The Wasted Years

by Mary Larkin

  In the back hall he pulled on his Wellingtons and waterproof coat, and tugging his cap down low on his brow, left the house.

  From the bedroom window, Annie watched him plough through the snow and leaving the drive, turn up the Serpentine Road. He would be frozen, she fretted, catch his death of cold, but then … she was frozen, and she was in a warm room.

  As he battled against the elements, Sean tried to sort out his emotions. How come Rosaleen, whom he had loved dearly for years, now failed to raise a flicker of passion? For a moment he felt bereft at the loss of his first love; it had been a part of him for so long. When had he stopped dreaming about her? When had Annie eroded her way into his heart? He didn’t know! All he knew was that he had made a terrible mess of his life. Was he to lose Annie too?

  He was very much aware that without Annie he would feel lost. Somewhere along the way, she had become the pivot of his life, the heart of his home. What would he do if she left him? Turn to Rosaleen? He was so confused. Less than two years ago he would have jumped at the chance of starting afresh in Canada with Rosaleen. Would have, at a nod from Rosaleen, taken off. Now it looked like Annie held his happiness in her hands and he could not reach her. He didn’t deserve her; all these years while she had longed for a family, he had ignored her need. He should have paid attention to her, gone to the doctor, found out about adoption. Would Annie consider adoption? Would she give him another chance to try to make her happy? Despair engulfed him. Why should she? When she had needed him most, he had been pining for Rosaleen. God forgive him!

  When he returned to the house, he was not surprised to find blankets and pillows piled on the settee. He smiled wryly as he gathered them up, remembering how Annie had vowed that no one would ever sleep on her beautiful settee. Was this her answer? Was there no hope of a future together for them?

  He tossed and turned most of the night, and as a result slept late. Annie had already breakfasted when he entered the kitchen. She rose from her seat at once to prepare his breakfast.

  ‘I’m not hungry. Just a bit of toast… that’s all I want.’

  While he was eating, Annie poured herself a cup of tea and sat facing him. Her face was pale but calm, and he noted that there was no sign of tears. She, obviously, had had a better night than he.

  Annie sat pondering for a few moments before speaking. After much soul searching, she had decided that Sean must be free to make up his mind just what he wanted out of life. If he would be happier with Rosaleen, well… had she the right to keep him tied to her? She was aware that they would still be tied to each other as far as the Church was concerned, but she felt sure that she would not want to marry again, and it was Sean and Rosaleen’s own business whether or not they wished to live in sin.

  Now she started to speak, tentatively. Although she wanted him to be free to choose, she did not want him to feel that she wished to be rid of him.

  ‘Sean … I’ve been thinking about us.’

  He paused, toast halfway to his mouth, and eyed her from under raised brows. ‘Mm?’

  ‘Well, I’m all mixed up. I can’t offer you a divorce … I haven’t the right. And divorced or not I’d still feel married to you, but I’ll understand if you want to feel free.’ Her voice trailed off and she waited expectantly. When he remained silent, disconcerted she continued, ‘I would like to remain in this house for awhile, until I can make other arrangements. Will that be all right with you?’ Again she paused. Why didn’t he speak? ‘I’ll try to be gone before your next leave.’

  The toast reached his mouth and his voice was muffled when he at last answered her. ‘Yes … stay as long as you like.’

  He tried to keep his voice airy, unconcerned. After all, she had already made up her mind. Obviously she had ceased to love him and he had no one to blame but himself, but there was no need to let her know how much he hurt.

  With an abrupt movement, Annie rose from the table. She was in despair. He did not care. Did not even question her reasons. Was probably glad of the chance to be rid of her.

  ‘Thank you… thank you very much. I’ll make sure that I’m out before you return.’ And with these words she quickly left the room, fearing her composure would crack.

  Breakfast finished, Sean toiled out the back clearing snow, his heart and mind as heavy as the mist that obscured the top of the Cave Hill. Annie’s rejection of him cut deep. This was the third time that he had been rejected, but it didn’t get any easier. Especially when knowing that he was his own worst enemy, had brought all his troubles on himself, made it harder to bear. He would have to sell the house. It would be an empty shell without Annie’s warm presence. How could he have been so stupid? To have won Annie’s love and lost it by his indifference. He was a fool.

  It was a long time later that he climbed the stairs in search of her. He had wrestled with his desire to hide his pain from her, and the chance to try one more time to make her change her mind. What if she rejected him again? She had every reason to. Would he be able to bear it? Rejection or no, he had to try one more time.

  As usual, she was in the small room, leaning on the windowsill, gazing out over the snow-covered beauty of the fields to the lough. The amount of time she spent in this room surprised him. From their bedroom she could look out on the same view, and sit in comfort while doing so, but she preferred to stand in this small, empty room. She was unaware of him until he spoke her name.

  ‘Annie?’

  Slowly she straightened up from her bent position but did not turn to face him. He knew from the way her head tilted up that her chin was thrust out, ready for battle.

  ‘Yes?’

  A great, deep sigh left his lips. He was going to throw himself on her mercy and he had no idea, no idea at all, how she would respond.

  ‘I don’t know how to begin. Look … I know I haven’t been the world’s greatest husband, but you have had some good times with me, haven’t you?’

  The chestnut hair bobbed forward in a nod, and he continued, ‘I was wondering, Annie, would you not give me another chance? I’ve been thinking … you want a child. Well, what about adoption? Would you consider adoption? Would that please you?’

  Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes wide and questioning. ‘You’d consider adoption?’

  He nodded eagerly, ‘Yes, I would.’

  ‘Does …’ She paused, now knowing how to phrase the next question. Why couldn’t he be more explicit? ‘Does this house mean so much to you?’

  His brows gathered in a frown. ‘The house?’ Then comprehension dawned, and he bawled, ‘Have a titter of wit, Annie! Do you really think that I’d consider adoption to remain in this house?’

  It was her turn to frown. ‘Well, why?’

  ‘Look, Annie, I love this house, I admit that, but without you it’d be an empty shell. If you want to move back to the Springfield Road or even the Upper Falls, I’ll move gladly. If only you’ll give me another chance.’

  She was in a dilemma; she wanted nothing more in the world than to believe him, but Aul’ Nick was whispering in her ear. Did he want to move to be near Rosaleen? Was he holding on to her while he sought to win Rosaleen over? His betrayal of her had made her wary.

  ‘Annie.’ He moved closer and reached for her hands, clasping them against his breast. ‘Please give me a chance to prove how much I love you. How much I need you.’

  For some moments she stood motionless, her eyes tightly closed, and let his words wash over her, balm to her tortured heart.

  He loved her … HE LOVED HER! A great bubble of joy welled up and burst inside of her and his voice trailed off in amazement when she pressed close to him, eyes ablaze with happiness.

  As his lips claimed hers, her kiss was full of joy, like it used to be. He gripped her closer still, unable to believe his luck, and when at last she freed him, he sank his face in her hair.

  ‘Ah, Annie, Annie … I thought I’d lost you. I was in despair. Please don’t ever shut me out again. You’re my world … the heart of my ho
me.’

  Eyes brimming with happiness, she drew back and looked at him. ‘Ah, Sean, you’ve just made me the happiest woman in the world. Listen …’ A wave of her hand embraced the room. ‘I’ve pictured this room often as a nursery. I’ll paint the walls white and get some prints of nursery rhymes and flowers … and Minnie has a lovely cot that she is willing to lend me.’ Her voice was excited and happy. ‘It’ll be lovely in this room, I can just picture it. It’s huge … it will do a child until it’s three years old. It would cost the earth to buy. Isn’t Minnie kind?’

  Still afraid to believe his luck, he clung to her, but fear penetrated his heart. He wished now that he’d mentioned adoption before, but she must be made to realise that it took time. She was going too fast.’

  ‘Annie, please love, don’t set your hopes too high. I’ve been asking around about adoption and it can take years … and sometimes you can be turned down for no apparent reason.’

  ‘Sean, we don’t have to adopt.’ Her eyes teased him. ‘You were right. I am too young for a middle-aged spread.’

  Her hand drifted down and patted her stomach.

  He stared at her uncomprehending, and she repeated slowly, her eyes holding his, her head swaying from side to side, ‘The weight I’m putting on isn’t a middle-aged spread.’

  His brows drew together. ‘You mean …’

  She nodded, and watched his jaw drop with amazement.

  ‘You’re pregnant?’

  ‘I only found out for sure last week.’

  ‘And you never told me?’

  Her eyes held his steadily. ‘I didn’t know what you wanted out of life, Sean. You might have wanted to join Rosaleen in Canada, and I didn’t want you to feel tied. You see, I was convinced that you didn’t love me.’

  ‘But you must have known that I do.’

  ‘No … you never said.’

  Her voice was sad and he squirmed inwardly when he realised that what she said was true. How could he have said it? He had thought he still loved Rosaleen.

  ‘Ah, Annie. Annie, my love.’ The back of his hand caressed the curve of her cheek, her jaw, her throat; sending shiver after shiver of anticipation coursing through her. ‘Annie … you’ll be fed up listening to my declarations of love from now on.’

  ‘Never … never! That’s something I’ll never tire of, and don’t you ever stop.’

  His hands cupped her face. ‘I love you, Annie Devlin. I love you so very much.’

  The shadow had gone from her eyes and he felt humble as he gazed into her very soul, at the love shining there. Overcome with the wonder of it, wanting to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, he asked gruffly, ‘When’s the baby due?’

  ‘June.’

  ‘It’ll be born before I come home again,’ he lamented. ‘Will you be all right, out here on your own?’

  ‘Minnie will look after me.’ Her eyes danced with happiness. ‘She’s adopted me. Says I’m the daughter she always longed for. And remember, she has a phone. I’ll be all right, so I will.’

  ‘Annie, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about but I couldn’t mention it while you were so distant.’

  ‘Yes?’

  Her eyes clouded over. Was there a snag?

  ‘Well … do you think you could bear to have me under your feet all the time? I want to leave the navy, get a job ashore. What do you think?’

  ‘Oh! I think that’s wonderful … wonderful.’ To think that he loved her that much, to want to leave his beloved sea and stay at home with her. A warm happiness enveloped her and her look became mischievous. ‘I think I could just about bear to have you at home.’

  With a happy laugh, he bent towards her and as his lips closed on hers, she felt a flutter as the child in her womb moved noticeably, for the first time, and sent a prayer heavenward that Rosaleen would find happiness in Canada and never, ever, return to Ireland.

  Sean gently led Annie from the ‘nursery’ and into their bedroom. Now he knew why she spent so much time there. Soon they would have a child, and perhaps in a few years they would have another one. This house would need at least three children.

  He voiced his thoughts to her. ‘Annie, once this child is born, we’ll space our family … say two years apart.’ His voice trailed off as Annie’s hand covered his mouth.

  ‘There’ll be no birth control, Sean. We’ll live up to our religion. God will take care of us.’ Her words dwindled away and her eyes grew fearful. ‘Do you agree with me?’

  ‘Anything you say, Annie. For my part, I would like at least six,’ he assured her.

  She smiled happily and nodded, relaxing contentedly against him.

  ‘Ah, Sean … Sean.’

  He held her close and settled her against his body. There now … that was where she belonged. Slowly, he began to undo the buttons down the front of her dress.

  ‘Let’s have an early night, eh, Annie my love?’

  She giggled softly. ‘Sean … it’s nearly lunch time.’

  He smiled at her amusement. ‘Well then, let’s have a mid-morning nap. Eh, love?’

  Her arms crept up around his neck and her eyes danced with laughter. ‘We might miss lunch, mind.’

  ‘I think I could bear that,’ he whispered, and at the look in his eyes, her heart turned over and no more words were needed as he gently lowered her on to the bed.

  Wrapping Liam in a blanket, Rosaleen rubbed her nose gently against the sleeping child’s before laying him on the settee. She sighed as she looked out of the window. Unlike the Serpentine Road, there was no large expanse of virgin snow here. Grey slush littered the footpaths and snowladen skies seemed actually to sit on the rooftops, darkening the rooms as if it was evening instead of early morning.

  She had promised to take the children to spend Boxing Day with Amy and Bobby but she felt so depressed all she wanted to do was stay at home and weep. God forgive her! She should be counting her blessings instead of giving in to misery. And she had so many blessings: a lovely daughter, already on her way to visit her granny and Bobby. A beautiful healthy son. No money worries. Just why was she so depressed?

  It must be the aftermath of spending Christmas Day at Annie’s. The strain of being in Sean’s company now that Annie knew the truth. The knowledge that Sean was uneasy and afraid in her company had filled her with a great aching pain. To think that Sean could fear her; be afraid of her spoiling things between Annie and him. As if she would! That’s why she was unhappy.

  Then on top of all that, the fact that Andrew had let her down deepened her unhappiness. She had been so sure he cared for her, but it appeared she had been wrong. Three weeks ago a doll had arrived for Laura, and a huge soft cuddly bear for Liam, but since then, nothing! Not one letter in answer to hers. And she had written twice! She squirmed when she thought of the drift of her letters. She had not actually asked him his intentions … but she may as well have. And he had not been man enough to answer her. Tell her he had changed his mind. And tonight she had to face Pat and tell him that she had decided to emigrate to Canada.

  Her actions in the Clock Bar a week ago had given him the wrong idea and she knew he thought that his long, careful courtship was paying off. At the beginning of their friendship she had warned him that she wanted nothing more from him, but she had seen his hopes rise when she had fawned all over him in the pub and guessed that he was just biding his time. Now she had to dash his hopes, and dreaded how he would react to her news.

  As she tidied the kitchen, determined to leave everything spotless before joining Laura at Amy’s, dismay filled her when she heard the living-room door open and close. It must be Pat. She would have preferred to confront him at night. Not so early in the day, when she felt weepy. But so be it. She may as well get it over with.

  ‘Is that you, Pat? Take a seat… I won’t be a minnit.’

  As the silence stretched, she turned slowly towards the living room, a frown on her brow. There was no way Pat McDade could stay so quiet.


  The figure standing near the door was very still; large snowflakes melted on his dark hair and on the shoulders of his black Crombie overcoat, and Rosaleen felt the colour leave her face and her knees go weak at the sight of him.

  ‘You are expecting … Pat?’

  She longed to throw herself into his arms, feel the comfort of them around her, weep all over him, but the look in his eyes kept her motionless at the kitchen door. As usual when she was ill at ease, she resorted to sarcasm.

  ‘What’s it to you? Has another death brought you over?’

  His face was stern, his eyes no longer warm and caring but dark and probing, but before he could answer her there was a light knock on the door and Bobby Mackay entered the room.

  Startled and confused, he shuffled his feet in embarrassment and looked from Rosaleen to Andrew and back again.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something, but the footpaths are in an awful state, Rosaleen. That snow coming down on top of the hard slush is treacherous so I came round to carry Liam for you.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, Bobby. He’s ready to go.’

  She nodded towards the sleeping child. To reach him she would have to pass close to Andrew and her feet would not obey her and move in his direction. It was Andrew who lifted the child and placed him gently in Bobby’s arms.

  ‘Bobby, I don’t think you met Andrew when he was last here. He’s Billy Mercer’s cousin. Remember he came home for his uncle’s funeral?’

  ‘Of course … of course. No, I never did have the pleasure. Pleased to meet you.’

  The two men shook hands but Andrew never spoke, just nodded in acknowledgement of Rosaleen’s introduction, and Bobby quickly turned to leave the house. As he said to Amy later, the tension was so thick it was like waiting for the thunder to roll, heralding a storm.

  ‘I’ll go on round, Rosaleen. You take your time … there’s no hurry. We’ll expect you when we see you.’ And with another nod at Andrew, he hurried out.

  When the door closed on him, Andrew moved slowly towards Rosaleen but when he reached for her she hissed at him: ‘Don’t you touch me!’