then so be it.’ Encouraged that she did not immediately dismiss him, he leaned nearer to her, conscious that he might be overheard, issuing his plea in a low earnest murmur. ‘Just give us a chance. Then if you decide you don’t want to go out with me again I’ll gladly stand aside – well, not gladly, but you know what I mean.’ He wondered if she did know what he meant; if his roundabout bumbling fashion had been sufficient to let her know how he truly felt about her.
Somehow, it must have struck a chord, for she too leaned forward to whisper, ‘Look, Mr Doran, I like you—’
His face and spirits brightened considerably, though his voice was gruff. ‘I like you, an’ all. And me name’s Niall.’
But she sought to temper any excitement her remark may have caused. ‘– so I’m going to tell you something and I’m not sure you’ll feel the same afterwards.’ She waited a second, checked that no one else could hear, then whispered, ‘I’m married.’
Immediately she saw his shocked eyes go to her ring finger. With the thumb and forefinger of her right hand, she rubbed self-consciously at the denuded digit. ‘I took it off when he left me. I don’t know where he is and I don’t care.’
‘I knew you’d been hurt!’ Niall exclaimed.
‘Ssh! Nobody else knows, not even the people I board with.’
‘Why? It’s none of your fault. I’d say he’s the one to blame for running out on you.’ Niall found himself full of hatred for the one who had got there first.
‘I just don’t like people knowing my private affairs,’ whispered Boadicea firmly.
‘Neither do I.’ Still shaken, but pleased to find something that they shared, he confirmed, ‘They won’t hear it from me.’
She smiled and tilted her head in appreciation. ‘But now you can see why I’m not really free to walk out with you or anybody. Much as I’d like to,’ came her sincere addition, her eyes endorsing this as they held his face.
Searching them, he pondered her answer for a while. In fact he was not to say anything else on the matter, for Boadicea was taken from him again. When she returned he had almost finished his pint. Deep in thought, mainly ones of jealousy, he emerged to ask, ‘What will you do if you never see him again?’
She shrugged, took up a cloth and wiped spills from the counter. ‘It’s no loss.’
Niall shook his head. ‘No, I meant it’s not much of a life being on your own.’
Instead of identifying with this statement she exclaimed with a smile, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Sure, I’m happy enough with the folk in my boarding house.’
He kept his voice low, their conversation interspersed by the sporadic thud of darts into a board and occasional applause. ‘So you’d never contemplate marrying anyone else? I’m not hinting or anything!’ he hastened to add with a laugh. ‘I’m just interested to know, being in a similar position. Even if you were free—’
‘Never,’ she said adamantly. ‘Once bitten and all that.’
Stricken by bitter disappointment, Niall wondered if this showed. ‘Still, it can’t feel good knowing you’re tied to somebody, yet not married in the real sense.’
‘Marriage isn’t for me,’ she said with certainty.
It hadn’t been for him a couple of weeks ago. How swiftly could one’s life change. Desperate, utterly consumed by his need to possess her one way or another, he exclaimed, ‘Tell you what! How about coming out with me just as a friend then? We both know where we stand. I can’t see it’d do any harm and we like each other’s company – least I think we do,’ he ended with an embarrassed laugh.
She hesitated, probing his eyes warily, before replying, ‘I suppose so …’
‘Next week?’ Having rationed himself to one night out per week, it might look suspicious to Nora if he were to start making regular outings again. ‘What day?’ He half expected another excuse.
But no. ‘I’ve got next Monday evening off,’ she told him. ‘In fact every Monday evening from now on ’cause they’re changed my hours.’
Niall’s heart soared in triumph, and though he tried his best to disguise this for fear of scaring her away, his face appeared brighter than she had seen it for weeks. ‘Do you like the pictures?’ At her enthusiastic nod, he began to list the options. ‘There’s Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi at the Rialto – or maybe you prefer Greta Garbo?’
‘No, give me a good fright any day.’ She cocked her head knowingly. ‘I see you’ve already checked to see what’s on. I admire your confidence.’
‘I wasn’t confident at all, just hopeful.’
Her eyes were warm but stern. ‘Remember we’re just friends.’
‘Just friends.’ But his gut was taut with excitement.
‘The Rialto it is then.’
He grinned his delight at the venue so easily being agreed. Then, with a care as to who might see them, he added, ‘Shall I meet you outside? It’ll have to be second house ’cause I’m working away and I sometimes don’t get home while seven.’
‘That’ll be grand,’ smiled Boadicea.
And the deal was struck.
Niall could hardly believe this was happening – would refuse to believe it until she was standing there outside the cinema – and he bade himself not to become overexhilarated. Even so, there were plans to construct. For a start he would need more than his usual pocket money from Nora. Without wanting to explain what the extra amount was for, he took it from his wage packet on Friday before handing it over. The slightest hesitation as she opened it showed that she had noticed the packet had been tampered with, though to his relief she did not remark on it.
Then there was the question of his whereabouts. Having allotted Monday as his night out there would be no trouble getting away, but with two films and a newsreel to watch, he would be out much longer than usual. Whilst he laboured on the railway line, he was to mull over a list of excuses. But why not be truthful? At least half truthful? It wasn’t illegal for a man to go to the pictures on his own and that was what he would let them assume.
Having made that decision, his next concern was what to wear. It bothered him that he could not dress in suit and tie, and he fretted over this as he donned these for Mass on Sunday. But there was much more to bother him that morning, for this was no ordinary Sabbath. Only the most thick-skinned of men would have enquired what ailed the children, who sat all misty-eyed and forlorn in preparation of their trip to church. Where others would offer flowers and prayers of gladness on this, Mothering Sunday, Honor, Dom, Juggy, Batty and Brian would only be reminded of their still raw loss, and Niall’s heart went out to them, knowing how empty was this festival for those without a mother. His eyes pricked with tears when Juggy was the one to articulate her own despair and that of her siblings. ‘I wanted to make one for you, Gran,’ she murmured sadly, as she examined the cards on the sideboard that had been sent by Nora’s daughters, ‘but, ’teacher wouldn’t let me. She said we could only make one for our mothers …’
Everyone looked round as Honor rushed outside. Not knowing what to do, a concerned Niall glanced at Nora, but she shook her head as if to say leave the child be.
Whilst the boys hung their heads, Juggy turned her attention back to the cards. ‘I told her I didn’t have a mam any more – Mary Kelly put her hand up, an’ all – but ’teacher said it wasn’t called Grannying Sunday and those of us who didn’t have a mam could do jobs instead, so I had to bash the chalk out of the blackboard duster.’
‘Stupid bloody woman,’ muttered a tearful Harriet to her mother, as she turned away to put on her hat.
Niall was angry too, but his voice was soft as he bent over to address his little daughter. ‘If