The Wasted Years Page 4

  Then she saw him. He was standing on the far side of the Falls Road, facing the church, against the wall that used to house the old asylum. She gave a gasp of dismay when she saw how haggard and ill he looked. Immediately Joe was all concern. ‘Are you all right, love?’

  ‘Yes!’ her answer was so abrupt, he drew back to get a better look at her face, and she hastened to assure him, ‘Yes, I’m fine, fine. Just nervous.’

  She moved closer to him and gripped his arm tightly. Would Sean approach them? Would he say anything that would betray her? While the photographer took the wedding photos, she kept her eyes averted, and when she next dared to look, Sean was gone and she breathed a sigh of relief. She only hoped that she had not ruined the wedding photographs by her own stupidity.

  Chapter 2

  With a mumbled excuse, Rosaleen pushed her chair away from the table and hurried from the room. A slight frown gathered on Joe’s brow as he gazed thoughtfully after her. This was the third morning she had rushed from the table, out to the bathroom that he had built on to the back of the house. It was almost as if she was … but then, she couldn’t be … could she? His mind boggled at the idea. Could she possibly be pregnant?

  In the bathroom, on her knees at the toilet bowl, Rosaleen retched and retched, her whole body contracting in an effort to bring up food from an empty, exhausted stomach. At last, flushing the toilet, she pushed herself wearily to her feet and turned to the wash-hand basin, despair in her heart. Whilst she washed her hands and splashed her face with cold water she examined her reflection in the mirror. She looked awful! There wasn’t a vestige of colour in her face and her eyes were like saucers; saucers with great dark rims round them. A sigh left her lips, a great, deep sigh from the heart. She would have to tell Joe. There was no alternative. A shiver coursed through her body at the idea. In the short time that they were married, she had discovered that Joe was very strict where morals were concerned. Black was black and white was white. There was no grey as far as he was concerned. You were either good or you were bad, mistakes ought not to happen. What would he do when he discovered that she was pregnant? Would he put her out? Where would she go? Back to her parents’ home? Would they let her return.

  In a state of terror, she pictured the horror on her parents’ faces when she told them that she was pregnant and that Joe wasn’t the father. The recriminations, the questions. Fearfully, she looked around her. What was that noise? To her dismay, she realised the strangled sounds were coming from her own mouth. A sob rose in her throat and burst from her lips, and she pressed the towel to her mouth to stifle the sounds as she fought for control.

  This was all Sean Devlin’s fault! What if she had not been getting married? She was in a state as it was, but what if she was single?

  Her mind baulked at the very idea, filling her with panic. Imagine her pregnant and him away in the middle of the ocean. Not that it would be much better once she admitted to Joe that she was pregnant, but at least she had a wedding ring on her finger, Mrs in front of her name, and she could hope that Joe would not broadcast her shame to all and sundry.

  Oh, dear God, help me, she begged. But how could she expect God to help her? Hadn’t she been wicked? Even if God in all His mercy had forgiven her, how could she expect Him to make Joe understand?

  With steps that dragged, she returned to the kitchen; she may as well get it over with.

  Joe watched her sit down, watched her clasp the mug of tea with both hands, as if seeking warmth, and asked gently, ‘Are you not feeling well, Rosaleen?’

  Lost in thought, trying to find words to confess her guilt, she jerked upright, sending tea dripping down her fingers on to the table.

  Immediately Joe was on his feet and around the table, bending over her full of concern. Taking the mug from her shaking hands, he gently dried them on a tea towel.

  ‘Is it something you ate, do you think?’ he asked, solicitously rubbing warmth into her cold hands; his eyes taking note of her lack of colour.

  Closing her eyes, Rosaleen forced the words into her mouth and out. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  She sat still, waiting for words of condemnation, perhaps a blow. God knows she deserved it. At last, unable to bear the silence any longer, she glanced up and her mouth dropped open in amazement. Instead of the look of horror she expected to see on Joe’s face, there was a look of bemused wonder.

  Even as she gaped at him, he reached for her, drawing her up into his arms, muttering, ‘Ah, Rosaleen, Rosaleen my love, you have just made me the happiest man in the world.’

  He sank his face into her hair, and she felt his tears soak through and wet her scalp. ‘I thought I wasn’t able … you know what I mean …’ His voice trailed off, then filled with awe. ‘And to discover that I am … why, it’s an answer to my prayers.’

  Bewildered, Rosaleen clung to him, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts. Surely Joe did not believe that his few futile attempts at making love had resulted in a pregnancy? He could not be so naive. Could he? Another stealthy glance at him showed her that he did indeed believe.

  It seemed her prayers were being answered too.

  Leading her into the living room, he made her sit down on the settee. ‘Put your feet up, love. There’ll be no work for you today. In fact, perhaps it would be better if you left work.’ He brushed the hair back from her brow and planted a tender kiss there. ‘What do you think?’

  Still in a daze, she answered him mechanically. ‘I would like to work on for a while. We could do with the money.’

  When she was settled with a rug over her legs and a cup of warm milk in her hand, he returned to the kitchen. Shouting in excitedly to her, making plans, as he washed the dishes. At last, after much fussing over her, he left for work.

  Glad to see him go, Rosaleen relaxed and set her mind to work on her problem. Should she tell Joe the truth? She must! Surely she must? She owed it to him. To let him rear another man’s child as his own would be a sin. One thing was sure: if she let him believe he was the father, her lips must be sealed forever.

  What if she was found out? But then, she couldn’t be found out. Only she, and she alone, knew the truth. No one would be able to blow the whistle on her; not even Sean. And, really, she would be doing Joe a good turn, wouldn’t she? Because it looked as if he would never father a child. But had she the right to make such a decision?

  Her thoughts whirled, making her head ache, and at last she could bear it no longer. Pushing the rug irritably away, she rose to her feet. For some moments she stood undecided; then she entered the bathroom and set the taps running in the bath, a determined look on her face. Her mind was made up. From now on, as far as she was concerned, this child she was carrying was Joe’s. As soon as she had bathed she would go up and break the news to her mother and then make an appointment to see the doctor. Thoughts of a laughing face with dark blue eyes flitted across her mind, but she pushed them resolutely away. These thoughts she was beginning to dwell on so often lately must stop.

  All of a sudden, against her will, she was blinded by tears as the memory of the night up at the Dam returned to haunt her. She could feel his arms around her, hear his declaration of love, and self-pity filled her. Lying in the bath, she wept long and hard for what might have been. Her only consolation was that she need never see Sean again. Need never know who he married or where he lived, and for this she was grateful.

  Thelma Magee eyed her daughter closely when, after a light tap on the kitchen door, she entered the room. The signs of weeping were well camouflaged but she saw them and her heart sank. It dismayed her to feel Rosaleen’s unrest, but what could she do? It would be wrong to interfere between husband and wife. Rosaleen had made her bed, now she must lie on it. Who would have thought that Joe would be found wanting? A big man like Joe? It was hard to believe.

  ‘This is a surprise,’ she cried. ‘Why are you not at work?’

  ‘I’ve some news for you, Mam. What do you think? I’m pregnant!’

  Relief floode
d through Thelma at her words. Everything must be all right; things must have sorted themselves out.

  Rosaleen felt the relief that radiated from her mother and smiled wryly. Her mother would be sure to think that pregnancy solved all her problems. How wrong she was. It only added to them.

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful, Rosaleen. Just wonderful. Wait ’til your da hears, it’ll be another excuse for a drink. As if he needs one.’

  ‘Ah, Mam, don’t. Me dad’s not that bad. Why, he only drinks at set times. In fact, I can’t remember seeing him really drunk, just happy.’

  ‘Humph!’ Thelma turned away, a cynical look on her face.

  Rosaleen couldn’t understand her mother’s attitude towards her father. Heaven knows he was always bending over backwards to please her, he lifted and laid her, but she never gave him credit for anything. He was such a quiet, inoffensive man, and was devoted to her mother, but still she was forever finding fault with him.

  Rosaleen eyed her mother covertly. Why, she was absolutely beaming. She was certainly pleased about the baby. She remembered the day she had plucked up the courage to ask her mother’s advice about her matrimonial problems. To her surprise, her mother had been more embarrassed than she. Bright red, she had refused to meet Rosaleen’s eye and had pleated her apron, pulled it apart and pleated it again, and again, making Rosaleen want to scream, and sorry that she had broached the subject at all. At last her mother had muttered, ‘That’s between you and him. It’s something you must work out between you. Because … well… ye see, I … really … I … I’ll make a cup of tea.’ And had sought refuge in the scullery. The conversation was never resumed.

  ‘When’s the baby due?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ve to see the doctor yet, but I imagine …’ Rosaleen paused, remembering in time that her mother knew that she and Joe were having trouble.

  ‘I think about June,’ she finished, adding on an extra month. Was this the beginning of a life of deceit?

  ‘Oh, that’s a lovely time. You’ll have the whole summer to get out and about. A summer baby gets a better start in life than a winter child, so it does. Ye know what I mean. It gets out in the sun an’ all. Our Annie’ll be glad. She dotes on kids, so she does.’

  ‘How’s her romance going?’

  ‘Oh, it’s still on. I’ve warned her, mind. He’ll never cross over this doorstep, I told her, but she’s stubborn, so she is. You’d think she could find herself a good Catholic boy. The Falls Road’s full of them. Somebody like Joe. That’s one thing about you, Rosaleen, you never gave me any sleepless nights. You never ran around with Protestants.’

  ‘George seems a nice lad, Mam.’

  ‘You’ve met him?’

  Her mother sounded so scandalised, Rosaleen laughed aloud.

  ‘Yes! And he didn’t bite me, and he didn’t have horns.’

  ‘Really, Rosaleen, I’m surprised at you, condonin’ her behaviour. You’re as bad as your da.’

  ‘Oh? Does me da not object?’

  ‘Hah! He keeps throwing every convert he knows in my face. A fat lot he knows. You’re better with your own sort, I told him. But then, of course, he would be prejudiced.’

  ‘Why? Why would he be prejudiced?’ Rosaleen asked, her look intent.

  Her mother grew flustered. ‘Well, ye know what I mean. He’s worked with Protestants all his life. He can see no harm in them.’

  ‘Mam …’

  It was on the tip of Rosaleen’s tongue to ask her mother why she had married her father, but when Thelma quirked a brow inquiringly at her, the words died.

  ‘Oh, nothing, just … about our Annie – don’t push her. If you leave her alone, I bet you she’ll stop dating George, but as sure as you nag her, George will seem more wonderful. We all go through these phases.’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘I know … I know … but times change. The young ones are more independent nowadays. Annie’s no fool. She’ll be all right!’

  The door was pushed open. Annie’s eyebrows raised at seeing Rosaleen. ‘Who’s taking my name in vain?’ she cried.

  ‘Nobody! What are you doin’ home?’

  With a discreet wink at Rosaleen, Annie solemnly answered her mother, ‘I’m meeting George. We’re going down to pick out an engagement ring.’

  ‘In the name of God, are you mad?’ Thelma rose from her chair in panic. ‘You’ll get out of this house, mind. Ye can pack your bags if you get engaged to that Prod.’

  ‘Mam! She’s only joking.’

  Rosaleen gave Annie a disapproving look. Fond as she was of her young sister, there were times when she wished that she would date Catholic boys. Her mother was right; there were plenty of young men on the Falls Road, but so far Annie had dated only Protestants.

  Now Annie grinned wickedly, and continued, ‘Did you hear that, Rosaleen? She’d put me out and I’d have to go and live on the Shankill Road – in sin.’

  Seeing her mother’s face blanch, Rosaleen sought to change the conversation.

  ‘Stop acting the fool, Annie. I’ve some good news. What do you think? I’m pregnant.’

  Annie’s mouth gaped slightly open and she gazed in wonder at Rosaleen. Then, nodding her head, she said: ‘I’m glad for you. Surprised, but glad.’

  Rosaleen gaped in amazement and cried, ‘What do you mean, surprised?’

  ‘Well, perhaps I shouldn’t say this … but I didn’t think Joe had it in him. I always thought he was a bit of a wimp.’

  Open-mouthed, Rosaleen sat in stunned silence, surprised at how perceptive this young sister of hers was. Just past seventeen and she was more worldly than Rosaleen would ever be.

  ‘Oh, listen to knowall. From the mouths of babes comes rubbish,’ Thelma cried in dismay. Annie was too forthright for her own good. What if Rosaleen took offence? ‘Why are you home?’ she asked again, to change the subject.

  ‘We’re on strike! We all walked out because Jean Morgan was given the sack for bad time-keeping.’

  ‘An’ you think they’ll take her back? You think ye can blackmail the firm?’ Thelma’s face fell in disbelief. ‘Sure, they could fill the factory ten times over, there’s so many stitchers out of work. You’d never get another job. You’re even dafter than I thought ye were, girl.’

  ‘Mam, you can’t let them get away with everything. Next time it might be me.’

  Hands on hips, Thelma challenged, ‘Why you? Eh? Tell me, why you? You’re not a bad time-keeper. You’re never off work. Why would they sack you?’

  ‘They would find some excuse. My face doesn’t fit.’

  ‘That’s because you can’t keep your big mouth shut!’ Thelma bawled. ‘Ye fight everybody’s battles, so ye do. You should mind your own business.’

  ‘Tut!’ Annie turned aside in disgust. It was no use telling her mother that Mr Benson didn’t like Catholics. ‘Anyhow, we’re going back in tomorrow. I think Benson will give her another chance. He’s too many orders in to do otherwise, but meanwhile we’ll have made our point. He’ll know that he can’t push us around.’

  Thelma opened her mouth to argue, but with a slight shake of her head, Rosaleen stopped her. In this mood Annie would only humour her mother so long, then there would be a blazing row.

  ‘Will Jean go back?’ she asked, seeking to ease the tension.

  ‘Oh, yes, I think so. Mind you, she’s been warned to pull up her socks, ’cause next time we won’t back her. She’ll be out for good.’

  With an apologetic smile, she placed a hand on Rosaleen’s shoulder and squeezed it. ‘I’m sorry about what I said just now about Joe. You know me. Speak first… think later. He’s a fine guy and I’m very fond of him. You know that, don’t you?’

  Rosaleen patted her hand and smiled, graciously receiving the olive branch.

  Later, when Rosaleen had departed, Thelma rounded on Annie.

  ‘Are you daft. Eh? That was a terrible thing to say. Joe’s a fine figure of a man, so he is. Imagine saying to someone’s face that their husba
nd’s a wimp …’ For some seconds words failed her. Then: ‘Rosaleen could’ve easily taken offence, girl.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Annie made placatory gestures with her hands. She sorely regretted her remarks. Would she ever learn to control her tongue? And now her mother was on her hobby horse … keeping her in line. ‘It was stupid of me, I admit! But luckily enough Rosaleen didn’t take umbrage, so there’s no harm done.’

  ‘Your big mouth will get ye into trouble one of these days, so it will. Even in work ye can’t keep it shut.’ Thelma glared at her. ‘What if you get the sack? Eh? If Benson gives you the push, don’t come t’me for sympathy. Do ye hear me? An’ if he doesn’t give you the push … keep yer big mouth shut in future!’

  With a grimace, Annie turned away and headed for the scullery; afraid to retaliate; afraid of starting a full-scale row. Her father would be home soon, and although a kindly man, he always sided with her mother. She hadn’t realized how much Rosaleen had shielded her from her mother’s sharp tongue until her sister had married and her comforting presence was withdrawn.

  Her mother’s voice followed her. ‘As for that Prod yer dating, don’t you ever dare bring him near this door …’

  To escape further recriminations, Annie carried on through the scullery and out into the yard, closing the door with a sharp decisive click. Drawing deep breaths of air into her lungs, she fought for control. If only her mother would try to understand her. She couldn’t help that she was different from Rosaleen, and the way her mother kept comparing them made her blood boil. All right, so she wasn’t as good-living as her sister. Could not get interested in a Catholic boy. It wasn’t from choice. Catholic boys just didn’t ask her out, whereas Protestants did. One thing she was sure of: she certainly didn’t want anyone like Joe for a husband! To her, he appeared a cold fish. Oh, he was kind, generous to a fault … Rosaleen wanted for nothing. Still, he never showed her any affection in public; no wee spontaneous kisses or hugs. No warm ‘I’m glad you’re mine’ looks. But perhaps he was different in private.