Danny Boy. Anne Bennett

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СКАЧАТЬ so, Mr Walsh,’ Rosie replied with a smile.

      ‘Shall we go in?’

      Rosie, remembering her mother’s words, couldn’t stop the slight shiver that ran through her. Danny guessed immediately what she was nervous of. ‘Don’t be scared,’ he told her. ‘Not of me. I’ll not hurt you. Trust me.’

      And she did trust him, of course she did, this was Danny, her Danny, who she’d lay down her life for. ‘I do trust you, Danny,’ she said. ‘It was the night air causing me to feel chilly, that’s all. Let’s go in.’

      Danny knew it was no night air but he kissed Rosie on the cheek, took her arm and led her indoors, where he found everyone had prudently taken themselves to bed.

      Rosie knew that they would be living with Danny’s family for a while, maybe for years, until a house of their own could be built near to the farmhouse. Connie guessed Rosie might find this strange and could well understand it. She had put her arm around Rosie’s shoulder one evening a few days before the wedding and said, ‘I don’t want you to feel that this is someone else’s house you are living in when you come here. From now on, this will be your home.’

      ‘Thank you, you’re all so kind.’

      ‘We should be thanking you,’ Connie had said, ‘for making our son such a happy man. In you I really feel I have gained a daughter. We must decide what you are to call me, for I know it has been awkward at times.’

      Rosie had blushed. She had not known what to call Connie. Mrs Walsh sounded too formal and Connie too familiar, but she hadn’t been aware that the woman had known of her dilemma. Connie had gone on, ‘It was the same with me and my mother-in-law at the start, yet in a way it was easier for me: my own mother was dead and so I just called her Mammy.’

      Rosie had thought of the love she’d experienced in this house in just the few months she’d been coming there, more by far than she’d ever had in her own home. She couldn’t ever remember her mother putting her arm around her the way Connie did with ease. Even Matt would catch hold of her hand or pat her on the shoulder as he passed and she realised these good, kind people were better parents to her than her own would ever be. She had turned to Connie and had said, ‘I would love to call you Mammy.’

      ‘You would?’ Connie had asked. ‘You don’t think your own mammy will mind it?’

      ‘I don’t think she will give a tinker’s cuss for anything I do,’ Rosie had replied bitterly. ‘It used to upset me, but now I have Danny, a new home and a new life and to an extent a new family. To call you Mammy will just be part of it.’

      Danny was pleased his mother and Rosie got on so well together for he knew if there was any sort of friction between them, living in such close proximity would be untenable and there was nowhere else he and Rosie could live for the present, although he was doing his best to give them a private bedroom at least. As in most farmhouses, the main bedrooms led straight off the kitchen-cum-living room. The first one was the room that Elizabeth and Sarah shared and you went through that to reach the one Danny had previously shared with Phelan, just as it had been in her own home while Connie and Matt had the one room in the loft, up the stairs to the back of the kitchen.

      Underneath the stairs was another room that had been used for storage and that was the room Danny had chosen. He and his father had worked hard before the wedding, moving all the junk to the barn and making sure the place was watertight and damp free.

      Now Rosie stood at the threshold of the door and looked around in delight as Danny lit the lamp.

      Connie and Matt had bought them a new iron-framed bedstead and mattress, and Rosie looked at it made up with the sheets and blankets she’d brought with her, the embroidered pillowcases visible where the sheets were turned down, and one of her nightdresses draped over the coverlet.

      She saw Connie had been busy. There were pictures on the walls and bright rag rugs on the stone-flagged floor, and the Sacred Heart of Jesus above their bed. Rosie and Danny had bought a new bedroom suite from a catalogue, but Rosie hadn’t seen it until now because it had been delivered to the Walshes’ farmhouse only a few days before the wedding. Now, Rosie saw someone had hung her clothes in the dark wood wardrobe and her personal things were laid out on the matching dressing table.

      ‘Oh Danny, it’s beautiful!’ she cried.

      ‘So are you and I can’t wait much longer,’ Danny said huskily, wrapping his arms around his young wife. ‘Oh God, Rosie, how I’ve longed for this moment. I love you and want you so much.’

      The love in his voice melted Rosie’s apprehension and she allowed Danny to strip the wedding dress from her and let it fall in silken folds at her feet, her petticoats, corset and bloomers following as he laid her on the bed and removed her boots and stockings. She lay beneath the sheets, naked as she hadn’t been since she’d been a wee child, for she’d always been taught to dress and undress beneath her nightdress.

      Suddenly, Danny, in his haste to divest himself of his clothes, kicked the chamber pot beneath the bed and the ringing sound reverberated throughout the house. Rosie put her hand across her mouth to still the giggles.

      ‘Shut up,’ Danny hissed, laughing himself. ‘This is no laughing matter, madam. Please conduct yourself with proper decorum.’

      ‘Aye, Mr Walsh, I will,’ Rosie said, gazing at her husband as she spoke and realising she was seeing a naked man for the very first time in her life. Danny snuffed out the light and slid in beside her.

      After her mother’s words she’d imagined herself lying rigid in the bed in her pristine nightdress while Danny did unmentionable things to her that she had to submit to now that she was his wife. She imagined it hurting her so much she’d cry out and everyone would hear.

      But it wasn’t a bit like that. Danny held her close and caressed her gently, while his tongue, darting in and out of her mouth, sent sharp shafts of desire flowing through her whole body as she let her hands explore his body too. When she came upon his hardened penis, she gave a gasp. Danny was nuzzling at her breasts and she cried, ‘Oh, Danny, please, please hurry.’

      Danny smiled. The passion in both of them could be denied no longer and he carefully entered his young wife. She did feel pain, but it was overridden by waves of exquisite joy which engulfed her over and over again, until she felt she could die with happiness. She couldn’t help the cry that burst from her lips, and as Danny, spent at last, lay on top of her, she felt tears of joy seep from under her lashes and trickle down her cheeks.

      She felt loved, desired, wanted, as she’d never truly felt in her life before. But none of her earlier life mattered – now she had Danny and he more than made up for her parents’ indifference.

      When Danny discovered Rosie was crying he was horrified. ‘Don’t cry. Oh God, Rosie, don’t,’ he implored. ‘Did I hurt you? Oh God, I’m sorry.’

      Rosie’s smile was watery but her voice firm as she said, ‘Are you not the finest eejit, Danny? Don’t you know women cry from happiness as well as sorrow? Don’t ever apologise for what we did tonight, for I wanted it as much as you and it was wonderful so it was.’

      Danny knew he’d found a treasure, a woman who’d love him all his life and who enjoyed their lovemaking. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. ‘I love you, Mrs Walsh,’ he said.

      ‘And I you, Mr Walsh,’ Rosie replied happily. СКАЧАТЬ