The Wasted Years

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by Mary Larkin


  A week before the wedding, her last day at work until after her honeymoon, she came through the factory gates laughing and happy. She was covered in confetti and in her arms carried a large box, her present from the girls in work. The laughter died on her lips and her step faltered when she saw him standing there, magnificent in his Merchant Navy uniform; the target of many admiring eyes. Then she was past him, almost running in her haste, her stupid heart thumping against her ribs, panic gripping her. Dear God, why was this happening to her? She did not want to feel like this. Why couldn’t he have stayed away another week and then she would be safely married to Joe?

  His long strides quickly caught up with her and, gripping her by the elbow, he forced her to slow down, at the same time throwing May a look which she rightly interpreted as, ‘Get lost.’

  Seeing May scurry out of sight, Rosaleen turned and faced him.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come. I have nothing to say to you.’

  ‘Why didn’t you answer my letters?’

  ‘I’ve already told you why – I have nothing to say to you, Sean Devlin. Don’t you understand? I’m marrying Joe next week and that’s that!’

  ‘Is that box heavy? Here, let me carry it.’

  ‘No!’ She resisted his efforts to take the box from her. ‘No … I can manage it myself, thank you.’

  ‘Are you going to the Club Orchid tonight?’

  ‘Listen you!’ she cried in exasperation. ‘I’m going to the dance with the girls out of work tonight and I don’t want you coming and spoiling it for me. Do you hear me? Leave me alone!’

  With these words she stormed ahead and he let her go. She would be at the dance tonight and whether she liked it or not, so would he. Grimly, he nodded his head. Oh, yes, he would be at the Club Orchid tonight. Just let anyone try to keep him away!’

  That night, he was the first person she saw when she entered the ballroom. He was dancing with a tall, attractive girl, whom, to her shame, she found herself avidly examining.

  The evening was nearly over and although he had danced with May, Sean did not ask Rosaleen to dance with him. Annoyed for feeling peeved, Rosaleen reminded herself that she had warned him not to annoy her, had told him to leave her alone. And even if he had asked her to dance, she would have refused him. Wouldn’t she? Still, she felt slighted and covertly watched him, annoyed with herself for noticing that he did not dance with any one girl in particular.

  It was the last dance and she was moving sadly on to the dance floor with a partner when Sean appeared. Taking her firmly by the arm, he said, ‘Sorry, but she promised me the last dance.’

  Before she could object, he swept her into his arms and on to the dance floor.

  Her heart was racing and she held herself stiff in his arms.

  ‘You had no right to do that!’ she stormed up at him, annoyed yet excited at the effect he was having on her.

  ‘Would you have danced with me if I had asked you to?’

  ‘No!’

  Her shake of the head was definite and he said, ‘That’s why I did what I did.’ He gave her a little shake. ‘Relax, for heaven’s sake. I’m not going to bite you.’

  He was a terrific dancer, long smooth strides covering the floor expertly, and in spite of herself, she relaxed against him and they twirled around the floor as one. They danced in silence, each aware of the magic bond that held them, and as the music came to an end, he steered her over to the cloakroom door.

  ‘I’m seeing you home, so tell your friends to go on.’ She opened her mouth to protest and he growled, ‘Do you want me to make a scene?’

  When she hesitated, he insisted, ‘I will, you know. I intend talking to you, whether you listen or not.’

  ‘It won’t make any difference,’ she muttered. ‘You’re wasting your time. My mind’s made up.’

  ‘Then you have nothing to worry about,’ he assured her, and abruptly turned away, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll see you outside.’

  When she told May that Sean was walking her home, her friend eyed her with concern.

  ‘Do you want me to tag along?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘No, no … it’s all right. I can look after myself. You go home with the rest of the girls and I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.’

  It was a beautiful, moonlit night and they dandered up Castle Street in silence. At Victor’s Ice Cream Parlour in Divis Street, famous for its Italian ice cream, he stopped and bought two ice-cream cones.

  She had to smile when he handed her a cone with a flourish, as if he was giving her the crown jewels.

  He’s very handsome, she admitted to herself, as she observed his straight nose and strong jaw. But then, so is Joe, she reminded herself. Once Joe and she were married and her frustration was at an end, she would not be attracted to another man. She would be fulfilled and need no other.

  It came as a surprise to her when they arrived at Colinward Street. They had so much in common, so many shared interests to talk about, that the time had flown. It was with regret that she offered him her hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled it through his arm and drew her on up the Springfield Road.

  When she tried to break away from him, he begged, ‘Please, Rosaleen. I may never see you again, please walk with me for a while.’

  Against her better judgement she did as he asked. When they arrived at the Dam, that dark lonely place frequented by lovers, he steered her off the road and down a grassy bank.

  She felt uneasy. She never liked being near the Dam, even in daylight. Too many people had drowned in it. Some accidentally, some by choice. Nevertheless, it was a favourite spot for courting couples, full of shadows and corners. Of course Joe would never dream of taking here here, he respected her too much, yet here she was with a stranger. But she did not really feel that Sean was a stranger. She felt as if she had known him all her life. It was not him she was afraid of, it was her own emotions. Feeling panic rise, she realised that this was an occasion of sin. Did the priests not warn them to stay away from lonely places when out with boys?

  ‘I must go home,’ she cried, and twisting out of Sean’s hold, she started back up the grassy bank, but he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her down again, into his arms. Her heart was racing and he was aware of her agitation.

  ‘Don’t be afraid, Rosaleen,’ he whispered softly. ‘I won’t harm you.’

  His hands caressed her back, sending sensual tremors shivering along the edge of her nerves, and in spite of her misgivings she sank against him, excitement a tight knot in her groin. In the moonlight her eyes were pale and glittered like diamonds, and her hair was like silvered silk. The moon’s light was ghostly and as she cast apprehensive glances around in the eerie light, she shivered. Sean opened his jacket and drew her against the warmth of his body.

  ‘Are you cold?’ he asked, wrapping his jacket around her. She shook her head, her hair swaying like a silver bell. He put his lips against its perfumed softness and his pulse quickened. Excitement sent the blood pounding through his veins. He groaned, feeling real pain at the very thought that she was to wed another. He had to stop her. Aware of his anguish she drew back, looking up at him askance.

  ‘You can’t marry Joe,’ he cried. ‘I won’t let you. Do you hear me? I won’t let you.’

  ‘Tut! Of course I’m marrying Joe. Don’t you realise my parents have spent all their savings on this wedding? Haven’t I told you Joe has bought and decorated a house?’ she cried, annoyed at his persistence.

  His grip on her tightened. ‘You wouldn’t be the first girl to realise she had made a mistake.’

  This really riled her. ‘Oh, but I haven’t made a mistake! I love Joe,’ she cried in exasperation. ‘And next Saturday I’m marrying him.’

  ‘Then why are you here with me?’ he asked quickly. ‘Eh? Tell me why.’

  ‘Because I felt sorry for you, that’s why,’ she hissed, and once more turned to leave him.

  He pulled her roughly back against him. ‘Sorry for me? Sorry fo
r me?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Well now, let’s see a little more of your pity.’ His grip on her tightened and his lips savaged hers.

  She stood rigid, fear a tight knot in her stomach, as his lips angrily bruised hers, crushing them against her teeth; making her wince.

  Coming to his senses, he turned aside, apologising.

  ‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry … forgive me. I had no right to do that.’

  He sounded so upset, compassion overcame her fear. Pulling him around towards her, her hands tenderly brushed his face.

  ‘Hush … hush. It’s all right … it’s all right,’ she soothed him.

  Gently now, he pressed her close and his lips touched her face. She lapped it up, enjoying the sensual tremors that were rippling through her body; the mounting excitement. Why couldn’t Joe kiss her like this, instead of constantly pushing her away and telling her they must wait? Surely kisses like this were not a sin?

  Unconsciously, her face moved restlessly until his lips found hers, and as his kisses became more insistent, her arms crept up around his neck, and she returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress; pressing urgently against the hard lines of his body. When his hands gently explored her, seeking out the forbidden places, she knew why Joe did not take chances. This was wrong, one part of her mind insisted. Very wrong! She knew she should push him away, stop him, but her body would not obey her mind as his hands brought her to the edge of ecstasy, and over, and soon it was too late. There in the shadows they came together as naturally as night follows day. It was the easiest thing in the world. Not awful, as she had been led to believe, and she lost all track of time as he made her his own. Lost in a well of passion that carried them above all reason, senses alive to nothing but each other, they were as one.

  They clung together for a long time, at peace with the world, but at last he pushed her gently away, until he could see into her eyes.

  ‘Now do you know why you can’t marry Joe? You’re mine! All mine! We were meant for each other. I knew it the minute I saw you.’

  His voice was gentle and confident, and smug.

  It was the smugness that came across to Rosaleen as sanity returned and she realised just what she had done. She stood aghast, panic setting in. Was she mad? A week before her wedding and she had given herself to another man. She was a whore. A tart. A sinner. Dear God … how could she have been so stupid? How could she have done this terrible thing?

  Appalled, she hurriedly adjusted her clothing and groped about on the grass for her handbag. Without looking at him, she started to clamber up the grassy bank. Sean took her arm to assist her, aware that all was far from well, but not knowing why. Surely she understood? Hadn’t he proved to her that they were meant for each other? Angrily, Rosaleen shook him off, hitting out at him with her handbag, deep sobs choking her.

  Once up the slope she almost ran down the Springfield Road, the tears blinding her, and when he followed close behind, she rounded on him and hissed, ‘Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Go away. I never want to see you again.’

  ‘You’re being a fool, Rosaleen. You can’t possibly marry Joe after what happened back there.’ His voice became pleading. ‘Ah, Rosaleen, I love you. I love you so much. Surely you know that? Don’t you feel the same?’

  Stopping in her tracks she rounded on him. ‘Love? You call what happened back there love? That was lust! We were like two animals. Now I know why Joe insists that we don’t pet. That’s what happens when you pet. You lose control and act like animals.’ Her voice broke and she swallowed deeply before continuing. ‘Let me tell you something, Sean Devlin. Joe wouldn’t have lost control. In fact, he respects me too much to take me to a place like that. That’s the difference between you and him. He respects me.’

  Stunned at her words, he grabbed her and pushed her roughly against the wall.

  ‘I love you! That’s why that happened. Believe me, if I hadn’t loved you, it wouldn’t have. I’m no fool, I know the difference between lust and love… and you wanted it too, so don’t act innocent with me,’ he growled.

  She stood, head averted, lips tightly pressed together, and he cried, ‘Ah, Rosaleen, you wanted it too. Come on now, love, don’t deny it. Don’t put all the blame on me,’ he begged, wanting to reach her, but he pleaded in vain.

  ‘If you’re quite finished, I’d like to go home.’

  Her voice was cold, lifeless, and he knew he had lost her. He had not meant to take her. Not like that! No, he had wanted to woo her with flowers and gifts, but time was against him and he had let himself get carried away. He bitterly regretted his actions, but it was too late. At the contempt in her eyes, his arms fell limply to his sides and without another glance, she left him.

  He watched until she turned the corner of Colinward Street and then he went to the corner and watched until she entered her own doorway. It was late and he wanted to be sure she got home safely. Then, with steps that dragged, he continued down the Springfield Road, his heart a heavy lump in his breast.

  Inside the small hall, Rosaleen wiped her face and tried to compose herself. She knew her mother would still be downstairs; she never retired until Rosaleen and Annie were indoors. Sure enough, the light was on in the kitchen. Opening the door, she stayed in its shadow and said, ‘Goodnight, Mam.’ But she was not going to be let off the hook.

  ‘Come in here a minnit!’ her mother ordered, and slowly Rosaleen entered the room.

  ‘You’re late t’night! Were you with Joe?’

  Her mother sounded suspicious and seeing her nose twitch, Rosaleen’s heart missed a beat, feeling sure she could smell the sex on her; she felt she stank of it.

  She lied abruptly. ‘Yes, I was. I’m tired, Mam, I’m going to bed.’

  And before her mother could ask any more questions, she withdrew into the hall. Climbing the stairs, she entered the room she shared with her young sister Annie, wishing they had a bathroom. She felt so dirty; wicked and dirty.

  It was easy running away from her mother, but not so easy to escape her conscience. If only she had come home with May. Would Joe guess that she was not a virgin when they spent their first night together? Only one more week and she would have experienced that wonderful pleasure with Joe. Oh, why hadn’t she come straight home? How could she have been so stupid?

  Oh, dear God, please forgive me. Please don’t let Joe guess and help me make him a good wife, she prayed earnestly on her knees, before crawling into bed beside Annie.

  As she tossed and turned, causing Annie to twitch irritably at the bedclothes, she realised that at least now she would not be afraid on her wedding night. Some girls said that it was awful the first time, and a lot said that it didn’t get much better but once the kids came they compensated for everything. Well, she shouldn’t have listened to gossip. She had thought it wonderful. The most natural thing in the world. It had just been the wrong man. One thing she was sure of, she was going to enjoy married life.

  May was surprised when, leaving the factory on Monday night, she saw Sean waiting at the corner of Cupar Street. He approached her. She was horrified at his appearance. He looked as if he had not slept for a week. When he humbly asked her if he could have a word with her she silently nodded her agreement. He walked the full length of Clonard Street with her. Right down to the Falls Road and over to the corner of Spinner Street where she lived, speaking all the while of how much he loved Rosaleen.

  He was in such a state that she took pity on him and promised to try to persuade her friend to meet him once more. And, that night, calling to see Rosaleen, she did try. Pleading his case until she was blue in the face, but to no avail.

  Rosaleen was adamant. Eyeing May reproachfully, she chided, ‘You’ve changed your tune. I thought you didn’t want me to have anything to do with him?’

  ‘I know, Rosaleen, but to tell the truth, I feel sorry for him. He looks awful. Will you not see him just once, and put him out of his misery?’

  ‘No, May. You don’t understand. I like him, I like him a lot, too
much … but I’m marrying Joe.’

  May nodded. She did understand. Once more she lamented the fact that Sean had fallen for Rosaleen. Why could he not have picked her? Rosaleen was lucky to have two handsome men in love with her, but she had made the right choice. Joe would make a better husband and father than a sailor would. There was no doubt whatsoever in May’s mind that Rosaleen had made the right choice.

  Saturday dawned with clear blue skies and Rosaleen made a beautiful bride. Her dress was made of soft, ivory-coloured satin which swirled around her ankles above matching satin shoes, and she carried a bouquet of lilies and freesia. Annie had been horrified at her choice of flowers, saying lilies were for funerals and were considered unlucky. However, Rosaleen loved the waxed, pure beauty of lilies and she was not in the least superstitious. She had two bridesmaids; Annie was in pink, and May in blue, and each carried a small posy of mixed flowers. Oh, yes, her mother had been determined to splash out and Rosaleen felt indebted to her. Her parents too looked splendid in new outfits. The pale blue of her mother’s matching coat and dress made her look younger, and her father was very handsome in his new grey lounge suit. It had all cost a fortune, and there was no way she could have changed her mind. No way! Her parents had scrimped and saved to make her day perfect and she could not have backed out. Not that she had wanted to, she reminded heself. She would soon forget Sean Devlin, now that she was married. All week she had been plagued by doubts, overcome every now and again by memories of the rapture she had felt in his arms, but when she saw the tears of pride in her mother’s eyes, she knew she had done the right thing. Joe was the man for her. Everybody thought so … and surely everybody could not be wrong? She was sorry she had hurt Sean but a handsome man like him would soon find someone else.

 

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