Secrets of Our Hearts. Sheelagh Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ as she greeted his arrival at the bar more warmly, more personally than usual. There was a definite connection between them – he was sure of it from her eyes. The exchange with Harriet had fired him up. Upon asking for his pint in the normal fashion, he found the nerve to blurt an additional request. ‘Could you get tomorrow night off and come out with me?’

      There was fleeting disconcertment. Then Boadicea raised her fair eyebrows and, with a rather mocking chuckle, said, ‘It’s good to tell you’re not accustomed to pubs.’

      Taken aback by this unexpected response, he looked blank.

      ‘Saturday’s our busiest night!’ she declared.

      His embarrassed laughter joined hers. ‘Oh aye, sorry, I was forgetting what day it is!’ She had done that to him – made it so he could think of nothing else. Sometimes he was unsure what planet he was on, never mind what day of the week it was. Undeterred, he blurted quickly, ‘Sunday then?’

      ‘I’m afraid I’ll be working that too. Sorry.’ Wearing an apologetic smile, she finished pulling his pint and handed it over.

      Not wanting to sound desperate in asking which night she was free, he nodded quickly, handed over payment and murmured, ‘Maybe another time then,’ and he hid his discomfiture in his glass.

      Boadicea dealt him another brief smile, though not another word, before moving on to serve someone else. Receiving no encouragement, Niall retired to his usual corner to nurse his wounded pride.

      Deeply disappointed and utterly confused by her attitude – one minute seeming to welcome his attentions, the next giving him the brush-off – he chose not to go to the pub on Saturday, almost managing to remove his mind from her by helping his children prepare for their coming roles in the St Patrick’s Day procession.

      At least, though, he did manage to grab sight of her on Sunday, if only at Mass. She looked so lovely, so angelic with her rosy cheeks, and her golden hair curling from under a new green hat, he couldn’t understand why no other man seemed as interested as he. But to feast his eyes on her would give him away, though the glimpse he allowed himself was totally insufficient, and the thought of another evening without her unbearable.

      His eye on the clock for opening time, directly after tea he decided to risk his mother-in-law’s wrath and visit Boadicea at her place of work.

      There were more stunned faces, naturally, over this detour from the normal Sabbath routine.

      ‘Not going to Benediction? But you always love to go!’

      It was indeed Niall’s favourite service, but, ‘Not tonight. I don’t feel like it.’ However, it was obvious he was intent on some venture for he had risen.

      ‘Where you off then, Dad?’ asked Juggy.

      ‘Mm?’ Niall examined himself in the mirror. Seeing that the sprig of shamrock in his lapel was rather wilted, he went to the scullery and delved into the bucket for a fresh one and was pinning it on as his daughter asked again: ‘Where you off?’

      He looked down at her now. ‘Oh … nowhere.’

      ‘The same place he goes the rest of the week,’ muttered Nora, casting a tight-lipped expression at Harriet and Dolly, who looked similarly disapproving.

      Niall ignored this, but catching the six-year-old’s fearful expression, he addressed her more gently. ‘Don’t worry, Jug, I’ll be here when you get home from Mass.’

      Hardly noting that his daughter was not fully reassured, he turned to Nora. ‘Would you mind taking the kids?’

      ‘I suppose I’ll have to,’ retorted his mother-in-law somewhat sniffily at being taken for granted.

      ‘Thanks.’ Warning his children to be good, Niall went directly along the passage to the front door, as he did so overhearing a stern addendum from Nora.

      ‘A good job there are more dutiful souls around to maintain the children’s religion whilst others fall prey to the evils of drink!’

      But he chose not to heed the disparaging comment, and soon his entire thoughts were once again fixed on Boadicea, determined that she would be swayed.

      Needing no other alibi than it was Sunday, his weekday casual garb was displaced by a navy-blue double-breasted suit and tie, a silver watch chain gleamed upon his waistcoat, his shoes were buffed to a high gloss, and his dark hair also groomed. How could she turn him down? There was a fresh confidence to his step, a sparkle to his eye, as he swung open the door of the saloon, marred only by the fact that she was not behind the bar when he arrived, and so did not immediately witness this new Mr Doran. For the moment that did not concern him, for she might be serving in the snug. It was busier tonight, being St Patrick’s Day, the bar all decorated in green.

      Provided with his glass of Guinness by the landlord, Niall remained at the counter in the expectation of chatting to Boadicea when she did finally come around this side, occasionally running a finger around the inside of his starched collar, and admiring his reflection in the mirrored glass behind the bar, what little there was of it between the bottles of liquor and the row of green pennants. The pint had been three-quarters consumed by the time he accepted that she was not coming.

      Forcing himself to sound casual, swilling the dregs of his pint round his glass as a prelude to buying another, he remarked, ‘Barmaid’s late tonight.’

      ‘She doesn’t work on a Sunday,’ Mr Langan informed him.

      Niall’s heart dropped. And then he immediately stiffened, the surge of disappointment being quickly overwhelmed by anger that she had lied to him – lied simply to get rid of his unwanted advances. Tossing the last of his drink down his throat, he wished the man a curt good night and left.

       5

      ‘Not going out?’ enquired Nora on Monday evening, when her son-in-law remained in his work clothes for longer than was usual – long after the children were in bed – and sat in preoccupied fashion staring into the fire.

      Still deep in thought and brooding over being made a fool of, Niall took a moment to glance up at her and the other women who closely examined him, then shook the frown from his brow. ‘No, I think I’ll have an early night …’

      Harriet and Dolly exchanged looks of relief that he was not resorting to alcohol again; though both were to feel concerned that his recent good mood should have relapsed so quickly, as he added in lacklustre voice, ‘I just can’t bring meself to go to bed.’

      Nora empathised with his reluctance. ‘Too much room in it, I know. ’Sfunny, when my Dom was alive I was forever bashing and prodding him, trying to grab meself more space, but afterwards …’ Her voice trailed off in a wistful sigh.

      His mind somewhere else, Niall picked at the hard skin on his workman’s fingers. ‘Seems a bit daft, me having that double bed all to meself, and the rest of you squashed in together. Why don’t we have a shuffle round, and I share with the boys?’ His suggestion came out of the blue.

      Though it choked Nora to say it, she broached a possibility; for if one brother could do it, then so could the other. ‘Well, I didn’t like to suggest it meself. I thought maybe you might decide you want СКАЧАТЬ