by Anne Bennett
‘I wasn’t. Isn’t that awful, with Mammy and all? I couldn’t help remembering it.’
‘It was good then?’
‘Joanne!’ Maria said, shocked.
‘What?’ Joanne said. ‘It must have been good if you had a smile on your face when you remembered it. Go on, tell me, did you enjoy it?’
‘Yes,’ Maria said in a whisper, ‘and that’s shocking too, isn’t it, because most woman don’t,’
‘Aye, or say they don’t,’ Joanne commented wryly. ‘All I know is that if I was looking forward to a lifetime of something, I would face it with greater enthusiasm if I could find any sort of pleasure in it. So you don’t be worrying about that, or anything else either. At least your man is standing by you.’
‘Aye,’ Maria said. ‘Though I did think at one point he wouldn’t. He went mad when he heard.’
‘Oh, lots do that,’ Joanne said.
‘Do they?’
‘Oh, yes. See it as a loss of their freedom or some such rubbish. Still, your Barney came through in the end, and that’s the main thing.’
Aye, Maria told herself the morning of her wedding, that was the main thing. In a few short hours now she would be Mrs McPhearson, and that night she and her legally wed husband would snuggle together in the double bed in the room that had once been her parents’. Barney could have sex all night if he wanted it. She blushed at the thought though her insides fluttered in delicious anticipation and the light pink flush leant a bloom to her face, as she twirled anxiously in front of Bella and asked, ‘Do I look all right?’
‘All right?’ Bella exclaimed. ‘My darling girl, you look perfect, so you do. You have a rare and wondrous beauty and Barney can consider himself a lucky man. Shall we go down?’
Remembering the state of her father the previous night, Maria descended the stairs with more than a little trepidation, terrified her father would still be lying in some drunken heap.
But, she needn’t have worried. Sean had been up since six o’clock, waking Sam, who’d had as little sleep as he had, and washing him all over, even the sparse hair on his head. He’d also given him plenty of water to drink before getting him into the clothes he wore for Mass.
When Maria arrived in the room, he was sitting in his wheelchair, looking more respectable than he had any right to look.
He was actually feeling like death, but when he caught sight of Maria, the breath almost stopped in his throat and he was almost floored that he was the father of such a beauty. ‘Oh Jesus,’ he said, catching hold of the hands that she had placed on his shoulders. ‘There just aren’t the words to describe you.’
‘Oh, Daddy, give over,’ Maria said. ‘I’ll be going up the aisle the colour of beetroot.’
Sean stepped into the room, looking very distinguished in a black pinstriped suit and brilliant white shirt, his tie matching the handkerchief in his top pocket. He was across the room in two strides when he saw Maria.
He put his hands on her shoulders, looked into her large green eyes and said, ‘Maria, I think you’re one of the loveliest women to walk God’s earth.’
‘Oh, Uncle Sean.’
‘Don’t “Oh, Uncle Sean” me, Maria,’ he said in a mock reprimand. ‘Get used to compliments and used to the fact you are very beautiful.’
Maria’s face was the colour of a ripe tomato and Bella, now dressed in a smart blue costume, clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘Leave her be, Sean,’ she said and dabbed at Maria’s face with powder from her compact to try to reduce the blushing redness of it.
Sean had one niggling worry and it was that Barney wouldn’t make it to the church, because he’d still been drinking hard when he’d eventually dragged Sam home and in fine fettle, as if set to go on to the next morning. He’d had one hell of a job with Sam that morning and he hoped that someone, Seamus maybe, had made the same effort with the bridegroom.
He needn’t have worried. Seamus, who was Barney’s best man, had kicked his brother awake that morning. Barney couldn’t ever remember feeling so bad. He had no recollection of how he’d got home and who had undressed him and put him to bed. Once roused, he had spent half an hour or more vomiting, with his brother roaring at him to get ready. That didn’t help the pounding in his head and, even dressed, he felt the nausea rising in his throat. When they had nearly reached the church, Seamus had to stop the car for Barney to vomit at the side of the road.
‘All right?’ he asked, as Barney wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. ‘We’re nearly there now and we can’t risk being late.’
Barney felt far from all right. His head thumped so badly he felt dizzy with it, his stomach continued to churn and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. It took a great deal of effort for him to smile at his brother and say, ‘None better.’
It satisfied Seamus, though. ‘Good man!’ he said. ‘Come on then.’
When they drew up before the church, the two stood in front of it for a few minutes.
‘This here is the end of your freedom,’ Seamus said. ‘From now on you’ll be at someone else’s beck and call, someone who will tell you what time you are to be home, how much to drink.’
‘No, man,’ Barney said. ‘Maria isn’t like that.’
‘She isn’t a wife yet,’ Seamus said ominously. ‘From what I’ve seen in marriages, most wives are like that.’
‘I’ll see to it Maria isn’t,’ Barney said. ‘I’d not stand it.’
‘We’ll see,’ Seamus said. ‘You ready?’
Barney gave a brief nod, which set off the pounding in his head again. He followed his brother down the aisle, greeting Father Flaherty, and hoping he could get through the next hour or so without disgracing himself.
And then the Wedding March was heard. Maria was at the door. All of the friends and neighbours thronging the church thought Maria a truly beautiful bride and many were awed by the magnificent dress, the like of which had never been seen in Moville before, but few could not be moved by the poignant sight of Sam. He was being pushed by Sean and he held tight to his daughter’s hand, a smile of absolute pride on his face.
Barney felt a wave of dizziness assail him as he got to his feet and he swayed and would have fallen, but Seamus caught his arm.
‘Go steady, man,’ he hissed and Barney fixed his eyes on the altar steps and concentrated on not falling on his face.
The back room of Rafferty’s was full as Barney and Maria entered hand in hand. Maria was smiling and Barney was doing his best, but still feeling sluggish.
Seamus had invited two friends to the reception. He introduced them to Maria as P.J. Connelly, now minus his appendix, and Eamonn Duffy. Maria cared for them as little as she cared for Seamus, and thought it presumptuous of him to invite them. But she didn’t want to mar her wedding day with an argument. So she smiled as politely as she could. Nor did she say anything when Seamus put a pint of Guinness in Barney’s hand, though she had noticed Barney’s pallor in the church, his hazy eyes trying to gaze into hers, his indistinct and slightly slurred voice making the responses and the way his hands shook when they were signing the register. She knew he wasn’t completely sober from the night before and she had no wish to see him drink himself stupid again.
However, she could say nothing without making him look a fool and her a nag, and so was pleased when she heard Barney say, ‘Better not, Seamus. I thought I was going to be sick as a dog a couple of times in the church.’
‘Hair of the dog. Best thing for it,’ Seamus said. ‘Trust me.’
Barney gave a nervous laugh and glanced at Maria guiltily as he took the pint. ‘Oh, well, if you say so.’
Maria sighed in irritation and marched to the other end of the room as Barney took another gulp of the Guinness.
‘Let her go,’ Seamus said when Barney made to follow her. ‘You’ve run after her for bloody months. Now you’ve got her, let her know who’s boss from the start or she’ll lead you a dog’s life.’
‘Maria?’
‘Any woman,’ Seamu
s said decisively. ‘And get that pint down you and you’ll feel a whole lot better.’
Eamonn and P.J. each insisted on buying Barney a drink for his wedding day too. He told himself he could barely refuse and Seamus was right: it was making him feel a whole lot better. After the second pint, he couldn’t imagine why he’d ever thought P.J. and Eamonn so bad, and after the third, he thought them the greatest fellows in the world altogether—better company, anyway, than Maria, who was glowering at him from the other side of the room.
By the time he lurched over to join her at the table, he was feeling very mellow and Maria watched him nervously. The pub had donated bottles of wine and both Sean and Seamus bought more. Many men stuck to pints of beer, but Barney declared he liked the wine. Used to pints of beer, he was drinking it at a prodigious rate.
‘Go easy,’ Maria pleaded quietly to Barney, but he remembered his brother’s words and regarded her coldly. ‘Are you telling me how much I should drink?’
A little late for that, Maria might have said, seeing that Barney was already pretty far gone. However, she wanted no row, not now in front of everyone and with Sean’s concerned eyes upon her. ‘No, of course not,’ she said to Barney. ‘It’s just that you’ll be expected to say a few words when Seamus has finished.’
‘I can do that, no problem,’ Barney said.
Seamus’s speech was surprisingly funny, although it was a general dig at women and marriage.
‘And, now,’ he said at the end, ‘I’ll leave it for my brother to say a few words, another good man to bite the dust.’
Barney staggered to his feet and Maria noticed he had to hold on to the table to steady himself. He stood swaying while he pontificated. Maria was in an agony of embarrassment, for he was speaking rubbish, and in the end she tugged on his jacket.
‘The musicians are setting up,’ she said. ‘And we have to cut the cake yet.’
‘I’ll have to finish here,’ Barney said. ‘My good lady wife has told me that, and like all married men I know I must do what I’m told.’
There was a ripple of laughter. Some even called out, ‘Hear, hear,’ but most looked definitely relieved, and Maria was just glad she had got Barney to stop talking at long last. She stood up beside him to cut the cake and then, with the tables rapidly cleared, the musicians began to play. Barney stumbled out onto the dance floor with Maria, to lead them all in a four-hand reel.
It was a disaster. Barney forgot where he should be going and who his partners were. He trod on more than a couple of ladies’ toes and fell flat on his face the once when he got his feet in a tangle. Eventually, the music drew to an end, and Barney said. ‘That’s me done with the dancing. I’m away for better pursuits.’
Maria stood abandoned and watched Barney go back to Seamus and his cronies until Sean rescued her and led her out onto the floor again.
Barney never came near Maria again. A couple of times he’d suggested it, but one of the others would always dissuade him. ‘Isn’t she surrounded by friends and relations?’ Eamonn said. ‘You’ll have a whole life together, sure.’
‘Aye. Long enough for anyone,’ P.J. said.
‘Too long, many would say,’ Seamus put in.
Barney had no desire to alienate or annoy his brother and his two friends. He knew by the looks Maria cast him that he was already in her bad books, though for the life of him he didn’t know why. She seemed to be having the time of her life, laughing with this one and that and she’d not been off her feet all evening.
As the night wore on, Maria began to feel decidedly weary and when she saw Sean tried to hide his yawns, she decided to call it a day.
‘Will you take Daddy home?’ she asked Sean.
He nodded, but grimly. ‘I’ll try,’ he said. ‘But he’ll likely not want to come.’
Maria looked to where her father was sitting with Con and a few of his mates from the docks. He was regaling them badly with songs while the band were having a break, but the others, as drunk as Sam, applauded each one and encouraged him to sing another. She knew too her father would have no intention leaving yet. ‘Good Luck!’ she said.
‘Will you tell Barney?’
Maria had no wish to go near Barney, but she knew she couldn’t just go.
She sighed. ‘Aye, for all the good it will do.’
She’s coming, your missis,’ P.J. told Barney, catching her approaching out of the corner of his eye.
‘Coming to join us, darling girl?’ Barney said mockingly as she drew nearer. ‘I’ll get you a drink. What’ll you have?’
‘Not for me, thanks,’ Maria said. ‘Sean and Daddy have had enough. We were thinking of going home now.’
‘Doesn’t look like your old man’s had enough,’ Seamus said, with a wide smile.
He spoke the truth. Sam was resisting going home with every bone in his body, lashing out at Sean and roaring with the injustice of it. Many were sympathetic, including, it seemed, Seamus’s cronies.
‘Shame it is, poor old sod,’ Eamonn said. ‘Making him go home when he’s enjoying himself so much.’
Maria knew just how difficult her father could be once he was home, and he’d still have to be washed and changed and got ready for bed. She knew Sean must have been up early that morning to get her father looking as respectable as he did. She didn’t reply to Eamonn, but said instead to Barney, ‘Will you come?’
‘Now?’
‘Aye.’
‘He’s not ready yet, are you, Barney?’ Seamus said, ‘and I’ve just got another round in. Barney wants to party on, don’t you?’
‘’S right,’ Barney said. ‘Party on.’
‘Can’t you see he’s had enough?’ Maria cried, rounding on Seamus.
‘Are you going to stand that, mate?’ P.J. said to Barney. ‘A woman telling a man when he’s had enough to drink and when to go home?’
No, by Christ, thought Barney. Making a holy show of him like that. ‘I’ll drink as much as I like and go home when I’m good and ready,’ he told Maria.
‘That’s telling her,’ said Seamus approvingly.
‘Shut up!’ Maria snapped, and then more coaxingly to Barney, ‘Come on home, pet,’ and she put a hand on his arm.
Barney shook it off. ‘When I’m ready, I’ve told you.’
‘That’s it, mate. Start as you mean to go on,’ Eamonn said.
Maria was furious with Barney—with them all—but she knew they were too drunk to take any notice, whatever she said. She shook her head helplessly. ‘You’ll not come then?’
‘I’ll come home when I decide to come home,’ Barney said with an emphatic shake of the head. ‘Sure I can’t get you a wee drink?’
‘No, you can’t,’ Maria rapped out. ‘Unlike some, I know when I’ve had enough.’
Dismissive laughter followed her as she strode back to the others. Sam was still remonstrating with Sean. ‘Stop it, Daddy,’ she said sharply to Sam. ‘Are you also determined to ruin the day?’ Her sharp words cut through the fog in Sam’s brain and he sagged in his chair. ‘Oh, let’s just get home out of this,’ Maria said wearily.
‘What about Barney?’
‘What about him?’ Maria said scornfully. ‘He can go to hell for all I care.’
Sam heard the hurt and disappointment in Maria’s voice. He was saddened, but he said nothing.
Bella and Dora had seen the altercation at the other side of the room and the two bright spots of colour in Maria’s cheeks. ‘Not that I blame her being angry and upset,’ Bella said. ‘God, that Barney wants clouting with a rolling pin.’
Maria, if she’d heard them, would have agreed, but she had bade them them good night and gone into the night after her uncle and father.
When they got in, Maria put on the kettle for her father’s wash, raked up the range, and put a nightshirt to warm for him on the rail. Sean did the necessaries for her father and when he was washed and in the warmed nightshirt he fell into stupor—like sleep while Maria and her uncle sat before the fire with a bed
time cup of cocoa.
Maria had said nothing about the scene at Raffety’s, but Sean knew she was still upset. He said, ‘Barney will likely be sorry for his behaviour in the morning—that is, of course, if he remembers it at all.’
‘Huh.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ Sean said, though he was furious himself with the man for causing Maria such distress and making her look stupid.
‘Huh,’ Maria said again.
‘He’s been drinking solid for two days,’ Sean went on. ‘He’s not himself at all.’
‘No, he isn’t,’ Maria agreed vehemently. ‘He’s like some stranger I married.’
‘Shall I wait up?’
‘Uncle Sean, he could be hours yet.’
‘I’ll doze in the chair, if I have to,’ Sean said, and then as Maria still hesitated, he said, ‘I’d like to do this.’
Then Maria realised she’d feel safer with Sean waiting downstairs. Safer? She thought that was a funny word to use about her errant husband. She’d never before felt threatened by Barney, but then she’d never seen him so drunk that he degenerated into some kind of uncaring monster. ‘Thank you, Uncle Sean. I’d appreciate it.’
‘Go on up to bed,’ Sean told his niece. ‘You look all in.’
Maria was tired. She mounted the stairs and went into her parents’ old room for the first time. As she took off the wedding dress and petticoats, the sadness of it suddenly got to her. Instead of clasping a young, virile husband to her and making love over and over again, she was going to bed alone on her wedding night. She put on her nightdress of the softest cambric that she had made and embroidered, remembering that she had done it with a smile on her face as she’d imagined Barney near tearing it from her in a frenzy of lust. She slipped into the double bed, which seemed so big compared to the one she had been used to—so big and so lonely—and she muffled her tears in a pillow.