by Pam Rhodes
“I’m never late, as you know, Vicar. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot we’d like to see before that service begins.”
Feeling like a schoolboy dismissed by his headteacher, Neil turned away and counted silently to three before he walked over to where Claire had found a seat with Harry.
“Rose always wanted to come here.”
Claire squeezed Harry’s hand as he spoke.
“She had one of St Columba’s prayers on a plaque in the kitchen. She often said how much she’d like to visit, but it always seemed too long a journey. I wish now I’d made it happen for her. She’d have enjoyed that coach journey this morning. In fact, she’d have loved this whole cruise.”
Neil nodded agreement as he sank down on the seat beside them.
“I miss her.” The old man’s eyes seemed to be focused on a long-ago memory as he spoke. “There aren’t many moments in my day when I’m not imagining what she’d be saying, if she were here.”
“And what would she be saying now?”
There was a smile on Harry’s face as he considered Neil’s question. “I think she’d be most pleased at the company I’m keeping. You now married to Claire – she’d have approved of that! And Iris too. Rose would want to know a strong woman’s keeping an eye on me, because she’d never have trusted me to look after myself. She’s wrong, of course. I muddle along at home just fine – not that Iris would ever admit it. Actually, Iris needs me to look after her just as much as I do her, but I’d never dare tell her that. We’re friends, good friends. I do appreciate her friendship, Neil, even if she does drive me to distraction at times.”
“Oh,” grinned Neil, “say no more. As a fellow sufferer with years of experience, I understand exactly how frustrating my mother can be.”
Bang on cue, Iris’s voice broke into their conversation. “No dawdling, Harry! We’ve not been round the abbey yet, and I’ve no intention of running out of time to see St Oran’s Chapel. After all, it’s the oldest building on the island, so it must be the most interesting.”
“Rose used to nag me too,” hissed Harry so that only Neil could hear. “Perhaps that’s why I feel so at home in Iris’s company.”
“You’re not flagging, are you?” challenged Iris. “We’ve only just had that coffee. Surely you’re not giving up before we’ve properly started?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my dear,” smiled Harry, offering her his arm. “St Oran’s first, I think, and then a stroll through the cloisters at the abbey in time for the Michael Chapel at one.”
It was in the cloisters that Mark and Deirdre found a quiet corner seat after a brisk walk during which they’d covered as much of the island and its buildings as they could. Their conversation hadn’t faltered at all, as if they had years’ worth of feelings and experiences to share with one another – until now, when the quietness of the place, and the atmosphere of centuries of worship seeped into the ancient walls around them, made conversation unnecessary.
After several minutes, when Mark stretched out to cover Deirdre’s hand with his, he was surprised to see her draw her hand back onto her lap.
“Mark, there’s something I need to tell you.”
The sudden bleakness of her expression shocked him, and he deliberately reached over to take her hand again. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
“You may change your mind after this.”
“I don’t believe anything could ever change my feelings for you.”
“Don’t say that until you know. This is something I’ve carried around with me for years, and never wanted to share with anyone – until you, now.”
He squeezed her hand gently. “You’re safe with me, Deirdre. I’m not going anywhere.”
There was a silence while Deirdre was plainly gathering her thoughts. When she finally began to speak, her voice was low and her eyes never lifted from their clasped hands to look at his face.
“The only reason I booked this cruise was because of tomorrow. We’re spending one day in Dublin. Just one day, that’s all I need. I don’t have to stay. I don’t even have to go, if I lose my nerve. One day, I can cope with.”
“Cope with what?”
“Dublin was my home. I grew up there. I haven’t been back for twenty-four years.”
“The year Brendan was born?”
“Six months before. I couldn’t stay, so I left. I caught the ferry from the same harbour we’ll be docking in tomorrow morning. I had no choice. There were no abortions in Ireland, so London was my only option. I had an address on a scrap of paper in my pocket. I remember wrapping my hand round it as I stood on the dockside watching the ferry come towards the terminal. I wanted to pull that paper out and throw it into the waves so the nightmare would stop. It felt as if everyone was looking at me, as if they knew what I was: a stupid, easy, immoral slut who’d brought disgrace to my family. That’s what Da said I was, and he was right. I deserved it all, guilty as charged.”
“Your family turned on you?”
“Da disowned me. The rest of the family had no choice. Oh, my mum didn’t really want me to go. I’d always been her favourite. But I’ll never forget the disappointment and shame I saw in her eyes that morning. After all she’d done for me, all that love and encouragement, her hope that I’d be the first in the family to go to university and make something of myself – after all that, I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. A man told me he loved me and I believed him. And I proved how much I loved him by giving him everything he wanted – because I wanted it too. I wanted him even more two months later when I was a girl in trouble and he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Who was he?”
“The drummer in a band that came to my da’s social club. His name was Brian. He kept catching my eye, and bought me a Coke at half time. Da never saw. He was on the committee and too busy with the raffle tickets to notice.” She hesitated, breathing deeply to pull herself together before she went on.
“Brian asked me to come backstage after their set finished, and I said I couldn’t possibly do that. He was trendy and good-looking. I was just a silly little girl who’d never got further than holding hands with the boy next door because I thought if I let him kiss me, I’d get pregnant. That was the extent of my sex education.”
Mark moved closer, stroking her hand as she spoke.
“I was all dressed up that night. I’d just started work and splashed out on a pair of knee-high boots that made me feel fashionable and sophisticated. I’d got a new skirt and a top that was lower than anything I’d ever worn before. I knew I looked good. And I wanted him. I’d never seen such a beautiful man in my whole life, and I wanted to prove I was a modern girl, in charge of my own decisions. I knew he liked the way I looked. His tongue was practically hanging out. But then I was a girl used to playing hard to get – so hard that no one ever got anywhere with me – and I wasn’t planning to change that just for a grubby backstage fumble with a man who didn’t even want to know my name. By the end of the show, with a drink or two inside me, I had enough Dutch courage to think I could flirt and tease and show him how in control I was, then walk away with my head held high, knowing he was gagging for more.”
Mark watched as tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
“But in the end, it wasn’t him who was gagging for it. It was me. Oh, he knew all the tricks. He’d probably had dozens of girls, stupid little groupies queuing up for him, just like me. When he kissed me, I couldn’t care less what it might lead to as long as he didn’t stop. I threw myself at him and he loved it, but it was me who loved it more. I couldn’t get enough of him, even when he started putting his hands inside my new top. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should stop him, but it was the most wonderful feeling I’d ever known. I thought I heard him say he loved me – but by that time, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t only him ripping my clothes off; I was doing the same to him – or at least, as many clothes as we needed to lose to do what we both wanted…”
“I remember afterwards trying to put my clothes back on, feeling so happy and warm – but he didn’t even look at me. He got dressed, picked up his bag and walked round the front to pack up his drum kit. I just watched from the side. He was laughing and joking with the rest of the band as they loaded up their van and drove off. He never spoke to me again.”
“And he never knew he’d left you pregnant?”
“No. I didn’t know myself until I’d missed a couple of periods and finally plucked up courage to talk to my sister Clodagh. She was already married.”
“How did she react? Did she help you?”
“She was furious with me. She couldn’t believe I’d been so gullible and stupid. She said I had to tell Mum and Da and take the consequences.”
“Was it Clodagh who suggested an abortion?”
“She knew that wasn’t possible for a good Catholic girl in Ireland, certainly not in those days. She said having a baby would ruin my life, and I had to do something. I was so confused I hardly took in what she was saying, but I knew abortion wasn’t an option for me there.”
“So you had to face your parents?”
“I told Mum first. I thought she might understand and just put her arms round me and make everything all right, like she always did when I had a problem.”
“And did she?”
“It was the look in her eyes that floored me. Disgust, disbelief, disappointment – it was all there. She said nothing. She didn’t need to. She just took my hand and dragged me down the stairs to the back room where Da was reading the paper before tea. ‘Tell him,’ she said. ‘Tell him what you did!’”
Deirdre shuddered at the memory, and Mark put his arm around her shoulders to draw her close.
“So I told him. I told him about Brian and the night at the club, and I watched as his face turned black with anger. He was staring at me with such coldness that I had to look away. And then he turned to Mum. ‘Get this immoral slut out of my house.’ That’s what he said. ‘She has no place here. She’s no daughter of mine.’ And then he got up from his chair and walked out of the room without a backward glance. My mum ran after him, and they were arguing upstairs for a while, but in the end she came down with a small suitcase packed with a few of my things. She stuffed a couple of banknotes into my hand and pushed me towards the door. I screamed. I remember screaming and begging her to let me talk to Da, to give me time to sort things out – but she never said another word. She just pushed me through the house, threw me out into the street and slammed the door behind me.”
“Where did you go?”
“To Clodagh’s. Her husband Terry was there, and his reaction was much the same as Da’s, so I knew I couldn’t stay there. It was Terry who said I’d have to leave Dublin straight away; that to stay would bring shame to the whole family. He went to bring his van to the front door so he could take me to the ferry port, and while he was gone, Clodagh gave me the note with the address of the abortion clinic on it. To this day, I have no idea how she knew about it.
“There was another address on the paper too, of her old school friend Catherine who had married an Englishman and lived in north London. She said she’d ring and let her know I was coming, and ask her to let me stay for a while so that things could be organized. And then the horn on Terry’s van was blaring, and she took me outside and waved goodbye.
“I knew what a difficult position I’d put her in. If Da knew Clodagh was helping me, he’d never forgive her. She’d be an outcast too. She did what she could, but I knew I was on my own. So there I was, standing on the dockside watching the ferry coming in, knowing I was leaving Ireland forever.”
“And you’ve not been back?”
“No. I’ve never got over that feeling of shame and disgrace; never been able to get that vision of Da’s face or the hurt in Mum’s eyes out of my head.”
“But surely you’ve been in touch since?”
“No, not with my parents. I do speak to Clodagh every now and then. I even saw her a couple of times when she came to London to see Catherine and her family, but my name’s not been mentioned in my parents’ house since the night I left.”
“But do they know what happened to you? Has Clodagh told them?”
“They’ve never asked, and she’s never felt able to say. She thinks that Mum’s wanted to find out about me, but nothing’s ever actually been said. And Mum and Da are getting on now. They’re in their mid-sixties. Da’s retired. He worked as a drayman for a local brewery. After all these years, they’ve probably forgotten all about me.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“You may be right. Or perhaps it’s me who can’t forget, and they don’t want to remember.”
“What happened when you got to London? Did you go to the abortion clinic?”
“No. I couldn’t. I was carrying a new person inside me, a part of me and of my parents. That baby might have started life in the worst possible way, but he deserved a chance to be all he could be. I knew I could never live with the knowledge that I’d disposed of that life for my own convenience, as if it meant nothing.”
“But you had nothing. No family, no money. How on earth could you bring up a child?”
“Well, Catherine was wonderful and so was John, her husband. They’d got a young baby of their own, so they were appalled at the thought of me ending my pregnancy. And Catherine was a nurse at the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead. She was being offered a lot of extra shifts, which would mean good money for them while John was setting up his own business as a plumber. So in the end, they asked if I’d like to stay with them for free as a nanny for Caitlin, their daughter. That way I’d have somewhere to live while I was pregnant, and then I could carry on taking care of both babies when my own came.”
“And six months later, Brendan was born.”
“I gave him my da’s name. And the moment I held Brendan in my arms, I knew that being a mother made my life complete. I didn’t need anything or anyone apart from him.”
“Did you stay with Catherine’s family for long?”
“For five years, in the end. They encouraged me to study, and I managed to qualify as an infant teacher while I was with them. That way I could always work school terms and still be there for Brendan during the holidays. I applied for several jobs – but there was one that felt right the moment I walked in the door: Burntacre School. I’d never even visited Derbyshire before the day of my interview.”
“And you’ve never married?” There was gentle concern in Mark’s voice as he asked.
“To this day, I’ve not been with another man.”
“No! I can’t believe that. Surely you’ve had offers from perfectly nice men who could have been a good partner for you as well as a father for Brendan?”
“Perhaps there was the occasional man who looked in my direction, but I never looked back. It was Brendan and me against the world. That’s how it felt. He was all I needed.”
“And now? Do you still feel that way?”
She looked directly at him then, her eyes filled with emotion. “Now there’s you. I’ve watched you for so long, and wondered if I could ever let my defences down enough to trust any man again. I didn’t even know if you’d be interested in me, but I hoped – and I thought about you more than you could ever know. And Brendan’s left home now and has his own life…”
“… so it’s time for you to start yours?”
“I’d like to – with your help.”
“Darling Deirdre, I told you before that I was falling in love with you. Well, I do love you, and nothing you’ve told me today has done anything except make me love you more. You’re a brave and capable woman and a devoted mum. I know you’d make a wonderful wife too – my wife, I hope, if you’ll have me.”
“But this is all happening so fast. How can you be sure?”
“We’ve known each other for years,
and it’s obvious that for most of that time we’ve been longing for each other without ever plucking up the courage to say how we really feel. But that’s behind us now. We’re together and I’ve got no doubts about my feelings. Have you?”
She shook her head with a small smile. He kissed her then and she melted into his arms, returning his passion with the longing of a lifetime. Suddenly she drew back, her eyes gleaming.
“You’ve kissed me. I won’t get pregnant, will I?”
“Perhaps,” he grinned, “but not today. And certainly not from a kiss in such hallowed surroundings!”
She leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching.
“One day, though,” he continued, “one day very soon, I’d like to stand in our church in Burntacre and make you my wife. I want to ask for God’s blessing, to bring you comfort and a sense of forgiveness after all the pain and guilt that’s been your burden for so long. I want to fill your life with my love until death do us part.”
“Amen to that,” she whispered. “I do. I will. I’d love to…”
Another kiss followed, before she spoke again. “First, though, I have to get through tomorrow.”
“We’ll do it together, if you’d like me to come.”
“I’d like you to be nearby, but I think I have to knock on my da’s door on my own. Just me – the girl he threw out, returning as a woman with a successful career in spite of him, and an album full of photographs of the wonderful grandson he’s never known.”
“Do you plan just to turn up unannounced?”
“Clodagh’s going to meet me on the dockside.”
“Then I’ll look forward to meeting her. And whatever happens, you’ll never be alone again. We’re a family now. Let’s hope that family can include your mum and dad after tomorrow.”
“I pray for that.”
“Me too.”
And she laid her head on his shoulder as he drew her close again.
“Are you coming to the chapel? It’s nearly one o’clock.” Val Fellowes was calling out to the group of formidable ladies who were on the cruise to celebrate the anniversary of their local Catholic mothers organization.
