An Ocean Between Us

by Rachel Quinn

  Marvin started laughing and shook his head a few times.

  ‘What’s funny?’

  He looked down, his fingers playing with his cap for a second or two. ‘It’s just strange. I remember you saying we were two people from very different parts of the world. It’s just, well, it seems like we have quite a lot in common after all.’

  They stood there, neither speaking for a few moments.

  ‘C’mon,’ Aileen said eventually, ‘I should be getting home.’

  But Marvin didn’t seem to want to move. ‘You know . . .’ He hesitated, swaying his head from side to side.

  ‘What?’ Aileen said. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well . . . I’m starting to think we got off on the wrong foot before. And I completely accept that you’re promised to another man. I just wondered whether . . .’

  ‘Whether what?’

  ‘You see, there’s a swing band playing at one of the concert halls next Saturday night. I was going to go, but I didn’t like the idea of going on my own. I wondered whether . . .’

  Aileen was already shaking her head.

  ‘I mean purely as friends, you understand. Just company, two people who happen to be music lovers.’

  ‘Not really, Marvin.’

  ‘I’d pay for everything and I wouldn’t expect anything in return. Really.’

  Aileen stood and thought.

  ‘Hey, perhaps I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Just the two of us?’ Aileen shook her head again. ‘I think people might talk.’

  Marvin nodded toward a striking gap in the row of houses some distance ahead of them, where a mound of rubble spewed out on to the street. ‘I could be wrong, but I’d say people around here have more important things to worry about. And if they haven’t, they darned well should.’

  Aileen started walking on and Marvin followed.

  ‘Just as friends?’ Aileen said.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I can’t see why not.’

  Marvin jerked upright. ‘So is that a yes?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Hey, that’s just swell. I guess I’ll pick you up around seven, if that’s okay?’

  Aileen nodded. ‘That’ll be grand.’

  Chapter 16

  Aileen spent the next few days convincing herself that she would be doing nothing wrong in going to the concert with Marvin. They were friends and only friends, and she deserved a night out. Telling Mrs McDonald what she was doing was easier than she expected, with just a little pursing of the lips to show disapproval.

  When Aileen got home from work on Saturday there was another letter on her pillow. She felt awkward, as though bees rather than butterflies had taken occupancy of her stomach. She told herself again that she was doing no wrong, and hurriedly ripped open the envelope.

  2 April 1944

  My dearest Aileen,

  Just a quick note to tell you that I might have some news to tell you soon. I don’t say ‘good news’ because the circumstances are unfortunate.

  I’ve applied for leave to come back home because I’ve received word that my ma has been taken ill. She’s had a few too many giddy turns and the doctor says her heart is weak and she has to get more rest. I’m only glad I send my money to her and she could afford a doctor when many aren’t so lucky. Of course, if I’m granted leave I plan to visit you too, depending, of course, on what happens to Ma.

  Progress with my leg is still good. I have not tried the running I mentioned yet, but those crutches that were my best friends for a while are now long-lost relatives, and the doctor says I’m doing well.

  I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything about the leave. I can’t wait to see you again. As always, I miss you.

  Your loving fiancé,

  Niall.

  P.S. I’m sorry if this letter sounds a bit miserable. There was something else I didn’t know whether to tell you, but here goes. Do you remember Neville? The fellow in the next bed when I was in the hospital? We started to become good pals, and I visited him as often as I could after I got out. He’s Scottish and has no relatives nearby so I thought I’d be good company. Last week I went in and his bed was empty. At first I was pleased because I thought he must have got out. He did, in a manner of speaking. He got blood poisoning and passed on. At least he’s no longer in pain.

  As always, Aileen read the letter twice more. This time it was different. She didn’t get a warm feeling inside, but instead was conscious of the time and of Marvin, who would be at this very moment on his way to Kingdom Avenue.

  She had never been one for dithering. Not until now. It seemed disrespectful to go out enjoying herself after receiving this particular letter.

  Then again, it had been planned many days ago. So no. She would try to lock away any feelings of guilt, and she would go out with Marvin and try to enjoy herself. Niall would want that.

  A dutiful five minutes before seven there was a knock at the door. Aileen hurried downstairs to open it. This time there were no flowers, and there was no flattery – humorous or otherwise.

  ‘Are you okay, Aileen?’ Marvin said. ‘You don’t look so well.’

  ‘I’m not, to tell you the truth.’

  Marvin’s brow shrank a little more. ‘You wanna call it off ? That’s not a problem, really.’

  ‘And you’ll go to the concert on your own?’

  ‘Uh . . . yeah. I’ll go on my own. I don’t mind.’

  ‘But you won’t go, will you?’

  He stood, hands fidgeting, clearly unsure how to answer. ‘Uh . . . no,’ he eventually muttered. ‘But really, I don’t mind. Did you get some bad news?’

  ‘I . . . ah . . . I got a letter from Niall. He’s grand, but the letter was a bit upsetting.’

  ‘I see.’ Marvin nodded gravely. ‘Look, tell me to mind my own business, but I know a bar that’s quiet. If you want, we could talk. I mean, you could tell me about the letter. I am in the Forces. I know what happens.’

  ‘And have you ever had someone you know get killed?’ As soon as the words were out, Aileen saw a shaft of pain crack Marvin’s face. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘that was a horrible question. Ignore me.’

  ‘No, no. It’s fine. But you might as well know something.’ He gulped and drew breath. ‘I had a brother in the army, name of Earl. Now I don’t.’ He went to speak again, but struggled to control himself, his cheeks reddening and one hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

  Aileen laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t say any more, not just yet.’ She grabbed her coat from the coat stand. ‘C’mon, let’s go. Sounds like we could both do with a little enjoyment to take our minds off things.’

  ‘The concert?’

  ‘Yes. Let’s forget about our troubles.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s not going to harm anyone, is it?’

  So they went to the concert, and Aileen enjoyed it so much that they returned the following Saturday. On that occasion Marvin told Aileen more about Upstate New York, about the family farm in the small town overlooking the Hudson River, and about how the men would go into what they called the ‘Wilderness’ on hunting expeditions. Aileen could hardly compete with that, but when coaxed described the lakes, forests and craggy landscapes that made up the Wicklow Mountains.

  Aileen was asked to, and accepted, invitations to a third and fourth concert. It was just before that fourth concert that Niall’s next letter arrived. Aileen had been asking Mrs McDonald every few days throughout that time whether there had been a letter for her, because for Niall to take three weeks to write again was rare, and – though Aileen never admitted it openly – a little disappointing.

  When it did come, Aileen’s disappointment quickly turned to confusion.

  22 April 1944

  My dearest Aileen,

  This is a real hard letter to write. I have some bad news. They tell me all leave has been cancelled, and they can’t tell me why. I suppose now I am almost back to full s
trength and fitness they are wanting to send me somewhere.

  In all fairness it’s what I’m here to do, and I have to say I feel so much better physically. I can run for miles and my leg feels like there was never anything wrong with it, so I shouldn’t grumble. But I was upset about the leave being cancelled. That’s why I haven’t written in a while, because I didn’t know how to break the news to you and I suppose I was hoping they might change their minds – that there might be some major change in the war and they would let me come back. I found out a little more about what’s going on back home too. Some of Ma’s neighbours won’t speak to her anymore because they found out I’ve joined the British Army. That seems awful spiteful of them because it was me who joined up, not her. The only good news is that she’s feeling a little better, thanks to the rest she’s getting and due to some medicine the doctor is making her take.

  Aileen, don’t think that any of that means I don’t think of you. You are constantly in my thoughts and I want to promise you that one day we’ll be together. We’ll get married, I give you my word. I’m sorry this letter is so short. I really haven’t much more to tell you as I don’t know what’s happening, except that it feels like it will be important, and we’re spending a lot of time doing exercises.

  I miss you so much.

  Your loving fiancé,

  Niall.

  For the next few Saturday evenings Marvin would pick Aileen up and the pair would go to the cinema, or perhaps attend a concert, and once went to see a play that neither of them understood the point of but both laughed at afterward.

  Marvin was true to his word about behaving, as he put it, like a gentleman, but what he and Aileen lacked in physical contact they more than made up for in conversation. She didn’t talk about Niall’s letters and he didn’t talk about his brother, but they talked about the concert or the movie, about other movies Aileen and Marvin had seen – eight in Aileen’s case and ‘more than I can remember’ in Marvin’s. Marvin also talked about his family back home, and Aileen got the impression he really missed them but didn’t want to admit it.

  On the last Saturday in May, however, things were different. Marvin picked her up as usual, but let Aileen do all the talking on the walk into town. She obliged, out of nervousness more than any desire to control the conversation. They both knew – the whole of Belfast knew – that a cloud was descending, and silence would have only added to the dour atmosphere.

  Aileen had heard the rumours that something important was about to happen, and Niall’s letters made the rumours more believable. She’d also heard that General Eisenhower had recently visited Belfast to inspect the Forces and to witness what the wireless called ‘an armada of ships’ berthed in Belfast Lough. Aileen followed the goings-on in Europe as closely as the wireless broadcasts allowed, and there seemed a mood that a tide was about to turn, and that the Forces were going to try to capitalize on recent successful battles.

  Aileen told Marvin she wanted to see Casablanca, even though Marvin had told her weeks before he’d already seen it (and had told her what happened). But Marvin kindly checked the newspapers only to find out it wasn’t being shown. Instead, they went to see The Philadelphia Story, with Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and James Stewart all at the top of their comedy game. Aileen was enthused, as she always was by movies, but Marvin hardly reacted throughout the screening. On the way out, when Aileen asked Marvin whether he’d ever been to Philadelphia, he merely shook his head blankly. And when she commented over a drink afterward that she thought Katharine Hepburn’s performance was the best she’d ever seen, he was distant and not at all talkative.

  ‘What did you think?’ Aileen asked.

  ‘Huh?’ he said.

  ‘What did you think of the film? Of Katharine Hepburn’s acting?’

  ‘Oh, I . . . uh . . . I enjoyed it.’ He nodded encouragingly. ‘It was good.’

  She searched his face for clues. ‘Are you all right, Marvin?’

  ‘Oh, sure.’

  ‘Were you wanting to go to a concert instead?’

  At first he smiled and shook his head, but the smile fell away and his face spoke of trouble – his mouth flat and his forehead heavy. ‘It’s nothing like that,’ he said. ‘But . . . actually, no, I’m not all right.’

  Aileen said nothing to fill the silence, but waited.

  ‘We leave soon,’ he said, then sighed as though those three words explained it all.

  ‘What . . . what d’you mean? Leave for where?’

  He shrugged, his shoulders slow to return. ‘We don’t get to know that. We’ve been told we sail in the week. I guess they might tell us more in the next few days, but then again they might not. What they have said is that this will be our last weekend in Belfast.’

  ‘Oh.’ Aileen gulped. She reached out across the table and laid her hand on top of Marvin’s. She felt a tremble – her hand or his, she wasn’t sure.

  ‘Shouldn’t come as a great surprise,’ he said, smiling sadly. ‘We gotta push into occupied territory sometime, and we need ships to get our guys there. It’s what I’m in the navy for.’

  ‘So . . . will I see you again?’

  ‘Guess that depends on what Adolf and his pals have in store for us.’ Now he held her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘But I certainly hope so.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Marvin,’ she muttered.

  The words caused him to widen his eyes in shock.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Just something I picked up from the women at the factory.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed these past couple of months, Marvin – well, the Saturdays at least. I spend all week looking forward to our Saturday evening.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I . . . I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘Hey, that means a lot to me, Aileen. More than you know.’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and leaned forward, both forearms on the table between them. ‘And there’s something else I wanted to say to you.’

  ‘You know you can tell me anything, Marvin.’

  He lowered his voice. ‘Well, this is something you might not like. It’s . . . well . . . I’ve really enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you. You say you’ve always looked forward to our Saturdays, but you can’t begin to imagine what they’ve meant to me. The only thing I didn’t like – I hated, in fact – is the deceit, the idea that we’re only friends.’

  ‘Oh, but Marvin, we’ve talked about this.’

  He nodded and held up a hand to silence her. ‘I know, I know. But please, don’t get yourself worked up about it. I’m just a lovestruck old fool, and you must know I’d prefer it this way than not to see you at all. As I’ve always told you, you have Niall, and I . . . I accept the situation.’ He paused for a long breath. ‘But wherever I’m going, you know there’s a chance I might not return, don’t you?’

  ‘Don’t say that, Marvin.’ Aileen felt tears welling up, her vision starting to blur, her voice cracking.

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Hey, hey, hey. Don’t upset yourself. I told you. I’m resigned to the way things are between us. I just wanted you to know, in case I don’t come back, that I’m in love with you and I have been from the moment I set eyes on you because you’re a remarkably attractive woman and a lovely, strong person. I just wanted to wish you all the best in life. While I still can.’

  Aileen could only stare at him, her jaw lifeless. Then she started crying.

  Marvin got out a handkerchief and handed it to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I know this isn’t what you want to hear. But it’s the truth, and I felt I had to say something or go out of my mind.’

  Neither of them spoke for a few minutes while Aileen stemmed the flow of tears.

  ‘This really isn’t like you,’ Marvin eventually said.

  ‘I know. I’m strong.’ Aileen sniffed. ‘You said so, so it must be true.’

  He smiled, although he was clearly struggling to reach for a beacon of happiness through a fog of sadness.

  ‘Ah, Marvin.
You just bring the sentimental eejit out in me, so ye do.’

  Marvin’s smile grew, and Aileen started laughing even as she was wiping her eyes dry.

  ‘Oh, I reckon if anyone’s the “eejit”, it’s me.’ He laughed too until they both stopped, then asked if she was feeling better.

  She nodded. ‘Would you mind walking me home now?’

  Without a word, he got up and held her coat out for her.

  ‘I feel scared for you,’ Aileen said a few minutes later as they crossed the road.

  ‘Well, don’t. I feel scared enough for myself. But hey, it’s a war. There’s no rule book.’

  They talked some more about when the war might end, although neither of them had any sensible answer. It had already lasted five long years, with too many losses on all sides. There had been so many confident predictions by experts and drunken old men alike, first that the war would be over before the end of 1940, then that it wouldn’t last until 1942. But now, with the summer of 1944 upon them, people were beginning to think it might just go on forever.

  They reached 22 Kingdom Avenue.

  ‘I guess this is it then,’ Marvin said.

  ‘A bit like Casablanca,’ Aileen muttered.

  ‘You haven’t seen it, if you remember.’

  ‘But you told me what happened, if you remember. You spoilt it for me really.’ She laughed. But he didn’t. She laid a hand on his arm, gently caressing. ‘Marvin, I have to thank you for everything. You’re a lovely man. One day you’ll make some lucky woman a grand husband, so you will.’

  He nodded, his eyes now glassy, and whispered, ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You’ll have to come down to Leetown when you get back, when the war’s . . . you know. You could meet the family, my mammy and Briana.’

  ‘I’d really like that.’

  ‘You’d like Briana.’

  He nodded. Aileen saw fear and regret in his eyes. His hand came toward her and started caressing her hair. And then, before she could think, his face was in front of hers. There was still time to react, to pull away, but she didn’t.

  And then the taste of beer and chewing gum hit her lips. It was a flavour she had never thought in a million years she would find pleasant, but for just a second it was one she wanted to bottle and keep. She felt his hand drift down, dipping under her hair and on to the back of her neck. He was as gentle as a kitten, but still he held her close, and she felt no urge to do anything other than be there for him, to let him kiss her for as long as he wanted to.