Anna
AMN’T I THE LUCKY GIRL, to come into Doyle’s and see both Jack and Betty?
Two bright life rings, right here. Today is the meeting of Betty’s book club.
She told me that I could come along if I had any interest. Though that was ages ago, I hope that she hasn’t forgotten.
So far, it’s only herself and Ciara Moore.
I wave to them, and they look at me like they don’t know me.
Like they aren’t expecting me, and I have ruptured their nice time.
Hesitating, embarrassed, I wonder if I should sit with them at all.
But then Betty smiles and Ciara waves at me. Okay, time to be brave.
‘Ladies, hello.’
I sit next to Betty; Ciara has to move to make room for me. That woman, always getting in the way. I’d have her skin for a drum.
Their conversation seems to have been suddenly derailed.
Maybe they are just a little worse for wear after last night.
No bother, I’ll get them warmed up. We will talk like we always talk.
About the lads and our mornings, little pieces of news from the town and frocks we saw at the dance.
Of course, if Ciara Moore wasn’t here, this would be altogether better.
But here she is. We have to make the best of her.
‘So what’s the book this month?’
They look at me like I’m speaking another language. Like they don’t realise that’s why we are all here. Ciara is the one to remember and takes Jane Eyre out of her bag.
‘Jesus, I nearly had the book club forgotten about!’
She laughs, and Betty puts a hand to her forehead, as though suddenly realising that is why I am here. I try not to let this embarrass me.
‘Have you read it?’
Betty asks, and I smile and nod, when actually, I’ve never heard of this Jane character.
She takes her own book out of her handbag.
Ciara’s copy wears a greyed plastic jacket, borrowed from the library.
Betty’s is brand new. Now and again, I glance over at Jack.
My safety net for when I fear I cannot keep up with these women.
But this is a good time. This is a wonderful, quiet way to live.
When things are good, they are amazing. Was that you I saw, just now, from the corner of my eye?
No, it can’t have been. Just somebody blonde out the window, maybe a sack of flour over somebody’s shoulder.
Jack drops a box of matches onto the table.
‘You’d never light a few candles, would you?’
How embarrassing, to be bossed around in front of Betty and her little friend. But for the sake of appearing calm and agreeable, I do what he asks. Teresa Doyle must be fascinating if he can’t even pull himself away from her for long enough to light a few candles. Ridiculous.
Perhaps if I didn’t say yes to him so often, he would stop asking me to do things for him.
I roll my eyes to Betty, and she laughs along, a little too politely to be friendly.
She isn’t going to address what happened between us last night.
And if she isn’t going to address it, then neither am I.
Maybe she is just as embarrassed as I am.
When my flurry of feelings passed, and I came back down to earth, I felt so foolish – that I always let myself become so reliant on people, that I can’t just have a nice time.
When the candles are lit, I sit back down.
Betty looks at me stiffly, sipping on her coffee.
I can smell it as it pools into her mouth.
How strange, I’ve never seen her at a loss for words.
But right now, she doesn’t know what to say to me.
If she would just put a hand on my knee or squeeze my shoulder.
Things she has done many times before, but which now seem as far off and improbable as Jack hopping up on the bar and singing ‘God Save the Queen’.
Oh, Betty, just touch me. Reach out, I am here. I am ready to receive you.
Ciara excuses herself, heading for the bathroom. Thank god, a moment alone. When she is gone, Betty turns to me.
‘I meant to say, we’re going to have a little party for Tom’s thirtieth soon, if you and the book club wanted to come?’
‘Listen, I want to talk to you.’
She stops me. And proving my suspicion that Betty can read my mind, she puts a hand on my leg.
Just for a moment. And in that moment, my thigh glows.
When she takes her hand away, there is still a luminous mark to show she was there.
I feel it, warm. From this close, I can see all the little thread veins on her cheeks.
Tiny, lucky little purple lines that get to lie down across her face every day.
She takes a settling breath and speaks quietly.
Go on, pet. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
‘You seemed a bit upset last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’
I don’t consider what she has said before answering her. I just want to move past it. Without wanting to, I sound overly eager.
‘Oh, I was grand! I didn’t mind a thing! I just hope I didn’t upset you.’
She moves as though she is going to speak, and then doesn’t. As though perhaps I did upset her and she doesn’t want to say. Look how uncomfortable she is. Where has this come from? I fidget with the box of matches.
‘Look, I think you’re a lovely friend, Anna. I just think it’s time you met a few more people besides me, you know? So you have lots of people in your corner. To stop relying on me so much.’
I can tell she wants to leave it there, but she can’t stop herself from adding,
‘I just need a small bit of space from you.’
I wait for her to say something nice, to finish it off on a good note. But that’s it. That’s all she has to say. Somehow, we have become closer than she wants us to be. Unbelievable. I put the box of matches up my sleeve to stop fiddling with it. Betty Nevan wants space from me.
‘Fine.’
I say, unable to say any more. She wants me to make other friends. Okay. Alright. I just don’t understand where this has come from. Clenching my teeth, I try to understand what I’ve done wrong. Clearly, she knows that she has touched a nerve.
‘Anna, sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
I am doing all I can not to lash out. I need to be somebody that she wants close to her, don’t I?
‘I said it’s fine.’
My voice, rock hard. Deep breaths, Anna. Staggered breaths.
‘Take Liam Hennessey, for example! He’s such a lovely man, Anna, but you didn’t give him a chance.’
She is talking to please herself now. As though her sweet, happy voice will make up for what she’s saying.
‘I’d like you to try and spread yourself out more, you might like it.’
This can’t be all about Liam Hennessey. His stinking breath and sweating hands. Is that all she thinks I deserve? What happened to us understanding each other?
‘And like today, you’ll meet some nice women you might like to be friends with.’
She is talking to me like I’m no more than Peggy’s age.
Ah, this is hard now. It stings all the way through me.
The tears start in my hands and run up through my arms and bulge behind my eyes.
Just waiting to spill out. But I swallow it all back, and be the person that she wants me to be, smiling a smile that strains my neck.
‘Say no more, Betty! I understand.’
I almost cheer my words, and manage to conceal everything else. Outwardly, it seems to be enough to satisfy her, although I know that, inside, she is not convinced. Just like she will know that, inside, I do not understand.
It’s just strange, because nothing about me has changed since she liked me.
I’m the very same girl that she stood in her doorway with, watching the men on the field.
The same girl she took out to feed the ducks.
I can’t put my finger on the moment I went wrong.
Why am I suddenly not enough? But wait, she must love me in a way that nobody else does, and care for me in a way that nobody else does, because nobody else has ever tried to talk to me like this.
For a moment, she smiles at me as though she never knew me at all.
I feel outside myself. And to stop myself from falling to the floor, I squeeze her hand.
And she lets me. It seems to be enough to create some genuine feeling between us.
For a moment, she knows me very well. Ciara hangs around the bar, chatting to Mary Doyle, and glancing at us in the mirror.
When she sees we are done talking, she comes back to join us.
‘Mary has only a month left, imagine! That was the fastest nine months ever.’
Fake bitch. How mortifying, to go along with conversations like this, knowing I am unwanted.
But this won’t last; I won’t let it last. I have been here before.
And while I don’t know exactly what to do to get her back, I know what not to do.
I learned that with Milly Hayes and Catherine Jennings, and with you.
I won’t let this go wrong again. I can’t.
Three women come through the door and Betty perks up for them. This must be the book club.
They talk in part about the book, and in part about local people and events.
I pretend to have an interest in all of it.
From the outside, I am doing very well. I’m sure Jack is watching now and thinking that I’m really taking to this.
I’m sure Betty is glad that I listened to what she had to say and that I’m giving these ladies a chance.
And yet, I cannot help that every beat of my heart comes with the prayer:
I could be yours forever.
I could be yours forever.
I could be yours forever.
I could be yours forever.
I could be yours forever.
Jack finishes a pint and throws a tea towel over his shoulder as though he owns the place.
Locking eyes with me, he tenses for a moment.
And then he eases off and clears a few glasses for the Doyle girl.
Back at the bar, she puts a hand on his shoulder and says something that makes him laugh. The cheek.