Secrets of Our Hearts

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Boadicea smiled back at him. She had been right about her fine hair, for it had undergone a drastic reaction to the weather, but Niall thought she looked as sweet as an angel, her twinkling blue eyes and pink cheeks framed by a curly halo of gold. ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she told him. ‘Now I must go, or I’ll be rushing round like the proverbial.’

  He leaned towards her expectantly. ‘Can I give you a little kiss?’

  Her cheek presented, he allowed his lips to settle there, imbibing the scent of violets, and feeling his insides quiver. Then she turned tail and hurried back to the mansion.

  Smiling to himself, Niall was about to proceed along Walmgate when, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a figure crossing the road towards him. Turning his head, he had no time to avoid the blow – in fact he only succeeded in providing a better target for the stinging slap that was dealt to his cheek, so fiercely delivered that it made him cry out.

  Objecting loudly, his hand automatically raised to attend his throbbing flesh, he took a moment to right himself, then stared at the woman who had dispensed the injury, and his spirits fell. It was Harriet.

  9

  ‘Just you wait till I get home!’ Harriet had warned him, as a parent might say to a naughty child. ‘Me mother’ll hear about this!’ And leaving him in purgatory, she had minced away in the opposite direction, to resume the errand that had been so rudely interrupted by his treachery.

  Thinking to cushion the impact, Niall hurried home and, after ascertaining that the children were out at play in the puddles, he stood before his mother-in-law, damp cap in hand, and blurted an awkward confession: ‘Nora, I’ve been meaning to tell you … I’ve met somebody I want to marry.’

  The unexpectedness of this had interrupted her sewing, and had forced her to give him her full attention, but after recovering from her initial shock Nora was merely shirty. ‘I don’t see why you couldn’t trust me to find you somebody suitable,’ she complained.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, Nora.’ Still on his feet, he had begun to explain in measured tones about how he valued her opinion, and would of course introduce her to his lady friend at the first opportunity – and at that point Harriet returned.

  ‘He’s told you then!’ Eyes like marbles, she remained in the passage for a moment, shrugging off her wet coat and giving it an angry shake before hooking it over a peg.

  ‘If you mean about the woman he’s met, yes.’ Nora did not sound too pleased. Then she frowned in puzzlement, as Harriet came charging into the living room and threw a brown paper parcel on the table. ‘How did you—’

  ‘’Cause I’ve just seen him kissing her, that’s how!’

  ‘What?’ Able only to splutter that one word, Nora turned swiftly back to Niall, who inwardly cringed in guilt.

  ‘Where do you think he got that red mark on his face?’ thundered Harriet. ‘I wasn’t going to stand there and let that happen!’

  Seeing his mother-in-law’s eyes well with anger, and hoping to fend off another physical attack from Harriet, Niall sought to explain. ‘You’re talking as if I’ve been caught in some passionate embrace – it was only a kiss on the cheek! No more than I’d grant either of you.’

  Harriet made a loud scoffing noise, then bellowed disgustedly to her mother, ‘Good job we ran out of material!’ That which seemed a nuisance only half an hour ago, had now turned provident. ‘I’d never have caught him otherwise – painting, my foot! How long’s this been going on? How many more lies have you told us?’

  ‘Harriet!’ barked her mother with an authoritative glare, and immediately the tirade was stemmed.

  Her order obeyed, Nora turned back to Niall, stuck her chin out, and directed a jaundiced eye at him. ‘Right then, you were eager enough to tell me before we found out your true colours – who is this woman?’

  Besieged by those three fierce presences, Harriet, her mother, and that oppressive black sideboard, and annoyed to hear his sweetheart referred to as ‘this woman’, Niall was less than co-operative.

  ‘Her name is Miss Merrifield.’ He employed a formal air, not only in an attempt to calm things, but also from an unwillingness to include Nora in his intimate knowledge of Boadicea.

  But being Nora, she demanded to know anyway. ‘And does she have a first name? She must have if you’re on marrying terms.’

  ‘Marry?’ Harriet bawled at her mother, who held up a hand. Silenced again, and frustrated, the daughter folded her arms tightly under her breast, and began to prowl up and down.

  ‘Name!’ repeated Nora to her son-in-law.

  He sighed and offered it reluctantly, as he bent to lay his damp cap on the hearth. ‘It’s Boadicea.’

  ‘My God!’ A nasty laugh from both mother and daughter. ‘Were her parents comedians?’

  Niall pressed his lips together, his nostrils flared. You can talk with a name like Beasty, he wanted to retort, but that would hardly encourage them to share his point of view.

  ‘Well, she can’t live round here,’ frowned Nora, ‘or I’d have heard of her. So where does she live?’

  Harriet jumped in again. ‘I can tell you that, Mam! Well, I saw which alley she went into after kissing him, so we’d only have to knock on a few doors!’

  Fearing they would invade the Preciouses’ home, Niall held up his callused palms. ‘Now let’s not get silly—’

  ‘Silly?’ Nora’s repetition was laced with opprobrium. ‘We won’t have to get silly if you come clean about her.’ And she cocked her head expectantly.

  Ashamed and unwilling to reveal that the love of his life was already married, he granted his interrogators only those details that were innocuous. ‘She’s from the same county in Ireland as we are—’

  ‘With a heathen name like that?’ exclaimed Nora. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘Well, she had to call herself Mary over there,’ muttered Niall.

  ‘I know what I’d like to call her!’ spat Harriet.

  Annoyed by their sneering condemnation of the woman he loved, Niall clammed up then.

  But his mother-in-law remained dogged. ‘It seems a funny going-on to me. Why, you can’t have known her five minutes!’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or have you? How long has it been going on?’

  ‘Not long.’

  ‘Where did you meet her?’

  He hesitated before admitting, ‘She works at The Angel.’

  The room erupted, the women’s shrill exclamations pinging the crystal vase on the sideboard. ‘A barmaid? So that’s what he was up to behind our backs, letting us think he was drowning his sorrows, when all the time it was to see her!’

  Niall tried to beseech them. ‘You’re making it sound dirty, it—’

  ‘That’s exactly what it is!’ Nora’s eyes bulged.

  ‘No!’ he cried. ‘There’s been nothing like that between us. We just have some good conversation, and go to the pictures together …’

  ‘Oh! Now it’s all coming out,’ crowed Harriet, nodding sagely to her mother. ‘Hanky-panky in the dark!’

  Niall turned on her. ‘Don’t be tarring me with the same brush as yourself! She’s a respectable woman – she goes to Mass on Sundays.’

  But Nora was not to be duped, stating grimly, ‘Bernie McEvoy goes to Mass, and we all know what she is!’

  Niall set his mouth in defiance. ‘Do you think so little of me that I’d pick a woman of the streets to look after my children?’

  ‘She works in a pub; it’s almost as bad!’ Against the pale grey of her dress, Nora’s face had turned puce. ‘And I’m not having my grandchildren raised by a barmaid, so you can get that out of your head straight away!’

  Losing control, Harriet launched herself at the exit. ‘I’ve never been in a pub in my life, but I’m off round to tell her employer what she’s up to!’

  ‘No you bloody won’t!’ Niall grabbed her arm.

  Though it was not he who successfully delayed her, but her mother’s command. ‘No you won’t, Harriet! I’m not having y
ou making matters worse. He knows he’s in the wrong, don’t you?’

  ‘Do I?’ Niall maintained a rebellious air, though the general tone of the argument seemed suddenly to have been given a change of direction by his mother-in-law.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Her voice might have adopted a more reasonable tone, was almost a purr, but the steely glint of her eye showed that the battle was about to begin in earnest. ‘So get yourself sat down, and let’s pay this matter a great deal more thought – and I don’t want you butting in, Harriet.’

  ‘It’s had all the thought it requires,’ Niall answered firmly. ‘I know how I feel about her.’ Resisting her order to sit down, he glanced at the clock. ‘Anyway, the kids’ll be coming in for their tea in a while. I don’t want them hearing all this.’

  ‘I’ll bet you don’t! And seeing as we’re mentioning the children, how d’you think they’ll feel?’ enquired Nora, a truculent Harriet sitting in one of the heavy Edwardian chairs nearby to contribute a nod of agreement.

  ‘They’ll like her as much as I do.’ Niall finally sat down in his armchair, though his attitude remained stiff.

  ‘How do you know?’ grilled Nora. ‘You haven’t consulted them. You haven’t paid them one minute’s regard.’ She saw him about to object. ‘Oh aye! You’ll have a game of football when it suits you, and read them the odd fairytale, but young as they are, they can tell your mind’s somewhere else – and now we know where! It’s not even a year since they lost their mother and—’

  ‘It was all right when you wanted me to wed Dolly, though!’ flared Niall at the accusation that he was a bad father.

  ‘Dolly’s their aunt – she loves them!’ Nora shouted above him. ‘You don’t know anything about this woman, other than your own selfish lust. Yes, that’s what it is! Lust! You haven’t given a thought to anybody else in this house. You say you care about your children, but you haven’t given them the time of day whilst all this has been going on!’

  ‘That’s rubbish!’ Niall jumped to his feet as if to leave.

  ‘It’s all very well racing through a few pages of Mowgli, but what they really need is somebody they can rely on.’

  ‘They can rely on me!’

  ‘Go on then,’ needled his mother-in-law, still in her seat, looking up at him, ‘tell me what Dominic’s been doing with himself these last ten months.’ Pleased to see him falter, she pressed forth her attack. ‘No, you can’t, can you? So I’ll tell you – he’s been smoking!’

  Niall’s jaw dropped.

  ‘Aye, I thought that’d surprise you,’ nodded his mother-in-law. ‘He probably puffs off more a week than you do!’

  Niall spluttered, his first instinct being to count the cigarettes in his own packet.

  ‘Oh, he hasn’t been pinching yours, if that’s all you’re bothered about! He buys his own.’

  ‘Where does he get the money?’ frowned Niall.

  ‘It’s what he earned from all those Requiem Masses he’s been doing – made rather a pastime of it.’

  ‘He’s meant to hand any money to you!’

  ‘And so he did,’ said the boy’s grandmother calmly. ‘But I let him keep a copper or two for himself.’

  ‘If you knew what he was spending it on, why didn’t you stop him?’ demanded an angry Niall.

  ‘Why didn’t you stop him? You’re his father.’ Nora tapped her chest vigorously. ‘I haven’t stopped him because I know how the lad’s feeling at losing his mother, and having a father who’s too busy sniffing round barmaids to show any interest in him! And what about Brian, the poor bairn who still doesn’t understand why his mother isn’t coming back – how do you think he feels when his father’s off gallivanting every night?’

  ‘It’s not every night!’ repudiated Niall, as if to a fool, though his defiant stance was fast beginning to crumble. ‘I knocked that on the head a long time ago. I only go out once a week – surely I deserve that after working so hard to provide for you lot?’

  ‘Eh, I provide for meself, thank you very much!’ objected Harriet, but was overshouted by her mother.

  ‘It might not be every night, but I’ll tell you what is!’ riposted Nora. ‘Wet sheets and blankets from our Judith, that’s what! Stuff that I have to wash and dry every morning – or near as dammit – not you, me. Me, who should be enjoying a bit of rest in my old age!’

  It was a gross exaggeration, but it did the trick. Completely quashed now, Niall murmured guiltily, ‘I’m sorry, Nora, I had no idea …’

  ‘No, because I didn’t tell you! I just got on with it. Because that’s what a grandmother does for those she loves. And all these months you’ve taken us for mugs!’ She shared a look of disgust with Harriet, both sets of eyes brimming malice.

  ‘I haven’t honestly!’ Niall was effusively penitent. ‘I’m truly grateful for all you’ve done. I’m really sorry, I never thought—’

  ‘No, you didn’t!’ Nora gave a curt nod. ‘And believe me, I haven’t told you the half of it. The number of hidings I’ve had to give Batty for taking stuff that doesn’t belong to him …’

  Niall groaned, and flopped back down onto the chair, leaning forward, head in hands.

  But there was even more to come. ‘I’ve had neighbours at our door complaining that Juggy’s clouted their bairns—’

  His face shot up, objecting, ‘Juggy? I won’t believe that!’

  Nora craned forth to lay emphasis on her declaration. ‘She’s even been hitting her friends, slapping them across the face!’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Don’t ask me! Ask her! But she’s taking her anger out on those who don’t deserve it. There’s only Honor that’s doing any good at school, and no thanks to you. It’s me who has to drag her out of bed every morning. Do you think your barmaid’s going to put up with all that – or will you even bother to inform her, or is she just there to meet your requirements, like the rest of us seem to be?’

  Having said her piece, the tartar sat back and fidgeted with the gold watch-band on her thick wrist, awaiting him to consider her revelations.

  Consumed by guilt, during the wordless interval that followed Niall was deeply pensive, staring at his mother-in-law’s masculine fingers upon that delicate bracelet, whilst mulling over the accusations of its owner. It wasn’t simply that he had been taking advantage of Nora’s generosity that caused him to review his situation. No, it was what she had made him see about his own behaviour towards his children. He had been selfish. Utterly selfish. He could dress it up all he liked, and protest that his aim was to give them a mother, but in truth, the only needs he had been concerned about were his own. For once his eyes were truly open, and he saw that the love affair had been conducted all on his part. He professed to love Boadicea, but how could he expect her to take on such awesome responsibility? There she was, a lass who had been so hurt in the past that she wanted nothing more to do with marriage, wanted to remain carefree and single, had warned him at the outset not to expect anything more than friendship – how could he have sought to cajole her into changing her mind? What had he to offer? Five troubled children was hardly an incentive to marry him, was it? No. It broke his heart to say it, but not only was this unfair, it was totally pointless. Even if Boadicea had been free to wed, he would never be able to bring her into his home without looking like a traitor to his dead wife’s family.

  Oh, but I want her, I need her, his heart argued.

  And your children need you, came the accusing riposte.

  Oh dear God, what was he to do? What should he do?

  Watching him intently, ready to pounce again at the first sign of resistance, Nora and Harriet were finally triumphant to witness the look of surrender that moved like a shadow across Niall’s face.

  ‘You’re right,’ he murmured decisively, sounding calm, though his soul was overwhelmed by such a tidal wave of loss that he could never hope to describe. ‘I have been thinking only of myself…’

  Nora stopped playing with her watch and leaned forward wit
h gimlet eyes to encourage him. ‘So you’ll finish it?’

  Eventually, Niall moved his head in agreement, unable to utter even a yes, for his pain was so bad that it felt like his heart had been ripped from his body.

  His mother-in-law’s expression mellowed, and she reached out to clasp his wrist in a hand that was almost as large as his own. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let us down. In spite of everything I’ve said, you’re a good lad.’ She dealt him a last pat, and gestured to her daughter. ‘Put the kettle on, Hat. I think we need a cup of tea before the bairns come in.’

  Whilst Harriet silently complied, Nora herself deigned to offer Niall a word of encouragement to atone for all the harsh ones. ‘This doesn’t have to mean you’ll always be on your own, you know. We weren’t meaning to run your life for you, were we, Harriet? Just that we think you deserve a lot better, and so do those children.’

  Niall rubbed his hands over his stricken face, immersed in regret, still unable to fathom how he could have been so neglectful of them. ‘I’m sorry for taking you for granted, Nora. I promise I’ll buck my ideas up from now on.’

  ‘I don’t really mind looking after them, you know.’ The tyrant’s voice was lighter, now that matters were once again under her control. ‘I’d be lost if I didn’t have any of you to look after. That’s why I was so concerned. I look upon you as my own son.’

  Feeling even more wretched, Niall dealt her a grateful nod of recognition.

  ‘What you need is some time away from all your troubles,’ Nora told him brightly. ‘The schools break up next Friday, I’m going to write to our Beesy and tell her we’re coming to stay for a week. You, me and the children.’

  ‘Er, what about getting these bridesmaids’ dresses finished?’ Harriet spun round, a brown glazed teapot in her hand. ‘Or had you forgotten it’s only four weeks till I get married?’

  ‘How could we forget? You never shut up about it,’ said her mother, with a cryptic smile at Niall, who was to voice a different concern.

  ‘Next Saturday?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s short notice. I might not be able to get my docket signed in time.’