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…he had deceived her into believing that he knew all about sex, had told her of the exquisite pleasure it would bring and then inflicted on her the most excruciating pain she had ever suffered. She had suffered ever since, not physically but psychologically, not pain so much as anguish, the unbearable anguish of knowing that she could never have the man she loved, nor care for him, nor bear his children. And all because of her hasty stupidity, her fear of scandal, her desire not to draw upon herself any further infamy than that of being the reputed bastard daughter of a priest, nor any further disrepute than that of being the Devil-marked grandchild of the heathen Finn MacLir. At the time she did not believe she could have borne any further smear upon her character, anything that would have lowered her even more, if such were possible, in the hard, critical opinion of the people in the village, anything that might have cost her her job as assistant teacher. Now she would gladly bear it all, and much, much worse, if she could only free herself from this loathsome marriage to Liam Dooley and marry Joe Carney.
That night, as on many nights before, she cried herself to sleep in the dead, depressing hours on the black, abyssal side of midnight. But that night was different from all the others in a way she did not know of at the time. That night she had conceived a child.
When the fact of her pregnancy became known, Liam desisted from his once-a-month demand upon her body. Even had he not done so voluntarily from his own concern or ignorance, Nora would have used her new condition to refuse him access to her. He did not know that he was being punished, that he was the victim of a form of vengeance that was really no vengeance at all because he was unaware of it. He showed Nora every consideration, even to the point of taking time off from his books and researches in order to sit by the fire and read to her while her agile fingers plied with expertise her sewing or darning or knitting needles. After the nine o’clock news on the wireless and cups of warm milk, she would usually go to bed, leaving Liam to return gladly to his interminable studies. She would not see him again until the light of morning opened her eyes, and she would find him in her bed.
‘We can’t go on living here, Liam,’ Nora said one evening. ‘This place is too small as it is and with a baby coming it will be impossible.’
‘I know that, Nora,’ Liam agreed, ‘and I have taken care of it. We shall be moving during the Christmas break. Second of January, I should think.’
‘But why haven’t you told me this before now?’
‘It kept slipping my mind.’
Libros Libertad 