An Ocean Between Us

by Rachel Quinn

  ‘Oh heck, that doesn’t sound good, Aileen. That doesn’t sound good at all.’

  ‘I wish I could tell him Daddy already knows.’

  ‘And there’s no way of contacting him?’

  Aileen shook her head.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Well . . . you’ve been so good to me, Briana, and I thought . . . well, I was thinking . . .’

  A crooked smile drew itself on Briana’s face, and she nodded. ‘Ah, I get it now. You need my help.’

  ‘But I’ll owe you a favour in return.’

  Briana put an arm around her sister. ‘We’ll work something out, so we will.’

  Chapter 8

  Saturday morning came around sooner than Aileen expected, but she and Briana had agreed that they had to catch Niall before he reached the house. While the men were out, they would wait at the front door, and when the men were at home, they would wait along the road.

  That way they would warn Niall that their father already knew what he had come to tell him, and that he didn’t like it one bit.

  The plan worked well until the men arrived back from a hard morning’s work helping out at O’Dowd’s farm. Aileen and Briana were about to leave the house when their mother called them back. ‘The boys are starving,’ she said, ‘so we’ll be eating early today.’

  Both sisters said they weren’t hungry.

  ‘No matter,’ they were told. ‘There’ll be nothing more until tonight, so you’ll eat now, so you will.’

  ‘It’ll be half an hour,’ Briana whispered to Aileen. ‘What are the chances he’ll turn up in that time?’

  Aileen’s only reply was to give Briana a slightly anguished look.

  ‘What else can we do?’ Briana said. ‘Tell the truth?’

  A few minutes later the whole family sat down at the table.

  Aileen felt sick. The aroma of peat-toasted barmbrack and hot butter didn’t help, and as it turned out, she never got to taste it. Everyone heard the sound, the chug and rattle of the truck pulling up outside. But nobody spoke. They all stilled themselves and stared at the door. Aileen expected the knock but when it came it still jolted her.

  ‘Will that be who it sounds like?’ Aileen’s father said.

  ‘Who else do we know with a truck like that?’ Fergus replied.

  Daddy got to his feet. ‘Let me see who tis.’

  ‘No,’ Briana said. ‘I’ll go.’

  Daddy gave Aileen a barely disguised scowl, then said to Briana, ‘All right. If tis himself you can tell him to go away, that he’s no longer welcome here.’ He turned to Aileen. ‘And you. Go to your bedroom.’

  ‘Why?’ Aileen said.

  ‘Don’t disobey me, Aileen.’

  Aileen said nothing more, but huffed a breath and reluctantly headed for her room.

  Outside the front door of Sweeney Cottage, a nervous but optimistic Niall was about to knock at the door again when he heard footsteps from the other side. He pulled his jacket straight, flattened his hair with the palm of his hand, and cleared his throat.

  ‘Hello, Briana,’ he said, smiling. His smile quickly fell away. ‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Oh, Niall. Why did you do it?’

  ‘Do what?’ He tried to look beyond her but she pulled the door to. ‘Is Aileen in? I’d like to see her if that’s all right.’

  ‘It’s probably not for the best, Niall.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Aileen told everyone you’re joining the British Army.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Before Niall could say more, there was a shout of, ‘What’s happening?’ from behind Briana.

  ‘Is that your father?’ Niall said.

  ‘It bloody well is,’ came the reply, the angry-faced figure pushing Briana aside.

  Niall instinctively took half a pace backward. ‘Ah, Mr Sweeney,’ he said. ‘Is it all right if I see Aileen, please?’

  ‘No, it damn well isn’t, and what’s more it never will be. You’re not fit to utter my daughter’s name, and I can guarantee there’s no way you’re marrying her while I have two fists. Do you understand that?’

  Niall took a few seconds to compose his thoughts. ‘I gather you know about me joining the British Army.’

  ‘That’s right. And you can gather this too. You’re a traitor to your country and you can just stay away from my family and stay away from my house.’

  As he took a step toward Niall, Briana moved between them and grabbed Niall by the arm. ‘You’d better go, Niall. Please.’

  ‘But . . .’ Niall stared at her, then at her father.

  ‘I’d take my daughter’s advice if I were you,’ he growled.

  ‘Daddy, go inside.’

  ‘Shut up, Briana. I’ll not take orders from my own daughter.’

  ‘I’m only asking, Daddy. Please. We don’t want a fight. I’ll make sure Niall goes away if you just get inside and let me talk to him.’

  After a few heavy breaths and a spit on the ground, Mr Sweeney gave in and the door slammed shut.

  ‘Just go,’ Briana said to Niall.

  ‘Why should I?’ he said, breathing heavily. There was no reply, and although he took his time, after a minute or two he traipsed back to the truck, Briana following.

  ‘At least tell me how she is,’ he said.

  ‘She’s upset, no thanks to you.’

  ‘I’m not giving up on her, you know.’

  Briana glanced back to the cottage and lowered her voice. ‘For what it’s worth, Niall, I hope you don’t.’

  ‘Thank you. Tell her if she wants to see me before I go, I’ll be at Amiens Street Station next Saturday. I’ll be there early on Saturday morning and I’ll wait for her until my train leaves.’

  ‘We’ll see. Now go, before you get yourself lynched.’

  Niall jumped into the truck, took a final look at the cottage, and drove off.

  Briana went back inside and the meal continued, but words were limited to the necessary, with nothing approaching what could be called conversation.

  After the meal, Aileen and Briana went for a walk. And they talked. They agreed that this time their plan would have to be better.

  The evening meal continued where the previous one had left off, with little or no conversation. After the food had been dished out and grace had been said, the only sounds were the tap of cutlery on crockery and the occasional cough or slurp.

  Toward the end, Briana asked Aileen to pass her the salt. She did, and as Briana took it she made a point of grabbing Aileen’s hand and examining it.

  ‘Your ring,’ she said. ‘What’s happened to your engagement ring?’

  ‘In the sea,’ Aileen said, snapping the words out. She scanned the faces looking in her direction. ‘I threw it in the sea. Is everyone happy now?’

  Briana pulled a sullen face. ‘Are you sure you should have done that?’

  Aileen didn’t reply, but kept her eyes low and carried on eating.

  Their father cleared his throat. ‘Is that true, Aileen?’

  ‘What do you think?’ she replied without even looking at him.

  ‘I’ll ignore your insolence,’ he said, ‘but that’s good.’ He reached for a slice of bread and started wiping it around the edges of his plate.

  ‘Good?’ Fergus said. ‘Sure, it might have been worth something. She could have taken it to Dublin and sold it.’ He put a chunk of potato into his mouth, then spoke again. ‘Ah, no,’ he said. ‘Twas probably worthless, just like the rotten man who gave it to her.’

  Aileen dropped her knife and fork, which clattered on her plate, throwing spatters of potato and gravy on to the table. She stood up, kicked her chair back and headed for the bedroom.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother lean over to Fergus and raise her hand. She heard the crack of hand on skull, followed by a yelp from Fergus.

  The next few days were tense ones. At mealtimes – or even in between them – there was very
little in the way of conversation among the Sweeney family members. And hardly a word was spoken while Aileen was around.

  Her mother spoke the most to her, her father hardly at all. Fergus and Gerard spoke about her, although never using her name.

  Frank hadn’t spoken at all – not one word in three days – and so the next morning, when Briana was alone in the house with her mother, she said she was worried about the ‘poor little lad’.

  ‘Aach, he’ll be all right,’ her mother replied.

  ‘I’m not so certain,’ Briana insisted.

  ‘Sure, he’s at a funny age.’

  ‘Oh, I know that. But . . .’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Well, what with the funny age he is, don’t you think the last thing he wants is to have all this trouble around him, to have to listen to arguments all the time.’

  Her mother went to speak, but instead thought for a moment as she nodded her head, weighing Briana’s comment up before speaking. ‘Sure, he’ll be grand given time,’ she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  ‘But Mammy, you have to admit the atmosphere is awful tense these last few days.’

  Her mother gave her a suspicious look. ‘Ah, well, there’s nothing that can be done about that, is there?’

  ‘Ah, I don’t know, Mammy. I suppose . . . well, no, tis too much trouble.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No, tis only an idea. Well, more of a thought. I was just wondering . . .’

  ‘Spit it out, girl.’

  ‘It’s just . . . I haven’t seen Cathleen or James for months. Twould be grand to go up to Dublin. I could take Aileen too, give her a break from the house.’

  Her mother stared into space for a moment. ‘I suppose it might help. Mmm . . . twould calm the waters a little, I’d say.’

  ‘Just what I was thinking, Mammy. And it would give you and the boys some breathing space, let you get things back to normal.’

  ‘Aye.’ She nodded, slowly at first, then faster. ‘Aye, right. Tis a grand idea. You can go up tomorrow.’

  ‘Right. Tomorrow it is. We can—’ Briana stopped herself. ‘Ah, no. For one thing, I really want my best clothes and they’re not washed and ironed. For another, Cathleen and James will be working tomorrow.’

  ‘Mmm . . . So why don’t you go on Saturday?’

  ‘You think that would be best?’

  ‘Of course. And that’s the day your father and your brothers are most likely to be cluttering up the house, shuffling around and moaning like they do.’

  ‘Right,’ Briana said. ‘Saturday it is.’

  It was overcast when the train pulled out of Leetown Station early on Saturday morning. Aileen and Briana, sitting opposite each other, said nothing until the edge of the village was out of view, when the sun started to glint off the window as if the train had just come out of a tunnel.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe now?’ Aileen said.

  ‘Twas safe as soon as we got on to the train,’ Briana replied.

  Aileen gave her shoulders a gleeful shrug. A smile she’d kept locked away for days appeared on her face as she opened her handbag. Moments later the engagement ring was back on her finger. Where it belonged. She held her hand out so the emerald caught the sunlight now streaming through the window.

  ‘Briana,’ she said. ‘I just—’

  ‘And don’t be going thanking me again, ye daft thing.’ Briana allowed herself a smirk. ‘Anyway, twas easy. The hardest part was getting little Frank to stay quiet about it. I had to buy him another whole bottle of lemonade, the greedy thing.’

  ‘Aren’t you the conniving sort.’

  Briana widened her eyes. ‘And aren’t you a pot calling a kettle black.’

  The two of them shared a giggle, and Aileen carried on admiring her ring while Briana watched the countryside of Wicklow race by, neither of them speaking for another few minutes. Then Briana said, ‘Ah, go on then,’ and leaned forward to take another look at the ring. ‘Oh heck, it is beautiful, I’ll give you that. I’ve never seen such a bright green in a stone before. Tis as if it’s throwing out its own light. You’re a very lucky woman, Aileen.’

  To Aileen, the rest of the train journey seemed to last as long as one of Father Kinross’s legendary sermons, although whenever she glanced across she got the impression Briana was enjoying the ride and could have happily sat there for hours.

  But eventually the train pulled into Amiens Street Station, and Aileen’s foot was the first to hit the platform. Her eyes darted around the station concourse, then fell on a group of men she vaguely recognized. Yes, those two were the same she’d seen with Niall the first time they’d met. She started running and the one with his back to her turned.

  He caught her and spun her around. It was becoming a habit, and as addictive as a fairground ride. Except that this time it felt like the last ride of the day. Aileen’s feet hit the ground and she felt his hand slip behind her neck again, as if he knew what to do. She felt his fingertips dance on the baby hair at the top of her neck, and it was still delicious.

  But there was something else. A mix of fear and confusion on his face.

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

  But there was, she could tell. She waited, staring him out.

  ‘I have an hour. I mean, we have an hour.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Aileen. My pals all wanted to go earlier. I persuaded them we should catch a later train so I could have some time with you.’

  Aileen glanced behind him. Yes, that one was Kevan; the other two, she didn’t know. But they all nodded politely and said hello. She said hello back and half-heartedly thanked them for staying later.

  Then a flustered Briana arrived.

  ‘We only have an hour,’ Aileen told her.

  Briana greeted the others, then said, ‘Well, I’d suggest you get going while I busy myself looking around the shops. I’ll meet you here in an hour and we’ll go to see Cathleen.’

  Ten minutes later Aileen and Niall were strolling along the north bank of the Liffey. They talked of what they were going to do when Niall returned, the sort of house they were going to live in, how they would both work before starting a family, and whether they would live in Leetown or elsewhere in Wicklow or even in another country entirely. There was no talk of arguments or what to do about Aileen’s family or of her father’s opinions. For an hour those problems were a world away.

  Whenever they passed a clock – be it outside a jewellers or coffee shop, or on the frontage of a public building – Aileen stared and willed the time to slow down or stop. The train journey had taken an age, the minutes languidly strolling by, but this was the opposite. There was a falseness to their conversation because the time was racing by so quickly. They talked as if there were no problems and they lived in paradise. The truth was that her family might never accept him, that they had very little money, and most of all . . . the biggest thing . . .

  She could forget all those minor problems for Niall’s sake, but not that biggest thing. She was no educated woman but she knew this was a war – a horrible, bloody war that many soldiers wouldn’t return from. Yes, that was the biggest problem of all. He could easily return wounded and not in a fit state to work or be a father. Or even worse.

  No. She had to cut down that falseness. She had to plead with him one more time to see sense, to stay out of the war.

  She pulled his arm so they stopped walking, and stepped in front of him. ‘Listen to me, Niall.’

  He smiled, sadness apparent in his eyes, but said nothing.

  Aileen took a breath but struggled to phrase the sentence. It didn’t sound right. She could say, What am I going to do if you don’t return? But would that help? Was that the right thing to say in their final ten minutes together?

  ‘Listen,’ she eventually said. ‘I have something to say.’

  His hand rose to her head and he pushed his fingers throug
h her hair. ‘I’d listen to you all day long if I could, Aileen, and one day I will. I promise.’

  Her throat stalled, the words caught in a tug of war.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  She threw her head on to his chest and her arms around his waist. ‘Niall O’Rourke. Just promise me you’ll look after yourself and come back in one piece.’

  She felt his warming embrace. And she felt she would be safe and at peace – for another ten minutes at least.

  ‘I’ll certainly try my best,’ he whispered.

  ‘And write.’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘I mean, write to me. You’ll be able to write, won’t you? They’ll have pencils and paper, won’t they? They’ll let you—’

  ‘Shh,’ he said. ‘I’ll write. Of course I will. And when I tell you my service number you’ll be able to write back. And even if I can’t write for some time, remember that I love you and I won’t stop loving you, no matter where they send me.’ She felt his solid arms squeeze her, almost crushing the breath out of her chest. And it was the most wonderful feeling.

  Then he spoke like a child. ‘Bloody hell, Aileen, I’m going to miss you.’

  ‘I’ll be here,’ she whispered back. ‘I’ll wait for you forever, if that’s how long it takes.’

  The remaining few minutes went by in a blink, and before Aileen knew what was happening she’d waved Niall goodbye, his Belfast train had pulled out, and she was walking toward Cathleen’s place with Briana.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Briana said quietly. ‘It was a shame it was only for an hour, but at least you saw him before he left.’

  Aileen didn’t reply. Her head was muggy with confusion. There had been a brief exhilaration at seeing Niall again, but also a clear grief that resisted attempts to be talked away. She was now on her own. The man she loved was going to war, and only the Lord knew when he would return. It could be many months, or even years.

  And, of course, there was a chance he wouldn’t return at all.

  She had no idea how she would cope with Niall’s absence, but she knew she would have to. For the first time since she’d waved Niall goodbye she glanced at Briana.