Chapter Fifty-Five

 

The following morning, Aileen couldn’t raise enough interest to get out of bed. The world was a different place without Dermot. His reaction yesterday had shocked her, leaving her with feelings of shame and regret. How was she going to face today, of all days; her birthday? Her da was bound to notice something was wrong if she didn’t put in an appearance. After last night’s charade, she felt mortified.

She pulled the bedspread over her head when she heard a tap on her bedroom door, and her da walked in, a smile on his face as he carried a breakfast tray. ‘I thought as you weren’t up yet I’d surprise you for your birthday.’ He placed the tray down on the bedside table.

‘Oh, Da.’ She swallowed. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’ It was so nice of him, and brought a smile to her face.

He sat down on the bed. ‘This is from me.’

She sat up, propped her pillow behind her head and unwrapped the small gift. Her eyes brightened. ‘They’re beautiful, Da.’

‘They belonged to your mother. She would have wanted you to have them.’

Aileen clipped on the pearl earrings set in the centre of a cluster of tiny diamantes. Then she leant across him. ‘I’ll treasure them.’

He sniffed. ‘Well, I’m glad I kept them safe for you.’ He stood up. ‘Bead asked me to give you this. She said you can change it if you don’t like it.’ He passed the wrapped package. ‘She also hopes you’re feeling better.’

Aileen sighed. ‘I’m sorry if I let people down, Da, but…’

‘Oh, that’s all right. They understood. Dermot’s mam grumbled a bit when Dermot wasn’t there, but once he returned she was full of sympathy for you. Said she suffered with bad heads when she was younger and had to lie down in a darkened room.’ He chuckled. ‘Me, I ate too much cake.’

‘Thanks, Da.’

‘I’ll see you downstairs.’

When he had left, she felt overwhelmed by his understanding. In an attempt to cheer herself up, she switched on her transistor to the Beatles singing their latest hit, We Can Work It Out. The words seemed poignant in her present dilemma; if only she could make Dermot understand.

The song gave her a new determination. She straightened her shoulders, trying to regain some semblance of control, then finished her tea and toast and got dressed. She pulled the blue angora jumper over her head—the present from Aunt Bead. It matched her new cream skirt she had bought the previous week. As she went downstairs, she wondered if her twin was doing anything special today.

She placed the dishes into the sink and began to wash them.

‘Leave that, love. Why don’t you get off, go somewhere nice with Dermot? Weather-wise, it’s not a bad day for a drive along the coast.’ She gave him a weak smile but carried on drying the dishes and putting them away. ‘You’ve no need to worry about me.’

‘It’s not that, Da.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down.

He arched his eyebrows. ‘Aileen, it’s your birthday, and somehow I get the feeling that something’s bothering you. Am I right?’

By opening up to her da, she risked being alienated from his affections, but she had to tell someone. She sighed, wishing that she had some good news to impart. ‘Da, can I talk to you about something delicate?’

‘Good Lord! You’re not?’

‘No, Da. It’s nothing like that.’ She couldn’t imagine feeling any worse if it was. With a heavy heart, she moved across the room and sat down next to him on the sofa.

‘Well, what is it? Whatever it is, you’d better spit it out.’

* * *

Half an hour later, Aileen sat fidgeting with the rib of her jumper. She glanced across at her da, his expression strained, his brow furrowed. Her story had stunned him into silence, and it filled her with dread. What if he, too, turned away from her?

‘Oh, Da.’ She stood up. ‘Please don’t hate me.’ A sob caught the back of her throat.

He held out his hand, and she sat down again. ‘Hate you? Don’t be silly. You have to admit you were naive in the way you thought about this man.’ He shifted, and then he placed his arm around her. In that solitary moment, she felt her shoulders relax. ‘I’ve no right to judge you,’ he continued. ‘Sure, we all react differently to grief and loneliness. You could have killed yourself in that car, and God only knows what that lunatic was capable of.’

He removed his arm and cleared his throat. Linking his fingers, he twirled one thumb over the other.

‘I really love Dermot, Da. Now he hates me.’ She sobbed. ‘We were supposed to be getting engaged last night.’

He nodded. ‘Well, to be honest, I thought he looked uncomfortable last night. Dermot’s behaviour is understandable. Look how I reacted when your mother, Lord rest her soul, told me a secret she’d kept for years. Sure, I didn’t know the whole story then, did I?’

‘Oh, Da. what am I going to do?’

He stood up, walked to the window, and glanced out at the cloudy sky; something he did a lot when he was thinking. He turned back into the room. ‘Dermot doesn’t know the whole story either. He’s a man, as stubborn as I was. If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have gone away in the first place. I can’t bear to think of how lonely you must have been over there. I’m so sorry, love.’

‘Don’t blame yourself, Da. It wasn’t you who drove me away.’ She hooked her hair behind one ear. ‘I’ve grown up a lot in the past few months.’

He sat down again. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a criminal record. Thank the Lord the blighter dropped the charges before he…’

‘I still can’t believe he did that, Da.’

‘The mind is a complicated machine, Aileen. I’ve found that out by talking things through with the doctor. It’s a mistake to bottle things up.’

Aileen reached out, linked her arm through his, and nodded. ‘I only hope that Dermot will come to realise I’ve not been unfaithful.’

‘I can have a word. Make things right between the two of you before this gets out of hand.’

‘No, Da.’ She sat upright. ‘You’ve helped me by understanding what I’ve been going through. I just couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.’

‘What about Dermot?’

‘If he loves me like he says he does, he’ll give me the benefit of the doubt.’

Her da shook his head. ‘I don’t agree, love. If he’s as stubborn as me, you might wait a long time.’

* * *

Aileen was in the kitchen making a drink and her da was reading his newspaper when Fiona came through from the shop and tapped lightly on the open door. ‘I thought you’d like your post, Mr Maguire.’

He turned and looked over his shoulder. ‘Thanks, Fiona. How’s it going out there?’

‘Busy enough. The liquorice allsorts are running low.’

‘Make a note of it and I’ll be out to relieve you shortly.’ He picked up the post as Aileen walked in balancing a tray of tea and biscuits.

‘I’ve just made tea if you’d like a cup?’ She smiled at the other woman.

‘I’d better not.’ The shop bell chimed, and Fiona gestured with her eyes before hurrying out.

Aileen placed the tray down. ‘They're nearly all for you today, love.’ Aileen sat down to open her cards, but the one she wanted most wasn’t among them. ‘How nice of Val to remember my birthday, Da.’

He nodded then got up and fetched a knife from the kitchen to open his post. His eyes scanned the length of the handwritten letter.

‘My word, Aileen, it’s from Tom.’ He sat down again to read it, his face a mixture of emotions.

Aileen sat next to him. ‘What’s he say, Da?’ She tried to read over his shoulder until he passed it to her. The fact that it was written a day before their birthday and on hospital notepaper did not detract from the beautiful handwriting, or the very formal way in which it was written.

Dear Sir,

17th March, 1967

Forgive me if my approach appears formal, Mr Maguire. As we don’t know each other, it wouldn’t feel right for me to address you any other way. I thank you for your letter and for the information it contained and trust it to be genuine. I apologise for my lack of communication until now.

I expect to be released from the sanatorium in the next few days, and, please can I ask you not to come to see me here. I will be in touch with you again shortly, if for no other reason than curiosity. I want to know my background and how I came to end up in a children’s orphanage.

This is all very strange to me, as I was never told anything about you.

Sincerely,

Tom Miller.

‘Oh, Da. Poor Tom.’ She felt sad for her brother’s life and that he had missed so much of theirs. Her da didn’t speak for several minutes, and she could see he was struggling to put his feelings into words.

‘We’ve made progress, Da.’ She passed back the letter. ‘I can’t wait to see him.’ A tear trickled down her cheek and she dashed it away.

He nodded. ‘He’s ill, Aileen.’ He cleared his throat and folded the letter slowly and put it back in the envelope.

‘What do you suppose is wrong with him?’

‘Could be tuberculosis. He must have been bad to spend time in a sanatorium. If he accepts us, I’ll make sure he never wants for anything; you neither, love. I’ll get him the best care I can afford.’

Aileen placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘We both will. You know, Da, although I feel sad for Tom, this is turning out to be a memorable birthday after all.’

Her da shook his head, and a gentle smile lifted his face. ‘Yes, indeed it is, love.’