Dublin's Fair City

by Cathy Mansell

  ‘Oh, I was just curious… I never–’

  ‘Can we forget about the stupid tattoo? We’re here to enjoy ourselves.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I hope you like dancing. We can do that after our meal.’ He glanced around impatiently, as couples around them had already started eating.

  Although she was taken aback by his abruptness, she said, ‘I love dancing, Roy. If I’d known, I’d have dressed up a bit.’

  ‘You look lovely. Charming.’

  His eyes moved down to her lacy blouse—the top button undone—and she felt a flush to her face. His odd behaviour was making her uneasy. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t the same man who had helped her in the office. He was beginning to irritate her.

  Their meal arrived. Roy didn’t speak, and Aileen’s attempts at conversation fell flat so she found herself eavesdropping on couples at nearby tables whispering sweet nothings to each other.

  The drums and instruments now set up, the band members left the stage. Relaxing background music reverberated around the hall. Roy was subdued, and the music filled the void of silence between them.

  ‘Roy, is there something wrong?’ she asked. He tapped his fingers annoyingly on the table, and it wasn’t to the beat of the music. ‘Only, you seem agitated.'

  ‘Wrong! Why should anything be wrong?'

  Aileen lowered her gaze and prodded a scampi with her fork.

  'This place was a bad choice.'

  ‘I like it. It’s nice.' She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never been anywhere like this before.’

  ‘Well, in that case, if you’re sure.’ He picked up his knife and fork and started eating again, and Aileen was at odds to understand what was going on. However, in spite of her discomfort, she was enjoying the food.

  ‘This is lovely.'

  He chewed his meat and popped a chip into his mouth. ‘I still think you should have had a steak.’ How peculiar of him to be so persistent. He was on edge as if he didn’t want to be here. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed your meal, Aileen, but I don’t like it here anymore.’ He sounded like a petulant child.

  ‘Do you want us to leave?’

  ‘No. We haven’t danced yet.’

  His weird mood enraged her, and she would have been quite happy to leave then, with or without him.

  The dishes were cleared away, and men began to move the tables to the side, leaving the small sofas as the band members assembled on stage. Aileen perched on the sofa, leaving Roy plenty of room, when the band began to play Chris Montez’s Let’s Dance. The lights were dimmed and before long couples were swinging and rocking to the music.

  This was one of her favourite songs, but she had lost the urge to get out there and dance with Roy. But when he offered her his hand and led her onto the floor, she couldn’t resist.

  It didn’t take her long to realise that Roy couldn’t dance. He stood like a post, holding his arm in the air twirling her first one way, and then the other until she felt dizzy. She would need another drink if she were to get through the rest of the evening without saying something she might later regret. The music stopped and, with a sigh, she sat down. She thought about the time she had danced with Dermot in Dublin. Lovely, happy-go-lucky Dermot. What was she doing here with Roy? Was she really that lonely?

  ‘I’ll get us a drink,’ he said. ‘Don’t dance with anyone while I’m gone.’

  Aileen blew out her lips. Was this the same man she had eaten sandwiches with earlier today? His behaviour was beginning to worry her. The gin and tonic she had drunk earlier had given her a headache, and she would have loved a glass of lemonade. But when he returned with another gin and tonic and a pint of ale and sat down next to her on the snug sofa, she had no choice but to accept it. Most of the young couples around them were obviously in love.

  She glanced up at the band members looking dapper in their matching black trousers and white jackets and took a sip of her drink. When she looked up at the glitter ball casting trinkets of light across the floor, she felt light-headed.

  The band started to play The More I see You; it was certainly a Chris Montez night. Couples sidled onto the floor, held each other close, and smooched to the seductive tones of the singer. Some hardly moved, their eyes closed as if in a trance.

  Roy got to his feet and put his hand on her arm. She shook her head, but he insisted, pulling her to her feet. He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His bad breath fanned her face, and she drew back.

  ‘This isn’t a good idea, Roy.’

  He pulled her closer. ‘Don’t be daft. It’s only a dance.’ He pressed his face against hers, and she turned her head away.

  She wanted to get away from him. With only a small amount of change in her purse, would it be enough for the bus? She was angry with herself as much as with Roy. She hadn’t noticed this side of his character before tonight and wished she was anywhere but here with him. The dance seemed to go on and on until she felt she would be sick.

  ‘Excuse me, Roy.’ She placed her hand over her mouth and rushed towards the Ladies.

  She took ten minutes to compose herself and came back to find him sitting on the sofa, his legs crossed, his arm spanning the back of the sofa. There was no mistaking the scowl on his face.

  ‘Can you please take me home, Roy? My stomach’s a bit queasy. Something didn’t agree with me.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a pity. I told you to have the steak.’ It had nothing to do with the food, but she nodded then picked up her things.

  ‘It wasn’t me you were running away from, was it?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She forced herself to act normally.

  Outside, she inhaled the cold night air and took a green chiffon scarf from her shoulder bag and wrapped it around her neck. He placed his arm around her shoulder, and a shiver passed through her.

  ‘You’re shaking. You’re not frightened of me, are you, Aileen?’

  She was stunned that he should ask her that. ‘No. Why? Should I be?’

  ‘I’d never hurt you, you know that, don’t you?’ He unlocked the car and she slipped onto the seat. ‘I’ll soon have you home.’

  Anger sizzled inside her. Something about Roy didn’t add up. ‘Sorry… I’m… I’m just not used to alcohol.’

  ‘Don’t worry. It wasn’t the best place I could have taken you to. Next time it will be a classier establishment.’ He turned the ignition, and the car hummed into action. Tonight—all too late—she realised that Roy had a split personality.

  The drive back from the city seemed to take longer. Their conversation was stilted. When, at last, he turned down the avenue, it was late and she knew Mary would be worried. He pulled the car to a stop and turned off the engine then he turned towards her. He placed his hand on her knee, and she swept it away. ‘Aileen, I like you. I like you a lot.’

  She turned to get out.

  ‘Don’t go!’ He moved swiftly, pulling her towards him, he nuzzled her neck.

  ‘Stop it, Roy.’ Her heart pounding, she pushed him off. ‘What do you think you're doing?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘No, you shouldn’t have. It was silly of me to think we could be friends.’

  He hung his head and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. ‘Well, I feel a lot more than friendship for you, Aileen.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said and pushed open the door.

  At that moment the door to the guesthouse opened and Mary came outside, noisily placing milk bottles on the concrete doorstep. One fell over and rolled down the garden path. Mary bent to pick it up. Aileen was never more pleased to see anyone.

  Her legs shaking, she walked towards the house. When she glanced back, Roy was sitting at the wheel, revving the engine unnecessarily. Aileen felt another cold shiver run down her spine and hurried inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On Saturday mornin, Aileen stayed in her room until she heard the teacher from the room along the corridor leave the house. Her head ached, and
she swore she would never drink alcohol again as long as she lived. She slipped on her dressing gown, pulling the cord tightly around her waist then went down to the kitchen. Mary was cleaning the gas cooker and shaking Vim into the sink, and the smell caught the back of Aileen’s throat. When her ma had used it, it always made her cough. Mary turned as she walked in.

  ‘I’m sorry about the smell, love. It makes me cough, too. How are yea feeling?’

  ‘No worse than I deserve.’

  ‘Well, you had me worried. I’d no idea where he’d taken yea.’

  Mary opened the cupboard and took down two mugs, poured tea in one and Camp coffee into the other. She milked and sugared them and pushed the coffee across the table towards Aileen.

  ‘He took me to the Locarno, a dance hall on Hurst Street.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m sorry I went off like that, Mary. And to have kept you up.’

  ‘From what I saw of ‘im last night, you’d do well to stay well clear.’

  Aileen sipped her coffee then pressed her fingertips to her forehead. She had already decided that for herself. One character change—as in her father—was enough for her to deal with. She certainly didn’t need another.

  Mary stood up and went to the cupboard again. ‘Looks like yea need a couple of these.’ She handed Aileen two Anadin, then half-filled a glass with tap water. ‘What were yea drinking?’

  ‘Gin and tonics.’ She swallowed the tablets. ‘Never again.’

  ‘Well, if you’re not used to it, you’ve only yourself to blame.’

  Aileen couldn’t argue with that. Grateful it was Saturday and she hadn’t agreed to work, she declined Mary’s offer of breakfast. ‘I’m going back to bed for an hour.’

  By lunchtime, she felt more like her self again, and when she went downstairs, Mary was out. She picked up the post. There was the usual weekly letter from Dermot, and the rest were addressed to Mrs Mary Reilly.

  In the kitchen, she made herself some toast and sat down to read Dermot’s letter.

  Darling Aileen,

  I hope you are well. Things are okay here, but the street’s not the same without you. You’ll want to know that your father has had a For Sale sign posted on the wall of the haberdashery, and most of the neighbouring traders are anxiously waiting to see who will occupy it once your da moves out. I’ve tried to stay in touch with him, but you know what he’s like, he doesn’t encourage callers. He and your aunt have been seen at the pub on several occasions, and tongues are still wagging. I’m sorry, Aileen, but I know you wouldn’t thank me for keeping this from you.

  Look after yourself. I hope it won’t be long before you come back to the Fair City. My feelings haven’t changed, and I have in mind a romantic place where we can go when you return home.

  Love Dermot

  She missed him so much and felt guilty to have been out with another man. Dear God! How could her da go and sell the shop and not bother to write and let her know? A lump formed in her throat. To stop herself dwelling on what was happening back home, she opened the cupboard underneath the stairs and took out the vacuum cleaner. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but Mary expected her to help with the chores, and it was the least she could do.

  She hoovered the living room and then the hall; the noise made her head throb again. She was about to carry the heavy machine upstairs when the telephone rang. ‘Hello.’

  Aileen was surprised to hear Dermot’s voice.

  ‘Aileen, listen. Not sure if you’ve heard the news, or read this morning’s newspaper. There has been a terrible disaster in Aberfan, South Wales. The slack deposited by the National Coal Board above the village has collapsed and buried the junior school. My ma’s sister lives in Merthyr Vale and her eight-year-old granddaughter goes to the school.’

  ‘That’s awful, Dermot. No, I hadn’t heard. God! Do you know if she’s all right?’

  ‘We don’t know how bad it is yet, but Ma says her sister will need our support, so I’m taking her over there on the ferry today. Just wanted to let you know just in case you need me for anything.’ She heard him sigh. ‘I probably won’t be home for at least a week, depending on how we find things.’

  ‘Thanks for letting me know, Dermot. I’ll nip out and buy a newspaper now. Take care. Let me know when you can.’

  ‘Will do. Love you.’

  The phone clicked off, and she replaced the receiver and sat on the bottom step of the stairs, pondering on the disaster. Her da selling the shop was small in comparison.

  The vacuuming forgotten, she pushed her arms into her coat, tied a warm scarf around her neck, picked up her bag, and left the house. She only had to walk to the bottom of the road to the paper shop. Grabbing the last copy of the Birmingham Post from the shelf, she paid and left. Outside, she stared at the front page with the shocking picture of the buried school. Dear God! All those poor kids. She folded the paper and hurried back to Mary’s to read it in detail.

  An hour later, Aileen still hadn’t absorbed the tragedy, so she switched the wireless on to hear more. The letterbox rattled. She switched off the wireless and hurried to open the door, expecting it might be Mary’s sister Mavis, who often called at the weekend. Instead, the young boy from across the street stood under the canopy, looking up at her.

  ‘Hello.’ She smiled. ‘Mrs Reilly’s not in at the moment. Can I help?’ The boy glanced back over his shoulder. ‘What is it?’ The lad looked nervous, as if he had done something wrong. ‘Look, what’s wrong?’

  ‘There’s a man over there.’ He pointed back down the street. ‘He gemme two shilling to knock and tell you he wants to see yea.’ With that, the boy ran back across the street.

  Aileen’s heart skipped a beat. Roy Pickering. Whatever he wanted, she wasn’t going to find out. She shuddered and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

  Upstairs, Mary’s bedroom door was open, and Aileen took the liberty of going inside so she could look out through the bay window. She saw what looked like Roy’s car parked a short distance from the house, and farther along she saw Mary lugging two heavy shopping bags. The car was turned in the opposite direction, with the driver’s face obscured.

  She drew back, hoping he hadn’t spotted her. She wanted to go out and help Mary, yet how could she? As Mary drew closer to the house, the car drove slowly away and parked further up the street. This was ridiculous. He was beginning to give her the creeps.

  As soon as she heard Mary’s key in the lock, Aileen sighed and hurried to help her in with her shopping.

  ‘What’s up? Yea look like yea’ve seen a ghost.’ Mary followed Aileen into the kitchen.

  ‘He’s outside.’ She placed the shopping bags on the table while Mary removed her coat and hooked it up on the kitchen door.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘Roy Pickering! He must have seen you and moved away.’ Aileen sat down and placed her head in her hands. ‘I should never have agreed to go out with him, Mary.’

  ‘Well, you’re as daft as a brush if yea think any man will go out with a woman for friendship.’

  She knew that now. ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Has he been to the door?’

  Aileen shook her head. ‘He sent the kid from across the street.’

  ‘Well, he’s definitely gone now, and I dare ‘im to come back.’ Mary shrugged. ‘Bloomin’ cheek. I didn’t like what I saw of ‘im in the dark, Aileen.’ She took a deep breath. ‘There’s something weird about ‘im.’

  Mary wasn’t the first to see it. Why hadn’t she noticed it herself?

  ‘I didn’t go on at yea last night, because I could see yea was upset. Did he upset yea?’

  ‘I’m more annoyed with myself.’

  She shook her head. ‘The whole evening was odd.’ ‘I hope yea’ll take me advice then and not see ‘im again.’

  ‘I’ve no intention of seeing him again.’ Aileen hooked a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘One minute he’s as nice as pie, and the next I don’t know who he is.’

  ‘We
ll, happen yea should pick your friends more carefully in future.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mary.’ She pulled her cardigan around her and shivered. ‘I guess you heard about the disaster? What with Roy Pickering making me jittery, I forgot to say.’

  ‘What are yea on about?’

  ‘There’s been a catastrophe in Wales. Dermot rang to tell me. His aunt’s granddaughter goes to the school.’

  ‘A heard a few mutterings on the ‘ill but didn’t catch where it was like. I didn’t get a paper because me ‘ands were full.’

  Aileen picked up the newspaper. ‘Here, read it. It’s heartbreaking.’

  Mary shook out the paper, her eyes wide. ‘God love them. How old are the kiddies?’

  ‘Dermot said his aunt’s granddaughter is eight.’

  ‘Well, let’s pray that they get the children out safely, although looking at this picture, it doesn’t look good.’ She put the paper down. ‘I guess you’ll be anxious to hear from Dermot again.’

  Aileen nodded. ‘I’ll get on and hoover upstairs. It’ll take my mind off things.’

  ‘Hey, leave that. I’ve got a nice bottle of brandy in the cupboard me sister brought last time. I dare say it will settle your nerves.’

  Aileen looked away. ‘Not sure I should, you know, after last night.’

  ‘Oh, a small glass will do you no harm under the circumstances.’

  They sat in silence and sipped their drink. Then Aileen said, ‘He can’t dance, Mary.’ Both of them began to giggle as she related Roy’s efforts on the dance floor.

  ‘Aye, it might appear funny to yea now, but my guess is it was the only way he could get his dirty hands on yea.’ Mary drained her glass. ‘Creepy little devil.’

  The letterbox rattled, interrupting their conversation. Mary, her face rosy from the brandy, got to her feet followed by Aileen. ‘If that’s ‘im, I’m in the right mood for ‘im.’

  ‘Mary, please let me deal with him.’

  Her landlady flung open the door. A woman, who could easily have passed for Mary’s twin, stood there looking at them. ‘Well, what’s the matter with yea? Aren’t ye gooing to invite me in?’