he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
So when he walked into The Diamond Bar and saw her immediately, her head thrown back in laughter, he felt his heartbeat quicken. She wasn’t dressed up to the nines that day – he reckoned she must work in one of the local shirt factories and had not long come from work. She sat in a group of friends, laughing loudly at some story they were telling. Her laugh travelled across the smoky air of the bar and he found himself staring, until he was nudged in the ribs by his friend Mike who told him to put his tongue back in.
“Get a grip on yourself, man,” Mike laughed, hauling him across the room to the bar and ordering him a pint of stout. “Is the Iceman melting? Which one is it has caught your eye?”
He felt protective of her – he didn’t want to say which one. He didn’t want his men ogling her. He didn’t want her to become a topic of gossip or speculation. If he told them, Mike would no doubt make her the object of his own attention and he didn’t want that. She seemed better than that.
“Shut up and drink your stout, Mike,” he said, noting that his voice sounded a little strange and strangulated. God, he hadn’t even spoken with her and she was already making him lose his senses. He couldn’t show his men any sign of weakness. They would never let him forget it. But still he couldn’t help but look across the room at the beautiful, mysterious girl and when he saw her get up from her seat and walk towards the bar, something in him shifted. He knew that he had to say something. That he didn’t really care what the men thought. That Mike might well make his life impossible for the next however-long, but it wouldn’t be as tough as it would be if he let her get away.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice strangely croaky again.
She turned, looked at him suspiciously, and he thought she would tell him to get lost. But then she smiled, that smile which he already knew he would never tire of seeing.
“If you’re offering,” she said, her lilting accent making him smile too. Her cheeks were rosy. He imagined she was perhaps a little tipsy.
He bought her a drink, and one for each of her friends and helped her carry them back to her table. They didn’t speak much. Just enough for her to tell him her name and that she worked in Tillies. While the work was hard, she said the “ craic ” was good. She didn’t imagine she would be back at the Base, she told him, and his heart sank. It sounded cheesy, he knew that, but even in the dark surroundings of the bar with its smoky corners he felt a strange light inside of him and he could barely draw his eyes away from her face as she spoke, her voice quiet, her accent lilting.
He knew, just as he had known he had to speak to her in the first instance, that he had to persuade her to come to the Base again.
“Maybe I could change your mind?” he offered.
She blinked back at him. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not one of those girls who goes for GIs. I only went to the Base because my sister wanted me to – and it wasn’t the nicest experience of my life.” She blushed.
He watched the colour in her face rise, the gentle pink flush her cheeks and he felt his own flush in return.
“I can promise you a nicer experience,” he said. “If you just trust me.”
* * *
Derry, June 2010
There were three missed calls from my mom on my cell. I say ‘missed’, but the truth was I hadn’t missed them. I just chose to let them go to my answering service. I felt bad every time. I never refused my mother’s calls – not even when I was sharing an intimate moment with Craig. If my cell rang and it was my mom then I would always answer it. But I, perhaps childishly, didn’t want to just now. I reasoned with myself that it was because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings even though I knew that she was being hurt by my not answering in the first place. It was a strange logic but it worked for me. I
So when he walked into The Diamond Bar and saw her immediately, her head thrown back in laughter, he felt his heartbeat quicken. She wasn’t dressed up to the nines that day – he reckoned she must work in one of the local shirt factories and had not long come from work. She sat in a group of friends, laughing loudly at some story they were telling. Her laugh travelled across the smoky air of the bar and he found himself staring, until he was nudged in the ribs by his friend Mike who told him to put his tongue back in.
“Get a grip on yourself, man,” Mike laughed, hauling him across the room to the bar and ordering him a pint of stout. “Is the Iceman melting? Which one is it has caught your eye?”
He felt protective of her – he didn’t want to say which one. He didn’t want his men ogling her. He didn’t want her to become a topic of gossip or speculation. If he told them, Mike would no doubt make her the object of his own attention and he didn’t want that. She seemed better than that.
“Shut up and drink your stout, Mike,” he said, noting that his voice sounded a little strange and strangulated. God, he hadn’t even spoken with her and she was already making him lose his senses. He couldn’t show his men any sign of weakness. They would never let him forget it. But still he couldn’t help but look across the room at the beautiful, mysterious girl and when he saw her get up from her seat and walk towards the bar, something in him shifted. He knew that he had to say something. That he didn’t really care what the men thought. That Mike might well make his life impossible for the next however-long, but it wouldn’t be as tough as it would be if he let her get away.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice strangely croaky again.
She turned, looked at him suspiciously, and he thought she would tell him to get lost. But then she smiled, that smile which he already knew he would never tire of seeing.
“If you’re offering,” she said, her lilting accent making him smile too. Her cheeks were rosy. He imagined she was perhaps a little tipsy.
He bought her a drink, and one for each of her friends and helped her carry them back to her table. They didn’t speak much. Just enough for her to tell him her name and that she worked in Tillies. While the work was hard, she said the “ craic ” was good. She didn’t imagine she would be back at the Base, she told him, and his heart sank. It sounded cheesy, he knew that, but even in the dark surroundings of the bar with its smoky corners he felt a strange light inside of him and he could barely draw his eyes away from her face as she spoke, her voice quiet, her accent lilting.
He knew, just as he had known he had to speak to her in the first instance, that he had to persuade her to come to the Base again.
“Maybe I could change your mind?” he offered.
She blinked back at him. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not one of those girls who goes for GIs. I only went to the Base because my sister wanted me to – and it wasn’t the nicest experience of my life.” She blushed.
He watched the colour in her face rise, the gentle pink flush her cheeks and he felt his own flush in return.
“I can promise you a nicer experience,” he said. “If you just trust me.”
* * *
Derry, June 2010
There were three missed calls from my mom on my cell. I say ‘missed’, but the truth was I hadn’t missed them. I just chose to let them go to my answering service. I felt bad every time. I never refused my mother’s calls – not even when I was sharing an intimate moment with Craig. If my cell rang and it was my mom then I would always answer it. But I, perhaps childishly, didn’t want to just now. I reasoned with myself that it was because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings even though I knew that she was being hurt by my not answering in the first place. It was a strange logic but it worked for me. I
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