“How’s your sister doing in London?”
“Oh she’s fine. Her baby is due soon. I’ll be an Aunty!”
She couldn’t gauge his expression. Perhaps he was worried in case she might become broody. Whatever it was it soon faded.
“I don’t know about you, but I fancy a trip to London. I may have a development opportunity coming up soon.”
Miriam snuggled into him.
“That doesn’t mean you’re going to leave me in Dublin does it?”
“No, I’ll be back and forth.”
When they’d finished their whiskies, they went downstairs to the restaurant. They were the only diners there, forcing them to speak in whispers, whilst the waiters were eavesdropping.
“I don’t think they can understand a word that we are saying, they are all French, I think!” Len laughed.
They shared their Parisian moment with a bottle, or was it two of Chablis? They then walked round the quay and stared out to sea at the moon reflecting on the water. They then popped in to a local pub, where a local band was playing some Irish folk music. The place was full of Irish singers dancing and laughing, clapping and stamping their feet to the rhythm. They joined in with the rest of them, polishing off a few night caps before retiring to their bedroom, with not a care in the world.
For many weeks after that, when they returned to Dublin, Miriam would stay at his flat, just off Parnell Square. Despite his love of modern architecture, his flat was in a beautiful Georgian building, filled with glorious antiques. Her sister gave birth to a baby girl, Charlotte. Their lives were falling blissfully into place.
MARJORIE 1966
LONDON
BY NOW THEIR relationship had fallen in to a routine and Marjorie would spend most of her time with Arthur. Her biological clock was ticking. She was now forty-three years of age and soon she wouldn’t be able to have children. Arthur and she, had started to talk about marriage and what effect it would have on Arthur’s sons. Marjorie thought they liked her, but she had never plucked up the courage to ask Arthur about it. She had always worried about rejection in her life, ever since boarding school. The fear of being too fat. The fear that the girls in her class, didn’t like her enough. But for now, time was not on her side.
“Have you asked the boys whether they would approve of us getting married?”
Marjorie plucked up the courage and asked, as they were sat in a pub off Hadley Green, nursing two halves of cider.
“No.” He replied. “But I know they like you and that they are not that fond of their mother.”
“She must have hurt them badly, if they don’t love her.”
“Oh she was a bad mother and a bad wife. I never thought I would find love again as I’ve found with you. That’s why I want us to get married. I know you don’t speak of it, but you must want children.”
“There is nothing I would rather have in all the world with you and I’m not getting any younger.” She replied with a knowing smile.
“I’m glad I waited all this time for you to come along, as had I married sooner I would never have known what it was like to meet a true soulmate.”
At that point, a tiny sparrow, landed on the wooden table, pecked on a few discarded crumbs and then darted off again. The birds were singing in the background. You could hear the faint rumbling of the traffic in the distance.
“You know, if we do get married, we probably won’t be able to get married in a church. They don’t tend to approve of divorcees, you know.”
With that he slowly circled the edge of his glass with his forefinger.
“We can always get married in a Registry Office.” Marjorie replied. “It doesn’t mean God doesn’t approve.”
They continued to sit opposite each other taking small gulps from the refreshing cider. In the background they could hear the faint hum of a lawnmower, from someone cutting the grass. It left a delicious smell of greenery in the air. The pub was starting to fill up with people, popping in for a quick pint after work. The wooden benches stretched out on to the common, packed with city workers just back from their commute. The laughter crescendoed as the pints kept rolling in.
“Lets go back to Dalmeny Road. I’ve got something to show you.”
With that he picked up his brief case and overcoat and they made their way to the car. She didn’t offer to drive on this occasion. She liked it when he took control. The car smelt of old leather, newly polished the previous weekend. The walnut dashboard glowed in the evening sunlight. She turned her head towards Arthur to see the light reflecting on his slightly ruffled hair.
When they got back to his house, Arthur told Marjorie to go in to the garden, whilst he fetched two sherry glasses. The evening song birds were now in full flourish. A slow faint breeze, rustled through the willow trees. She could hear Arthur place the glasses down on the sideboard and walk to the living room to turn on the radio. A few minutes later, she heard the sound of Mozart emanate through the kitchen windows.
“Here, take this,” he said handing her a glass. He then placed his hands in his trouser pockets and brought out an exquisite little leather square box lightly embossed with gold.
“I’m not very good at getting down on one bended knee, I’m afraid, but I think you know what is coming.”
She smiled. In all the time she had known Arthur he was not very good at keeping a secret. She had anticipated he would ask sooner rather than later. She jumped up and flung her arms around his warm neck. She could feel the hairs on his neck, standing up on end, beneath his aromatic aftershave.
“Of course I will,” she said, with tears in her eyes. He handed her the box, inside of which was a beautiful diamond and ruby ring, the one she had seen at the jewellers, the previous weekend but had not said anything, fearing it was too expensive. She gingerly handed him the ring to put on her wedding finger. She then turned her hand to allow the evening sun to cast a reflection on the stones.
“It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
That night they watched the sun go down with only each other for company. They discussed who they would invite to the wedding and where the wedding should take place. They also made sure they put in a telephone call to his boys who were both over the moon for them. They didn’t want the wedding to be a grand affair, just a few close family and friends. As this was the second time for both of them they didn’t want a fuss.
“I don’t want to rush things, but I’d love to get married sooner rather than later.”
“Me too.”
Her life was now complete. All they had to do was finalize the arrangements. Over the next few weeks they approached a number of vicars. They wanted God’s blessing, but they all politely declined. They were of the opinion that they should settle for a Registry Office. Finally a friend of hers, Joy suggested she try the chapel at Westminster Abbey.
“He is a very nice vicar and I have heard that he does sanctify second marriages.”
“I’m not being funny, but doesn’t it sound a bit grand, Westminster Abbey I mean. We both agreed we wanted a low key affair.”
“It won’t be in the main Abbey, it will just be in the small chapel to the right. If you have a word with him and meet him I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier.”
The service was arranged and only close family were invited. Apart from having to negotiate the crowds of tourists trying to visit the Abbey, the service went without a hitch and they were duly blessed by the vicar and made their vows.
“To have and to hold from this day forward, until death us do part.”
When the ceremony was finished they gathered outside in the sunshine to have their photographs taken. The bells chimed against the thunderous commuter traffic outside the gardens of Westminster. She saw a lifetime together of sharing everything that day. Her life suddenly felt so complete. By having God’s blessing, she felt nothing could harm them or take them away from each other.
After the honeymoon in the Channel Islands, spent with lots of lazy days on
the beaches, they pretty much settled into married life in Dalmeny Road. Marjorie was the epitome housewife, cleaning the house, ironing Arthur’s shirts for his next day at work and cooking supper for when he returned home. Arthur would be exhausted after his long hours at work in the City, but they would always make time for each other. She would never pry him about work, because in any event most of what he did was above her head. She made sure that once Arthur was home nothing else should pray on his mind. At the weekends, they would take a long walk in the woods and sometimes visit the local pub. These were happy times. There was no threat of war or anything else to take this away from them.
The only thing missing in their lives was a child.
MIRIAM 1967
DUBLIN
AS THE MONTHS went by, Miriam felt sure of her feelings for Len. He was a charmer and she knew that he was attractive to most women, but there again she was attractive to most men. She knew his colleagues fancied her even though they dare not make a pass at her. They knew that she belonged to Len. He would always put a protective arm around her. He would never let go of her eyes in his company. He would send her little notes of affection when she was not with him. She had fallen for him, but had no idea, if he had fallen for her.
It was a cold winters day in February 1967, in the lead up to Valentines Day, when Miriam realized she had missed her period by three weeks. That morning she called in sick to work and made an appointment to see a doctor in Harcourt Street, Dr Riley. She counted the numbers along the street. It was a road that seemed to go on forever. She found the right one, number twenty four. It was a rather grand georgian building. It looked more like an office than a clinic. She paused by the front door, catching her breath. She held her bag with both hands in front of her and nudged the door open. The waiting room was to the left of the entrance hall and had about ten people waiting. There was rather an ornate fireplace with a small gas fire. On the coffee table were piles of magazines with stick-thin models such as Twiggy, showing the latest sixties fashion. How Miriam longed to be on one of those covers right now. Slowly people came in and out of the doctor’s surgery. The receptionist, directed each person to their appointments, when it was their turn. Surely, she couldn’t be pregnant, they had been so careful?
“Miriam Sullivan-Cody?”
She stood up and looked around her. She didn’t look pregnant or feel pregnant even. She gingerly opened the door and went to sit down in front of Dr Riley. She was a woman in her forties with slicked-back blond hair and glasses. Her hand shake was brisk.
“So, how can I help you then?”
“I think I may be pregnant.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
A silence hung in the air. She looked Miriam straight in the eyes and with clinical composure took out a small plastic package.
“Well then, we will need to keep this discreet. You will need to do a urine sample in the toilet outside and then come back, so that we can take the test.”
She handed Miriam a small test tube and with that, she exited the room to go to the toilet. Is this how her sister felt all those months ago when she found out she was pregnant with Charlotte? Did she have that horrible pit feeling in her stomach? She made her way to the ladies’ toilet, past the line of eyes watching her. Once in the toilet, she pulled on the light and looked in the mirror. She put her bag down on the floor and did the urine sample. She then made her way back to the waiting room, past the other patients waiting, to see the doctor.
The doctor opened a drawer from her desk and took out a small testing kit. She took her urine sample, which Miriam had handed to her and with a pipette put two drops of clear liquid in to her test tube sample.
“This shouldn’t take long.”
She watched as the test tube gradually changed colour from a golden yellow to a deep blue hue. Miriam’s entire future lay with that test tube. She saw the doctor scrutinize the colour with a chart. For a few moments, she wondered, what the doctor was looking at. It simply could not take that long to look at a sample.
“I’m afraid it’s bad news, or good news, however you want to take it, you are pregnant.”
The tears welled up in Miriam’s eyes, waiting to fall. She reached for a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes.
“If you are considering the possibility of terminating this pregnancy, then I strongly suggest that you go by recommendation.”
With that the doctor filled out a form for Miriam to sign and then she picked up her bag and walked back through reception. The surgery was now full of people. No one was talking to anyone else, anxious not to acknowledge that there was anyone in the room.
Miriam left the surgery in a whirlwind of emotions. How would Len take it? How could she now pursue a career in fashion design? This was not part of the plan. Her parents would go berserk. They couldn’t handle this twice. The indignity of it all. She wandered the streets aimlessly. Suddenly the buildings held no comfort for her any more. She longed to be by the sea, to feel the ebb and tide of the ocean. Is this what God had destined for her? Inside her was another life, a symbol of the love she had for Len. She couldn’t tell Len just yet. She needed to collect her thoughts.
She made her way to the Arbour Hill Cemetery, just north of Odlins barracks. This small cemetery was the final resting place of all the fourteen executed Leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising. The burial ground was plain with the fourteen names inscribed in stone. Beside the graves, was a cenotaph, bearing the Easter Proclammation. She could not imagine ending this life she had just begun. She sat on a stone wall, tears streaming down her face. She felt angry with herself for getting herself in to this situation, particularly after her sister’s predicament. What would she say?
When she got back to her apartment, Len called.
“Do you fancy meeting up later?”
She steadied herself against the console in the hallway and looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her. Her eyes were heavy and red. There was no way she could meet up with Len in this state.
“You know what, can we leave it until Valentine’s day? I’m not feeling so good.”
She knew Len would find this strange. She never normally passed him up on a drink. A small silence ensued.
“You’re not pregnant are you? Heaven forbid.” He said laughing hesitantly.
“No.”
“Well I guess I’ll just have to wait until Valentine’s day then. I’ve booked Wheelers. See you at seven.”
And with that Miriam curled up on the sofa and sobbed and sobbed. Something was telling her that Len wouldn’t want this baby. But surely their love was greater than that? Had he not told her that he loved her in as many words? He wasn’t married anymore. There was no reason why they couldn’t marry. Surely, their love would transcend everything?”
Later that week they met at the restaurant as arranged. The restaurant was packed with couples, having a romantic evening together. The tone was subdued and intimate. There were candles and roses adorning every table. Champagne corks were popping. After exchanging polite small talk, Miriam could sense that Len suspected something was wrong.
“You don’t appear your usual self darling. Is there something I have done to offend you?”
“Oh no, it’s just that there is something I have to tell you and I don’t think you’ll feel like a champagne celebration when I’ve told you.”
There was a long prolonged silence.
“I’m pregnant.”
Len didn’t respond. She stared at his cold expression, unable to read his face. His eyes were avoiding her gaze. He slowly took a sip of the champagne in front of him. Surely he felt something, anything?”
“I’m not ready for another child Miriam.”
“Neither am I, I mean this is my first, but surely you don’t want to get rid of it?” she whispered. “Our child.”
“I will pay for everything you need Miriam. I will even pay for you to go to England, but I do not want this baby.”
M
iriam stared straight at him. Surely he felt some emotion, surely he couldn’t just leave her to deal with this on her own? Weren’t these things up for negotiation? He made it seem so final. Tears were streaming down her face now. With whatever dignity she had left, she got up and left the restaurant. She ran down the street past Brown Thomas. She needed to get home to her apartment where she felt safe. She needed a drink. She passed many couples holding hands and kissing. This was how Len and her used to be. Not now.
She could hear footsteps behind her. She turned round and could see Len chasing her. Right now all she wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. Her feet carried her away faster and faster. All she could see ahead of her was oblivion. Somehow she managed to find her way back to the apartment. As she was struggling with the keys she could hear Len behind her.
“Miriam, let me help you with those.”
“Not now.” She spat “ Happy Valentines Day.”
And with that she opened and slammed the front door to her apartment behind her and curled up in a heap on the floor. Never had she loved so much and lost so much that evening. If only she could turn back the clock of time.
The following few days she just slept and slept. She couldn’t bear the thought of going into work and phoned in sick. Her life was now officially a mess. She couldn’t think straight. Thoughts of Len and his reaction haunted her. Every time the phone rang she wouldn’t pick it up for fear it was him. Eventually she got a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s David. Can I come in?”
She slowly opened the door. Her kind friend had come to see her.
“You look awful! Darling we have been worried sick about you. Len told Pat you’d split up. Come here my pet.”
And with that Miriam burst into tears and told him the details. David knew how to be discreet having remained steadfastly gay for many years.
“You do realize you’ll have to get an illegal abortion.” He said, handing her a warm brew of freshly made tea.
Abandoned Love Page 7
