Everyone could see the tears of frustration building up in her mother’s eyes. She slumped down on the wooden chair beside her and took out a tissue to wipe her nose. Her father leant down and put a comforting arm around her.
“I always thought I’d taught you to be good Catholic girls, to adhere to the strict rules of Catholicism for your own protection, not just the family’s reputation. No amount of Hail Mary’s or confessions in the confessional box will give you God’s forgiveness for what you have done. Our ancestors fought tirelessly for the right to remain Catholic in Ireland. What part didn’t you listen to? What is happening to your generation?”
Her sister got up from her chair and knelt down on her knees. Her eyes tried to engage her mother’s, but her face was now buried in her hands on the table.
“That is why we are trying to do the right thing by this child and get married well before it is due. We don’t mean to cause you or our families any further embarrassment.”
Miriam could see her parents were disappointed, disappointed that their daughter had got herself into this mess, disappointed that they could not have a proper family wedding. Her father was not as staunchly Catholic as her mother, but he was a man of principle. After a long and agonizing silence he reluctantly stepped forward to offer to shake Patrick’s hand. Miriam could see a lot of remorse etched on his face that day.
“At least you are doing the decent thing by her my son. Make sure you take good care of her.”
Miriam’s mother got up and said nothing more of it. She had made her feelings known and that was the end of it as far as she was concerned. No doubt she would come around over time, but for now her utter disapproval was clear to all. She stood up and walked to the kitchen sink staring out of the window to the countryside beyond.
The rest of them sat down round the kitchen table and started to talk about plans for the wedding. Their father decided that he and their mother would not be present. It was best to get the wedding out of the way as soon as possible, to avoid any further embarrassment. An announcement would be made in the local paper. There was no time for a church wedding. In any event it seemed entirely inappropriate for her sister to have a church wedding as she had gone against God’s wishes by getting pregnant out of wedlock. They had a stilted cup of tea and some biscuits. A celebration did not seem appropriate at this time even though Patrick was doing the right thing by Miriam’s sister. They finally said their goodbyes and headed back to Dublin that evening.
“You’d better not make the same mistake I’ve made sis, it would kill mum and dad.”
“I won’t.” Miriam replied. All she knew in her head that if she got married it would have to be for love, true unconditional love. Her head was spinning with thoughts of Len. When would she next see him? Had she blown it this morning when he called her and she’d put him off? She couldn’t bear not to see him again.
The following Monday, Miriam took the day off to help organize the wedding at the Registry Office in Dublin. The woman at the office said that it was most irregular to organize a wedding at such short notice, but there was a cancellation the following Saturday. They would need at least two witnesses and a copy of her sister and Patrick’s birth certificates. If they failed to make it on time they would have to go back on the waiting list.
Miriam and her sister went for lunch that day to buy a wedding dress. They didn’t want to go to the store Miriam worked in. It would send too many alarm bells ringing, so they settled for a little store down a side street that did designer clothes suitable to go to a wedding. Her sister didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself, even though the wedding was to take place in Dublin with no family present. She chose a light cream Chanel styled suit and a pale chiffon scarf. The suit fitted perfectly, and there were no signs at present that she was pregnant. Miriam chose an egg shell dress with matching shoes and a fake pearl necklace.
“We’ll get some flowers on the day, sis and some button holes for the men.”
“Who are you bringing Miriam?”
“Oh I haven’t decided yet, it has all happened so fast.”
“You could ask Len to come along.”
“Oh I don’t know. He might draw the wrong conclusions.”
In truth she had thought about asking him, but having turned him down when he last phoned, she didn’t know whether he would bother to contact her again. Her emotions had been so enveloped with her sister’s predicament, she hadn’t dared phone him back that weekend. He probably thought she was avoiding him. She also didn’t want to create a bad impression. Getting pregnant out of wedlock was a foolish predicament to get yourself into and she didn’t want Len to think she would do something similar. Not that they had reached that stage in their relationship yet. That was an entirely different hurdle to overcome.
The rest of the week Miriam carried on working at Brown Thomas. Customers came and went. Mrs O Grady seemed pleased with her progress, the way she dealt with each customer, tending to their every requirement. Some returned to pick up their tailored suits, others came in for alterations. She picked out the perfect ties and shirts to match and made sure the client was happy with their purchases.
“I think you’re getting the hang of this young lady. We should think about moving you to another department. Think of it as a promotion.”
That Friday, just as Miriam was finishing rolling the fabrics, Len strode in and came straight up to the counter.
“I want to return this tie.”
“What’s wrong with it ?” She asked.
“It’s a bit lewd don’t you think,” he smiled. “For a wedding.”
“How did you know?”
“Pat told me, said that’s why you haven’t returned any of my calls. Well come on then, are you going to change it?”
“Miriam I suggest you serve this gentleman.” Mrs O’Grady barked.
Miriam took Len by his arm and led him to the tie section.
“You could have got me in trouble.” She whispered.
“Are you going to invite me to the wedding then?”
“It’s going to be a very quiet affair, but now that my boss knows about it!” She hissed.
“I missed you.”
With that he brushed her cheek with his hand and held her eyes. She missed him too, she wanted to tell him, with every bone of her body. She could have kissed him then, but her mind quickly turned to the fact that Mrs O’Grady’s eyes were firmly on her. She knew she had to sort out his tie and then get him to leave as soon as possible before she suspected anything.
“Meet me at O’Neills after work and we’ll discuss it then,” she murmured, catching her boss’s eye. “Perhaps this tie would suit you sir?” she said slightly louder than she should have done. She chose him a pale blue tie to match her dress and then he left.
When Miriam got to the pub that evening, the place was heaving. Friday nights were always packed. Orla and Patrick were sat with the usual crowd Pat and Humphrey. Len was sat next to Pat, engaging her in conversation. He looked at ease in the company of her friends. As she approached, he turned and stood up to fetch her a stool.
“You didn’t get demoted then?” He asked
“I was about to be promoted before you came in!” She laughed.
He led her gently to the bar and they ordered their drinks with ease. The noise in the bar was becoming increasingly deafening as the punters were piling in from work.
“So, am I invited tomorrow then, to your sister’s wedding?”
“Well I haven’t got anyone else to take if that is what you are implying.”
“I will pick you up at eleven then.”
The following day they all met up outside the Registry Office in Sheep Street. Miriam collected the roses to put in their buttonholes from the florist first thing that morning. Len looked extremely handsome in a dark navy suit with the pale blue tie, she had chosen for him. There was an air of excitement surrounding their small group which consisted of Pat and Humphrey as witnesses for Patrick and M
iriam and Len as witnesses for her sister. There were a number of couples before them and so they had to wait their turn in the waiting room.
“Are you nervous sis?”
“Just a little.” She replied.
“Don’t worry, it will be over before you know it.”
“That is what I am afraid of.”
Len was stood up, pacing the room. It felt as if they were in some doctor’s waiting room. The walls were pretty bare and slightly tired-looking. The round clock on the wall above the door, ticked away, breaking the silence. Finally a woman in black uniform called their names and they were ushered into a small office with a large mahogany desk and a suited man with rounded spectacles seated behind it. As the words stared to tumble from his mouth.
“We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Patrick to Orla.”
Miriam turned and glanced at Len. His eyes were slightly sad, she thought, as if he was regretting the vows he had taken. She couldn’t tell from his expression, what he was thinking. She knew nothing, she realized about his first wife or what she looked like. Suddenly thoughts of her intrigued her. If only she could see a photo of her?
“Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for richer and poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part?”
“I do.”
Patrick and Orla then exchanged their rings and gave each other a tender kiss. How Miriam longed for this commitment from someone one day, to entirely belong to one another. She had not been seeing Len long enough to know if he was the one, but she knew that she was in danger of falling seriously in love with this man. In some ways, she was jealous of his first wife, jealous of the fact that he married her and had his children. She knew nothing about them, or how much he still loved them. He must have loved them one day and that hurt.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Orla flung her arms around Patrick’s neck and gave him a kiss. Len and Humphrey patted Patrick on the back and they all exchanged embraces. Miriam wished her mum and dad had been there to see her sister getting married. They would have been so proud of her. They had decided to stay away to draw less attention to the whole event, yet still, she was their daughter. Len put his protective arm around her and they stepped out of the Registry Office. Humphrey and Pat took some photos and then they headed to a restaurant that they had booked at the Brooks Hotel where Orla and Patrick were going to spend their honeymoon night.
They ordered champagne and toasted the bride and groom. They ordered a set menu of oysters, salmon and then noisettes of lamb with colcannon.
“Was this like your wedding?” Miriam asked. She didn’t want to talk about his wedding, but the wine was doing the talking.
“Oh I’m afraid ours was rather a grand affair. I think we invited over one hundred and fifty people. The reception was at my ex wife’s house, just outside Cork.”
“What was she like, your ex wife I mean?”
He hesitated whilst he thought about this one. He didn’t want to offend her.
“She was beautiful to look at, but not in person. She married more out of obligation than anything else.”
How beautiful was she Miriam thought? Was she more beautiful than her? She desperately wanted the answers but daren’t ask for fear of losing him. How long had he married her for, she thought, and how long would she need to see him before the memories of her were obliterated? Maybe they would never be, because his children would always be there as a constant reminder of what could have been.
“We should explore Dublin, you and me, pretend we are tourists. I want to spend every waking moment with you.”
Humphrey proposed a toast and lunch rolled into the evening. Everyone, by this stage, was very merry and bursting into song. Miriam loved those Irish evenings when everybody got together and had a sing song. It reminded her of times they had spent together at their parent’s house. Any excuse for a party. She had never felt that home feeling in London. Len and Miriam had agreed to meet up the following day outside Trinity College.
“See you tomorrow.” She said when they kissed goodnight.
“Yes, see you then.”
Over the following months, they explored the softer side of Dublin, drinking in the city’s culture and history. The architecture was a bit of a jumble, but the soul and sociability of the place made up for the fact that Dublin was no oil painting. They ambled through the landscaped parks and engaged with Dublin’s myriad cultural offerings. Miriam remembered hearing on the radio at that time “It is often said that Dublin on the River Liffey is the political and population hub of Ireland, busy quickening to today’s tempo, but not forgetting its’ great men of the past, Swift and Burton, Sheridan and Joyce and many many others who have lent glory to the nation.”
“You have a vision for fashion, and I have a vision for architecture.” He said.
Georgian architecture in Dublin had come under attack by the Irish Government’s development policies. Whole swathes of eighteenth century houses were being demolished notably in Fitzwilliam Street and St Stephen’s Green to make way for utilitarian office blocks and government departments.
“I want to design modern architecture that inspires. Simple clean lines, encompassing modern living. There is a lot of money in it at the moment, because the property market is so buoyant. We’ve got investors screaming all over the place to get involved.”
“Aren’t you taking a risk?” Miriam said “If the property market crashes?”
“No, because the key is to demolish the building, get a grant as fast as we can and then turn the development round and move on. The trick is, not to sit on any development too long. There is a nationalist ideology at the moment, that wants to wipe away all physical reminders of our Irish colonial past. I don’t necessarily agree with this ideology, but it is a great way to make money.”
“Oh Len, I can’t believe you sometimes, all you think about is making money!” she said nudging his ribs.
“Well, I’ve got some expensive mouths to feed.”
Miriam didn’t know in that split second whether he was referring to her, his ex, his children or both.
Sometimes they would mingle with the shoppers on Cumberland’s second hand market, or watch the Corpus Christi processions through the City of Dublin. But most of the time they would drink in his vision of Dublin. They would roam the streets of Kildare, Harcourt and North Great George Street, going through his next projects. She enjoyed watching him at work. He would often show her the plans and introduce her to some of his colleagues at work. She liked the fact that he felt, she was someone that he could introduce to his colleagues, that he valued her opinion. Most of them were a lot older than her, and many had travelled with Len to South Africa. One of her favorites was Donald, who was slightly bald and overweight, but still a lot of fun. Donald came from a long line of Irish descendants.
“I’m the professional artist in the family! Piss-artist that is. I’ll never forget the time with Len in South Africa, when we were on safari. We were flying a small light aircraft in to the Kalahari desert when we had engine failure. We only had to land the plane in a herd of buffalos. I don’t know who was more scared, the buffalos or us!”
Miriam imagined this far away existence that Len had, had with his colleagues. Apparently they had been involved in some huge project out there, which was nearly at a close. Donald was still overseeing the project over there, whilst Len concentrated on Dublin.
One night they were sitting and having a drink in O’Neills, when they heard a large bomb go off. The walls shook and the ground beneath them rumbled. About twenty minutes later, a guy ran in to the pub shouting.
“Someone has only fecking bombed Nelson’s Pillar in O’Connell Street. Reckon it is the Republican Army.”
These were troubled times in Northern and Southern Ireland. The IRA as they were known, were becoming more of a force to be reckoned with, particularly in Macroom. This statue was a famous british
admiral, and had been a landmark for a Century.
“They’ve done that just before the fifty year commemorations of the Easter Rising.” said Donald.
If they weren’t frequenting the Irish pubs of the Temple district, they would be out in a convoy of cars to the races. Len always had a gamble on the horses and mostly won. They discussed buying a race horse and tried to think of some witty names to call it. Miriam enjoyed being in their company as well as having the times with Len to herself.
She rarely spoke to her sister. She was so absorbed with her new life in Dublin. The occasional times she did speak to her, she would say that Patrick and her were arguing a lot and that as the pregnancy was progressing she was feeling more and more uncomfortable.
“We’ve got a new flat just off Muswell Hill. You’ll have to come and visit sis.”
“I will. I just don’t have time at the moment.”
“How’s it going with Len?”
“Oh fine! We’re having so much fun. He is taking me to Kinsale next weekend, to a small hotel in the harbour.”
“I’m not being funny sis, but is this guy ready to commit? I know with Patrick, men are only after one thing. Don’t go there sis.”
“I’m fine”
That weekend, Len picked Miriam up in his E Type Jaguar, outside Brown Thomas, much to the approving glances of Mrs O’Grady and whisked her down the country lanes to Kinsale. Once they had left the dreary grey buildings of Dublin, they drove through the luscious green countryside with little white-washed houses either side of the road, listening to Dionne Warwick on the radio. They arrived in Kinsale, just as it was getting dark. As they stepped out of the car, it was lovely to hear the waves splashing against the rocks with the seagulls circling overhead. You could smell the fish in the ocean.
“I’ve booked us into a sweet hotel around the corner. I thought we could check-in and then check-out the hotel restaurant.”
Len took their cases to the hotel reception and checked them in to two double rooms next to each other. When they got upstairs they went to Miriam’s room and poured themselves two whiskies. He lit her cigarette and they chatted for awhile.
Abandoned Love Page 6