Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
2023
Saoirse
“We are now arriving at Drogheda. The next station is Dundalk.”
The generic announcement interrupts Maura’s story and I find myself resenting the prerecorded voice.
“Did you really marry a man you had only known six months?” I say, willing the train to slow down and give me time to hear more.
Maura smiles. “I did. But it was different back then. My mother warned me that when you meet a fella like Christopher Davenport you don’t waste time. Besides, I knew Christy as well after six months as some women know their chaps after six years.”
My chest tightens. Miles and I will have been together six years this summer and sometimes, like this morning, I wonder if we really know each other at all. I slide my phone out of my pocket and glance at the screen, checking for a text from him. I don’t find any.
“Christy and I went to the pictures almost every night,” Maura continues. “We met for lunch most days too.”
“I can’t remember the last time Miles and I went to the cinema. Or out for lunch. Or out at all, really,” I confess. “Both of our jobs are shift work. Sometimes we just pass like ships in the night. And when we are off together, we’re usually so tired we stay in with a takeaway or something.”
“Staying in sounds lovely,” Maura says. “A night in front of the fire and a bit of telly can be better than any date.”
I smile. I don’t tell her that Miles and I live in an apartment and that we haven’t watched anything that isn’t streamed since we moved in. Once again, I find myself longing to live in a simpler time, a time with open fires and black-and-white television.
“We didn’t have to deal with commuting in my day,” Maura says suddenly, with a sigh of relief. “I know a chap who commutes from the Midlands to Dublin every day for work. Two hours on the train in the morning. And the same again home.” She seems flabbergasted just thinking about it.
“At least he’s not stuck in traffic,” I say. “Miles can sit on the M50 for an hour some evenings barely moving an inch at a time. It drives him crazy.”
“Well, no wonder he’s tired,” she says, and her kind eyes seem a little tired too. “The farthest Christy and I had to go to see each other was a stroll over the Ha’penny Bridge. He worked a short hop across town in Jervis Street Hospital—it’s a shopping center now. Do you know it?”
I nod. Everyone knows the Jervis Street Shopping Center. But I wouldn’t imagine a whole lot of young people know it was once a busy hospital. As a nurse, I can’t imagine two places more different than a hospital and a supermarket.
“I spent a week there in nineteen seventy. Something to think about next time you pop in for some frozen peas.” Maura laughs. Her chuckles are hearty and contagious and I find myself giggling too. “I could never have imagined how much would change in fifty years. But that’s the beauty of time. You can’t save it. You can only spend it wisely. I like to think I did.”
The train creeps into the station and comes to a screechy stop.
“We are now arriving at Drogheda. Mind the gap.”
The doors open and passengers filter off.
“This is you,” Maura says, pointing out the window at the platform.
I glance at my phone again and at the blank screen with no messages. I’m surprised when the feeling that follows is relief. I’m not ready to talk to Miles. I’m not ready to go home and have a conversation that will inevitably end with raised voices and tears until finally one of us backs down and offers an apology that we don’t mean just so we can move on.
“You know, maybe I could get off at the next stop,” I say.
“Please stand back behind the yellow line. This is the thirteen-fifty enterprise service to Belfast. Calling at Dundalk, Newry, Portadown, Belfast.”
Different people come aboard. The doors close and I’m relieved that we’re moving again, as if once we keep chugging forward I won’t have to think about going home.
“More tea?” I ask.
Maura checks her watch. “It’s nearly two o’clock,” she says. “What is it you young people call it these days? Oh yes, wine o’clock.”
I let out a startled laugh.
“It’s wine o’clock, Saoirse. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I couldn’t agree more.