know,’ Aggie admitted, her face flaming again, but this time with shame. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Did I push you away?’
‘No, but …’
‘For two pins I would repeat the experience,’ McAllister said, reaching out for Aggie, but she twirled out of his grasp.
‘No, no!’ she cried. ‘We mustn’t.’
‘We mustn’t,’ McAllister mimicked, but gently. ‘Mustn’t touch, mustn’t kiss, and mustn’t have fun in any shape or form.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Stop being sorry. Stop saying you’re sorry,’ he snapped. He seemed to think for a moment and then suddenly said, ‘Well, if a kiss and cuddle is out, then we must dance. Take off your shawl and boots and we’ll make a start.’
Aggie looked at him and knew that while one part of her wanted to go into his arms willingly, the other part was urging her to bid the man good night and go home. She did neither, and as she removed her shawl she said, ‘I can’t dance without Cissie,’ because the two girls had been practising a duet they were to perform in the Christmas concert put on by the Church.
‘Aren’t you the girl for finding problems where there are none?’ McAllister said. ‘We will do dances that need not include Cissie.’
‘We will?’
‘Yes, we will. They are called polkas. They’re fun to do and a chance for me to hold you in my arms legitimately. What do you say?’
‘I say maybe I should go home.’
‘You disappoint me, Agnes.’ McAllister shook his head sadly. ‘Really you do.’
Aggie thought of her home and knew she wouldn’t be right in the door before her mother would be roaring at her for something and there would be a list of jobs waiting for her. And if she went, she would upset the man she admired before all others. Anyway, she wanted to stay in the church hall, lit softly by the paraffin lamps, and she knew too she would be warmed further by McAllister’s arms around her as they moved to the music.
‘I’ll stay,’ she decided, facing him, and he beamed in approval.
‘Good girl.’ And he took her in his arms.
Aggie loved the polkas, the tantalising and evocative music, and dancing in McAllister’s arms was just heavenly. They danced for ages, stopping only when the gramophone needed cranking up. Eventually they were completely out of breath.
‘Sit down and recover before you attempt the walk home,’ McAllister invited. ‘And tell me about yourself.’
Aggie couldn’t remember opening her soul as she did that night with McAllister. The man listened to the child – she was little more – who was at it from dawn till dusk just because she had the misfortune to be the elder girl in the family.
‘That’s why I love dancing, you see,’ she said. ‘It is a chance to get out. Mammy would have stopped me ages ago if Daddy hadn’t put his foot down.’
‘I’m glad he did then.’
‘Mm, so am I. Have you any family? Brothers, sisters?’
‘I have three brothers older than me who hightailed it to the States, and an older sister, Gwen, living in Birmingham,’ McAllister told her, taking a hip flask of poteen out of his pocket as he spoke and taking a long drink. ‘I was the baby.’
‘And spoiled, no doubt,’ Aggie smiled. ‘Like Nuala will probably be. She is just ten months old and she rules the roost already.’
‘But Nuala might not be the youngest always,’ McAllister said, and laughed at the blush forming on Aggie’s cheeks. ‘Now what’s embarrassed you?’ he asked.
‘It’s just … well, the thought of my parents doing that sort of thing.’
‘What sort of thing?’ McAllister teased. ‘Sex?’
Aggie gave a gasp. ‘I don’t think we should say that word.’
‘What word? Sex? Let me tell you, girl, the world would be a very peculiar place without it. You do know what it is all about, don’t you?’
Aggie nodded. ‘Of course I do.’ She lived on a farm and had seen the bull brought in to service the cows, the ram for the ewes, the boar for the sow, and the baby animals born afterwards.
McAllister, guessing a lot of the thoughts tumbling around in Aggie’s head, said, ‘You have seen the animals at it, I imagine, but for humans there is pleasure to be had too.’
Aggie’s face was a picture, for she had never heard that before. She looked at McAllister incredulously and he laughed as he pulled her to her feet.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Get your boots and your shawl. It’s time to go home.’
Aggie was loath to bring the evening to an end. It had been a special time with just the two of them, which would probably never happen again.
At the door McAllister took another hefty drink from the flask and offered it to Aggie. ‘Care for a drop?’
Aggie smiled as she shook her head. ‘Daddy gave me a wee sip just the other day and it burned my mouth and my throat, and afterwards it was as if my stomach was on fire. I have no liking for it at all.’
‘You don’t know what you are missing, girl,’ McAllister told her. ‘Still, your loss, sweetheart. Now, I will see you home.’
‘Oh, but really there is no need.’
‘Agnes, the wind would near cut a body in two and the night air is raw and bone-chillingly cold,’ McAllister said firmly. ‘If you will not have a wee drop of poteen to help you cope with that, then you need my arms around you to keep you from freezing altogether.’
Aggie did not protest. She could think of few things nicer than walking home wrapped in her warmest shawl and cuddled into Bernie McAllister, and she nodded her head happily.
‘I’d like that,’ she said, and they stepped into the night together.
Aggie recalled that walk home many times. She remembered how secure and protected she had felt. McAllister had his arm tight around her so that, despite the bleakness of the night, she felt glowingly warm inside.
He had been telling himself since they’d set out to go easy and have a bit of common sense, but the very nearness of Aggie was making him harden. He knew to touch her was madness. Hadn’t his wife threatened what she would do if ever she found him at it again, after that last time?
And he knew that if they hadn’t had the offer of the grocery store, and been able to flee to Ireland when they had, he’d have more than likely been laid out in a hospital bed, if not on a mortuary slab, as soon as the pregnancy of their neighbour’s daughter had become obvious. He remembered how she had pleaded with him for help and he had promised to think of something, even as they were making plans to leave. He had blamed the girl for her condition, though, claiming that she had teased him and flirted with him outrageously and that a man was only flesh and blood after all.
He had seen the telltale flush of shame steal over the girl’s face and she had even apologised for leading him on so. He had patted her hand and said she wasn’t to worry her wee head about it any longer; that he would deal with it.
How Philomena found out he never knew, but she had and she was not best pleased. Yet she made plans to leave at once and in the early morning before many were astir. McAllister had a fleeting flash of pity for the young girl left alone to cope, but it was gone in an instant and he had to admit he was relieved to be away out of it.
When