Secrets of Our Hearts

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘Doesn’t Granny want you to marry her?’ asked an anxious Brian.

  He looked at the wide-eyed four-year-old. ‘No, son, she doesn’t. She’s very angry with me.’ Having managed to dry Juggy’s tears, Niall set her on her feet and rose to flex his aching legs. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’ve done anything bad enough to go to … that awful place, so stop all your worrying.’

  ‘So you haven’t had your wicked way with her?’ tendered the eldest boy suspiciously.

  I should be so lucky, thought Niall, wanting to laugh, but to Dominic he replied with amazement. ‘I certainly have not!’ Then he frowned slightly. ‘You know about such things, do you?’

  Dominic turned red and hung his head. ‘Me mate says it’s what happens in adultery.’

  Niall did not know whether to explode with anger or laughter. ‘Look here! I don’t know what people have been saying, but I promise you all that your father’s not wicked in any way. You know me better than that, don’t you? Now, come on, let’s get to Uncle Reilly’s.’ He picked up the suitcases and moved his children onwards, trying to cheer their spirits as they went. ‘Eh, Aunty Eileen’ll be that glad to see us! She’s been on at me to fetch you round for ages. I wonder where she’ll put us all, though? Mebbe one of us’ll have to sleep in the rabbit hutch – hope it isn’t me!’ And with the little ones giggling over the vision of their father crammed into a hutch, they proceeded on their way.

  * * *

  In another five minutes or so, they were standing outside Reilly’s dank and grimy little house. Whilst their father knocked and waited, a serious-looking Dom leaned like a street loafer against the century- old bricks, brushing his palm over the coating of salt that defaced them. Immediately, Brian copied this, though went too far and used his tongue, and had to be attended by Honor’s handkerchief, the rest standing obediently to wait with their father.

  Eileen was indeed delighted to see them, and opened wide her door, beckoning to them all, ‘Come in, come in, my little chickens! About time your dad brought you to see me!’ And in they streamed, the girls presenting their cheeks for a kiss, the boys trying to dodge this, and the lot of them moving into her living room, where they quietly jostled for chairs.

  ‘You might not be so glad when I tell you we’d like to stay for a few days,’ murmured Niall, leaving his children for a second and following her to the kitchen, where she had hastened to grab a cake tin.

  Momentarily startled, she soon recovered. ‘’Course you can! But for heaven’s sake, what’s driven you from your own home?’

  He spent a few moments telling her the essential points of his dilemma.

  ‘By, you dark horse!’ Eileen tapped him with a grin, upon hearing about Boadicea. ‘What a fancy name – is she posh? She can’t be if she’s dallying with you! You’ll have to tell me all about her.’

  ‘Not till the kids are in bed,’ he murmured with a smile. ‘Oh, they know I’m going to marry her, yes, and they’ve met her – but they’ve had enough upset for tonight.’ Quickly he inserted the bit about their father burning in hell. ‘So, we’ll just keep the conversation light, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘You know me, love! Shallow is my middle name.’ Eileen set two cups plus a row of glasses on a tray, then carried it into the sitting room where the children were making themselves at home, as they had been invited to do. ‘One of you, get that florin off the mantel and nip and get two bottles of pop!’ She set the tray down.

  There was a brief kerfuffle amongst the children over what flavours would be bought.

  ‘Well, you lot seem to be settling in all right!’ observed Eileen, pretending to scold. ‘Get one of orange and t’other of dandelion and burdock – that’s your Uncle Reilly’s favourite.’

  ‘Where is himself?’ enquired Niall.

  ‘He’ll be in any min— oh, speak of the devil!’

  With the opening of the door came a robust figure, a large cheerful face and a look of surprise. ‘My God, we’ve been invaded – they’re moving in for the kill!’ As the children converged upon him the large, unshaven man fell to his knees with a castrato yell, surrendering to their rough and tumble with great exaggeration, rolling about on the floor with the little ones climbing all over him. The antithesis of Niall, Reilly was a loud, rumbustious fellow, the sort who would show one up in public, and the type from whom Niall would normally run. But having past experienced his immense kindness, and knowing him to have his quieter moments, he was more than willing to overlook this fault.

  For a time he continued to smile upon the scene, but eventually, exasperated by the din, he called a halt. ‘All right, that’s enough, let poor Uncle Reilly free.’

  The last child to obey, Brian delivered a final harmless punch, then allowed the heavy figure to stagger to his feet.

  ‘That’s what I like about your children, Mr Doran, they’re so shy.’ Panting, Reilly pushed back his dark tousled hair, his face the colour of beetroot as he came to deliver a light punch of his own. ‘Nah then, you old bugger!’ The name was Irish, but the accent was Yorkshire. ‘What’re you after? Well, it must be summat – you only come when you want owt’.’

  ‘You’ll never guess,’ smirked his wife, then said to the children, ‘Go on, you bairns, get your pop, then you can have some cake when you get back!’

  They tore off to the shop, lending the adults sufficient time for Niall to outline his tale of woe.

  ‘Married, eh?’ breathed his friend thoughtfully, at Niall’s conclusion.

  ‘Aye, but he turned out to be a bad un,’ explained Niall, ‘and she’s going to get a divorce as soon as she traces him.’ He took a deep breath, his thoughtful eyes fixed on the stain that ran around the lower half of the living room, a watermark of previous flooding. ‘Trouble is, we don’t know how long that’ll be …’

  ‘Well, we don’t mind putting you all up till then—’ began Reilly.

  But Niall cut him off with a laugh. ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean that! It should only take a couple of days for Nora to take the hint and clear out. Soon as she does, we’ll be out of your way. I can’t tell you how good this is of you both.’

  ‘You stay as long as you want, son!’ said the other firmly. ‘Your house is my house – no sorry, I meant my house is your house. Nora’s got your house, hasn’t she?’

  ‘All right, don’t rub it in, you old sod,’ laughed Niall.

  ‘No, I mean it,’ said his friend more sincerely, echoed by Eileen. ‘Stay as long as you like. I ask but one thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Niall knew it could not involve finance, Reilly being the most generous man he knew.

  ‘That you fetch this lass to meet us this very night,’ said Reilly. ‘’Cause I won’t believe it till I hear it with me own lugs that somebody could really be called Boadicea!’

  But Reilly was to find out later on that there truly was a woman named Boadicea, and she was every bit as lovely as his old friend Niall had described. Whilst Aunt Eileen put the children to bed – a squeeze for sure, but nothing worse than they had experienced at home – Niall went to the Preciouses’ to collect his lady love, and fetch her back to his new lodgings, using the money Reilly had given him to buy some bottles of beer on the way.

  Naturally, within minutes, they were getting on famously, Reilly having a similar sense of humour to Boadicea. Even so, the latter initially showed reluctance to use just his surname, saying the least she could do was append a Mister. ‘I can’t just call you Reilly!’ Twouldn’t be right after all this hospitality you’ve shown Niall and myself.’

  ‘Why not?’ enquired Reilly. ‘Me wife does. No respect at all. You call me what you like, blossom.’

  ‘He’s trying to avoid telling you his Christian name, love,’ Eileen informed her. ‘He won’t let anybody use it, not even me.’

  ‘Sure, it can’t be worse than mine,’ laughed Boadicea.

  ‘Well, no, that’s true,’ Reilly accepted this, then kept his face straight to joke, ‘But I’m obviously not as ame
nable to ridicule as you are.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a good one!’ she parried. ‘With an accent like that!’

  Eileen shared her amusement. ‘Aye, it is funny when you think of it: all these Irish names round here – and every accent a Yorkshire one.’ Then she looked sympathetic and shook her head, ‘Eh, it was a dirty trick of Father Finnegan’s, making you lose your job …’

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ agreed Niall. ‘Still, I suppose I should be grateful Mr Langan isn’t the vindictive sort. If he’d been going to involve the police I would have had a visit by now. And being objective, I can see there was nowt he could do really against Father Finnegan’s blackmail. Well, he needn’t think I’m off to Mass on Sunday. If that’s how he’s going to treat a faithful Catholic …’

  Boadicea passed him a cynical smile. ‘I think you might be missing the point here, Niall – it’s because I’m not a good Catholic, and neither are you.’

  ‘Aye, well …’ Niall gave a snort. ‘I’m not off to his bloody Mass anyroad.’

  ‘What about the kids?’ Eileen asked him.

  ‘They can still go. I don’t want them getting a clattering on Monday at school because of me.’

  ‘They can come with us,’ she offered.

  Niall was quick to accept this. ‘Aye, thanks. If there’s nobody with them Nora might kidnap them – well, why not? She’s taken everything else.’

  Everyone moved their heads in agreement, then fell silent for a moment.

  Then Boadicea drained the last drop of stout from her glass. ‘Well, I shall have to pay a visit. Is it in the yard?’

  Reilly jumped up to point the way to the lavatory. ‘Shall I put the outside light on?’

  ‘No, I can see, thanks!’ She disappeared.

  ‘Stick it on anyway,’ Eileen advised her husband.

  ‘She’ll be tripping over summat. Eh, the nights are drawing in now, aren’t they, Nye? There’s a right autumn feel to the air – soon be Christmas.’

  ‘It’s nearly four months off yet, you daft bugger!’ complained Reilly, sitting down again.

  ‘Eh, the way he talks to me!’ But Eileen was used to it.

  Reilly returned to the topic of Boadicea’s unemployment. ‘Is it bar work your lass’d be wanting again? I might be able to help.’

  ‘Seeing as he’s always in one bar or another,’ vilified Eileen.

  Niall laughed. ‘I suppose so – but, truth be known, I think she could get any job she went for. She’s that bright – not just to talk to, but on paper as well. I know because she got all these qualifications at school. She wasn’t boasting, she just let it slip when we were talking about our education, as you do. So I don’t know why she’d prefer being a barmaid, but if that’s the sort of work she likes …’ He shrugged, then spoke of something else that puzzled him even more. ‘How anyone could leave such a lovely intelligent woman—’ he broke off and smiled as the back door opened, and Boadicea returned to sit by him.

  ‘People clam up at your entry?’ Boadicea posed the question to herself. ‘They must have been talking about you!’ But she smiled at her audience.

  ‘Don’t worry, love,’ said Reilly. ‘It was all good – and I have to agree with every word he said! Actually, we were just on about finding you a job. Niall tells us you prefer bar work.’

  ‘Ah, well, I do,’ replied Boadicea, ‘though it’s more a case of expediency. It lends you the opportunity to move at short notice if trouble arises. Landlords tend not to ask for references, being cute enough judges of character in their own right.’

  ‘The last one wasn’t a very good judge of character,’ Niall reminded her.

  She turned to him. ‘He was saving his own skin, Nye. That’s understandable.’

  Reilly finished his piece, ‘Well, any way that me and Eileen can help you, we will.’

  Glad that there was someone of his close acquaintance who got on with Boadicea, later that night Niall took her home, and shared a lingering kiss before returning to partake in a cup of bedtime cocoa with his friends.

  ‘Well, what do you think to her?’ he saw no harm in asking.

  ‘As honest as the day is long,’ announced Reilly with great certainly. ‘You can tell by her eyes. We were just saying, weren’t we, Eileen? The pair of you are made for each other. Aye, you’ve found yourself a good un, Nye.’ His voice was laden with approval. ‘Not just a nice lass, but quite a beauty an’ all – and she’s fair smitten with you.’

  Having been unsure, so many others against this relationship, Niall was glad of confirmation that he had not been imagining it, that Bo really did possess the same noble feelings that he had for her. His chest swelled with relief and happiness – though there was still one important hurdle to clear.

  And as he dragged his weary body off to bed, he hoped that it would not be too long before Nora saw sense, so that he might repossess his home.

  Alas, three nights later, Niall and his family were still living with the Reillys. Passing close to their old house every day on their way to school, the children would have liked to call in on their grandmother, but their father had forbidden it, at least for the time being.

  ‘As soon as she’s living with your Aunt Harriet, you’ll be free to visit her,’ he told them. For, if Nora was given the idea that she could have her cake and eat it, she would stay exactly where she was.

  However, this was not to say he was unconcerned over what might be taking place in his property, and therefore he was to keep his eyes and ears open for any signal that Nora had vacated it. But even this did not prepare him for the sight of his own wardrobe on display in Walmgate, as he went home from work that Saturday afternoon. A distinctive piece, its ornamental pediment being very familiar after twenty-five years staring at it from his bed every day, he recognised it at once, and stood there gawping at it for a moment in the dealer’s window, before going inside – only to spot many more items of his furniture within, including his personal armchair. He tried to tell the new owner that they had not been Mrs Beasty’s to sell, but this was to hold no sway, and he was forced to leave.

  ‘That’s why she’s taken so long to shift!’ he damned Nora to his hosts, upon his indignant arrival home. ‘She’s been biding her time, getting rid of all my stuff!’

  Reilly sympathised; his wife too. ‘But look on the bright side,’ soothed Eileen, ‘if most of your furniture was there, it must be a sign that she’s finally gone.’

  ‘That’s true. Right, I’m off to have a look.’ But it was not an encouraging task, and Niall betrayed nerves as he steeled himself to go.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Reilly offered.

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ murmured Niall. ‘Just keep the kids from following me.’ They were playing out in the street with some new friends. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to find.’

  It was worse than he could have imagined. Everything of value had gone, but so too had the faded curtains, which could be of no use to anyone. Even the lino had been removed. That which Nora had been unable to sell, and which she did not require herself, lay smashed upon the floor – old crockery and pictures, not one item undamaged. Apart from the rubbish littering its floor, the place was entirely empty. She had even taken the children’s beds and their few toys. How could the spiteful old witch deprive her own grandchildren? Left with not even a sweeping brush, and knowing that any request to Mrs Lavelle would receive short shrift, Niall used his boot to scrape the shards of pottery and glass into as tidy a pile as he could. His friends would help him do it properly later on.

  Then, with a sigh, he stood to think. How could he bring his children back here when there was not a stick to sit upon? And yet, and yet … even in her evil deed, his mother-in-law might just have done him a favour, thought Niall. For, standing in that living room, its awful monstrosity removed – not just Nora, but her colossal sideboard – he felt it could have been a brand-new house, the light flooding in and reaching all corners of the room, making it look much larger, more we
lcoming than it had ever felt in Nora’s presence. Moreover, he had got his front parlour back. All right, it would take a lot of money to replace the furniture, and yes it had been an awful assault, but it was not the end of the world. Now he could begin his new life.

  Going to collect Boadicea, Niall took her first to see his empty house, and then to have a cup of tea and a very late lunch with the Reillys. Over sandwiches, there was to be much discussion about what might be done. Naturally, he and his family would have to stay here a while longer, but Reilly and Eileen refused to be fazed by this.

  ‘We’ve told you, stay as long as you want,’ said Eileen. ‘You can’t go back till you’ve got some furniture.’

  It would be impossible to buy back his own from the dealer, for that would require a large outlay of cash, which Niall did not have. The only way forward seemed to be hire purchase. ‘I wish I hadn’t ripped out that old Yorkshire range now,’ he sighed. ‘At least we’d have something to cook on.’ Nora had even removed the gas oven.

  ‘You can get a gorgeous seven-piece suite at Jay’s for a few bob a week.’ Eileen turned dreamy, having coveted the items on display.

  Reilly issued a confidence to his friend. ‘She’s not very good at cookery,’ he said in a loud whisper, before turning to his wife and mouthing cheerfully as if to an imbecile, ‘This might come as a surprise, but you can’t fry an egg on a seven- piece suite, love.’ He procured the laugh he desired, though suffered a slap from his wife.