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The Wasted Years

Page 23

by Mary Larkin


  ‘Your husband is a very sick man, Mrs Smith,’ he said, and his voice and face were grave.

  ‘I can see that!’ Rosaleen answered sharply. Did they think that she was blind? ‘Is he going to recover?’

  ‘Well … let me explain. Joseph had a lot of shrapnel in his body. So far he has undergone surgery four times. All successful … but each operation takes a lot out of him. There are still two pieces to remove. One we’ll remove when he has regained his strength from the last operation, but the other piece we can’t touch. It’s lodged close to his heart, too close for surgery.’

  ‘Does that mean he’s going to die?’ Rosaleen asked fearfully, dismay in her heart. Her voice was shrill and she saw the doctor’s eyes narrow.

  ‘Are you feeling all right, Mrs Smith?’ he asked solicitously.

  Inwardly, Rosaleen fumed. Why didn’t he just come out and tell her the truth? Not keep her on edge like this!

  ‘I’m all right. Tell me! Is he going to die?’ she insisted.

  ‘No. At least, we don’t think so. It’s like this … we have experienced cases like this before, and most times the patient has lived to a ripe old age. However, some patients have died young. We shall keep an eye on Joseph, and if the shrapnel moves away from his heart, we will operate. Meanwhile, once we operate on his leg, he can go home and live as normal a life as possible.’

  Rosaleen wanted to question him, ask what would happen if the shrapnel moved towards Joe’s heart, but she held her tongue. After all, didn’t she already know the answer to that?

  It was a further three months before Joe was allowed home from hospital, and when all the well-wishers who had gathered to welcome him home had departed, he lay back on the settee, drained and tired, but happy.

  ‘You know something, Rosaleen? I never thought that I would survive the war. It’s great to be home … and soon I’ll be able to go back to work. I’m proud of the way you’ve been helping Owen to keep the business going.’

  ‘It’ll be a while yet, love, before you’re able to work,’ she said, as she tucked a blanket around him. ‘A long time. But the work’s still rolling in. We’ll never be rich, Joe, but if things keep on the way they’re going, we’ll never want, either.’

  ‘What’s the new man like, Rosaleen? Tell me about him. Is he handsome?’

  Rosaleen looked at him in amazement at these words. What difference did it make whether or not the new man was handsome?

  ‘He’s nice … quiet, and a good worker. He has two children and another on the way.’

  Joe sighed with relief. The new man was married. He could relax.

  Thoughts of children made Rosaleen sad. Laura was now five, and she longed to give her a sister or brother.

  Joe had been through so much, had spent such a long time in hospital, would he ever want to go see about his problem? She doubted it very much.

  By the autumn of 1944, Joe was back at work, looking pale and frail, but except for the recurring nightmares, he seemed to be slowly making a full recovery. To be truthful, he wasn’t able to do much work, just got in the way, but it pleased him to potter about, sort nails into different boxes, plane pieces of wood, and Rosaleen didn’t mind – he was company for her when Owen and Andy, the new man, were out on jobs.

  He attended the hospital once a month, but so far the shrapnel near his heart remained lodged in the same spot and the doctors were inclined to think that it was there for good, and once more assured Rosaleen that her husband would probably live to a ripe old age.

  By the end of 1944, he was more or less back to normal but still pitifully thin, and Rosaleen had become aware that the reason he attended the yard each day was to keep an eye on her. It wasn’t that he felt able for work. No, it was jealousy that brought him down to the yard each day. His jealousy was becoming overbearing.

  He was full of plans for after the war; plans to build a house on the Upper Falls Road, a house with a garden for Laura to play in. When he had first arrived home from hospital, Rosaleen had settled him in the back bedroom, using the excuse that he needed a bed to himself for a while.

  She could see that he didn’t agree with her, but in the months that followed, after a few unsuccessful attempts at love-making, he bothered her no more and they lived as brother and sister. Rosaleen refrained from pestering him to go and see a specialist, hoping that as his health improved he would suggest going himself, but she waited in vain.

  Billy was invalided out of the army early in 1945, and Rosaleen was not surprised when May confided in her that they were going out to Canada. Billy had two uncles out there and if they liked it, they were going to settle.

  ‘I’m happy for you, May, but I’ll miss you,’ she wailed, as she pictured the lonely life ahead of her. May was her only chance of a night away from Joe. He was so possessive and jealous, and only her nights out with her friend and her rare outings with Annie kept her sane.

  ‘Listen, Rosaleen.’ May was only too aware of Joe’s jealousy. ‘You keep on going out. Do you hear me? Get Amy to go to the Broadway with you every week.’

  Rosaleen had to smile at this idea. Amy was being courted by Bobby Mackay and had very little time to spare.

  May saw the smile and realised at once the cause of it. ‘Oh, I forgot. Any word of a wedding yet?’

  Sadly, Rosaleen shook her head. ‘No. I think she’s letting Joe influence her. He doesn’t like Bobby.’

  May’s face grimaced in disbelief and she cried, ‘Doesn’t like Bobby? Sure, you couldn’t dislike Bobby if you tried. He’s a wonderful person, and so good. Joe needs his head examined,’ she finished in disgust.

  ‘I think Joe’s jealous of him. You see, he has always been the only one in Amy’s life and he doesn’t like coming second. And there’s no doubt about it… Bobby comes first with Amy now. She’d be mad at me for saying so, but she’s like a teenager in love.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t she, eh? Why shouldn’t she? She’s been a widow a long time. Joe should be glad that she has met someone to keep her company in her old age. Not that she’s all that old! She can’t be fifty yet.’

  ‘No, forty-seven! She must have married young. I’m surprised that she never remarried. She’s a fine-looking woman … must have been a beauty in her day.’

  ‘Aye, indeed. Anyhow, Rosaleen, it’ll be a while before I go, so let’s not worry until we have to.’

  As usual, May had underestimated Billy. Once he got an idea into his head he neither stopped nor stayed until all arrangements were made, and soon Rosaleen was wishing May a tearful farewell.

  ‘You’ll write, won’t you, Rosaleen?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘And if we like Canada and decide to stay after the war …’ May’s head swivelled to where Joe stood with Billy. ‘Joe … after the war … you’ll bring her to visit us, won’t you?’

  ‘That’s a promise, May. I’ll bring her out to visit you. I’ve always wanted to see Canada and America,’ he assured her and, bathed in tears, May allowed Billy to propel her towards the customs, to enter the plane.

  May’s departure left a great gap in Rosaleen’s life. With Annie being on shifts, she saw little of her, and her mother had got herself a part-time job in Mackie’s Foundry. Four mornings a week she packed ammunition into cartons. Rosaleen was glad to see her filling out, see a bit of colour return to her cheeks, but they could not get her to go out and enjoy herself. Once home from work, she remained indoors and brooded.

  To Rosaleen’s surprise, Amy volunteered to accompany her to the pictures once a week.

  ‘Ah, Amy … I don’t want to come between you and Bobby.’

  Hot colour rushed to her face and Rosaleen thought how lovely she looked. Why had she never remarried? Unthinkingly, she voiced the question.

  ‘Amy … why did you never get married again? I’m sure you must have had plenty of chances.’

  ‘Oh, yes … they were queuing up, so they were,’ Amy jested. ‘Look, Rosaleen, Bobby won’t mind. In fact, he’d
be only too pleased to accompany us. So how’s about it, eh?’

  ‘Thanks, Amy. It’s kind of you to think of me. To tell you the truth, I need to get out on my own, now and again.’

  ‘I know you do, love. I know you do. So come round to my house on Saturday night at six sharp and we’ll go down to the Classic.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely. I haven’t been in the Classic for years.’

  Amy smiled at her, glad to see the despair lift, if only momentarily.

  If Joe wasn’t careful, his jealousy would drive them apart. She knew just how obsessive his jealousy could be. Hadn’t he ruled her life until Bobby came on the scene?

  In his heart, Joe had been relieved to see May go to Canada. She was a bad influence on Rosaleen, expecting her to go to the pictures with her every Saturday night. Now Rosaleen would stay at home at the weekends, keep him company. So anger was in his heart as he watched her prepare for her night out with Amy and Bobby. What on earth did his mother see in that man? She was making a fool of herself and every opportunity he got, Joe told her so. Now he chastised his wife.

  ‘You know, Rosaleen, you shouldn’t encourage me mam to go out with Bobby Mackay.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Rosaleen’s voice was reasonable, she had no intentions of agreeing with Joe about Bobby. He was a wonderful man and he adored Amy.

  ‘Because she’s too old for that kind of thing.’

  ‘What kind of thing? Bobby treats her like a lady, and I think that if you would unbend a little … we could soon be hearing wedding bells.’

  ‘Good God! You don’t think she’d really consider marrying him, do you?’

  ‘Why not? They’re both old enough to know their own minds! I think they make a lovely couple. Just what have you got against Bobby? Eh?’

  Rosaleen frowned at Joe and his lips tightened as he glared back at her. ‘Nothing … so long as he keeps out of my way.’

  Rosaleen shrugged and refused to be drawn into an argument. Putting the finishing touches to her make-up, she put on her coat. ‘I’m off … see you later.’

  The film in the Classic Picture House in the centre of town was a comedy, and as they left the theatre after the show they were all relaxed and happy.

  It was a lovely, warm night and Bobby suggested that they walk home and call into Victor’s in Divis Street for some ice-cream. As she walked along, licking away at her ice-cream cone, Rosaleen remembered the night that Sean had walked her home from the Club Orchid. Thoughts of the events at the Dam returned to haunt her and sadness enveloped her. If only she had been wiser, how different her life might have been.

  When they arrived at her corner, she invited them in for a cup of tea. At once Amy demurred, but Bobby gently overruled her.

  ‘A cup of tea sounds lovely, Rosaleen.’ He turned courteously to Amy. ‘Do you not fancy a cup of tea?’

  She gazed at him, and whatever she read in his eyes caused her to change her mind.

  ‘Why not… why not indeed?’

  The expression on Joe’s face when Bobby entered the room made Rosaleen seethe with anger, and the look she threw him stopped the protest that hovered on his lips. He acknowledged Bobby with an abrupt nod.

  ‘Your mam and Bobby have come in for a cup of tea, Joe. Would you like one?’ she asked him, and even to her own ears her voice sounded false. She hated him for placing her in a position where she had to play-act. They eyed each other but Joe found that even to please her he could not make ‘that man’ welcome in his home, so rising to his feet he headed for the stairs.

  ‘No, thank you. I was just about to retire. Goodnight.’

  As the door closed on him Rosaleen turned to Bobby. ‘I’m sorry … I’ll make the tea.’

  He reached out and caught her by the arm as she passed him on her way to the kitchen.

  ‘Hey now, don’t you be upset. He’s a sick man, Rosaleen. I keep telling Amy that we’ll have to wear him down. So just keep inviting me in and let me do the rest, OK?’

  Rosaleen looked at the big, long face that still seemed sorrowful even when he was smiling. He had been so good to her since her dad’s death that it hurt her deeply that Joe should slight him; now she nodded, she would do as he asked.

  ‘I’ll make a pot of tea and we’ll enjoy it,’ she vowed, ‘even if it chokes us.’ And they all laughed at the idea.

  When they had departed, Rosaleen climbed the stairs two at a time and burst into Joe’s room without knocking. He was sitting up in bed reading a book and the look he gave her was venomous.

  ‘Don’t you ever again treat a friend of mine like that. Do you hear me?’ she hissed at him.

  ‘You’re forgetting that this is my house, and I’ll treat people any way I like in it,’ he hissed back at her.

  ‘Oh, yes? Well, the next time you let me down, in my home … remember it’s your house, but I have to live here … I’ll leave you. And that’s a promise!’

  With these words she left the room and it was a long time before she got control of her temper.

  The next day she made a point of calling in to see Amy when she knew that she would be alone.

  ‘I came to apologise, Amy. What Joe did was unforgivable.’

  ‘Bobby didn’t take offence … he’s not like that. He could find excuses for Aul’ Nick himself. He’s a wonderful person, Rosaleen.’

  ‘I know that, Amy. That’s why I can’t understand Joe’s attitude.’

  Amy eyed her and gave a long drawn-out sigh. ‘Sit down, Rosaleen. I think it’s about time I explained something to you.’

  Mystified, Rosaleen sat down on the settee beside Amy and eyed her questioningly.

  A grimace crossed Amy’s face and her voice shook.

  ‘This isn’t easy for me to talk about. I’m not proud of my actions … my only excuse is that I was very young when it happened.’

  Rosaleen sat silent, watching her gravely.

  ‘You see, Rosaleen … I’ve never been married.’

  She felt her jaw drop, and gulped to close it. Amy had never been married? That meant that Joe was …

  As if she had followed her thoughts, step by step. Amy nodded sadly.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Joe’s illegitimate.’

  Unable to think of anything to say, Rosaleen just repeated, ‘Illegitimate?’

  ‘Yes. That’s why he’s so bitter towards me. Why I let him rule my life for so long. But not any more. I told Bobby about my past and he advised me to tell you. Really I should have told you sooner, but I was embarrassed and ashamed.’

  ‘No, Amy. There’s no reason why you should have confided in me. Your past is your own business … it has nothing to do with me,’ Rosaleen assured her.

  ‘It would have helped you to understand Joe better had you known, but you see … he didn’t want you to know.’

  Rosaleen’s face was a picture of confusion and Amy explained: ‘To Joe it was a terrible stigma. And it is a stigma … I know that, but Joe took it even more to heart than others. It was my fault. I should have told him when he was young, but I kept putting it off. You see, when I was expecting him, I moved here to be near our Belle. You know, Bill Murray’s mam? It was near the end of the ’14–’18 war and everybody thought that I was a war widow, so I didn’t enlighten them. There were a lot of young pregnant war widows about, and I was only too glad to hide my shame. The man I was in love with got me this house to rent.’ Her voice became bitter. ‘Payment for favours received!’

  She sat silent for some moments and Rosaleen’s heart went out to her. She heard herself whisper, ‘What about your parents?’

  ‘They were both dead, and our Belle did not want to advertise that I was a fallen woman so she encouraged the widow idea.’ She looked Rosaleen in the eye and laughed. ‘It got to the stage where I nearly believed I was a grieving widow. I was grieving all right.’

  Once more her voice trailed off and Rosaleen gripped her arm. ‘Amy, don’t torture yourself opening old wounds … I don’t need to know!’
r />   ‘It’s all right, Rosaleen, I want you to know.’ And she continued, ‘I led Joe to believe that his father had died when he was a baby, and when he started school I was glad that I had. You see, kids are cruel. There was one young lad who was illegitimate and the other youngsters tortured him about not having a father, so I kept up the pretence. It was such a shock to Joe when he found out.’

  ‘How did he find out? Who told him?’

  Rosaleen could imagine just how shocked Joe had been. He was so strait-laced; forgiveness would not have come easy to him. Poor Amy! She was even more dismayed when Amy continued her story.

  ‘He found out when he tried to enter the ministry. You see, from when he was no age he wanted to become a priest.’ Seeing Rosaleen’s mouth gape open, she asked, ‘He never told you that he once wanted to be a priest?’ Her eyes rounded in disbelief.

  ‘No … never.’

  ‘Ah, Rosaleen … Well, I was over the moon. My son a priest? I couldn’t believe it. I never dreamed it would matter that he had been born out of wedlock, but it did.’ She paused to wipe away the tear that had trickled down her cheek and then wailed, ‘It was awful. He was accepted and all, and so happy, and then they asked for his birth certificate.’ She grimaced at Rosaleen before continuing, ‘It shows you how thick I am. Even then, I didn’t think it would make any difference. I was worried about what Joe would think, but I thought that he would be understanding. But the minute Joe saw it, he knew. He knew it would prevent him from entering the priesthood. He went berserk! Would not speak or eat. This went on for some time and I was in despair. And then, he started speaking to me, but it was as if the episode had never happened. The priesthood was never mentioned again, and when he met you and you agreed to marry him, he made me promise never to tell you. I thought that you must know. When you were married, you must have seen the birth certificate.’

  At her look askance, Rosaleen shook her head. ‘Joe attended to all that.’

  So many conflicting emotions were fighting for control of Amy’s features, Rosaleen clasped her arm tightly.

 

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