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Authors: Marita Conlon-McKenna

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BOOK: Promised Land
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‘If we’re going to swim, we should dip in now before we eat,’ Alex suggested.

Blushing, she watched as Mac and the rest of the fellahs pulled off their shirts and shorts and slacks to reveal their swimming trunks underneath.

‘Are you coming in, Ella?’ Margaret asked.

Ella thanked the Lord for Kitty’s foresight in making her buy a flattering two-piece swimsuit from Lennon’s. After changing down below she was greeted with a chorus of wolf whistles from Mac and Alex when she and Margaret stepped up on deck.

The water was cold, much colder than expected, and she gasped with fright as soon as she jumped in. The Irish Sea felt freezing even in late May, but she was a strong swimmer and once she got used to the temperature loved the freedom of swimming in the sea.

Mac swam along beside her. They swam together, further and further from the others who were duck-diving under the water.

‘You look beautiful, Ella.’

She trod water as he swam up in front of her touching her lips with his. They kissed each other, breath after breath together. He tasted of salt water and she licked it from his eyelashes and nose and cheeks. She clung to him as he ran his hands down the length of her body, the two of them drifting together.

‘I love you,’ he said simply, as the waves undulated around them, pulling them closer and closer. Skin against skin, limb against limb.

‘I love you too,’ she admitted, glad that the words were finally spoken as they made love for the first time, the ease and naturalness of it surprising her. They could have stayed there for ever, the sun sparkling on the water, except that Ella began to feel the cold.

‘Come on love, we’d better get back onboard, else the others will be wondering what happened to us.’

Mac helped her to climb back in up the ladder, and Ella wrapped herself in a large towel to try and warm up. Margaret had laid out the food on deck and they were all too busy eating to pay them the slightest attention. Helping herself to a mug of hot soup, she got a fit of the giggles watching Mac stuff himself with a ham sandwich.

The rest of the afternoon they sat and sunbathed; Ella felt much too cold to swim again. On the journey homewards she snuggled up in his arms, never wanting this perfect day to end.

‘You tired, Ella?’

She nodded, yawning. It must be all the fresh air.

‘I think it’s time you were in bed,’ he whispered in her ear.

An hour later they were back at the flat and she invited him in, thankful that Kitty would not be back for hours at the very least.

Chapter Twenty-two

ELLA WAS MADLY
and passionately in love, her relationship with Mac growing stronger by the day. She loved the way he touched her and held her in his arms and wanted to be with her all the time. She had a permanent smile on her face and both Leo and Neil had commented on it.

‘What has that Mac fellow got that makes you look so happy?’ Leo teased.

‘She’s in love, Leo!’ Neil added.

She was most definitely in love and loved. Mac was a good lover, experienced where she was not, and once she got over her shyness and feelings of guilt she longed for the opportunity for them to be alone together.

Kitty was tactful enough and tried to make sure they had some time on their own in the flat. Her cousin and boyfriend got on really well together and she was glad that all her girlfriends liked and trusted him so much.

‘He’s a million times nicer than that rat Patrick,’
confided
Gretta, ‘to tell the truth Ella none of us were really gone on him. We all thought he was rather shifty what with all that working at weekends and travelling away!’

Gretta was doing a strong line with one of the hospital interns, a strapping six-foot five-inch doctor called Brendan Casey. They both worked such long hours and appalling shifts that they rarely got to see each other.

‘Probably just as well since I’m breaking my rules,’ worried Gretta, who always declared medical students were only for fun and flirting and nothing serious. Their flatmate had a theory that all medical students loved dating and falling madly and passionately in love with the nurses who stuck by them through exams and repeats but the minute they qualified usually went off and married somebody else.

‘But Bren is qualified,’ argued Kitty, ‘and doctors always want to settle down and have huge families.’

‘We’ll see about that!’ Gretta answered cryptically.

Ella wondered what the future held for herself and Mac. He had a good secure job with the bank and had been told he would likely be promoted in the coming year, and she was blissfully happy working with Leo. There was nothing to stop them settling down in time and living happily ever after.

‘He’s a Protestant,’ Kitty reminded her.

She was annoyed with Kitty. She refrained from
making
disparaging comments about her cousin’s various boyfriends, and flirtations, and double-dating, so why did Kitty have to go and say things about Mac?

‘I thought you liked Mac!’ challenged Ella.

‘I do, I adore him Ella, but it’s just that he’s a Protestant and you’re a Catholic, that’s all.’

Ella didn’t know what her cousin was trying to imply. She was a Catholic and went to Mass almost every Sunday, though of late she had refrained from taking Holy Communion, as she couldn’t bring herself to enter the confessional box in Clarendon Street and tell some priest about herself and Mac. She didn’t believe she was committing a sin by letting her future husband make love to her.

Mac himself rarely went to church and did not seem particularly religious, teasing her when she blessed herself passing a church or stopped to say the angelus at midday.

Religion was not and would not be a problem. When the time came she knew that Mac would do the right thing, even if that meant agreeing to raise their children as Catholic.

Bangor 1957

Chapter Twenty-three

MAC INVITED HER
to go to the North for the weekend to meet his parents. They’d been going out now for over nine months and both knew that things were becoming more and more serious. At work, at home in the flat, in bed alone at night, Ella couldn’t stop herself thinking about him. Morning, noon and night he filled her thoughts and Mac told her that he felt the same about her. He had gone home for a week at Christmas but otherwise had seen very little of his family, staying in Dublin most weekends to be with her.

Ella knew that Mac was the type who never rushed into things and that his invitation meant a big step with regard to their relationship. She felt almost sick with nerves at the thought of actually meeting his mother and father and brother and sisters. What if they didn’t like her or approve of her?

Kitty couldn’t believe it when she heard about the following weekend’s arrangements.

‘My God, Ella, are you mad going up North and meeting that crowd, ’tis like a martyr going into the lion’s den. You’re cracked, so you are!’

‘Lion’s den!’

‘Aye, going up North and meeting his mother and family. It’s very different up there compared to here, you know that. Their Proddy son with a Catholic girl! You must be a brave woman.’

‘Shut up, Kitty! Don’t even say such things. Mac’s not a bit like that, you know he isn’t. Religion never comes into it, never!’

Ella brushed off any negative comments. She was only going to meet Mac’s parents and if they were even half as nice as Mac, they’d be all right. What the hell was Kitty going on about? Honest to God you’d think she was jealous.

Mac had given her very little indication as to what a weekend in his home town of Bangor would entail but she had managed to persuade Kitty and Terri to lend her some clothes. Two blouses, a polka-dot skirt, a fine knitted cardigan, and Terri’s beautiful fitted pale grey trousers with the leather belt, she’d packed them all in the small weekend case. Leo had been very accommodating and at her request given her Saturday off although it was one of their busiest days in the shop. He had not asked her for a reason or demanded any conditions. He respected her privacy and she in turn respected his. As an employee there was a strict demarcation line that she would not cross with her employer, and she knew Leo also felt that.

‘Neil will just have to come in and help. You are entitled to a day off if you really need it Ella, you know that.’

Mac had collected her at the flat at seven o’clock that Friday evening and she felt nervous as she climbed into the baby Austin. Mac had to concentrate on the roads as they left Dublin behind and got on the road to Drogheda. Ella tried to pump him for information, realizing suddenly how little she knew about his family. He usually said very little about them, perhaps because she avoided talk of her brother and father, but still he could hardly expect her to arrive in Bangor with almost no knowledge of them.

‘Tell me about your sisters.’

‘Well, Heather is fourteen and goes to the local grammar school. Hilary has just started working in the Civil Service, the education department. She’s a right brain box so she is. Heather’s one of those mad-on-ponies-and-animals-type girls, you know, the sort that says she wants to be a vet.’

She could feel her stomach churning with nerves at the thought of sitting around the table with all the people he cared about. What would they think of her!

‘What about your mam and dad?’ she pleaded.

Mac looked puzzled. ‘They’re married thirty years, and still seem happy. They’re a great pair, Ella. I know that you’ll like them.’

‘And what did you tell them about me?’

‘I told them that you are the beautiful country girl who has stolen my heart,’ he joked, squeezing her hand, ‘and that I’m mad about you.’

‘Did you tell them that I’m Catholic?’

He didn’t answer for a second and she knew by the way he tightened his mouth and jaw that he hadn’t.

‘For God’s sake Mac, why didn’t you tell them?’

‘It doesn’t matter, Ella, it won’t matter at all.’

Judging by his expression, she guessed that it would matter, matter an awful lot, and that he just wouldn’t admit it.

They drove up through Drogheda and Dundalk and Newry, the border towns, the shops shut and offices closed as people minding their own business settled down home for the night. As they crossed over the border itself, neat fields and hedges edged the roadside and she wondered if it was good land, rich land. The cattle looked well fed and there seemed to be ample grazing. Following the main road to Belfast they passed fields of flax and barley, Ella noticing the straight cut of the fields and the lack of ‘weeds and wildness’ as her father used to call it. The farmers up north were hard workers judging by the turn of their farmland and outhouses and buildings, for there was a marked order to things.

‘We’ll soon be there,’ reassured Mac, running the palm of his hand and his fingers across her
thigh
enticingly, Ella wishing he’d stop the car and make love to her and forget all about the visit.

Mac drove into a neat row of red-bricked detached houses, one the same as another, with front lawns and short driveways and garages. They were shaped in a crescent, and his parents’ house sat plum in the middle of them all, the number nailed to the gate pillar.

‘Here we are!’ shouted Mac, all excited, jumping out of the car.

Joyce McNeill greeted them with open arms, hugging her eldest son in welcome. Ella hung back, unsure of what to say or do.

‘Mummy, this is Ella, Ella Kennedy.’

‘Aye, the girl you were telling us about. You’re very welcome, dear. Is this your first time to visit the North?’

‘Yes, actually it is.’ They shook hands, eyeing each other up and down.

‘Will you come in the two of you and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea. Peter, did you eat before you left or would you like me to fix you something?’

‘We ate in Dublin, Mum, so don’t be fussing, just sit down and relax.’

Joyce ran her fingers through her permed grey hair. She was tall and thin with bright green eyes and Ella thought that Mac looked vaguely like her. She smiled to herself; sometimes she forgot that Peter John was his actual name as nobody ever called him anything but ‘Mac’.

The sitting-room door opened and Ella was aware of two blond heads and two girls throwing themselves at Mac.

‘You’re home! Why didn’t Mummy tell us,’ complained the younger one, turning her pretty face into a pouting mask.

‘Heather, I want you to meet my girlfriend Ella.’

His two sisters suddenly turned their attention on her. Ella sat looking at them trying to appear nice and friendly and warm. She wanted them to get a good impression of her. They both introduced themselves and she could see they were the image of their mother; Hilary’s eyes were the exact shade of green.

Heather sat beside her on the rose-patterned couch asking about where she had met Peter, and how long they had been going out. Ella felt unsure of what to say or do in case it was the wrong thing.

‘Don’t be so rude Heather, you’re just embarrasing Ella.’

Joyce disappeared into the kitchen, and Ella glanced around the drawing room, which was filled with pictures of the family. An antique cabinet held a dainty tea service and on the sideboard a large silver try held an assortment of shining silverware.

Mac’s mother emerged a few minutes later with a tray with a pot of tea and two servings of tasty Welsh rarebit. Ella could spot the pieces of chopped ham mixed in with the cheese and wondered what to do. Friday was fasting day
and
she was meant to eat no meat, but perhaps Joyce would be offended or embarrassed if she left it behind. Mac seemed to have no idea of her dilemma and was busy eating his own. She moved it around her plate with the knife and fork. However in the end hunger got the better of her and without a word she ate every bit of it.

‘Please forgive my husband, Ella,’ Joyce said, ‘but he is at a lodge meeting and won’t be home for an hour or so. You know how men get caught up in these things.’

Ella nodded and stifled a yawn. She could tell that Joyce was anxious to talk to Mac on her own and have some time with her son. About twenty minutes later she made her excuses and disappeared off to bed leaving the two of them together.

BOOK: Promised Land
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