The Linen Queen

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The Linen Queen Page 17

by Patricia Falvey


  Joel’s face turned pale. “It’s top secret, Sheila. You know I can’t tell you anything. And you shouldn’t be listening to rumors. People don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  The barman served his drink and he took a long gulp. “I’m sorry,” he said more quietly. “It’s just that… well I’m… we all are under a lot of strain. The war is not going as well as we’d hoped. And at this point, I don’t even know if there is any good solution. But we have to do something. We can’t let that bastard win.”

  I nodded. Normally I would have changed the direction of the conversation, but tonight I was glad of anything that distracted me from my own thoughts.

  “You must be a very important chap if they keep calling you over there to consult,” I said, hoping to cheer him up.

  “I’d rather they left me be,” he said. “That way I wouldn’t have to shoulder the responsibility if things go wrong.” He drained his glass and then leaned over towards me. “But there may be a silver lining to it all. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  I sat up straight. “What? Tell me?”

  “No, not here. Let’s go.”

  He stood up and I stood up with him. I was filled with curiosity. I linked his arm as we made for the door. My earlier bad mood disappeared like a wisp of smoke.

  We drove down the Warrenpoint road and through the town. As usual for a Saturday night the place was hectic. People crowded the main square and the funfair and strolled along the strand. It was early summer and the weather was unusually warm.

  “Are we going to the Castle Hotel?”

  He shook his head. “No, I think somewhere quieter might be the ticket. I’ve discovered a lovely little place just out the road. I went there a few weeks ago with some of the other officers. It will be perfect for what I have in mind.”

  I knew he wanted me to ask him just what he had in mind, but I said nothing. I liked the feeling of someone else in charge. It occurred to me that most of my life I was the one who had to make decisions, had to be in charge of things. This was a welcome change. I sat back and looked out at the sea and smiled.

  Joel pulled the car up in front of a small hotel and restaurant called the Balmoral. It was a three-story terraced building overlooking the water. It was a Protestant place, and I had never set foot in it before. There were a number of well-dressed people sitting at white-clothed tables in the dining room. Some of the men nodded at Joel. He was still wearing his uniform. I was glad I had taken the time to change out of my work clothes into a blue cotton summer dress before I left the house. I straightened my shoulders and tossed back my hair. I was as good as any of them, I told myself, and tried to put the scene at the Canal Club and the sniggering well-bred girls out of my head.

  After the waitress had cleared away the dinner plates, Joel leaned forward and took my hand in his and gazed into my eyes. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I waited.

  “Sheila,” he said, “I have something to ask you.”

  “Ask away,” I said, trying to break the seriousness of the moment.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I know you may think this is very forward of me, but, well, I—what I want to say is, well I’ve been thinking, and—”

  “For God’s sake, Joel, just say whatever you have to say.” The suspense was killing me.

  “I want you to come away with me to England.”

  The words hung in the air. It was as if the room itself had gone silent; no cup chimed against a saucer, no glass clinked against another, no whisper was exchanged.

  Joel rushed on. “Sheila, we have something special—something I’ve never felt with another girl before. I can talk to you—about anything.”

  I nodded. Panic and excitement rose up in me.

  “The whole time I was away I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I want you to be with me.”

  “I am with you,” I said. “I’m sitting right here.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean.” He leaned back and sighed. “You see, I’m going to be spending a lot of time in England in the next few months and I don’t want to be separated from you. Life is short, Sheila. We need to grab what pleasure we can from it. None of us knows what the future holds.”

  He paused, and I waited, my heart thumping.

  “And before you say anything, I know it’s asking a lot,” he went on. “I know how much you love your home here in Ireland. But it would only be for a while, Sheila. After the war’s over, if God spares us, we could come back here if you like.” He put me in mind of an eager young boy.

  I stared at him, trying to take in what he was saying. I’d often heard the saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth. Well, I was looking straight at the horse now. I should have been over the moon. Christ, I should have been dancing on the table. Instead I could only sit like an eejit with my mouth wide open. I was stunned.

  “I realize it’s sudden, Sheila,” Joel was saying. “But promise me you’ll think about it.”

  I nodded and put my hand out and touched his wrist. We sat in silence. Joel filled my wineglass and I took a sip without even tasting it. My mind was whizzing around faster than the roundabout at the Warrenpoint fair. I could go. After all this time and trouble, here was my escape sitting right in front of my eyes. I had taken up with Joel in the hope he would be my ticket out of here, and now he was. Granted, it wasn’t to America yet, but that would come. At least England was a start. Half a loaf was better than none. I dismissed what he’d said about more permanent plans after the war. I’d worry about that when the time came. If he was thinking of marriage, I was sure I could play him along for a while, at least long enough to get to America. It was all falling into place. Thank God. Thank God.

  It was late when we stood up to go. The restaurant had long ago closed and we were the only ones left.

  “Fancy a dance at the Castle?” I said, knowing the ballroom would still be open. “I can tell my friends the good news.”

  Joel looked serious. “Does that mean you’ll come away with me?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Of course I will.”

  A grin spread over his face. He stood and took my hand to help me up. He put his arm around my waist. “We could go to the Castle,” he said, “but I think we have some celebrating to do. And I think we should do it alone.”

  I waited while Joel picked up a key from the receptionist in the hall and paid for the room. The clerk gave me a sour look that left me in no doubt what she was thinking, but I just grinned back at her. “Lovely evening,” I said.

  I had never set foot in a hotel room before. I looked around me in awe. I took in the big mahogany bed with the blue and white floral bedspread, the polished dresser, and blue wing chair with a wee table beside it piled with magazines. The room was at the front of the hotel and overlooked Carlingford Lough. My feet sank into the blue carpet as I rushed to the window. I pulled back the white curtains and raised the sash so I could smell the sea. I turned back to Joel all smiles.

  “This is grand,” I said, excited as a child.

  I turned back to the window and looked over towards Omeath. Dusk was falling and small lights glittered from the dark houses on the hills. I wondered was Gavin home and then chased the thought out of my mind.

  “Come and sit down,” Joel said. “Have some champagne.”

  He had removed his uniform jacket and sat down on the bed. He patted a spot beside him. A fancy looking bottle and two crystal glasses sat on the bedside table. I wondered had he planned all this ahead of time. Was he so sure he would be able to get me to go to the room with him? So what, I thought. I owed him that much. I was never a great one for champagne—it turned my stomach—but I took a glass from him and watched him pour the golden liquid into it.

  “Just a wee drop,” I said. “I want to keep my wits about me.”

  “Afraid I’ll get you drunk and have my way with you?”

  “Och no.” I laughed. “I want to remember every bit of it.”
>
  When we had drained our glasses, Joel took off his shoes and lay down on the top of the bed and I did the same. My heart was beating fast and I was suddenly self-conscious. Did I still smell of oil from the flax? I had not taken time to wash before I left the house. Were my knickers clean? Why hadn’t I put on my best pair? But how could I have known? In my nervousness I pulled down a corner of the bedspread and began stroking the smooth, white sheets.

  “Och, these are lovely, aren’t they, Joel?” I said, thinking of the rough four sacks on my own bed.

  “Shhh.”

  Joel sat up and removed his shirt and tie. I watched the muscles move in his smooth back and I wanted to put out my hand and touch them. He lay down again and rolled over to face me. He kissed me on the brow and cheek and began to open the buttons on the front of my dress.

  “Is this OK?” he murmured, his voice huskier than usual.

  I nodded.

  Moments later we slid together in between the fresh, cotton sheets. I loved the feel of them against my bare skin. Joel pulled me close, rubbing his hands up and down my body in a gentle caress. He lowered his lips to my breast and I let out a small whimper. I raised my arms around his neck and pulled him close. How different this man was from the boys I knew—the ones who grabbed and tugged at me with sweaty, dirty hands. Joel treated my body with reverence. I turned my head away from him so he would not see my unexpected tears.

  He raised his head and put his fingers to his lips. Then he sat up with his back turned to me and reached for something on the bedside table. It was a condom. I was relieved I had not had to ask him. I thought of Patsy and shuddered. He lay back down and rolled over on top of me. I rubbed my hands up and down the smooth skin of his back and the sinewy muscles of his buttocks. This was good, I thought. This was wonderful. But as he entered me I let out a scream. A sharp pain pierced the center of me and my body tensed. I clutched Joe’s thighs. Alarmed, he pulled away from me.

  “Sheila, are you all right? What did I do?”

  I shook my head from side to side. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

  Joel sat straight up. “My God, Sheila. You’re a virgin. You never told me. I never thought… Oh, God.”

  “It’s OK,” I said. “I want to do this.”

  But Joel was already standing up and had removed the condom and thrown it in the wastebasket. “If I’d known, Sheila, I never would have…”

  I raised myself up on my elbows. “I have to get past it sometime,” I said. “And who better than with you? Honestly, Joel. It’s OK.”

  He sat down beside me on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me, Sheila?”

  I attempted a laugh. “It’s not the kind of thing you bring up in polite conversation, Joel.”

  I put my arms around his neck and attempted to bring him close to me again. But he would have none of it.

  “No, Sheila. This is your most precious gift and I will not take it from you like this.”

  My anger rose unexpectedly. I felt rejected. “But you thought it would be fine and dandy to jump into bed with Sheila the whore?”

  He looked at me openmouthed. “I never took you for that!”

  “Oh yes you did. And I can’t blame you. With my reputation around here, everybody thinks the worst. And you’re no exception. I’ll be going home now. Maybe it’s not too late for you to run out and find a more suitable girl.”

  I made to jump out of bed, but Joel took my shoulders and held me still.

  “You’re right, Sheila,” he said. “I didn’t think you were a virgin, but it made no difference to me. I still meant what I said. I still wanted you to come away with me. But now that I’ve found out that you are, it makes you even more precious to me. I realize now how much I was asking of you. I had no right to do it.”

  My God, was he going to change his mind? I couldn’t let that happen. I swallowed the anger and frustration that had risen in me and took a deep breath.

  “I still want to go with you, Joel.”

  He lay down and pulled me down beside him. He held me close and smoothed my hair with his hand.

  “You are so beautiful, Sheila,” he said. “I love you.”

  Chapter 16

  I stayed at the hotel until late the next morning. Joel had left to report into the barracks at first light. I had watched him get dressed in the dawn shadows. His movements were graceful and slow. He took out the silver pocket watch I had seen before and glanced at it. I smiled and snuggled down into the warm sheets. I must have drifted off. The knock of the housekeeper on the room door woke me. I panicked and shot up out of bed, grabbing my dress as I rushed to the door. I opened it and peered outside. A big, burly woman stared back at me, grunted, and went on about her business. Relieved, I walked over to the window and raised the blinds. The sun glinted on the lough as gulls called. As I turned back I noticed a tray sitting on the wee table beside the wing chair. On it was a silver coffeepot, a cup and saucer, and a plate with two scones and wee bowls of clotted cream and jam. Real cream! Jam! I hadn’t seen the likes of it since before the war. I let out a little scream of delight. Joel must have ordered it before he left. I felt like a queen as I sat in the wing chair enjoying my breakfast. Then I giggled. Well, I was a queen. I was the Linen Queen.

  When I finally left the room, I was giddy with the new possibilities for my future. I almost sang aloud as I made my way home. Home! It would not be home for long now, and good riddance to it. I expected the house to be quiet. They would all be away at Mass. But I was wrong. As I came closer I saw a crowd standing outside our house. There was a police wagon there as well. I began to run. Jesus, had something happened to Ma? Was she sick, or had she gone wild and lost her mind altogether? I elbowed my way through the crowd and pushed in through the front door. Ma sat in her usual armchair beside the fire. I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Are you all right, Ma? What in the name of God’s going on?”

  She didn’t answer me. Instead she looked over her shoulder towards the scullery and the granny room. It was then I heard the noises—shouts and cries and thumping. What in the hell was happening? I rushed towards the scullery and bumped into Kate. She put out her arms to restrain me.

  “Don’t go near there. The police will take care of it. That girl has barricaded herself in the room and she has a knife. She’s screaming that she’ll kill us all!”

  I shoved her aside. “Grainne!” I shouted. “Grainne, love. It’s Sheila. For God’s sake come on out of there.”

  Two policemen, along with Kevin, were charging at the door with their shoulders.

  “Stay out,” she cried. “Leave me alone!”

  I didn’t know what to think. I knew she’d be unhappy when she was told to leave, but I never expected her to react like this. I realized now I’d had a bad feeling about it all, and I had put it out of my mind while I was with Joel. God forgive me, I’d been so excited about getting away to England, I’d almost forgotten about the whole situation.

  “We’ve sent for Father Flynn,” Kate said from behind. “He’ll put the fear of God in the little pagan, mark my words.”

  “If you don’t come out now you wee bastard, you’ll be locked up for the rest of your life,” cried one of the policemen. He was red in the face from the effort of trying to break down the door.

  “Feck off!” cried Grainne.

  If the situation wasn’t so serious I might have laughed. The girl was afraid of nobody. I supposed when you’d lived your life on the streets of Belfast it would take a lot to put the fear of God in you. The second policeman had gone out and come back with a hatchet. He swung it at the door. Long streaks of wood peeled down like banana skins. Aunt Kate let out a scream. Then he swung the hatchet at the hinges and they fell apart. The three men put their shoulders to the door again and this time it gave way. As they shoved, the furniture Grainne had piled behind the door grunted and slid backwards into the room. One final push and a gaping hole appeared where the door had been. I tried to see over their shoulders. Grainne s
tood beside the bed, the knife clutched in her hands. The police grabbed her and pulled her forward. She cried out and dropped the knife.

  “Let me in!” I shouted.

  The police were as surprised as I was at the strength of my roar. They dropped their hold on Grainne and she ran into my arms. She was sobbing. The brave soldier in her had melted away and she was a frightened child again.

  “Don’t let them take me, Sheila,” she cried. “Please.”

  I stroked her hair. “It’s all right, wee Grainne,” I whispered.

  I wasn’t sure what I was thinking at that moment. In fact, the truth was that I wasn’t thinking at all. I was acting out of some compulsion to protect the girl. It was an urge so strong I could do nothing to stop myself.

  “Ah, Father, thank God you’re here.” Kate’s voice reached over my shoulder. “She’s possessed by the devil, so she is. Look at the damage she’s done to my house. And she nearly killed us all!”

  Father Flynn’s face was dark with anger. He took in the situation in one glance. Then he nodded to the older policeman.

  “Can I have a word with you outside, Sergeant?”

  The two of them turned and walked through the parlor and out the door onto the street. I smoothed Grainne’s hair. She clung to me, her entire body shaking. “Don’t worry, love,” I whispered. “It will be all right.”

  When Father Flynn returned he wore the same smug look he always wore when chastising the drunks down at the tram station on Saturday nights. He was the boy who waited for the lads coming off the last tram, nearly kissing them as he smelled their breaths, and then ridiculing them at Mass the next morning. I shivered. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it.

  “Sergeant Riley and I have agreed. The girl will be given into my care.” He paused and looked around at all of us. Ma had left her chair and hovered in the scullery beside Kate. “This girl has been a bad article from the moment she arrived here,” Father Flynn continued. “The reports I have about her from her teachers and schoolmates and others in the parish are that she is beyond help. Her behavior has been abominable. She shows no respect for authority, her language is worse than any sailor, and as far as I know she has never set foot in confession—even though she marches up to communion every Sunday with decent people.”

 

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