Secrets of Our Hearts

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Far from being encouraged, Boadicea seemed to be in turmoil. ‘I know …’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  She was crying silently now, the tears trickling down her cheeks. But it appeared that the words had to be dragged out of her, her face contorted with anguish. ‘I think the world of you too. I’d like nothing better than to be able to marry you –’ at the brief spark of optimism on his face, she rushed to moderate it – ‘but this changes everything, doesn’t it?’

  When he failed to answer, she withdrew her gaze, allowing it to drift beyond his shoulder. The wall was lower here and topped by iron rails through which could be seen the tranquil, manicured gardens of The Retreat. But there was no tranquility for her. She sniffed and used a hand to dash away the tears. ‘Come on, let’s walk,’ she said quietly, pulling out a handkerchief as they set off.

  Niall allowed her to link arms and, totally despondent and disturbed, he covered her hand with one of his. ‘I can only think it must’ve been really horrendous to make you not want to marry again.’ At her miserable nod, he asked gently, ‘What happened?’

  She unlinked her arm for a moment in order to blow her nose, this and her eyes being red with emotion. ‘I’d rather not go into it.’

  ‘No, I’m not having that,’ he said firmly. ‘You fobbed me off with that before, but if I’m to understand I have to know the truth.’

  Boadicea shook her head, more tears welling.

  They walked in silence for a while, the extensive wall of The Retreat finally ending and the green corridor opening into a truer stretch of moor. Their way intermittently hampered by tussocks of rough grass and clumps of thistle, a flock of goldfinches swooping and veering in front of them occasionally to land upon the prickly plants, they continued across the marshy centre of the moor, not a care for their shoes, both deep in thought, yet with an eye for the herd that had begun to wend its way towards them as it grazed. There was still no one about, though male voices carried from the playing fields of the army barracks, and from overhead, the faint screeching of martins and swallows. Only a hundred yards or so now from a gate that marked the exit of the stray, and the road that ran between Heslington and Fulford, Niall decided to ask whilst there was no human to eavesdrop.

  ‘I’m still in the dark as to why you refused to marry me, when you’re obviously free to do so, if you really love me as you say you do.’

  ‘It’s because I love you so much, Niall,’ came her simple reply. ‘Love you more than myself. It wouldn’t be fair, because I’ve no desire for children.’

  His immediate response was to snort offence. ‘And that rules me out as a candidate, me having five of my own!’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean that I don’t like yours!’ She clasped his arm. ‘They’re lovely – I’ve told ye, how could they not be with a father like theirs?’

  This only slightly appeased him, for he had heard it before, and it had begun to sound very much like flattery.

  ‘I’m not sure I could measure up to the responsibility of looking after them permanently, though … but that’s only half the reason.’ Boadicea could not meet his eye, as she continued, ‘My point is, that I don’t want any of my own, and I can’t see as how it could be avoided – if it were to be a proper marriage, I mean.’ She did chance a look at him then, darting a quick examination through her lashes, but it was enough to see she had shaken him.

  For the moment, Niall was robbed of words. He had always thought her the motherly type. Then a look of recognition came over him. Things suddenly began to fall into place. He had assumed that she had been the one to initiate the annulment, but could it have been the other way around? He put this to her, his voice laden with discovery. ‘It was Eddie who was the one to apply for divorce, wasn’t it?’ he breathed. ‘That was the reason he left you!’

  Her face showed that this was the point Boadicea had been dreading. She gave a shamefaced nod, hung her head, and sighed. ‘He couldn’t cope with the fact that I was denying him certain things … things that a married man has a right to.’

  Shy as he was, Niall wanted this clarified. ‘You mean you wouldn’t sleep with him?’

  Already mottled from tears, her face turned a deeper pink, as she nodded again.

  ‘What, never?’ Niall found it hard to equate such frigid behaviour with the woman who kissed him so spontaneously in the rare moments of privacy they had shared.

  She hesitated, becoming slightly flustered. ‘Well, yes, we did, a few times … what I mean to say is,’ twas all right when we first got together, but then … things went wrong, and he left. He just gave up on me, I suppose.’

  ‘Aye …’ Niall’s sighed comment trailed away, disappearing into a mist of self-examination. How would he himself measure up to the demands of celibacy? He found himself feeling sorry for the man.

  She went on quickly, ‘As if the divorce itself wasn’t bad enough – and God knows, it was the most awful, terrible thing, having your intimate affairs go before the court, interrogated by strangers, told how cruel you are – if that wasn’t enough, the whole lot had to be dragged up again.’

  ‘For the annulment?’ said Niall.

  She gave a tearful nod. ‘He found somebody he wanted to marry, and even though we were divorced, as you know, in the eyes of the Church we were still man and wife, so he took his case to his parish priest, and raked it all up again.’

  ‘I’m not very conversant with Canon Law,’ muttered Niall. ‘How—’

  ‘The gist of it was that I was deemed too young to have made an informed consent to marry – well, it was true he talked me into it, he was very good at that, was Eddie, pestered and pestered …’ She chanced a look at Niall, trying to let him see that this was another reason she had resisted his own proposals so many times, much as she wanted him. ‘I should never have married him in the first place. He was much more experienced than me. Anyway, on it went, going before tribunal after tribunal, then to the bishop, then to Westminster, then Rome, poked and picked over …’

  ‘Aye, well, I’ve no wish to dredge all that up for you.’ Niall sounded grim. ‘That part of it’s nowt to do with me.’

  Boadicea tried to explain, twisting her handkerchief as she spoke. ‘I’ve been in such a quandary, ever since we met. I love being with you, Nye. Every minute in your company is a joy. I know I should have come clean but I couldn’t bear to lose that …’

  ‘But see, that’s another thing!’ he exclaimed, his face a network of lines as he tried to fathom this mystery. ‘The way you held me and kissed me, you seemed so genuine—’

  ‘I am!’ she interjected.

  ‘—seemed to want me the way I want you!’

  ‘I do! I adore kissing you and holding you, but I daren’t take it any further, because I really, really don’t want children!’ She ended on a bitter laugh. ‘So what do I do? I torture the pair of us.’ She shook her head vigorously at her own inept handling of this.

  ‘Well, I don’t particularly want them either,’ agreed Niall, rubbing his chin in thoughtful manner. It was embarrassing for him to say it, but, ‘There’s things we can do, things that don’t go against the Church—’

  ‘None of them foolproof,’ countered Boadicea with an adamant shake of head. ‘I couldn’t afford to risk it.’

  It came to Niall then, and he extended a wave of pity. ‘Is it because you’re frightened of childbirth?’

  ‘Niall!’ Out of sheer frustration, of pent-up longing and self-denial, she lost her temper with him. ‘For Christ’s sake, why can’t ye just take my word for it, I don’t want any!’

  Reclaiming any sympathy he might have shown, Niall too lost control. ‘I can’t take your bloody word for it because you’ve lied to me! Not just a little fib, but a blatant, outrageous cruel lie!’

  ‘I might as well go now then!’ In a tearful fury, Boadicea spun round and began to march off the way they had come.

  ‘Stop bloody running away!’ He made a lunge for her, stumbled on a tussock, then ma
naged to capture her.

  ‘What’s the point in us going round in circles?’ she yelled at him, her voice carrying across the moor. ‘Me standing here trying to put my case when it’s obvious that, whatever I say, it’s over between us!’

  ‘I didn’t say that!’ Niall refused to let her go.

  She stopped trying to struggle away, demanding of him hotly, ‘So what are you saying – that you still want to marry me despite not being able to trust me? Despite me being so bloody cruel?’

  ‘Yes!’ Then just as quickly he sought to temper his impulsive response. ‘At least, I want to be able to make my decision with a clean path ahead of us – so if you’ve anything else you’re keeping from me, now’s the time to spit it out!’

  ‘I lost a baby!’ She was bright red and still angry, yet a terrible sadness had come to her eyes. And to Niall’s further astonishment, she revealed, ‘It was conceived before we were married – had to get married – and after I lost it I couldn’t bring myself even to look at Eddie, let alone have him touch me.’

  Niall, struck dumb, only managed to open his mouth.

  ‘Don’t!’ She looked on the verge of fresh tears as she held up her palms. ‘Don’t, I beg you, say another word,’ cause if I dwell on it I’ll break down completely—’

  ‘Oh, you poor—’

  ‘Stop!’ Wild of eye, her hand now pressed to her racing heart, Boadicea spoke hurriedly, ‘I’m only telling you so’s you’ll know never to ask me to repeat this and I meant what I said; I could never go through all that again!’

  Niall beheld with pity the face that had adopted a different emotion altogether, one that was almost frightening in its intensity. He wanted to ask all kinds of things – things that a husband should be able to ask his wife – but her attitude forbade this. She looked almost deranged by grief.

  Instead, he behaved gently both in deed and word, touching her arm as he promised, ‘I won’t ask you anything else.’

  Unable to meet his pitying observation, she kept her eyes averted. ‘So,’ her bosom rose as she took a deep breath, and braced herself for rejection, ‘I’ll understand if you want to change your mind, because no man could put up with that.’

  He looked pained. ‘I can’t just turn off all these feelings that you’ve started in me!’

  ‘And that’s exactly the way I feel, Niall!’ she implored him, beseeched with every muscle of her face. ‘That was the only reason for any lies I told ye – you’d started all those same deep emotions in me and I couldn’t turn them off! But at the same time I couldn’t marry you knowing what I did!’ She was clearly in turmoil. ‘I love you, I want you – probably as much as you want me – but I just can’t bring myself to – I can’t!’ She watched and waited for him to emerge from his inner struggle, the conflict of emotions upon his face.

  Niall felt battered from all sides, asking himself, how could one stop at kisses? During the celibacy of the last eleven months, including the six since meeting Bo, having to exist on the fantasy of her naked body against his, only the thought that it would eventually lead to consummation had kept him sane – and now she was telling him that would never be! Did he love her enough to accept that awful frustration? Could he, should he, bear it? Seeing him ponder so deeply, she rubbed his arm and said shakily, ‘Let’s not talk about it any more for now. Ye’ve had an awful shock, ye need time to think.’

  That he accepted this invitation rather said it all, and it was a subdued Boadicea who accompanied him whence they had come, retracing their stumbling path across the moor. For several minutes they travelled in silence, the only sounds that of their own tread, the screech of martins, and an occasional twittering of finches. But so numerous were his thoughts that they clattered in and out of his mind, back and forth, like shuttles in a loom. He was still a young man, how on earth could he swear to remain chaste for thirty or forty years, when the past eleven months had been hell enough? What if he did marry her, only to find that he just could not cope with the status quo, and they had to part? Would it be fair to put her through that again? And what would that do to the children? It would be difficult enough for them accepting her as a stepmother, but once they had, it would be even harder for them if Boadicea had suddenly to leave. Even if he chose to do the noble thing and keep her there, how would he himself feel? Trapped, that’s how.

  Yet he purported to love her. He did love her, not just her body, but the very essence of her. What sort of mature response would it be if he were to cast aside everything else they shared – the laughing and joking, the companionship – for the sake of that one thing? Oh, but such a vital thing …

  Amidst this mêlée of thoughts, he even thought of asking her to move in with him – he, Mr Respectable! For, what other way to test his endurance? Then, swiftly putting this impulse to rout, he asked himself how he could assert to love her, yet seek to put her through that. And what would such an immoral situation exemplify to his children? It would tell them that he did not consider Boadicea good enough to marry – not to mention that they would suffer no end of abuse from their peers were their father to live in sin. In theory, this was not a choice between her and his children, but that was what it amounted to.

  They had reached the asylum wall before Niall was to speak again. ‘I swore to Father Finnegan that my feelings towards you were pure …’ It came on a shaky laugh, a sound that was totally lacking in mirth. ‘I never dreamed they’d be that pure.’

  Precariously balanced twixt salvation and defeat, Boadicea hung on his words, desperately wanting to colour his decision, but afraid to say anything that might tip the balance against her.

  ‘How come he never knew about all this previously?’

  ‘I’ve never been to confession in years,’ whispered Boadicea. ‘Rarely spoken to the man. I just go to church to pray.’

  He nodded thoughtfully. There were great gaps between their exchanges, each immersed in his or her own purgatory as they climbed the gentle slope.

  ‘I love you.’ His voice was thick with emotion.

  ‘And I love you,’ she confirmed, still anxious for a verdict, her heart thudding within her breast.

  ‘I understand why you lied … I wish you’d felt able to tell me, but I do understand. I mean, I wasn’t entirely honest with you in the beginning, was I? So I can’t claim superior morals. I don’t know if I can do this,’ his voice was hollow, his eyes awash with woe, ‘but, what I do know is, I don’t want to live my life without you. The week I spent in Ireland confirmed that. Jesus, I felt like I’d suffered an amputation …’

  ‘’Twas the same for me.’ They had reached the crest now. From one of the highest points of the city, on this fine day they had a splendid view of it spreading into the distance, on its far side the distinct outline of Rowntrees’ factory, and beyond it a range of hills; but the look in Boadicea’s eyes showed that her mind was even further away than this. The gate almost within reach, she stopped, as if fearing that once back on the road, her chance of redemption would be lost.

  Niall paused with her, his troubled eyes on the vista before him, but like her, not really seeing it. Always quietly spoken, his pensive murmur was now barely audible above the rushing of the September breeze through the trees. ‘I just keep asking meself, what if we did get married, and it didn’t work out?’

  ‘I can’t advise you what to do, Niall.’ She dared not even touch him. ‘I’ve told you the way it is. Only you can decide what’s best to do.’ Please, please don’t let me down, her heart yearned.

  ‘I’m sure you’ve no wish to go through another broken marriage,’ he opined.

  ‘I have not,’ she agreed. ‘The Church might like to pretend that it never existed, but believe me, the pain was real enough …’

  He searched her eyes, his own deeply troubled, trying to divine some glimmer of hope. Maybe once they were married, and on a firmer footing, she might change her mind. But what if she didn’t? Niall was not a brute to force the issue. Could he be content with companionship
? Could any man? He did not know. ‘I just don’t know what is best,’ he sighed. Then he studied his palm, using the thumb of his other hand to trace the lines and calluses thereon. ‘Accepting that you don’t want kids, and anything that might lead to it … would it still have to mean we slept in separate beds?’

  She looked first startled, then wary.

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s no ulterior motive,’ he allayed her suspicion. ‘But surely we could still be close, hold each other, fall asleep together and that …’

  ‘Oh, but that’d be tempting things, Niall.’ Boadicea shook her head to suggest caution.

  ‘If I were twenty and headstrong, maybe,’ he said unconvincingly.

  ‘You’re still a young man, Niall.’ It was painful for her to say it, but only fair that she did. For she had felt the way his body reacted when they kissed, knew what difficulty she herself had in preventing things going further. ‘Could you really make do with kisses – could I, come to that? Wouldn’t you rather have a wife who could provide everything you need, not just part of it?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ he said honestly, ‘but it depends what you consider to be the most important part of marriage. I’m not saying that isn’t important, because it is – by God it is – and I still don’t know if it would work between us. But what sort of bloke would I be if I gave you the elbow, just so’s I could find a wife that would give me plenty of the other?’

  Then, yet again, he was pulled the opposite way. ‘By the same token, it’s all very well being noble, but as you said, I’m still a bloke …’

  She held her breath, dreading his farewell.

  ‘I even considered asking you to move in with me,’ he admitted. ‘It would give us both a better idea of whether we could cope or not.’

  Boadicea was shocked, and took a few moments to recover.

  In the meantime, Niall was to fill the hiatus. ‘I know,’ he told her with a self-deprecating chuckle. ‘I surprised meself. The things I’ve said about the type of person who acts like that …’ He shook his head. ‘But it’s all very well to condemn others when you haven’t been in their position.’ He rubbed his hands briskly over his face. ‘Oh, I don’t know! What do you think?’ He handed the problem back to her.