The Wasted Years

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by Mary Larkin


  Side by side, Sean and she had received Holy Communion and she knew him well enough to know that if he was doing wrong, he would not commit the sacrilege of receiving the Holy Host, so there was peace in her heart as they climbed the Serpentine, the snow flakes settling on and around them.

  Once home, they discarded their wet outer garments and retired to the sitting room. Arms entwined, they stood at the big bay window and watched the snow fall, slowly at first, great, large flakes drifting gently down to lie and amass on frost-covered hedges and fields. Then thickening and swirling, until a blizzard beat against the window panes, obscuring their vision completely.

  With a happy laugh, Sean squeezed her close and confided, ‘It looks as if God has answered my prayers. Now that sledge I bought for Laura won’t go to waste.’

  Annie smiled happily up at him. Perhaps her prayers would also be answered.

  Christmas Day dawned crisp and clear, with about eight inches of snow covering the land as far as the eye could see, and the lough a heaving silver necklace. Behind the house, the Cave Hill rose like a giant iced cake. Sean went out to clear the steps and driveway for their visitors, and Annie dusted and tidied the sitting room. This was the only room that was completely redecorated with new furniture and she was proud of it. Disliking the utility furniture made during the war, they had decided to wait and save until such time as changes were made before tackling the kitchen and bedrooms, making do with wardrobes and chests of drawers bought second-hand and painted white by Sean, and she had to admit that he had done a good job; their bedroom was quite presentable. Now, plumping up the cushions, she surveyed the sitting room with pride. They had decided not to cover the polished floor boards completely, and these glowed around a great square Persian carpet, brought home a long time ago by Sean, who had been unable to resist its beauty. Cream and blue, it lay in the centre of the floor and was soft and thick beneath her feet. After much discussion, and through one of Minnie’s many contacts, they had chosen a dark blue velvet-covered suite. The settee they placed against the wall behind the door, facing the hearth, and the beauty of the mantelpiece was complimented by the two armchairs placed on either side of it. Annie had brightened the suite with pale cream satin cushions, and near the window the Christmas tree rose to the ceiling. Below the window a long, dark oak table reflected the lights of the tree, and under it, gaily wrapped parcels were piled. The fire, built high and burning brightly, threw a warm, cosy glow over everything. Pleased at the result of their labours, Annie uttered a satisfied sigh and retired to the kitchen to prepare the dinner.

  Sean, once his task in the snow was finished, covered the old table (now in the living room) with a linen cloth and arranged the chairs, four of which they had borrowed from Minnie who had gone to spend Christmas with her youngest son. Then he set out their best cutlery, before joining Annie in the kitchen.

  They worked side by side in harmony, Annie surprised at how calm she felt. She had dreaded this day, worried herself sick over it, but now that it had arrived, she was quite calm. It was probably because she now knew for sure that she was pregnant. Whatever happened today … whatever she lost – she would have a child. Sean had said it was all she wanted out of life; he was wrong. Without him, she would be only half alive, but at least now she would not be alone.

  Liam was sleeping in Rosaleen’s arms when they arrived in George’s car, and after Sean had admired him and exclaimed at how he had grown, Annie led the way upstairs, and Rosaleen laid the child on the bed. The sisters eyed each other, and then Rosaleen held out her hand.

  ‘Please say you forgive me … please, Annie.’

  Slowly, she reached for Rosaleen’s hand and clasped it, but her heart wasn’t in it. Rosaleen had caused her too much heartache to forgive and forget, and what if Sean recognised Liam? She and Rosaleen were of the same flesh, the same blood ran in their veins, and how she wished things could have been different, but the damage was done; they could never be close again. Rosaleen had hurt her too much. Not only had she committed adultery with Sean and bore him a son, she had also done Annie out of the joy of sharing the knowledge of her pregnancy with Sean. Together, they should be able to confide in her mother and sister that at last they were about to become parents. Instead, she had to hide the fact and pray Sean would not realise that Liam was his son. If it was up to her, she would never see Rosaleen again … would avoid having to watch Sean and her together.

  ‘Annie, I want you to know that I’ve decided to sell the business. I made up my mind during the week and discussed it with Owen Black and he’s going to buy me out. I’m putting the house up for sale and Bobby is going to look after that for me. So I’ll be emigrating to Canada as soon as possible. May’s been urging me to come out. Billy Mercer’s uncle is willing to claim me and the kids.’

  Annie’s heart lurched in her breast; Rosaleen going to Canada could solve a lot of problems. Still, in spite of her relief, she found herself lamenting. ‘Ah, Rosaleen, how I wish things could be different.’ And suddenly she did. But it was too late for regrets.

  Rosaleen gave a wry smile. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well,’ she teased. ‘If I don’t go … you might end up with Pat McDade for a brother-in-law, and I don’t think you’d relish that.’

  Annie knew she was jesting to relieve the tension, and smiled through her tears.

  ‘Oh, well then, you’d better go. You’re right! I could never bear that.’

  The meal was a happy, leisurely occasion, everyone eating too much, and Annie’s cheeks were warm with the praise lavished on her for her cooking. She knew that she deserved it. Everything had been cooked to perfection. The turkey succulent, the vegetables just right, not too soft yet not undercooked, the roast potatoes crisp, and the creamed potatoes fluffy. And her gravy, usually a bit lumpy, had been creamy and smooth. The plum pudding, which she had baked months ago to allow it time to mature, was rich and moist, and covered in brandy cream had finished the meal off to a ‘T’. Yes, it had been worth the sacrifice of doing without while Sean was at sea and saving her meat and bread rations for the Christmas spread.

  They retired to the sitting room to drink their coffee, and afterwards, Thelma, unable to keep her eyes open, asked permission to retire upstairs to join Liam in a nap. Then, as if on cue, he signalled by a loud wail that he was awake.

  Sean rose to his feet at once. ‘I’ll fetch him. I’ve yet to see him awake.’

  They could hear him talking to the child as he descended the stairs, and both Annie and Rosaleen eyed him fearfully when he entered the room, but Sean was unconcerned as he knelt on the carpet near the tree and started to open the presents they had bought for Liam. With a relieved glance at each other, they relaxed. George joined him on the floor, and as they laughingly vied with each other for Liam’s attention, Rosaleen caught Annie’s eye and smiled encouragingly at her.

  ‘Uncle Sean … Uncle Sean … you promised me that after dinner we’d go sledging, so ye did. Mam, you take Liam. Please!’

  ‘Now, Laura, don’t be impatient. Wait until Liam sees his toys,’ Rosaleen admonished her daughter, and when at last Liam clutched his woolly lamb and small car to his breast, she held out her arms for him.

  As Sean was about to lift the child and carry him to her, she said, ‘No, let him be. Let him walk.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘No, he’s toddling about.’

  Carefully, Sean set Liam on his little chubby legs and they all laughed when he promptly sat down.

  Once more Sean stood him upright and this time Rosaleen encouraged him. ‘Come on, love. Come to Mammy.’

  He swayed for some moments and Sean hovered anxiously over him, then Liam tottered across in a rush into Rosaleen’s arms.

  ‘Ah, imagine! Ten months old and he’s walking. Oh, he’s a wonderful child, Rosaleen,’ Sean praised him, and added, ‘He’s the picture of your father, so he is.’ Then seeing the hurt look on Laura’s face at all the attention that Liam was receiving, he cried, ‘But no
w I must take your wonderful daughter out and let her push me on the sledge.’

  ‘No, Uncle Sean!’ All smiles now, Laura giggled at the idea. ‘You and Uncle George are going to push me!’ she explained, and rushed to the hall to get her coat and mittens.

  ‘Put on your hat, Laura,’ Rosaleen warned, ‘or you’ll get an earache.’

  Sean assured her as he followed Laura out into the hall, ‘Don’t worry, Rosaleen. I’ll take care of her.’

  And sadness settled on her at his words. If only he could take care of them all, but alas it could never be.

  Once they were gone and Rosaleen and Annie were alone in the sitting room, with a raised eyebrow, Rosaleen said softly, ‘Didn’t I tell you he wouldn’t notice?’

  Annie nodded and sighed. ‘I wish you weren’t going to Canada,’ she whispered. Then, in case Rosaleen was tempted to change her mind, hastily added, ‘But it’s all for the best, so it is.’

  And Rosaleen nodded sadly, in agreement with her. Children changed, as they grew up, and perhaps one day Liam would look more like Sean than he did at present. Her decision to emigrate had also been influenced by the fact that Laura was beginning to act like Sean. She didn’t resemble him in the slightest, no … but a turn of the head, a raised eyebrow, brought him to mind. So, yes, it was all for the best that she should go to Canada. If only Andrew had kept his promise to send for her everything would have been fine. Now she would have to do everything herself.

  ‘May will be glad to see you,’ Annie consoled her and asked, ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s fine … being married in the Church has made a big difference to her. The new baby is a girl. They’re calling her Rosaleen.’

  ‘Ah, that’s lovely. I’m sure you’re pleased.’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am.’

  ‘I’ll miss you, Rosaleen.’

  ‘Not once your baby’s born.’

  Annie gasped in dismay at these words. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘Sean doesn’t know yet. And, mind, I want to tell him myself,’ Annie warned.

  ‘I was about to say it’s obvious to me … there’s a bloom about you. No one else seems to have noticed, and I certainly won’t tell Sean.’

  ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘Not for a while. These things take time, but the fact that someone is claiming me should hurry things up a bit.’ Not wanting to start talking about Andrew, whom Annie had never met, Rosaleen changed the subject. ‘When’s the baby due?’

  ‘June.’

  ‘I think I’ll be away before then.’

  Sadness settled on them, and to try to dispel it, Annie asked, ‘Why didn’t George ask Maureen Murphy to come down with him?’

  ‘He’s not ready for a relationship yet, and somehow or other I don’t think it’ll be Maureen he’ll pick. I think he fancies Mary Mitchel. I think that’s why he’s being instructed in the faith.’

  At these words Annie gasped, ‘Mary Mitchel? Her that lives in the big house up on the front of the Springfield Road? The builder’s daughter?’ Her eyes flashed derision. ‘She’d never look twice at him. Why, she can pick and choose! No, I know her. She’s got big ideas … he’ll never get his boots under her bed.’

  ‘I think you’re wrong, but time will tell.’ Rosaleen smiled at Annie’s amazement and confided, ‘He’s been out with her a couple of times.’

  ‘Well, I never! Good luck to him. She’s not short a bob or two.’

  ‘Ah now, Annie, you know that doesn’t count where George is concerned,’ Rosaleen chastised her.

  ‘No … no, of course you’re right. Still, it’ll be a feather in his cap if he marries her.’ She nodded her head and repeated, ‘Aye, a big feather!’

  There was relief in Annie’s heart as she watched them all bundle into George’s car that night, to travel home. The day had been enjoyable and Sean had treated Rosaleen as he would a sister. What more could she ask for? Still, she was glad to see them go.

  The relief that Sean felt as he waved them off was heartfelt. It had been a strain, being careful how he looked at Rosaleen. Not that he wanted to ogle her. No, he was relieved to find that those days were gone. But he was worried in case she … He brought his thoughts to a halt. Did he really think that Rosaleen might ogle him? She was the one who had turned him down. But remembering her joyous look in the Clock Bar, he had been a bit worried, and was glad to see them go, glad to be alone with his lovely wife, in his beautiful house.

  It was after tea on Boxing Day when Sean was washing his hands at the sink that Annie blurted out the news about Rosaleen going to Canada. She had been bracing herself all day to tell him, wondering how he would react. Now she saw his body go still as he paused in his task, and she berated herself.

  Coward! Weak, stupid coward.

  Why hadn’t she told him face to face? Because she was afraid of what she might see in his eyes?

  Annoyed at herself, she asked, ‘Well, what do you think of that?’

  Sean let the relief that this news created seep through him and when she spoke again, he commenced washing his hands.

  His voice when he answered her was mild. ‘I think that’s a good idea. A very good idea. May and Billy are out there. They’ll take care of her. And with her looks, she’ll soon meet another man. What do you think?’ he queried, as he lifted the towel and turned to face her.

  Annie’s eyes searched his face; it was calm, he was relaxed. There was no sign that he cared where Rosaleen went. But… would he have been the same if she had told him face to face? If she had taken him unawares? Well, fool that she was, she had missed her chance. Now she would never know.

  To her surprise, unable to let the matter drop, she heard herself reply, ‘It’s not what I think that counts. It’s what you think.’

  He let his hands drop slowly to his sides, the towel trailing the floor unheeded, and eyed her through narrowed lids.

  ‘Now just what’s what supposed to mean?’

  Was he going to get a chance to clear the air? Plead his case? His innocent demeanour made Annie throw caution to the winds. Rising to her feet, she bawled across the table at him: ‘Stop looking so bloody innocent! I know about you and Rosaleen … do you hear me? I know that you and Rosaleen had an affair.’

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Annie in a temper he could handle. It was the cold, silent treatment he could not penetrate.

  ‘And just who says that Rosaleen and I had an affair?’ he asked, his voice still mild.

  This infuriated Annie more. ‘I got it straight from the horse’s mouth, so I did. So there!’

  Annie was warning herself to be careful, she must get a grip of her temper; she must not mention Liam. Not if she wanted to keep Sean. But did she want to hang on to him? Hang on to someone who had never even pretended to love her. Who, not once in their years together, had said he loved her. It had cut her to the very core when, mulling over the past, she had realised this. Oh, he made love to her as if he cherished her (was it better with Roslaeen?), and he called her ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’, but these were endearments that he lavished on everyone. Not once had he said, ‘I love you, Annie.’ And she, fool that she was, had thought that because he had married her, he loved her. Whereas he had probably just wanted someone to call his own when he was away fighting during the war.

  ‘Rosaleen told you?’ Sean felt shock register in his brain. Had she confessed? No. In her note she had said that they had been together once. He must be careful. Not say something that might betray how he had once loved Rosaleen.

  This thought startled him. Once loved? Leave that for now, he chastised himself. Pay attention to what Annie’s saying.

  ‘Yes, Rosaleen told me.’

  ‘If she told you that we had an affair, she lied, and I can’t see why she should.’

  ‘Well, she did tell me … she admitted that you and she …’ Her voice broke and clamping her lips tightly together, she blinked furiously to co
ntain the tears and headed for the door. He was there before her, barring her escape.

  Gripping her tightly by the arm, he said in a controlled voice, ‘Now listen here … don’t think that you can throw accusations like that at me and run away, and then tomorrow act as if nothing’s different. You’ve been doing that a lot lately … starting to say things then ignoring me for a while, and I won’t have it, Annie. Do you hear me? I won’t have it. So … just what did Rosaleen say?’

  Annie’s head reared back and she fixed a hard gaze on him. ‘You tell me! You were there!’

  ‘It was only once.’

  He made himself hold her eye, feeling ashamed. He became aware that he would prefer to tell her the truth, right from the beginning. Clear the air, once and for all. But Rosaleen had set the stage for this conversation and he could only play it by ear.

  ‘When?’

  Dismayed by her persistence, he released his grip on her and his eyes held contempt.

  ‘After Joe died … do you want graphic details?’

  In spite of herself, the tears that filled her eyes spilled over, but as they streamed down her cheeks, her head rose proudly in the air. ‘No, Sean, that won’t be necessary. I’ve pictured it often,’ she replied proudly, and there was dignity in her walk as she left the room and climbed the stairs. After all, as she reminded herself, she had done no wrong.

  Pain closed like a fist around Sean’s heart. Pain for the hurt Annie was now feeling, hurt he had inflicted on her. He started to follow her, but changed his mind. What good would it do? He had thought that if it was once out in the open, he could explain, put things right, but he found that he could not tell more lies.

 

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