Sarah Love

by Geraldine O'Neill

“What does he do?” Harriet asked.

  “He’s a building supplier. It’s a family business – McGuire’s Concrete – his father started it when he came over from Dublin years ago. They have an office in Newcastle and another in Manchester that David’s eldest brother runs.” She looked over at David and smiled. “David took after the Frasers – my side of the family – they’re the ones who are all about books, especially my brother Brian. This fellow is the very same as him. When he was young, the house could have fallen down and you’d find David under the rubble still reading a book.”

  “Enough!” David said. “The next thing you’ll be bringing out pictures of me lying on a cushion with no clothes.” He looked at the girls solemnly. “I was only six months old and didn’t know what I was getting into.”

  His mother put her arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. “And you’re still my little baby!”

  “Girls,” David said, laughing and struggling out of her embrace, “what can I get you?” He gestured towards a dark wood drinks trolley. “Have a look and see what takes your fancy.”

  “There’s some white wine in the fridge as well if the girls would like that,” his mother said.

  “That would be lovely,” Harriet said.

  Sarah smiled in agreement.

  “I’ll go and open it now along with a bottle of red for my granddad,” David said.

  Sarah looked over at Harriet now. Her eyes were shining – she was obviously enjoying herself – and Sarah was glad she had thought of bringing her. If she had come on her own, David’s family might have assumed they were more than just friends, and she was delighted to see how well he and Harriet were getting on.

  The talk turned to Christmas and all the presents the children in the family had received, which made Sarah think of the gift David had given her. She asked where the ladies’ was and was told there was one down at the bottom of the hallway, so she excused herself. She went straight to the kitchen.

  “David,” she said, coming in and closing the door behind her, “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

  He turned towards her. “Did you like it?”

  “It’s lovely,” she said. “It was thoughtful of you – the fact that it was in Gaelic. My Irish is a bit rusty, so I must get my brother to post over my Irish into English dictionary so I can read it properly.”

  He looked pleased now. “Obviously I couldn’t understand a word of it. But I just thought it was the sort of thing you would like to remind you of home.”

  “I was just thinking,” she said, directing her gaze towards the window, “that it might be best not to say anything to Harriet about it. She might get the wrong idea . . .”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a book of love poems.”

  “Is it?”

  Sarah couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t know. “Well, yes . . .” She looked at him now and raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I wasn’t suggesting that you were giving it to me because of anything like that – I know we’re just friends. It’s just that Harriet might ask to see it, and I would feel awkward. She didn’t say anything about you giving her a Christmas present, and you’ve known her far longer than you’ve known me.”

  Sarah noticed that his face was flushing. It was the first time she had ever seen him anything but cocky and confident.

  “I’ve only ever known Harriet to speak to in passing,” he said quietly, “and it would have looked odd to give her a present out of the blue. I see you every day because we work across the lane from each other. I wasn’t planning on buying you anything and then I happened to see the book in the shop.”

  Sarah nodded. “Well . . . it was very nice of you, but we’ll just keep it between ourselves.”

  He looked at her and she could see comprehension dawning in his eyes. “Is this what it’s all about – Harriet? Is she the reason you won’t come out with me to the cinema or go to a dance?”

  “David,” Sarah said, “I don’t want to go out with you or anyone. My work is more than enough for me.” She stopped then as she heard the front doorbell ring and then heard it opening.

  “Okay,” he said. He turned away to concentrate on the bottle of wine he was pouring.

  She hesitated. “I don’t want this to cause awkwardness between us. I’d like us still to be friends.”

  He gave her a wink. “Of course we will.”

  Pat Wood – David’s sister arrived with her five-year-old daughter, Jessica – and the noise level in the house increased as everyone chatted. David brought around glasses of sherry and wine for the girls and Mrs McGuire had a whiskey with dry ginger. When David’s grandparent’s arrived, the noise increased further as the girls were introduced to the very fine-looking, white-haired couple who both still had strong Dublin accents.

  They immediately launched into a series of questions asking Sarah exactly where she was from and if she knew this one or that one from Tullamore. Sarah had to tell them – with some relief – that she didn’t know any of the names they mentioned.

  “Ah, they’re probably all dead and gone now anyway,” Jim McGuire said shrugging. He turned to Harriet. “And are you a seamstress as well?”

  “No, no, I’m a nurse – a District Nurse,” she told him.

  Sarah felt her heart sink a little as she realised David had obviously never mentioned Harriet to any of his family, and she wondered if the nurse had noticed.

  David’s grandmother, Nora, took Sarah’s hand and brought her over to sit on the sofa over by the window.

  “I don’t hear too well when there’s a crowd,” she said, “and we can chat here easier away from the noise.” She went on to tell Sarah about a special job she would like doing. “It’s for Pat, you see,” she explained. “I don’t know if David’s told you but she’s expecting another little one in the summer. Well, we use the same christening gown that we’ve had in the family for years, but unfortunately . . .” She looked around to check no one else could hear. “Poor Amanda – David’s sister-in-law – was the last one to use it last year when little Charlotte was christened – and unfortunately she had an accident with it. She wanted to give it back to me in perfect condition and went to the trouble of hand-washing it.” She sighed and shook her head. “Then she thought she would press it all neat for me and that’s when she caught it with the point of the iron and some of the fine lace got stuck to the bottom of it.”

  “Oh, no!” Sarah said. “That’s so easily done with lace.”

  “You can imagine how the poor girl felt.”

  “Do you have it with you?” Sarah asked.

  “No, because I haven’t told anyone. You know how families can be, and I don’t want poor Amanda feeling bad about it.” She leaned in closer. “I’ll give it to David and he’ll bring it in to you in the shop. He won’t say a word – you can trust David with anything.” She tilted her head to the side. “Did you like your book?”

  Sarah looked at her. “My book?”

  “The Irish poetry book he gave you.”

  Sarah’s face flushed. “Oh, yes,” she said, “it was lovely.”

  “He really likes you, you know.”

  There was a sound at the door and Sarah whirled around to see little Jessica come running in after a ball. She turned back. “But we’re only friends,” she said. Someone else came in to get the child, so she kept her voice low until they went back out.

  Nora McGuire raised her brows. “Well, he thinks more of you than a friend. He’s a good lad – and a decent lad.” She leaned forward, and tapped her finger on the coffee table. “Now, I’m speaking plainly to you as one Irishwoman to another – and because I like you. A hard-working girl like you would be very silly to pass up a fellow like that. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance of him.” She thumbed out in the direction of the hall. “Your friend, the nurse, wouldn’t be so slow. She can see he’d make a fine husband.”

  Sarah could now feel the resentment she had felt with Lucy t
he other night begin to simmer. Did she really come across as some timid little mouse in desperate need of a husband? She swallowed the feelings back because the elderly woman meant well and she didn’t want to offend her. “David hardly knows me. I’ve only been in Newcastle a few months and I’m still finding my feet.”

  “Well, don’t go missing the boat,” Nora McGuire warned. “Because he’s been offered the chance of a big job down in London and he’s turned it down because of you.”

  Sarah’s face blanched at the news. “Because of me?” She shook her head. “That’s madness! I’ve never given him any encouragement. Surely he can’t turn down a job because of me!”

  “Well, I think he’s hanging on for a while longer. He knows if he goes to London then that will be the end of it.”

  Sarah bit her lip. “Has he actually said all this to you?”

  “Well, not as such, pet, but you’d know by the look on his face when he’s talking about you.”

  There was a pause and Sarah took the chance to stand up. “I should get back in . . .”

  “Hold your horses! Sit yourself back down,” Nora said, putting a hand on Sarah’s arm. “I’ve one more thing to say – just so you know the kind of man you’re snubbing. You know the book he gave you?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Well, I have the exact same one at home that his grandfather gave me as an anniversary present years ago. And since he was a young lad, David used to listen to him reading the poetry out in Irish.” She smiled. “Jim still reads the book regularly to keep his hand in.”

  “But David told me that he came across it by chance amongst the second-hand books in the shop – he even pretended he didn’t know they were love poems.”

  “Oh, he told me it turned up by chance too,” Nora said. “But my guess is he went looking for it. It’s not a book you’d pick up too handy. One of his uncles on his mother’s side has several bookshops down in London, and he told me at a wedding recently that he’s never come across that book.” She looked at Sarah. “A lad doesn’t give you books of love poetry without it meaning something.”

  The door creaked again and when Sarah turned around she saw Harriet framed in the doorway. Her face told Sarah that she had overheard them.

  * * *

  For the rest of the visit, Sarah kept trying to get Harriet on her own to explain the situation, but any time the opportunity arose Harriet seemed to slide away to another part of the room to talk to someone else. She was laughing and chatting and acting normally, so Sarah couldn’t tell if she was still upset or even angry.

  Sarah used every excuse to pass the time like taking Jessica for a walk out into the garden and going upstairs with Mrs McGuire to look at items that she wanted Sarah to alter for her. Sarah was grateful that she never referred to anything about her and David, and talked about ordinary things.

  When she came back downstairs, Jim McGuire was waiting with a map of Dublin city to pin-point exactly where they came from. Then, Nora told them about her sister who had been quite a famous singer in Ireland, but who had sadly died a few years previously. There was general chat about the shops and places in Dublin that they knew, and how they loved their rare visits back.

  “Unfortunately,” Jim said, “when you get to our age, the trips are mainly to funerals.”

  “And have you been back home to Ireland since you arrived?” Nora asked.

  Sarah smiled and hoped it looked genuine. “No, I’ve only been here a few months. Maybe next year.”

  When the time came for them to leave, Pat said she would run them back to the city centre in the car. “I’m in no rush today,” she said, “and it will keep Jessica occupied having more company in the car.”

  David walked out to the car with them. Sarah thought he was slightly subdued, but he was still friendly and pleasant.

  “Thanks for coming, girls,” he said as they got into the car. “My grandparents were really pleased to meet you both.”

  “It was lovely,” Harriet said, “for them to meet a nice young girl from the same part of the world as themselves.”

  “Thanks, David,” Sarah said and got into the car.

  When Pat dropped them off at the station, the two girls stood for a moment waving the car off and then Harriet turned to Sarah, all smiles gone.

  “Did you bring me out to David’s house today to humiliate me, Sarah?”

  Her tone made Sarah feel she had been punched. “What do you mean?”

  “All the things his grandmother said – I heard – I was at the door with David’s niece,” her voice rose higher, “I heard everything she said – all that stuff about how the young nurse wouldn’t be so slow – how I could see that he would make a fine husband. God! She made me sound absolutely desperate.”

  Sarah moved forward to touch her friend’s arm. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea what she was going to say.”

  Harriet pulled away. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid as to go there with you. I’ve been totally blind – it’s obvious that David’s mad about you and you used me to try to put him off you.”

  “It wasn’t like that at all! Honestly!”

  “No? Did I hear wrong or has he asked you out on a date?” Harriet quizzed. “Did I imagine that his grandmother said he’d bought you a poetry book?”

  Sarah dropped her gaze. “He did give me a book . . . but I thought it was all harmless stuff. A bit of a crush. I didn’t think it was serious. I know you like him and I thought it was a chance to let you meet up with him and his family. I really thought that when he saw us all together he would realise he and you were far more suited. I think you would make a lovely couple and I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “Well, that’s very kind of you.” Harriet’s tone was brittle. “You obviously have plenty of experience in palming unwanted men onto other people.”

  Sarah flinched at her hard words. “I told you everything that happened to me in Ireland. You know I was supposed to have been married and you know I had no choice in what happened.”

  Harriet looked away, too wrapped up in her own embarrassment to care. “You’ve put me in a really humiliating situation. To hear his grandmother saying he had turned down a job in London so he could stay close to you! To hear that he’d bought you a book of love poetry for Christmas!” She shook her head. “You should have known that I wouldn’t have gone to meet his family if I thought they all knew he had feelings for you.”

  “I’m sorry, Harriet, but I really didn’t place any importance on the book. I thought it was because it was in the Irish language.” Sarah knew her words rang hollow.

  “Well, he obviously placed importance on it, especially since his grandfather had given the same book to his grandmother.” There was a raggedness to the nurse’s voice now. She suddenly halted. “Does Lucy know about the book?”

  Sarah’s face coloured instantly. “I was at her house on Christmas morning when I opened it.”

  “Does she know I was going out to David’s house with you?”

  “Yes, I mentioned it.”

  Harriet threw her hands up. “Lovely – so now I have a double humiliation!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lucy Harrison was a patient of mine, she looks up to me. Or at least she did look up to me. Now she’ll only pity me.” Her eyes blazed as she took in the implications. “Do you realise what you’ve done, Sarah? I spent two years helping Lucy Harrison get over a nervous breakdown because she made a fool of herself over a man. We became friends because she could confide in me – tell me things she’d never told anyone else – not even the psychiatrist at the hospital. She said I was mature beyond my years and she could always come to me for advice. How can she ever look up to me again, when she knows that I’ve now made an idiot of myself chasing a fellow who was blatantly in love with you?”

  Sarah felt dizzy, confused – couldn’t digest all the things that Harriet had said. The things she had accused her of. “My God . . . I am so sorry,” she said. “I did
n’t mean any of this to happen. I know that Lucy thinks the world of you and I wouldn’t dream of causing any awkwardness between you.” Tears came into her eyes now. “I like you very much too, Harriet. I look forward to your visits to the shop. I can’t believe I’ve made such a mistake. I truly did not mean it the way you are taking it. Please believe me. I really hoped you and David would get together.”

  Harriet’s face was white and stiff. “Okay . . . I believe you didn’t do it on purpose,” she eventually said, “but it was a mistake I’ll find hard to forget.” She looked over to the office. “I’m going to get my bike now.”

  “If I don’t see you,” Sarah said, “I hope you have a good New Year.”

  “Well,” Harriet said, walking away, “It can’t be any worse than the end of this one.” Then she suddenly halted and turned back. “Can I ask you to do one thing to make sure it definitely isn’t worse?”

  “Yes? I’ll do anything . . .”

  “Forget all the things I said about Lucy. I was upset and it just came out. It’s confidential information, and if she knew I told you she might just report me and I could be sacked.” She looked Sarah in the eye now. “I’ve already lost one friend today in David and I don’t want to lose another friend or even my job.”

  Sarah’s eyes filled with tears and her body was trembling. “I wouldn’t dream of saying anything. You have my word I will never mention it. I know you have a very low opinion of me after today, but I’m really not a bad person.” Tears started to spill down her cheeks and she lifted her handbag to search for a hanky.

  “I know you’re not bad.” Harriet’s voice softened. “But I’m afraid I can’t get over what happened today just as quickly as you would like.”

  * * *

  The house in Victoria Street was quiet – empty apart from Jane who was in bed after doing a night shift – so Sarah was thankful that she didn’t have to appear bright and chatty. She went up to her room and tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. She took out the pattern for the evening dress, but couldn’t focus enough to do it properly.

  The row with Harriet overshadowed everything.