Dublin's Fair City

by Cathy Mansell

  ‘How do they get it that colour?’ she wanted to know.

  Dermot laughed. ‘Ah sure, it’s only food colouring.’ The bartender plonked the drink down on the counter and green froth oozed over the top of the glass. Dermot took a swig and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. ‘It’s not bad. Here, have a taste?’ He put the glass to her lips.

  She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. ‘Yuk! This is not real Guinness.’ The thick substance left her with green lips, and Dermot howled with laughter.

  She nudged him. ‘You did that on purpose.’

  ‘I couldn’t resist.’ He kissed her cheek. The pub was heaving with noisy revellers, and it wasn’t easy to find a seat, but eventually a couple of older women stood up to go.

  ‘Those two old dears leaving when they did was a stroke of luck,’ Dermot said, sliding in next to her. Aileen nodded and removed her coat, placing it across her knee. ‘Well, are you all set for your birthday party tonight?’

  ‘Yes, it’ll be fun.’

  ‘How do you think your da will take the news of our engagement?’

  ‘I don’t think he’ll be surprised. What about yours?’

  ‘Sure, it’s a foregone conclusion as far as they’re concerned. They will be thrilled I’m marrying a beautiful, well brought up, Irish Coleen.’ He stood up. ‘I won’t be long. This time, I’ll get you a proper drink.’ Laughing, he disappeared into the crowd.

  Aileen felt her heartbeat quicken. She didn’t feel respectable anymore. Should she tell Dermot before they got engaged, or wait until afterwards? Somehow, that wouldn’t seem right. Finally, he came back with a bottle of Cherry Bee, a Babycham, and a proper pint for himself. ‘Wasn’t sure which you preferred.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Celebrating already, are we?’

  ‘I wish it was real champagne. I was lucky to get a glass at all. It’s bedlam at the bar.’ Aileen poured her drink, and Dermot clinked his glass against hers. ‘Here’s to us, my beautiful fiancée.’

  ‘Don’t tempt fate. You’ve not put the ring on my finger yet!’ She pushed her shoulder against his, making him laugh.

  Sipping her drink, she sat back. In spite of the mayhem going on around them, she felt relaxed with Dermot, and she was sure that he felt the same. She noticed the way he looked at her, the love shining in his eyes, and she felt a stab of guilt.

  He reached for her hand, and uncontrolled tears welled in her eyes. He gave her a quizzical look. ‘What’s wrong?’

  They were surrounded by people. Voices grew louder and so did the music, drowning any conversation they might have had. She smiled and whispered in his ear that everything was grand.

  ‘You’re upset. What is it?’

  Her decision to tell Dermot everything had now been foisted upon her, and she knew what she had to do. But it was impossible to speak inside the pub.

  She leant in close. ‘Would you mind if we went somewhere less noisy? There’s something I have to tell you.’

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Aileen and Dermot sat on a bench in the park, facing the duck pond. It was cold, yet that was the last thing on her mind. She couldn’t imagine what must be going through Dermot’s head. He moved close and placed his arm around her shoulder.

  ‘Is this about your brother, Aileen? Is he… has something happened?’

  She took an intake of breath. ‘This has nothing to do with Tom, Dermot.’ She looked down. ‘It’s difficult, I’ve been wanting to say something for weeks.’ She sniffed. ‘I’ve done something I’m not very proud of and I…’ She paused.

  ‘It can’t be that bad, Aileen?’ He frowned. ‘Is it?’

  ‘I went out with someone, for a meal, but it didn’t mean anything. We were just friends.’ She paused again when she saw the confused look on his face.

  ‘What! What are you saying? You mean when you were away?’ His arm fell away from her shoulder. ‘You’ve been out with another man, is that what you’re saying?’ He looked aghast.

  Children ran past, bread for the ducks dangling from their small hands.

  ‘Dermot, don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘You’ve met someone else? Is that what you’re trying to say?’

  She swallowed. ‘No, no, of course not.’ She glanced down to hide her tears. ‘Please, let me explain?’

  He shook his head. ‘I knew there was something. When you came home at Christmas, you were distant. We hardly spent any time together. Is that… is that why you went back, to be with him?’

  ‘Oh, no, no. Not at all.’ She looked away from his shocked expression. His eyes sought answers, yet he wasn’t prepared to listen to her.

  ‘As I recall, you couldn’t wait to get back.’

  She glanced up. ‘That’s not true. You need to hear me out, Dermot, please.’ But she could see he wasn’t listening. He had gone somewhere else in his head.

  He leant forward and cupped his face in his hand, then abruptly got to his feet.

  ‘I’ll walk you back to the city. I need time to think.’

  She remained sitting. ‘Please, Dermot. I need to tell you more.’ He threw her a furious glare. She’d never seen him like this; she felt tremulous. ‘Let me explain.’

  ‘Like I want to hear it.’

  Aileen stared at him, then got up and walked alongside him in silence.

  The celebrations were in full swing—marching bands and happy people decked in green while children sat high on shoulders squealing with delight as the last of the floats passed by.

  Aileen couldn’t raise a smile in any direction, regretting every word that had brought them to this. A trust had been broken and she had no idea how to repair it. He walked with her as far as the shop, his expression one of contempt. Then, without a word, he turned round and stormed off, his hands deep in his pockets, leaving her bereft.

  Aileen rushed upstairs to vent her frustration out on her pillow. Her da was outside tidying the yard. They were due at her aunt and uncle’s house at six, and she was only grateful that she hadn’t mentioned her engagement to anyone. Dermot had wanted to keep it a secret until the party. Now she had no inclination to go at all.

  She had bought a new green and white check dress from Dunnes Stores for the occasion, but the incentive to have a bath and get ready had left her. She had always thought she could talk to Dermot about anything, but she hadn’t expected him to react the way he had. Now she wished she’d said nothing.

  A solitary feeling gripped her. What if she lost him? She had come back to Dublin for her father’s sake, but Dermot had been a huge part of her plans, too. How could she make him understand that her life had little meaning without him? A birthday party was the last thing on her mind. What excuse would she give to the family if he didn’t turn up? And if he did, she would have to pretend for the whole evening that everything was all right between them.

  When she heard her da come out of the bathroom, she knew she had little choice but to get up and make herself look presentable. After a bath, she felt better and decided that she had no choice but to face the consequences. She got dressed and piled her newly-washed hair on top of her head, sprayed it with lacquer, and placed a diamanté hair clip in the side. She painted her nails and applied the same red to her full lips.

  Her da looked good in a new charcoal suit. ‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘Your mother would have…’ He paused. ‘Well, we’d better be going. We don’t want to keep people waiting.’

  She forced an involuntary smile and joined in light conversation with her da on the way, but her thoughts were with Dermot.

  * * *

  They arrived to the usual warm welcome from Bead and Paddy, who ushered them inside and took their coats. The front room was warm and cosy, and Aileen suppressed a sob when she saw all the baking her aunt had done. The table was groaning with delicious food. Bead had made neatly-cut sandwiches, apple pies, small cakes, and pastries. It looked perfect, with a birthday cake with cream icing sugar in the centre of a table.

  ‘It
looks lovely, Aunt Bead. Thank you. But you shouldn’t have gone to such trouble.’

  ‘For our favourite girl.’ Paddy hugged and kissed the top of her head. ‘We’re so pleased to have you home, Aileen. We haven’t half missed you.’

  ‘Help yourselves to drinks,’ Bead said. ‘I’ve got in extra bottles of stout as it’s St Patrick’s Day and all.’ Paddy put a record on the radiogram and Bead slapped his wrist. ‘Oh, Paddy, what are you like? Aileen won’t want to listen to classical music on her birthday. Here, put this on. I got it especially for the party.’ She smiled. ‘It’s the new single by Nancy Sinatra, These Boots are Made for Walking. You can take it home with you.’

  Aileen smiled her thanks, but inside she felt sick, wishing for Dermot to come through the door with that lovely smile of his and let her know that everything between them was all right.

  ‘Where’s Dermot?’ her da said, glancing towards the door.

  ‘He’ll be here soon.’ She looked at Bead, who was still putting out food. ‘Thanks for doing all this. It must have taken you ages.’

  Bead beamed her a smile and then pointed towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve got chicken pieces in the oven.’

  There were a few awkward moments where she struggled to remain positive, when after what seemed an age, the doorbell rang. Her heart did a somersault. She swallowed and quickly checked her make-up in the mirror over the fireplace. ‘I’ll get that.’ She hurried to the door and admitted Mr and Mrs Brogan. Dermot hung back, and Aileen wondered if he was going to refuse to come in.

  ‘I’ll just check I’ve locked the car.’ She waited for him to return while Bead welcomed the guests. He walked slowly, hesitating on the doorstep.

  ‘Come in, Dermot, please.’ She touched his hand, but he didn’t respond; he didn’t speak. Aileen felt as if a knife had pierced her heart. Dermot walked past her into the room and apologized for coming late.

  The evening was torture, and at times, she wanted to make an excuse to leave. Most of the time, he sat in a corner of the room, his face in shadow. It wasn’t until towards the end of the evening that an opportunity arose for them to be alone. Dermot nudged her and, making her excuses, she followed him out to the hall. Her head ached with tension, and she was glad to leave the room.

  She sat on the stairs next to him. She felt fearful, her nerves shattered, her hands folded in her lap. She longed for his touch, but he made no attempt to sit close to her and kept his eyes downcast.

  ‘Dermot, please speak to me. Say something?’

  ‘I came out here to save the embarrassment of pretence between us.’ He lifted his gaze. ‘Under the circumstances, I can’t put an engagement ring on your finger, in spite of how I feel and as beautiful as you look.’ His eyes misted, and Aileen felt a sob choke the back of her throat.

  She moved in close. ‘But we can still be civil, can’t we?’

  Someone passed through to the kitchen, and Dermot stood up. She thought he was going to leave, and her heart raced. He shuffled his feet. ‘It’s cut me up something awful to think of you seeing another man.’

  ‘But, I’m not. I wasn’t. Not in that way, Dermot.’

  He put his hand up for her to stop. ‘I don’t know if I can forgive you.’

  She stared at him, a host of thoughts flashing through her mind. She got to her feet and placed her hand on her forehead. ‘I don’t need your forgiveness, Dermot, because I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  He glared at her. ‘I can’t do this, Aileen.’

  ‘Me neither, and I can’t go back in there now.’ She swallowed. ‘Can you at least drive me home? They’ll understand, and think we’ve gone off somewhere to be alone.’ Her heart heavy with disappointment, she choked back tears. ‘When you come back for your parents, you can say I had a headache?’

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  The following morning, Aileen couldn’t raise enough interest to get out of bed. The world was a different place without Dermot. His reaction yesterday had shocked her, leaving her with feelings of shame and regret. How was she going to face today, of all days; her birthday? Her da was bound to notice something was wrong if she didn’t put in an appearance. After last night’s charade, she felt mortified.

  She pulled the bedspread over her head when she heard a tap on her bedroom door, and her da walked in, a smile on his face as he carried a breakfast tray. ‘I thought as you weren’t up yet I’d surprise you for your birthday.’ He placed the tray down on the bedside table.

  ‘Oh, Da.’ She swallowed. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’ It was so nice of him, and brought a smile to her face.

  He sat down on the bed. ‘This is from me.’

  She sat up, propped her pillow behind her head and unwrapped the small gift. Her eyes brightened. ‘They’re beautiful, Da.’

  ‘They belonged to your mother. She would have wanted you to have them.’

  Aileen clipped on the pearl earrings set in the centre of a cluster of tiny diamantes. Then she leant across him. ‘I’ll treasure them.’

  He sniffed. ‘Well, I’m glad I kept them safe for you.’ He stood up. ‘Bead asked me to give you this. She said you can change it if you don’t like it.’ He passed the wrapped package. ‘She also hopes you’re feeling better.’

  Aileen sighed. ‘I’m sorry if I let people down, Da, but…’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right. They understood. Dermot’s mam grumbled a bit when Dermot wasn’t there, but once he returned she was full of sympathy for you. Said she suffered with bad heads when she was younger and had to lie down in a darkened room.’ He chuckled. ‘Me, I ate too much cake.’

  ‘Thanks, Da.’

  ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’

  When he had left, she felt overwhelmed by his understanding. In an attempt to cheer herself up, she switched on her transistor to the Beatles singing their latest hit, We Can Work It Out. The words seemed poignant in her present dilemma; if only she could make Dermot understand.

  The song gave her a new determination. She straightened her shoulders, trying to regain some semblance of control, then finished her tea and toast and got dressed. She pulled the blue angora jumper over her head—the present from Aunt Bead. It matched her new cream skirt she had bought the previous week. As she went downstairs, she wondered if her twin was doing anything special today.

  She placed the dishes into the sink and began to wash them.

  ‘Leave that, love. Why don’t you get off, go somewhere nice with Dermot? Weather-wise, it’s not a bad day for a drive along the coast.’ She gave him a weak smile but carried on drying the dishes and putting them away. ‘You’ve no need to worry about me.’

  ‘It’s not that, Da.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down.

  He arched his eyebrows. ‘Aileen, it’s your birthday, and somehow I get the feeling that something’s bothering you. Am I right?’

  By opening up to her da, she risked being alienated from his affections, but she had to tell someone. She sighed, wishing that she had some good news to impart. ‘Da, can I talk to you about something delicate?’

  ‘Good Lord! You’re not?’

  ‘No, Da. It’s nothing like that.’ She couldn’t imagine feeling any worse if it was. With a heavy heart, she moved across the room and sat down next to him on the sofa.

  ‘Well, what is it? Whatever it is, you’d better spit it out.’

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Aileen sat fidgeting with the rib of her jumper. She glanced across at her da, his expression strained, his brow furrowed. Her story had stunned him into silence, and it filled her with dread. What if he, too, turned away from her?

  ‘Oh, Da.’ She stood up. ‘Please don’t hate me.’ A sob caught the back of her throat.

  He held out his hand, and she sat down again. ‘Hate you? Don’t be silly. You have to admit you were naive in the way you thought about this man.’ He shifted, and then he placed his arm around her. In that solitary moment, she felt her shoulders relax. ‘I’ve no right to judge you,’ he continued
. ‘Sure, we all react differently to grief and loneliness. You could have killed yourself in that car, and God only knows what that lunatic was capable of.’

  He removed his arm and cleared his throat. Linking his fingers, he twirled one thumb over the other.

  ‘I really love Dermot, Da. Now he hates me.’ She sobbed. ‘We were supposed to be getting engaged last night.’

  He nodded. ‘Well, to be honest, I thought he looked uncomfortable last night. Dermot’s behaviour is understandable. Look how I reacted when your mother, Lord rest her soul, told me a secret she’d kept for years. Sure, I didn’t know the whole story then, did I?’

  ‘Oh, Da. what am I going to do?’

  He stood up, walked to the window, and glanced out at the cloudy sky; something he did a lot when he was thinking. He turned back into the room. ‘Dermot doesn’t know the whole story either. He’s a man, as stubborn as I was. If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have gone away in the first place. I can’t bear to think of how lonely you must have been over there. I’m so sorry, love.’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself, Da. It wasn’t you who drove me away.’ She hooked her hair behind one ear. ‘I’ve grown up a lot in the past few months.’

  He sat down again. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a criminal record. Thank the Lord the blighter dropped the charges before he…’

  ‘I still can’t believe he did that, Da.’

  ‘The mind is a complicated machine, Aileen. I’ve found that out by talking things through with the doctor. It’s a mistake to bottle things up.’

  Aileen reached out, linked her arm through his, and nodded. ‘I only hope that Dermot will come to realise I’ve not been unfaithful.’

  ‘I can have a word. Make things right between the two of you before this gets out of hand.’

  ‘No, Da.’ She sat upright. ‘You’ve helped me by understanding what I’ve been going through. I just couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.’

  ‘What about Dermot?’

  ‘If he loves me like he says he does, he’ll give me the benefit of the doubt.’