me! On second thoughts, don’t bother with that!’ And thus saying he turned his back on the glass she had presented, went directly from the bar, and was to prowl in the darkness for half an hour in the hope of composing himself by the time he got home.
He might have succeeded in pulling the wool over Nora’s eyes. He might even have convinced himself that all was well, as he went on to perform his usual tasks during the ten days that followed. But all was not well, for despite every effort he failed to overcome his obsession with Boadicea. His face might often bear a smile but his heart was a vacuum. And eventually, that inconsolable longing was to drive him back.
That others might suffer because of this decision he was hardly to notice. Coming home that evening, his sole intention to fill his belly before going straight out again to The Angel, he found that the rain that drenched his clothing had also driven his children indoors. Juggy and her friend had set up a ‘house’ in the passage, laying out blankets and pillows for their dolls, talking to them as if they were naughty children. On seeing her adored father, the little girl beamed, and looked set to jump up.
‘Do you want me to come in now, Dad?’ she asked him.
But, intent on one pursuit, Niall was to stride over the obstruction she had created. ‘No, you’re all right to play for a while, love,’ he told her, briefly ruffling her hair before moving straight to the living room, and leaving a crestfallen face in his wake.
Her siblings were to fare no better, their pleasure at seeing him rewarded with a smile of lesser value, the younger ones’ request for a bedtime story receiving short shrift.
‘Oh, I’m a bit tired tonight, lads,’ was all their father murmured abstractedly, as he gulped down his tea. ‘Maybe somebody else’ll oblige.’
‘I’ll read you one,’ a kind-hearted Dominic told his little brothers. But it did not escape his notice that Father seemed not too tired to go out again.
The moment Niall walked into that pub his spirits miraculously soared. However, they were soon to plummet, for the object of his dreams appeared not to have missed him at all. She was chatting to some other man when he went up to the counter, and seemed reluctant to tear herself away, until the landlord prompted from the other end of the bar, ‘Eh, missus, are you going to serve Rockefeller?’
Smirking at Mr Langan’s pun, Boadicea came up to enquire of Niall, ‘The usual, is it?’
No apology, no how are you, even. Cut to the quick by her indifference, he nodded and placed the correct money on the bar. She served him as politely as she would anyone else, then wandered back to her previous conversation partner. Niall carried his pint to a table, pulled out a stool and sat with his back to her, inwardly sobbing with anger and frustration. Before he knew it his glass was empty. Against habit, he took it back to the bar for a refill.
It was the landlord who served him this time, affecting great astonishment. ‘Another? ’Struth! Don’t tell the taxman I’ve doubled me profits.’
Niall gave a sour smile, but accepted the teasing in good part, and, instead of returning to his table he remained at the bar to share a few desultory words with Mr Langan, cheered up slightly by the latter’s humorous ancedotes. Soon, though, the landlord was called away, and with no one to entertain him, Niall took a self-conscious sip of his beer, put down the glass and stared into its depths, his heart aching.
‘I feel a bit responsible.’
He knew it was her but did not glance up. ‘For what?’ he asked dully.
‘Driving you to drink.’
He could have said don’t flatter yourself, in fact he did consider it, but he was not so openly rude, and he liked her too much. Oh God, how he liked her, and how it hurt that she didn’t care for him. And so he said nothing.
‘Do you always sulk when women turn you down?’
He did present his face then.
Taken aback by the intense sadness upon it, she flinched and appeared repentant. Still he did not reply. This was not a man for games. A glint of compassion in her eyes, Boadicea weighed her words carefully. ‘It isn’t that I don’t want to go out with you personally, just that I’ve made it a rule never to go out with customers. If I do it for one I’d have to do it for another.’
Niall continued to stare at her unhappily, feeling no better at learning that she regarded him as just another customer. ‘So why didn’t you just tell me that there and then? I’d rather be told the truth than all that palaver …’
This stung her to irony. ‘Like the palaver you fed me?’
Niall forced himself to remain calm. ‘If you’re on about me being married—’
‘Don’t kid me you’re not.’ She showed disbelief.
‘I used to be, but my wife died.’
‘Aw, God, I’m so sorry!’ Boadicea’s face was momentarily distorted, and she covered her mouth, imagining how difficult it must have been for him. ‘And me accusing you of such indecency! She must have been young … how long is it since ye lost her?’
He was ashamed to say six months, didn’t want to see those sympathetic eyes turn hard and to hear her say you don’t waste your time, do you? Hence his reply was ambiguous and his gaze downcast. ‘Oh … a fair while now.’
‘Still, it’s awful! I hope you’ll accept my apology.’ She formed a quick, sad smile. ‘Sure, I always seem to be apologising, don’t I?’
‘Ah well, no harm done,’ murmured Niall, lifting his eyes to her again.
‘You’re very gracious.’ Even now she remained annoyed with herself. ‘After I treated you like that, not even granting you the chance to say otherwise …’ She shook her head in self-punishment.
Forgiving her everything, Niall took advantage, smiling warmly as he said, ‘Does that mean you’ll reconsider my invitation?’
She looked at first amazed. ‘You still want me to go out with you after that?’ Then, at his keen nod, she became flustered. ‘Well … I would, but you see …’
‘You don’t go out with customers,’ he provided.
‘No, yes, no, what I mean is—’
‘Some might say I deserve to be exempt from that rule, having putting up with such injury.’ How daring that was for him to say!
Her attempts to explain were stilted. ‘’Tis awkward … you don’t really know me…’
But this only gave Niall further encouragement, for it was plain from her expression and the lack of an outright no that she very much wanted to say yes. Now it was he who was the better orator, his tone calm and reasonable and kind. ‘I thought that’s why people went out together, so they can get to know each other.’
‘Sometimes you never really get to know a person.’ In the course of those few moments, despite her apparent attraction towards him, Boadicea seemed to have become inexplicably edgy. ‘Anyhow, what I really meant was, you’ve no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.’
‘I won’t know unless I’m granted the chance.’ From the way she had uttered her latest remark, and her determination to hold him at arm’s length, Niall got the strong impression that she had been hurt by someone; could see a struggle taking place behind that fair visage. He was about to reassure her, but just at that moment a customer slammed his glass on the other end of the counter and bawled for a refill. Apparently relieved at being rescued, Boadicea swiftly excused herself and hurried away.
Niall continued to watch her closely, denouncing his former lack of confidence as he did so, for he saw now that although she did use that smile of hers to great effect on others, her eyes did not behold them in the way they did him. And so, for once undeterred, he was content to bide his time while she rushed about and pretended to