couldn’t help smiling. Joanne would give her eyeteeth to be in my shoes just now, she thought, because as yet she hadn’t been to one of the dances there. But how could she, Maria, go to a dance? She hadn’t the clothes, and even if she had, she didn’t know how to dance properly. So she said, ‘I haven’t danced for years. Anyway, they’ll hardly be playing the music for a jig or the odd hornpipe.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Barney conceded.
‘Well, I don’t know how to do anything else, waltz, foxtrot and all,’ Maria said.
‘There isn’t much of that either,’ Barney said. ‘By all accounts it’s mainly jitterbugging.’
‘Jitterbugging! What the hell is jitterbugging?’
‘The new craze sweeping America, if you believe all you read in the papers,’ Barney said. ‘Do you want to go?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’
‘Just for a look,’ Barney said. ‘Go on, Maria, say you’ll go. I haven’t seen jitterbugging either. I’d like to know what the fuss is all about.’
Maria couldn’t see Barney’s face in the blackout, but she heard the pleading in his voice and she felt sorry for him. He turned up every week, regular as clockwork, to take her to the cinema, to see something she chose, and she never gave anything back. A few times, he’d tried to hold her hand and she’d pulled away. Each time he’d left her at the door and she’d gone inside, while he’d walked home with Dora. He’d never complained to her, though she’d seen the disappointment in his eyes. Surely she could do this one little thing for him? ‘If you want then.’
‘If you don’t like it, we don’t have to stay.’
‘No, all right,’ Maria said. ‘I expect I will like it well enough when I get there.’ She reached for his hand as she spoke and heard Barney’s sharp intake of breath as their hands met. It was surprisingly how comforting it was to have her hand held by a strong man’s, Maria thought, and as they made their way to the bus stop, Barney’s heart was lighter than it had been for ages.
That night, Barney was asked in and Dora made her way home alone, waving away Barney’s offer of help. ‘Not in my dotage yet, and don’t you forget it,’ she said.
Barney’s grin at Dora’s words took Maria by surprise. Barney was a handsome man, she’d always thought, but she hadn’t seen him as desirable. For all they’d been out together, she hadn’t counted them as dates. She’d never had the slightest interest in Barney that way. After Greg she thought she’d never feel that way for anyone again. Now it was quite reassuring to find she wasn’t dead inside, but had just been deeply asleep.
Barney too felt the easing of tension in Maria and accepted the tea she gave him. But he was careful not to push it, not to outstay his welcome. When he drew her into his arms to kiss her good night, she went willingly, and when his kisses became more ardent, she didn’t pull away, but responded.
He felt as if he was walking on air that night as he made his way home.
Maria was quite shocked by jitterbugging at first. It seemed too vibrant, the movements, such as they were, done in an almost abandoned manner. The place was, of course, dripping with Americans. Maria had come across many in Derry, but as she dressed in workday clothes, usually with her hair covered by a turban, she’d never had more than a cursory glance.
However, that night the dress she had on was one she’d made herself from some shiny green satin she’d had for ages. She’d often designed her own clothes and the dress was spectacular—fitted across the bust, with long flowing sleeves, the waist was dropped and the skirts fuller from there with little pleats tucking into the waistband.
Barney was almost speechless when he’d come to pick her up that evening. Her eyes looked greener and larger than ever. He saw many people turn to stare at Maria as they made their way into the hall. Nor was Maria allowed to sit at a table to watch all evening. She refused many offers to dance, saying she didn’t know how to do it, but eventually a couple approached.
‘Don’t say you don’t know how to do it, lady,’ said the man. ‘It’s easy. So, how will it be if I teach you, while my girl teaches your man?’
Maria felt she’d rather have crept away to the ladies’, but she saw by Barney’s face he’d like to do this and so she nodded her head and let the man lead her onto the dance floor. It was as easy as the soldier had prophesied, and the music great to dance to. Maria was only afraid when the man caught her around the waist and swung her around that she might show her knickers, for the skirt of her dress fanned out like a flower.
But, all in all, she enjoyed her first American dance. Barney was proud of her, proud to be seen with her, and though he had no objection to her dancing with others, he kept a weather eye on the situation. He’d almost lost Maria once to another by staying quiet; he had no intention of running that risk again so he made sure he danced with Maria more than any other.
Maria knew what Barney was afraid of—she could almost feel his unease—but he needn’t have worried. She had no designs on any American. But it was nice to be admired, to be openly told how beautiful, charming, truly lovely she was. It gave Maria a boost, as it would any girl. It didn’t matter if they said the same to everyone, it made her feel good about herself, which was something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
That evening there was no question of Barney going straight home. As he followed Maria in, Dora began collecting her things together.
‘Good night?’
‘Oh, Dora, it was wonderful,’ Maria said. ‘Did you have any trouble?’
‘No, your mother never stirred and your father has been asleep for about two hours,’ Dora said.
Maria knew it would have been a poteen-induced sleep, but she wasn’t going to worry about that any more.
She closed the door on Dora and said to Barney, ‘Thank you, I’ve had a lovely evening.’ She kissed him gently on the lips and when he put his arms around her, she held him tight and sighed. Barney released her, took her hand and led her to the settee, where he sat and pulled her down beside him.
There was no point, Barney thought, in beating about the bush. ‘Do you like me, Maria?’
‘Of course I like you.’
‘Could you more than like me? Love me even?’
‘I’ve never thought of you that way.’
‘Do you still think of him that did the dirty on you?’
Greg? All the time, Maria might have said, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she said. ‘I did. He hurt me very much, that time.’
‘Did you love him?’
Maria nodded. ‘And I know I feel something for you, but I’m not sure what yet. I think I need a little time before I can be sure of my feelings.’
‘And we’ll continue seeing each other?’
‘Of course,’ Maria said. ‘Anyway, we could hardly not with all you do for Daddy.’
‘I like your father, Maria,’ Barney said. ‘I get on well with him and always have.’
‘I know this,’ Maria said. She knew that Barney hadn’t taken to her mother—couldn’t take to her—but then he wouldn’t be the only person made nervous by mental illness.
‘We’ll leave it so for now then,’ Barney said, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll press you no further tonight, but will await your answer.’
Monday morning, Joanne wanted to know all about the dance, what Maria wore, what it was like and was jitterbugging