The Wasted Years Read online

  The Club Orchid was situated above a pub, on the corner where Castle Street met King Street, down near the town centre. As usual, Rosaleen met May at the bottom of Clonard Street and in high spirits they caught the tram down the Falls Road.

  They felt very daring going to the dance at the present time, because since De Valera, the Prime Minister of Southern Ireland, had drawn up a constitution laying claim to the six counties, there had been trouble. The Protestants did not want a united Ireland, and Lord Craigavon had challenged De Valera by calling a general election a few months earlier. The campaign was low key in most places but in Belfast it was bitterly fought and the Troubles which had been dormant for a time were rekindled. The country had gone to the polls on February 9th and it was a day of bitter violence. Cars were wrecked and burned, and windows broken. Republican and Nationalist women had fought each other in the street and the hated B-Specials were on full alert, their guns prominently displayed.

  To the delight of the Protestants, Craigavon won the election and the riots eased off a bit, but resentment still simmered, with the Catholics very much aware that the majority of those out of work were of their faith, and that any jobs going would be given to Protestants. However, Rosaleen and May thought it was worth the risk of going to the dance, in spite of recriminations from their families and Joe, because they knew the crowd, and Catholics and Protestants mixed quite amicably together in the Club Orchid.

  The ballroom was packed, as was usual on a Friday night, and as usual Bill Murray (Joe’s young cousin) lifted Rosaleen in the first dance. She often wondered if Bill kept an eye on her and reported back to Joe, but she did not misbehave so she had nothing to worry about.

  It was a slow foxtrot and Bill was a good dancer so she gave herself up to the sheer joy of dancing. Then, suddenly, an awareness came over her and as surely as if he had hailed her, she knew he was there. She could feel his presence, and eagerly her eyes roamed around the dancers until they locked with his and a thrill coursed through her body, making her tremble.

  ‘Are you cold, Rosaleen?’ Bill drew back and gazed down at her in concern.

  ‘No, no, somebody must’ve walked over my grave,’ she assured him, and over Bill’s shoulder she looked at his partner. It was Betty, who raised a hand in greeting, and chiding herself for feeling relieved, Rosaleen nodded in their direction before giving all her attention to Bill. When the dance ended she went to the side of the dance floor where all the girls gathered, and joined May, tugging anxiously at her sleeve.

  ‘May! He’s here. What am I gonna do?’ she whispered urgently.

  ‘Eh?’ May’s glance was blank. Her attention on the lad with whom she had just danced, and who was waiting for the next. ‘Who’s here?’

  ‘Oh! Ye know! Him!’ moaned Rosaleen, in anguish. ‘Oh, here he comes.’

  ‘Can I have this dance please?’

  Worried by the effect he was having on her, she was determined to refuse him, but one look up into his intensely blue eyes and she was lost.

  With a slight nod of her head, she silently entered his arms and was drawn close. Their steps matched perfectly, and lost in a bubble of joy, Rosaleen let his remarks on the music go over her head.

  The dance was half over before he spoke again. Drawing back, he mouthed the words down at her. ‘I’m sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t realise you are dumb. How stupid of me.’

  Her head reared back and she gaped up at him, her mouth opening in protest. Then she saw the twinkle in his eye and laughed ruefully.

  ‘I suppose you can be forgiven for thinking so,’ she agreed, and quirking an eyebrow at him asked, ‘What would you like to talk about?’

  ‘Well, let’s start from scratch, shall we? Do you come here often?’

  His face was alive with suppressed laughter and she dimpled back up at him. ‘Every Friday night.’ Both brows arched high, inquiringly. ‘And you?’

  ‘First time here. You see I’m in the Merchant Navy and I’m away from home a lot.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rosaleen wondered why she was so disappointed. Why she felt such a sense of loss. After all, he meant nothing to her.

  ‘I have another week’s leave,’ he said, and drew her closer. ‘Come out with me. Please!’ His deep voice was low, pleading.

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t, I’m engaged.’

  He glanced at her left hand, at the large diamond sparkling there, and pretended to shade his eyes from the dazzle.

  ‘Ooops, that’s a whopper. Where’s he tonight?’

  ‘He’s plastering the walls of the house we’ve just bought.’ She gave a little laugh and added proudly, ‘This is my night out alone.’

  He pulled her closer still and his eyes scanned her face intently, marvelling at the purity of her skin and the beauty of her eyes.

  ‘He’s a fool! If you were mine I wouldn’t let you out of me sight.’

  She drew away from him, pleased but embarrassed, and with a toss of her head replied tartly, ‘Well then, thank God I’m not yours. I need some time to myself or I would feel smothered.’

  ‘When are you getting married?’

  ‘The beginning of August, all being well. That’s if the Troubles don’t get too out of hand.’

  ‘So soon?’ he cried, dismayed. He had so little time to make her change her mind. ‘Look, surely you can come out with me on one date?’

  Seeing she was about to refuse again, he rushed on. ‘Just once! One date.’

  ‘No … I’m sorry, but I can’t.’

  She did not realise how regretful she sounded, but he did and asked softly, ‘Are you afraid?’

  Once more her head reared back, her small chin jutted forward, her eyes flashed green fire, and he fell more in love with her.

  ‘Of course I’m not afraid! Why should I be?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Why not come out with me then? Eh? Just once. We’ll probably hate each other and I’ll be able to go away with an easy mind. Come on, put me out of my misery.’

  She looked up at him, a slight frown ruffling her smooth, wide brow as she digested his words.

  Why not? Why not indeed? One date would not hurt her, and Joe need never know.

  He could see that she was weakening and again pleaded: ‘Please, Rosaleen, just one date.’

  ‘All right.’ Guilt and shame made her add urgently. ‘But don’t dance with me too often. Joe’s cousin is here.’

  He nodded in understanding.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tuesday night. Does that suit you?’

  Every Tuesday night Joe went to the confraternity in Clonard Monastery. He usually called to see her afterwards but she would make up some excuse to put him off.

  Aware that the next three days would drag, Sean, grateful for small mercies, nodded in agreement. ‘Where shall I meet you?’

  ‘Outside the London Mantle Warehouse.’

  ‘At the corner of Chapel Lane?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. And please … don’t tell Betty we’re meeting.’

  Her eyes pleaded with him and he guessed, rightly, that she was having second thoughts.

  ‘I won’t tell anyone,’ he promised, and after another dance he left the ballroom. He did not want Joe’s cousin reporting anything amiss in case she did not show up on Tuesday night. Having accomplished what he had set out to do, he was contented. She was meeting him; it was up to him now.

  Having told Joe not to call to see her on Tuesday night as she would be going out with May to visit a sick aunt, Rosaleen prepared carefully for her date with Sean.

  Watched by her young sister Annie, she brushed her thick hair until it glowed like dull, pale gold, and highlighted her cheekbones with blusher. Her eyes needed no help to enhance them. Thick dark lashes framed clear green irises edged with a dark ring, and well-shaped dark brows arched above them as if in approval.

  ‘Are you sure you’re going out to visit May’s sick aunt?’ Annie queried, from where she lay sprawled on the bed eyeing Rosaleen. ‘Are you telling
wee porky pies, eh, Rosaleen?’

  Her sister threw her a look of rebuff and did not deign to answer. Inspecting her clothes in the wardrobe, she chose to wear a white suit, knowing it would show off the translucency of her skin and that the green of the blouse she wore under the jacket would darken the green of her eyes.

  Examining herself in the mirror she was aware that she looked lovely, all aglow! How come she did not look like this when she went out with Joe? It must be the secrecy; the idea of doing something naughty. That must be what added the sparkle.

  Annie showed that she was aware of the difference also.

  ‘Hey, our Rosaleen. Have you a date with someone else?’ she asked, her face agog with excitement. Even as she said the words, her mind rejected them. Rosaleen would never do anything underhand. Dismayed at the question, Rosaleen gaped at her, but as she groped about in her mind for a suitable answer, she saw the doubt die in Annie’s eyes.

  It was with relief that she hugged Annie, who whispered wistfully, ‘You look lovely.’

  ‘Thank you, love. See you later.’

  And bracing herself to pass her mother’s scrutiny, she descended the stairs.

  Her mother looked at her askance. ‘Where are you goin’?’

  ‘I’m going with May to visit her aunt, she’s not very well,’ she lied, and knew by the way her mother’s face creased in disbelief that she was not fooled.

  Rosaleen was consumed with guilt and shame. Why was she doing this? Usually honest, she found it hard to lie, but tonight she felt a person apart. Tonight she wanted to be different. Just this one time. One date with an exciting stranger, before she got married.

  ‘See you later, Mam.’

  ‘What about Joe? What will I say to him when he comes in with your da after the confraternity?’ Thelma Magee was worried and it was apparent in her attitude. ‘He always calls. Ye know he does.’

  ‘He won’t be calling tonight, I’ve told him I’m going out.’

  And before any more embarrassing questions could be asked, Rosaleen closed the door firmly and hurried down the street. Just one date, she promised herself, but she was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

  Sean Devlin was growing worried when at last he saw Rosaleen step off the tram at the bottom of Castle Street. He had begun to think that she had changed her mind. As she walked towards him, blonde hair bobbing on her shoulders, he noticed how many heads turned to watch her and wondered how this Joe fellow could bear to let her out of his sight. The suit she wore was close-fitting, the skirt below the box jacket hugging her slim hips and swinging gently to below the calves of her legs, and his breath caught in his throat at the beauty of her.

  ‘Hello.’ Her voice was shy, uncertain, and her even white teeth nipped at her bottom lip.

  ‘Hello.’ He smiled warmly down at her. ‘Would you like to go anywhere in particular?’

  She shook her head, her cheeks bright pink at the admiration in his eyes.

  ‘Shall we go to the Imperial then? I hear the film’s good.’

  This time she nodded her head, feeling tongue-tied. She was annoyed at her shyness. He would think her a fool.

  With one accord they turned and walked down Castle Street towards the town centre and when he reached for her hand and pulled her arm through his, hugging it close to his side, she did not demur. Tonight was her last night out alone with a man, before she wed. A kind of hen night. She did not worry that someone might see them and tell Joe. No! She felt that they were invisible, alone on a cloud, and as they queued up outside the Imperial Picture House in Cornmarket, she was enclosed in a bubble of contentment and happiness.

  During the film he held her hand, and every now and again he lifted it and brushed his lips across her palm. The emotions this aroused frightened her and she had to keep reminding herself that it was only a date. The film was a sad love story, and she was unable to stop the tears from falling. Surreptitiously, she wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. She did not want him to think her a fool. Joe often chided her for being soft-hearted, but to her surprise Sean squeezed her hand in sympathy and presented her with a handkerchief. As the film drew to a close, she was sad that their night out was nearly over and when he asked her if she would like a coffee, she nodded eagerly, glad of the chance to spend more time with him.

  They sat either side of the table in a dimly lit cafe and when he had ordered the coffee, he reached across the table and gripped her hands in his.

  ‘It can’t end like this.’

  ‘It must! You promised! One date you said,’ she cried in dismay.

  His eyes held hers and his head swayed slowly from side to side as he denied this.

  ‘No. I said we would probably hate each other if we were to go out together. Remember?’

  ‘You did promise. You said one date,’ she whispered, greatly agitated, and dragged her eyes away from the magic in his.

  The warmth of his look embraced her. ‘Ah, Rosaleen, I didn’t promise. But even if I had promised, I would gladly break it … because I know now that I love you. We were meant for each other. Can’t you feel it?’

  His hands tightened on hers. ‘Look at me, Rosaleen.’

  The thick dark lashes that fanned her cheeks slowly lifted and their eyes met, and there it was again, that lovely, warm feeling of belonging.

  ‘There now, you feel it too,’ he chided her. ‘Don’t deny it.’

  The arrival of the waitress with the coffee caused him to let go of her hands, and grateful to be free of his overpowering touch, she leant back in her seat out of his reach. There could be no more dates; it was too dangerous. She must make him understand that nothing had changed, that she was marrying Joe.

  They argued the whole way home, but she was adamant and at the corner of Colinward Street, where she lived, offered him her hand.

  Ignoring the outstretched hand he took her by the shoulders and drew her into the shadows where he kissed her; his lips persuasive, compelling. She stood for some moments, cold and passive, but then her body betrayed her and her lips moved hungrily under his and her arms crept up around his neck. They strained together for many moments and then he drew back and looked at her, a puzzled frown on his brow.

  ‘Does this Joe fellow not satisfy you?’

  Pulling angrily away from him, she cried, ‘Don’t talk like that! That was a sin! I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that.’ There was a break in her voice as she lamented, ‘Joe and I are saving ourselves for our wedding night.’

  ‘Listen, love.’ His voice was gentle, soothing. ‘I’m not talking about heavy petting, but surely he shows his love like this …’ he pulled her close again and to her shame she let him, wanting to recapture the joy of the first kiss ‘… and this.’

  His hands caressed the back of her neck and trailed down her back, before gently gripping her buttocks and fitting her body to suit his. Sending thrill upon thrill coursing through her, awakening emotions that she had not known existed; making her feel weak at the knees. Butterfly kisses covered her face, her eyes, then her nose, then gently, so gently, her mouth. She stood in a trance, unable to break the spell he was weaving around her, until his hand cupped her breast. Then sanity returned and she reacted in anger, pushing him roughly away, hissing: ‘Don’t! That’s a sin! Oh, I never want to see you again. Never again!’

  Her voice broke on a sob. Turning, she ran down the street, her cheeks hot with shame. Joe had been courting her for eighteen months and not once had he been disrespectful. Not once had he touched her breast. He respected her too much. And tonight she had let a stranger, an exciting, wonderful stranger, but a stranger nonetheless, touch her … and, worse still, had wanted more. Much more, she realised, and shame engulfed her. She must never meet him again. It was too dangerous.

  The rest of the week passed in a daze and she clung to Joe like a drowning person, feeling safe only in his company.

  Sean was outside the factory on Wednesday and Thursday nights, but she refused to talk to him. In despa
ir, he called May aside.

  ‘Look, I go away tomorrow and I won’t be back until the end of July. Talk to her. Please, talk to her,’ he begged in a ragged voice. ‘She doesn’t love this Joe fellow. I just know she doesn’t. She’ll be unhappy married to him.’

  Watching Rosaleen scurry ahead like a scared rabbit, May cried. ‘I suppose you think she loves you?’

  She was angry with him. Rosaleen had been unhappy and jumpy since her date with him and May placed the blame squarely at his door. However, Sean was sadly shaking his head. He had thought he would be able to make Rosaleen talk to him, listen to his pleas, convince her that they were meant for each other, but he had failed miserably. She was strong-willed, much stronger than he, and he had to admit defeat. If only he was not due back on his ship. If only he had more time to wear her down.

  ‘No, she doesn’t love me,’ he said sadly. ‘Or at least she won’t admit she loves me, but she doesn’t love Joe.’

  He was so earnest that in spite of herself May was impressed and asked, ‘What do you mean, she doesn’t love Joe? Who are you to say?’

  ‘So help me, I don’t know. I only fear she will be unhappy with him.’

  ‘You’re wrong. Joe’s a good man, and they’re hard to come by. He has his own wee business, so he does. He’ll provide well for her. She’ll never want for anything.’

  He looked astounded. ‘An’ you think that’s all that matters? A meal ticket?’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ May was adamant. ‘I wish I was marrying a man like Joe. I’d look to neither left nor right, I can tell you.’

  He swung away from her in anger and then swung back again to bawl, ‘In the name of God, are you all thick? Do you think money’s everything?’

  Stung, May put her hands on her hips, threw her head high and bawled back at him. ‘No, but it helps to get everything.’

  The look he bestowed on her was full of pity. ‘You poor fool. You poor, poor fool.’

  Without another word he turned on his heel and strode down the street, leaving her standing gaping after him.

  The weeks flew past and Rosaleen, caught up in preparations for her wedding, managed to push all thoughts of Sean to the back of her mind. She would not fancy marrying a Merchant Navy man, she convinced herself. Her Aunt Margaret was married to a sailor and half her life was spent waiting for him to come home on leave. No, that was not for her. She wanted a man who was always there, someone to hold her close in the night. If, when Joe kept her at arm’s length, she longed for the rapture she had experienced with Sean’s kisses, she assured herself that it was worth waiting for. Just a matter of a few months, and then they would be married and Joe could show his love for her. Meantime, there was plenty to keep her occupied. What with decorating the house and attending fittings for her wedding dress and all the other things attached to preparing for a wedding.