‘Don’t get in people’s way!’ ordered the boys’ father, then shook his head with a weary smile at Boadicea. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re amused. I thought you might never speak to me again after meeting that lot – oh Christ, he’s nearly caught that old chap round the whatsit. Right, put them sticks down now, or I’ll take them to thrash you with!’
This appeared to make his partner even more amused, for she broke into chuckles. ‘Oh, Niall, ye make yourself sound like the biggest thug, when those children have you eating out of their hands!’
‘What?’ Niall gasped, but played along. ‘I’ll have you know it’s a good job you were here, or they’d be flayed alive!’
They eventually reached the iron gates of the park, some twenty minutes after leaving the Preciouses. Behind the avenue of large trees that juxtaposed the river lay over forty acres of ornamental gardens, set out in a maze of pathways that meandered through separate areas of recreation. Each section was enclosed by a neatly clipped hedge, one housing an ornamental pond, another a fragrant mosaic of flowers and benches from which to admire them, another just a statue or a sundial, but all of these leading to a lake.
Released from their father’s control, the children thundered down the path bordered by shrubs, racing, their laughing efforts drowning out the sedate tap of wood on wood from the bowling greens. Keeping an eye on the youngsters careering ahead, Niall and Boadicea proceeded in leisurely fashion towards the half-timbered dovecote at the far side of the park.
‘Don’t go too fas— oh too late!’ Niall groaned, as Brian tipped headlong and a wail pierced the air. He went hurrying up to set the little boy on his feet, saying briskly, ‘You’re all right, no need to cry, it’s nobbut a scratch.’ But Brian thought there was reason to cry, and let go at full pitch.
Boadicea hung back at first, agitated by the piercing screams, yet reluctant to interfere between father and child. Then, moved by the little one’s distress, she took a quick step forward. ‘Here, let me.’ And with a lick of her handkerchief and a series of gentle dabs at the scuffed knee to remove the beads of blood, Brian was soon up and running full tilt through the dovecote and towards the small bridge that crossed the lake.
Niall alerted Honor, who, fortunately caught the lad in time to prevent an accident, and held his hand at the water’s edge to watch the swans until her father caught up, thenceforth to give them some of the bread Juggy had brought. The moment a crumb had hit the brown water, squadrons of ducks appeared from all sides of the lake, surging forth and leaving wide ripples as they converged on the bread-throwers. And for a while, the man and the woman were to stand there, inhaling the earthy, slightly fishy aroma of the lake, each providing a safe pair of arms to some of the smaller figures, who might have thrown themselves in along with the bread.
Soon, though, the boys began to clamour for the playground, but were overruled by their father who warned, ‘I don’t want you scrowin’ round in t’muck or your gran’ll kill me.’
‘Scrowin’ round in t’muck?’ mimicked Boadicea, hoping the children would be amused, which they were. ‘Sure what sort of talk is that?’
‘It’s York talk!’ Niall pretended to cuff her, which also brought laughter to his children’s faces – even Dominic’s – this in turn sending a flood of happiness through their father’s veins. It was going to be all right. They liked her.
Despite her elder brother’s entreaties to hurry up, Juggy was still carefully dividing her bread into tiny, equal portions. ‘We’ve got to keep some for the bunnies!’
Niall informed Boadicea that across the other side of the park were large cages, in which was a varied collection of rabbits and whatsits.
‘Whatsits?’ Boadicea cocked her head at the children. ‘Sure, that’s a funny kind o’ name for a creature.’
Niall recalled the name he had been seeking. ‘Golden pheasants, I meant.’ He dealt her a scolding grin – then suddenly remembered he was carrying his camera. ‘Tell you what, though! Before we go there or anywhere else, let’s take some photos while this lot still look half decent.’
Arranging them all in a group, with the dovecote in the background, and a cluster of its cooing residents atop its tiled roof as a bonus, he took a couple of snaps. Yet there was still available film on the camera, so, to his two elder sons’ disgruntlement, Niall led the search for another suitable background, Dominic and Batty dragging their feet behind.
‘This would be good!’ Finding a hedged enclosure free of others, at least for the moment, Boadicea pointed to its ornamental pond, and gathered the children to her. ‘Should we stand in front or behind?’
‘If you all sit on the edge,’ instructed Niall, ‘I can get the fountain in behind you.’
And so they did, lining up to perch on the low wall containing the pond, on which also sat a collection of stone fish, each of the latter aiming a spout of water at the bronze statue of Mercury in the centre.
‘Aw, can’t we go to t’swings now, Dad?’ demanded a bored Dominic, when his father had taken two photos, and seemed intent on dallying over another.
‘Go on then!’ permitted Niall, lowering the camera with a sigh of submission.
‘We’ve got to feed the rabbits yet,’ put in Juggy, but two of the boys had already run ahead.
‘Don’t worry!’ sighed Niall, at her crestfallen expression. ‘We’ll get to see t’rabbits before we leave. Honey, you go with them to the playground. I’ve just got a couple of snaps left to take; we’ll catch you up later.’ And as Honor and the rest of his children galloped off, he murmured to Boadicea, ‘I want to get one of you on your own, so I can keep it in me pocket.’
‘Then I’ll take one of you,’ she said eagerly.
‘Nay, you don’t want one of my ugly mug!’
‘I won’t argue that you’re ugly,’ her expression was prim, ‘but if you can have one of me, I can have one of you!’ Eyes flickering, she returned to the pond and took up a pose on its wall, gathering her dress in case it trailed in the water, and arranging it so as to display her knees in their suntan stockings. Then deciding this made them look too fat, she quickly changed her position, legs stretched out and ankles crossed.
Grasping his camera at waist level, Niall squinted down into its viewfinder, using a hand to shield it from the sun, shuffling back and forth so many times that his model was forced to complain.
‘Did ye know these fish were once real?’ she asked brightly, patting the stone scales of the ornament on the wall beside her. ‘They were just made to wait so long for somebody to take their photograph that they got bored stiff.’
‘Don’t make me laugh!’ he shushed her, still trying to get a decent snap. ‘It’ll be all blurred …’
‘There’ll be people coming by in a minute! Sure, I’m not sitting here like a drip all day!’
Nipping his tongue between his teeth, Niall finally gave the order for her to keep still, and – ‘Got it!’
Hearing the shutter click, Boadicea leaped up laughing, ‘Thank God!’ And she grabbed the camera off him, determined to do a better job.
Finally the roll of film was used, which was just as well, for some people did come by, inducing Niall and Boadicea to move on. Smiling and contented, Niall hooked the camera strap back over his neck, and, saying the children would be all right for a while with Honor, he took hold of Boadicea’s hand. Tucking it under his arm, he proceeded to lead her on a gentle saunter around the gardens, through rose pergolas, around the lake, and towards the bandstand.
The discordant tones of brass instruments told that the afternoon concert was due to begin, and quite soon it did, a lively march causing Niall to act against his normal reserved nature and bob up and down alongside his companion.
‘It must be a law of nature,’ he told her, both of them smiling broadly. ‘The minute you hear an oompah you have to walk in time to it.’
They paused for only a while at the bandstand, though, for Niall said they had better check that the children were where they we
re supposed to be. ‘Ellen’ll never forgive me if—’ he broke off, with an embarrassed look at Boadicea. ‘Sorry …’
‘You are allowed to mention your wife, Niall,’ she told him kindly, patting his arm and speaking over the noise of the band.
Feeling wretched, he wanted to explain, but walked on for a while, waiting until it was no longer necessary to compete with the band. ‘It’s just that she was always so protective of the kids,’ he finally told Boadicea as they strolled amongst the perfumed rose beds.
She sighed. ‘’Tis a big hole she’s left. You can’t help missing her.’
Steeped in even more guilt now, Niall felt it was time to confess. ‘Well, that’s just it … I don’t. I’ve never been happier in my life than I am with you.’
Boadicea did not answer, but allowed her eyes to respond for her, her fair lashes slowly descending and then opening again to convey harmony.
‘But sometimes it feels like she’s still there,’ he murmured. ‘I suppose it’s all the reminders – not just the kids, but having her mother living with me … I’m dreading what Nora’s going to do when she hears I’ve brought them to meet you. Probably stop my pocket money, for a start.’ He managed a weak smile. ‘I dare say she’ll start mentioning Ellen’s name in every sentence just to make me feel guilty …’
‘Well, there’s no reason for you to feel guilty at mentioning her in my presence,’ vowed Boadicea.
‘There is, though.’ Niall hung his head, and primed himself for an adverse response. ‘I wished it upon her, that accident – well, not wished,’ he said quickly, at Boadicea’s horrified frown, ‘but imagined, imagined what my life’d be like if she wasn’t in it. All the years of nagging – not just from her, that wouldn’t have been so bad, I could’ve coped with that, but there were four of them constantly at me – her mother and sisters – you’ve no idea what it’s like to be a man in a houseful of women – not to mention when they had a get-together with the rest of her sisters, all treating me like I was some sort of pathetic …’ Inferring from her knitted brow that his explanation was less than coherent, his voice trailed away.
But after deep cogitation, it returned. ‘I suppose I am bloody pathetic. What bloke would stand by – no, not stand by, join in, while his brother gets robbed of all his furniture and virtually evicted from his home?’ He looked sick with self-reproach, all this whilst others went about their recreation all around them, the thwack of tennis rackets from the courts, the happy squeals of children …
‘This is the brother ye don’t see any more?’ Since last mentioning the subject, Boadicea had not questioned Niall again, the very mention of his sibling having obviously struck a nerve. Now she understood why.
He dealt her a glum nod as they stepped around a half-eaten ice-cream cornet, dropped by some unfortunate child, and now melting on the path. ‘I’ve no idea where he went. I feel awful … all the things I said to him about him not waiting till his wife was cold before finding somebody else … and she looked a really nice lass, the one he took up with, but I were that rotten to them both.’ He glanced at his companion, his words heartfelt. ‘He asked me to put meself in his shoes. I couldn’t associate with such behaviour then, thought I was above it. I know how he feels now. By God I do.’
She interjected with a loving pat, but allowed him to continue, strolling quietly by his side.
‘Me poor mam’d be that ashamed of me …’
‘We all do things we’re ashamed of, Nye.’
‘Aye, but to wish your wife dead!’ His face crumpled in self-disgust, and he took a few more thoughtful paces before speaking again. ‘I hadn’t intended to tell you any of this when I came out. I were just looking forward to a nice time with you and my kids – I was having a lovely time, watching how well you got on with them, and them with you. But I think that’s what set me off. I thought, how can I keep this to meself, when you’ve been so open with me? I had to let you know what I’m really like …’
‘I already know what you’re really like, Nye,’ she reassured him softly. ‘I won’t think any the worse of you, and I take it as a compliment that you feel able to trust me with your secrets. You think you’re the only one who has such awful thoughts? Well, I can tell ye, you’re not. When I was first with Eddie—’
He flinched at the first use of her husband’s name, but she didn’t seem to notice.
‘—I used to be that anxious whenever he was out later than usual, wondering if he’d had an accident, imagining him lying in the hospital … everybody does that, I should think. But when things started to go wrong between us, I took to using that same thought in a different way, employing it as a yardstick, as it were, to measure my feelings for him, wondering, would I feel as heartbroken as in the old days if he didn’t come home? Well, he eventually didn’t come home, not because of any accident, but presumably because he didn’t want to. I guess he’d had the same kind of thoughts about me.’ A corner of her lips turned up in self-disparagement. ‘So don’t go tearing yourself apart that it’s only you who thinks that way.’
Niall gave a respectful murmur on her honesty, and took another few unhurried paces, before admitting, ‘I did feel sad when she went. I didn’t think I would, but I did.’
‘So did I, when he left,’ murmured Boadicea. Then, finding that with this dispiriting conversation her shoulders had begun to sag in the butterfly-coloured dress, she brought herself suddenly erect and enlivened her pace. ‘But I’m not any more so come on now, cheer up and let’s go see what the kids’re doing!’
Finding his offspring still enjoying the swings and seesaws, and reluctant to leave, Niall and Boadicea looked around for a bench on which they might sit and wait, but all were taken. So he led her to a large expanse of grass nearby, there to spread the jacket of his suit for her to sit upon.
‘Can we just put it under there?’ Boadicea redirected him into the shade of some trees. ‘Else my face will look like a Swan Vesta by the time I go home.’
Across the park, the band struck up another number, though it interfered little in their conversation now, as they sat beneath the green canopy watching Honor trying to keep the others in order whilst they awaited their turn on the slide, the boys play-fighting and tumbling about on the grass, barging into others in the queue.
Niall took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of crushed grass. ‘What do you think of them then? Do they come up to scratch?’
‘They’re horrible little divils.’ Then she laughed, and added warmly, ‘Ah sure, they’re a grand bunch – as they would be with you for a dad.’
He was gratified that she liked them, but, ‘Apparently, I’m no such great shakes as a father.’ And he related what Nora had told him before the trip to Ireland, about each child’s problem, whilst Boadicea listened in sympathy. ‘I gave Dominic a stern talking-to about smoking, and he’s managed to cut it down to sixty a day.’ He threw her a smile. ‘No, I think I managed to put the fear of God into him. Batty’ll never alter. He’s always been a light-fingered little devil; it’s nowt to do with losing his mother. As for Juggy and Brian, poor little buggers …’ he shook his head, ‘the only thing wrong with them is that they’re missing their mam.’ Thankfully, the bed wetting seemed to be over with, he added. Then he became cheerful again. ‘Anyhow, I’m glad they behaved themselves for you, and they seem to like you – not that it would matter.’
‘Of course it matters,’ she corrected him.
‘No, I meant it wouldn’t change the way I feel about you. It just makes it a lot easier if they like the woman I’m going to marry.’
Boadicea made a sound of impatience. ‘Niall, you know the situation …’ Her spirits slightly flagging again, she slid her fingers across the grassy space between them, gripped his hand and shook it, as if to dissuade any talk of matrimony. ‘Don’t go getting them all fired up about something that might not happen for ages – might never happen. Let’s all enjoy the afternoon.’
‘How can I enjoy it when you’ve just throttl
ed another of my proposals?’ he demanded quietly. ‘It might suit you to carry on like we are, going home to our separate houses after every meeting, but I can tell, you, it’s doing me no good at all.’
Understanding his frustration, she gave his hand a squeeze, though failed to come up with a solution.
However, after a lengthy period of thought, Niall offered one of his own. ‘You could at least make enquiries about getting a divorce.’
She showed weariness at his audacity. ‘You make it sound so easy, when ye don’t even know the first thing about it.’
That was true. Divorce was a term one only ever read about in the newspapers, when some society figure had been caught out, a term for rich people and totally unheard of amongst his own class and religion. No one of his acquaintance had ever even uttered the word, except in the context of denouncing some libertine or harlot. He felt a pang of conscience then, for his own narrow view. This was no loose woman who held his hand. He stroked her fingers, his eyes still on the children, who were now on the ‘witch’s hat’, clinging on for grim death as it hurtled round and round. ‘I know enough to realise it’ll cause a bit of a scandal, not least from the Church—’
She interrupted with a bitter laugh. ‘That’s an understatement! We’re for the flames, more like.’
He conceded that this was a very serious situation for two Catholics. But despite all that had been drummed into him since childhood, he told her, ‘I can’t believe a merciful God would punish me for loving a woman so much that I can’t see any point in life without her.’
Boadicea was softly condemning. ‘Ye shouldn’t say that, blessed with five beautiful children.’
‘Aye, and I’d give my life for them too,’ swore Niall. ‘But they’ll grow up and I’ll grow old. I couldn’t bear the thought of old age without you. That’s why I can put up with anything the Church or anyone else throws at me. I’m prepared to risk anything, because of the way I feel about you. Question is, do you feel strongly enough about me to put up with it?’ He turned to examine her again.
Secrets of Our Hearts Page 25