The First Time I Said Goodbye (33 page)

There was an air of life about the Hegarty household again. Stella no longer felt she had to tell the younger boys to keep it down. They weren’t afraid to laugh any more, or have the odd squabble. They no longer felt they had to speak in hushed tones or wander about in a state of enforced mourning. That’s not to say they, any of them, missed Ernest any less. There were still nights when Stella would hear her mother cry herself to sleep and there were nights when she would creep in beside her and cry with her – pretending, she was ashamed to admit to herself, she was weeping for her father when she was in fact weeping for the love she had lost herself.

But for the most part, with the passing of that first awful year of horrible anniversaries and missed family moments, and the arrival of an untainted spring and then summer, laughter and hope was seeping into every corner of the Hegarty household.

Stella lacquered her hair and slipped on a pair of lace gloves. Then she called to her mother to come in and took hold of her sister’s hand.

“Here we go, Dolores. No going back now, girl!”

Kathleen entered the room, her eyes bright with emotion.

“I have promised myself, and your father’s memory, that I am not going to cry today,” she said. “There have been too many tears in this house of late and today is a happy day. The first of our children to get married – I’m not sure I ever thought this day would really come. That I would see my children grown and round me.” She faltered a little before taking her daughters’ hands in her own. “My gorgeous girls, I am so utterly proud of you and proud of the women you have become. You are a credit to yourselves and to us. Your father and I could not have asked for better. My darling Dolores, you look so beautiful. I wish for you everything I had – a man who loves you, and I believe your lovely Hugh does, years of happiness and a family who will look after you when you need them.”

She turned to look at Stella then and while both their eyes were filled with tears there was no need for words. What could be said? Stella didn’t want to let the thought of how it should have been her who was married first cross her mind. She didn’t want to think of how she’d had a man who loved her and could have offered her years of happiness and a family who could look after her, and she had thrown it away for the sake of this family who needed her so desperately.

“I love you, Mammy,” Dolores said. “But we better get a move on if we’re to get to the chapel on time. I want the whole street to see me looking as gorgeous as this. The girls will be so jealous of this dress. Imagine no one else in Derry having the same dress yet! Me, one of a kind?”

With that same characteristic childish giddiness, Dolores Hegarty led the way from the room to the wolf whistles of her brothers who were waiting in their Sunday best to walk their sister up the street to the Long Tower for her wedding.

“Behave yourselves, boys!” Stella and Kathleen chimed almost in unison before laughing and holding hands.

No, this would be a great day out for the Hegartys and nothing was going to take away from it.

The ceremony was simple and Dolores beamed throughout it, enjoying every moment. Stella smiled as best she could and Kathleen managed to keep composed as Peter and not Ernest walked her daughter up the aisle.

They retired afterwards to the backroom of a local bar where a spread of tea and sandwiches had been set out and where a piano in the corner would help lead the sing-song later in the day.

The sun was bright and it was warm and, as Stella sat and nursed her cup of tea in the corner, she tried to ignore any pitying looks which came her way. At various intervals she would be asked out for a quick dance by one of her uncles or urged to lead a sing-song but she never was one for singing and was happy to sit back and watch the day unfold around her.

When Mrs Murphy took a seat beside her she knew she was in for all the latest gossip and their neighbour’s take on the day.

“She looks lovely, doesn’t she?” the older woman began.

“Yes, Mrs Murphy. She does, a real beauty.”

“I mean the dress, well, I might have gone for something a bit longer if it was me but I suppose you young ones have to have your style, don’t you?”

Stella nodded.

“It’s nice to enjoy a happy occasion for a change,” her neighbour continued. “Always nice to put the past behind you and move onto a nice new future.”

“Yes,” Stella said absently. “It’s been a bit of a blessing for us all to have something positive to focus on.”

“Do you think it might be you one day?” Mrs Murphy asked over the top of her spectacles, her lips pursed in a perfect ‘o’ as she sipped from her teacup – pinky pointed outwards.

“I wouldn’t be holding out any hopes for that,” Stella replied, not particularly liking where her neighbour was taking this conversation.

“Never say never. You know, you coming out the other side of the grief for your father, maybe it is time you came out the other side of the grief for your young man as well.”

Stella bit softly on her lip and took a deep breath. It had been a lovely day, although not without its sadness, and she wanted it to remain that way but the manner in which Mrs Murphy spoke made her bristle. If it were as simple as putting her grief for her young man behind her she would have done so. If he had, as everyone believed, been the one to break her heart she was sure she could perhaps see some sense in what her neighbour was saying but, being blind to the full facts, Mrs Murphy just managed to stir up feelings that Stella would rather stay buried.

“Mrs Murphy,” she said, softly and quietly, looking directly ahead, “just because we are smiling and singing today, that does not mean we have got over the loss of my father or come out of the other side of our grief. Each day will be hard – and there will be hurdles to be crossed. We are just learning to manage. We are learning to make the most of a horrible situation in which we would not find ourselves able to move if we thought too much about our loss. Please understand – for me, my feelings are the same about my young man. No, I don’t see this,” she gestured to the bride and groom laughing with each other, “in my future and nor do I want to see it. I do not deserve this. I do not deserve the happiness they have. So, Mrs Murphy, as much as you have been an invaluable help and support to my family over the last number of years and more, when it comes to matters of my own heart – understand that you know nothing.”

Mrs Murphy hunched her shoulders and sat her saucer and teacup on her lap.

“Stella, pet. I’ve been around long enough to know more than you give me credit for. Whatever it was happened with your young man – whatever sacrifices you made for the sake of your family and whatever stories you told to cover them up – you need to realise that this is your life and yours alone. Perhaps I was guilty of pushing you when your mother needed you – but I knew you were the one person she could rely on. The pain of losing your daddy will never leave her but, as you say, she is learning to manage and with each day she is managing more. God knows those men in your house even seem to be getting their act together. All I’m saying, it is time you put yourself first, just for a bit, to see what happens. Everyone, Stella, deserves to be happy. Even those of us who feel we don’t.”

She reached over and gave Stella’s hand a gentle squeeze then lifted her saucer and teacup and moved on to the next table where she would hold court with someone else.

By evening, young Seán had tired himself out and was asleep on his sister’s lap. She thought of how he had behaved so well that day, helping the grown-ups by fetching their drinks and offering sandwiches round. “Daddy would want me to be a big boy,” he had said, his gappy smile now more filled in with teeth that looked that little bit too big for his head. He had even slept in his own bed the night before, leaving Stella alone for the first night in months. She held him in her arms as he slept and kissed his head, thinking about what Mrs Murphy had said. As she held him she watched Peter sing along with her mother, whose head was thrown back in laughter while Dolores kissed her new husband.

Maybe her neighbour was right – maybe it was time to start thinking about her own life. It wouldn’t make her a bad person, would it? She was entitled to a happy ending. She closed her eyes and thought of Ray, imagined for a moment that he was here. That it was she in the wedding dress and him leading her around the dance floor, cheek to cheek. She could almost hear the drawl of his accent, smell his cigarette smoke. She could almost, if she concentrated really hard, remember what it was like to be with him – to be in the flat. God, that seemed like such a long time ago. It seemed so foolish – so unreal. Playing houses together – none of it real life, all of it a fantasy. But she wanted it, she wanted it so badly. She wanted so much to be with him. All she had to do was tell him the truth – tell him that although she had lied she had been trying to protect him. Tell him that her thoughts had been for him – and how she wanted him to be happy and to move on without her. She wondered should she dare ask him for a second chance. Sitting there, she wondered did she even deserve a second chance?

But it was worth trying.

So that night, when the house was quiet, thoughts of the great day they’d had dancing in their heads, she wrote the first letter. She told him she was sorry. She told him her father had died and she’d had to stay in Derry. She told him just how she had to break his heart and that she hoped it was not broken enough that he wouldn’t even consider forgiving her. She told him she had been scared – scared of what would become of her family if she left them.

She poured everything out on her notepaper – her loss and longing and most of all her love. She relived every moment of their time together and told him no one had made her feel the way he had and that no one ever could.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go. I did. I wanted to go with all my heart but I suppose in many ways I was a coward in the end. It was too much. There isn’t a day that has passed where I haven’t missed you,”
she wrote.

The letter was posted at the Post Office two weeks later, when she had stared at it, re-read it time and time again, discussed it until she could think no more about it with Molly and realised just how much her heart ached and always would ache for Ray. With it went her hopes and dreams. She took a deep breath and hoped that the Ray she loved would read it, understand and love her back. She hoped against hope that he would believe her. He had to.

“You have a quare spring in your step this morning,” her mother said as she walked back into the house, slipped on her apron and set about helping with the chores.

“Do I?” she asked with a smile.

“You do indeed, pet, and if you don’t mind me saying so, it’s great to see. Not sure when I last saw you look contented.”

Stella hugged her mother and kissed her on the cheek as she opened the sack of potatoes and started peeling them in preparation for their evening meal.

“I am contented, Mammy, or at least I think will be. Does that make sense?”

“It does, pet. I know things have been tough for you lately.”

“They’ve been tough for us all.”

“But you took on the biggest burden. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know I wasn’t much use to man nor beast in those early days but I know what you did for me, pet. I know how you kept things running until I was fit to do it myself.”

“It was nothing,” Stella fibbed, knowing full well it was everything and knowing just how much she had done.

“No, it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t nothing at all. You had your heart broken too – that man of yours leaving you like that. You didn’t lie down under it – you kept going and you kept us all going with you. Her mother dried her hands on her apron and pulled her daughter into a hug. “I love you, Stella Hegarty, and all I hope for you now is that you find the contentment you so deserve.”

Stella allowed herself to sink into her mother’s embrace. “Me too, Mammy.”

The women worked amiably together through the day, Stella biting back the urge to tell her mother of her hopes and dreams and the truth of what had happened with Ray. She would tell her when the letter came back from him – when he wrote to tell her he still loved her and that he still had a home waiting for them in America. Telling her mother beforehand – letting her know how she had thrown away her love for the sake of her family would only make Kathleen feel wretched with guilt. No, when it was all sorted she would break the news and, if Kathleen was honest about wanting contentment for her daughter, she would understand why she needed to go to America and why she needed to be with the man she loved. Until then she could go on believing in her daughter’s broken heart.

* * *

Derry, August 1961

Molly and Stella walked back from the factory together. It had been a long day and the summer sun was still warm, too warm. Stella’s hair was sticky with sweat and she was dreaming of changing into a light cotton dress and maybe having a wash to freshen up. Her feet ached and she wanted to kick off her shoes and wander around the house barefoot with the coolness of the oil cloth under foot easing the ache.

As they walked into Stella’s street, Seán came running at her for a hug and she lifted him into her arms, enveloping him in a warm hug before he accompanied her towards the house, holding her hand and rattling on about the day he had just had.

“Mammy said there’s a letter for you,” he said solemnly. “She was cross about it – in bad form altogether.”