ecstasy at seeing her.
She laughed, almost tearfully, her eyes reflecting his happiness. ‘Oh, Niall, I had an awful feeling I’d never see you again!’
‘Well, you have, and you will! I’m never going to be parted from you again.’ Unwilling to release her, he dealt her one last hearty kiss and a final squeeze, then drew her away from the curious stares of passers-by into the darkness of a covered alleyway, here to kiss and embrace more intimately. ‘We’ve just this minute got back, but I had to come.’ His breath was hot in her ear. ‘It’s been murder …’
‘Ye didn’t care for the old country then?’ Her muffled jest emerged from his neck, to which her mouth was pressed.
‘I’ve never looked forward so much to leaving it.’ His voice was low and gentle as he dabbed her head with kisses.
‘If I didn’t know already, I could tell you’d been to Ireland,’ murmured Boadicea, her cheek still pressed to the crook of his shoulder.
‘How?’ asked Niall, with a tender kiss, though was more concerned with the feel of her.
‘The scent of the peat is woven into your clothes.’ She lifted her face and smiled.
Feeling himself become too aroused, he unlocked one of his arms from around her, and took a sniff of his cuff, inhaling the lingering scent of Beesy’s cottage, before nodding in recognition. Then, he took hold of her hand as a prelude to his explanation.
Gripping her fingers, and speaking with his face close to hers, briefly he gave account of the situation that had sent him to Ireland, about Harriet seeing them together a fortnight ago, and Nora’s emotional blackmail.
‘Sure I knew something was up,’ she murmured thoughtfully, ‘from the look on your face the last time I saw ye. It nearly was the last time, wasn’t it?’
He displayed anguish. ‘Only because I was worried about what I was doing to the kids. That’s the only reason I let myself be persuaded to go.’ He continued to grip her hand, and shook it to inject her with belief. ‘But the moment I was there, I knew I’d made a big mistake, that I couldn’t live without you, that I’d do anything to have you back, even if it meant upsetting my kids – but then, how could they be upset if they’ve never even met you? So, I’ve decided,’ he dealt her hand a pat, ‘they are going to meet you, and I know they’re going to love you just as much as I do.’
‘Ye can’t be certain of that, Niall.’ After the prior look of shock at the thought of being presented to his children, a film of worry had drawn across her eyes.
Again he patted her hand. ‘Well, it doesn’t really matter if they do or not, because I love you, so they’ll just have to put up with that. I’ve got to live my own life, Bo. I’m sick of creeping around for fear of upsetting folk. That’s why I’m going to put everything on a firm footing, fetch them to meet their new mother—’
Still worried, she bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Begod, you’re like a whirlwind.’
He denied her implication that he was moving too quickly. ‘It’s not going to happen for a fortnight – that’s when Harriet’s wedding is, and I want to get that out of the way first. For one thing, I don’t want to spoil her day – that’d be a rotten trick – and for another, the lasses are that looking forward to wearing their bridesmaids’ dresses. I daren’t do anything that’s going to upset the apple cart – I can’t even promise to call in on my way home from work, not now they know where you live. They wouldn’t think twice about upsetting the Preciouses. So …’ he beheld her with earnest expression, his eyes full of love as he gripped her hand, ‘if you can wait a little bit longer before seeing me again, it’ll all be worth it in the end.’
Boadicea nodded.
‘You can?’ He pretended hurt. ‘I’m not sure I can. It feels I’ve already spent a year away from you, not just a week.’ And he let go of her hand, to embrace her long and tightly, as if to boost himself for the sacrifice ahead.
Almost at once, though, he was forced to tell her, ‘I’ll have to dash in case the Vir—’ he broke off, and began to shake with laughter. ‘I meant to say “in case the Merchant of Venice sees us and demands her pound of flesh”, meaning Harriet, and it nearly came out the Virgin of Menace – but that fits her to a T!’ His laughter infecting his companion, they shook for mirthful seconds, tears coming to their eyes. ‘It was only a slap she gave me last time, but she’s sure to extract the full pound if she catches us again. I dread to think where she’d take it from.’ Still grinning, he wiped his eyes. ‘And I’m only supposed to be out for fish and chips.’
Boadicea drew away with loud grievance. ‘Sure, is that all I’m up against, feeding your belly? Get along out o’ here!’
But he knew her well enough now not to take offence, and, with eyes that twinkled like her own, he gave her a last passionate kiss before both finally tore themselves away.
‘Is it back at work on Monday?’ asked Boadicea, receiving a nod. ‘Oh, I almost forgot!’ She put out a hand to stop him going. ‘Did ye see in the paper, they managed to shoot that wolf o’ yours?’
For a second his smile waned and he gave a little sound of disappointment. But then he was philosophical. ‘Oh well, I suppose it had to cop it some time. Right, I’d better get off before I get meself shot. Don’t sit anywhere near me at Mass tomorrow!’ He threw a warning grin as he made across the road. ‘Nora’ll have her eyes peeled for any false move, so you’ll have to forgive me if I ignore you. We don’t want to make trouble for ourselves before we have to. I’ll be seeing you, soon as I can!’ And blowing her a kiss, his face wreathed in delight from this brief reunion, he departed.
Back at work on Monday, his disappointment over the slaying of the wolf in his absence was quickly to be assuaged. It was true, his mates informed him, the creature had been shot, for a trail of its blood had been found in its wake. But no one had found a body. And as livestock was still being terrorised, they must assume that the hunter’s gun had not inflicted a mortal wound and the wolf was still at large. Back to its old tricks maybe, but wise to all its pursuers’ techniques, never again did Niall see the wolf in daylight.
But then he was hardly to miss it, with such momentous issues on his mind. Less than forty- eight hours had gone by since he’d lain eyes on his loved one – for, aware of Nora’s observation, he had not even been able to look at Boadicea in church – but no one could stop him thinking of her. He couldn’t have stopped thinking of her if he’d tried. Being stuck in the house yesterday had felt like prison, although in the afternoon there had been an amusing diversion when Harriet brought her fiancé, Pete, to be introduced to his prospective mother-in-law. Presented with a spivvy-looking, bumptious type, whom one might have expected as Harriet’s choice of partner, Niall had wasted no sympathy on him but took great pleasure in watching the fellow’s confidence shrivel under Nora’s eagle eye, and the expression on his face as he wondered what he had got himself into. Was the groom still looking forward quite so much to his wedding? Niall himself was looking forward to it immensely, for it would mark a new beginning for him too. But until then, the days were simply crawling by.
Finally, though, the big event did arrive, and with it, Dolly – which was a somewhat embarrassing encounter for both her and Niall. Luckily, they did not have to be together long, for he was ordered to visit the barber, thenceforth to stay out of the women’s way whilst the bride and her maids of honour got themselves ready.
Apart from Harriet’s friends and workmates, her other sisters and their husbands, another forty of the Beasty clan t
urned up, though none from Ireland, the latter being unable to make the journey. However, Beesy and Austin’s sons, who lived in Leeds, came with their families to represent their parents, and Beesy did send generous gifts in their stead.
‘I wonder how much she paid for it?’ Bedecked in white gown, the others gone ahead to church and only she and Niall left in the house, Harriet inspected Beesy’s linen, comparing it favourably to some of the other gifts that had been laid out for display. ‘A lot more than Mrs Lavelle, that’s for sure. Those tea towels couldn’t have cost more than a tanner each. They’ll be threadbare before I’ve been wed a month.’ Tutting, she turned back to Niall. ‘Come here, then, let’s have a look at you before we set off, check you’re up to standard.’
With no father or brother to give her away, she had bestowed this honour on Niall, who now stood under inspection.
‘One and six,’ he told her with straight face as she cast her critical eye over him.
‘What?’ she frowned.
‘You were looking at me new tie. That’s what I paid for it – just in case you were going to ask.’
Seeing he had a twinkle in his eye, she smacked him playfully. ‘Well, I’m glad you paid a lot more than that for my present!’ She indicated the carving knife and fork with antler handles. ‘No, they’re smashing, those; they’ll last for years.’
Niall had the decency to blush, and felt a twinge of guilt over what was to happen once Harriet was safely away on honeymoon. That was the only reason he had bought her such a decent gift.
His sister-in-law’s flippancy belied her wedding- day nerves. After a last critical inspection of her floral headdress and veil in the mirror, Harriet turned back to him, asking anxiously, ‘Do I look all right?’
‘You look smashing,’ came his gallant assurance.
For once, Harriet bestowed a genuine smile, and her eyes misted over. ‘Thanks, Nye, and thanks for the present, and for giving me away …’
Secrets of Our Hearts Page 23