coming? These two weeks were to be a sort of honeymoon, the start of our life together. Oh, God!” he cried hoarsely, showing emotion for the first time. “I spent hours in the station waiting room trying to digest what had happened. It wasn’t just as if the bottom had dropped out of the world, the whole world had disappeared. How could I live without you? Without Tony? I felt like killing myself”
Eileen whispered, “I don’t suppose you’ll believe it, but I felt exactly the same.”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t believe it, no. But I tell you this, Eileen, no woman will ever make me feel like that again. I’ll never give my heart to anyone for as long as I live.”
“Please don’t talk like that, luv.” She clutched his arm involuntarily but he shook her off, and she felt as if her own heart would break.
“So, what caused the volte-face?” he asked.
She had no idea what he meant. “The what?” His lips twitched and he was the old Nick for a moment. He always teased her when she didn’t understand the words he sometimes used.
The old Nick vanished as quickly as it had come. “The about turn?” he snapped.
“I realised I’d acted too hastily,” she mumbled. “I was on the point of leaving the house when they brought Francis home. It would have been different if I’d had some warning. You’re not the only one to think the -world had ended. It seemed the fairest thing to do was set you free to meet someone else, a woman without all the paraphernalia that comes with me.” If she thought that would mollify him a little, she was wrong.
“Someone else?” he said incredulously. “You were setting me free for someone else? Well, thanks all the same, but the only woman I’ve ever wanted is you. It just shows how trite you considered our relationship, that you can visualise me with another woman.”
“It near tore me in two thinking about it,” she whispered.
“Once things had calmed down a bit and I’d had time to think, I realised it didn’t have to be the end. Once Francis is on his feet again, I can still leave.”
“You didn’t think of telephoning and informing me of your change of heart?” he asked lightly.
“No,” she confessed.
He uttered a sardonic, “Huh”, and she said, angry for the first time, “Jaysus, Nick! I’ve never used a telephone in me life until yours. I’m not used to them, it didn’t cross me mind.” She stood and began to wander around the room. She noticed the ornaments she’d brought on the mantelpiece, the photo of her family in pride of place on the lace runner on top of the sideboard. This “would have been her home. ‘Anyroad,’ she went on, still angry, ‘if you were as upset as you make out, why didn’t you come looking for me? I almost thought you had, for a minute, when I went out for a while to clear me head.’
He frowned. “Perhaps I should have. I thought about it, but by then it was too late. You’d shot your bolt, as they say.”
“What about the card you sent? It said, ‘We’ll meet again’.”
“Well, we have, haven’t we?”
“I never thought you could be so cruel!”
“Cruel? My dear, the Marquis de Sade has nothing on you when it comes to being cruel.”
She didn’t reply. The remark made no sense and she didn’t want to make herself appear even more ignorant by asking for an interpretation. Really, she thought dispassionately, they weren’t well matched at all. He was highly educated, whereas she’d left school at thirteen. He spoke differently than she did and used all sorts of fancy words. He’d be far better off with a woman of his own—she hesitated to use the word “class”, because her dad would have a fit if he thought she considered herself inferior to any man or woman on earth - a woman on the same level, she decided. A woman who’d gone to university, that’s if women did, she’d no idea, who wore elegant clothes and used expensive perfume, not someone in ugly overalls who stank of
Eileen whispered, “I don’t suppose you’ll believe it, but I felt exactly the same.”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t believe it, no. But I tell you this, Eileen, no woman will ever make me feel like that again. I’ll never give my heart to anyone for as long as I live.”
“Please don’t talk like that, luv.” She clutched his arm involuntarily but he shook her off, and she felt as if her own heart would break.
“So, what caused the volte-face?” he asked.
She had no idea what he meant. “The what?” His lips twitched and he was the old Nick for a moment. He always teased her when she didn’t understand the words he sometimes used.
The old Nick vanished as quickly as it had come. “The about turn?” he snapped.
“I realised I’d acted too hastily,” she mumbled. “I was on the point of leaving the house when they brought Francis home. It would have been different if I’d had some warning. You’re not the only one to think the -world had ended. It seemed the fairest thing to do was set you free to meet someone else, a woman without all the paraphernalia that comes with me.” If she thought that would mollify him a little, she was wrong.
“Someone else?” he said incredulously. “You were setting me free for someone else? Well, thanks all the same, but the only woman I’ve ever wanted is you. It just shows how trite you considered our relationship, that you can visualise me with another woman.”
“It near tore me in two thinking about it,” she whispered.
“Once things had calmed down a bit and I’d had time to think, I realised it didn’t have to be the end. Once Francis is on his feet again, I can still leave.”
“You didn’t think of telephoning and informing me of your change of heart?” he asked lightly.
“No,” she confessed.
He uttered a sardonic, “Huh”, and she said, angry for the first time, “Jaysus, Nick! I’ve never used a telephone in me life until yours. I’m not used to them, it didn’t cross me mind.” She stood and began to wander around the room. She noticed the ornaments she’d brought on the mantelpiece, the photo of her family in pride of place on the lace runner on top of the sideboard. This “would have been her home. ‘Anyroad,’ she went on, still angry, ‘if you were as upset as you make out, why didn’t you come looking for me? I almost thought you had, for a minute, when I went out for a while to clear me head.’
He frowned. “Perhaps I should have. I thought about it, but by then it was too late. You’d shot your bolt, as they say.”
“What about the card you sent? It said, ‘We’ll meet again’.”
“Well, we have, haven’t we?”
“I never thought you could be so cruel!”
“Cruel? My dear, the Marquis de Sade has nothing on you when it comes to being cruel.”
She didn’t reply. The remark made no sense and she didn’t want to make herself appear even more ignorant by asking for an interpretation. Really, she thought dispassionately, they weren’t well matched at all. He was highly educated, whereas she’d left school at thirteen. He spoke differently than she did and used all sorts of fancy words. He’d be far better off with a woman of his own—she hesitated to use the word “class”, because her dad would have a fit if he thought she considered herself inferior to any man or woman on earth - a woman on the same level, she decided. A woman who’d gone to university, that’s if women did, she’d no idea, who wore elegant clothes and used expensive perfume, not someone in ugly overalls who stank of
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