Author's Note: Welcome to chapter 6! Hope you all enjoy.
Casting her eyes around the lounge from where she was curled up on the sofa with a pair of socks in her lap, Margaret could have wept at the piles of mending she still needed to get through. It seemed a good idea at the time, telling her husband that she would do some mending for those in town to help bring a little extra money in, but she could see now that she rushed into it without considering all the extra work it would make for her. No longer did she have the time to put her feet up throughout the day, not now that she had all this mending to do on top of all her usual household jobs, and she was so tired. Some days, she didn't even have time to eat.
It wouldn't do for her to go back on her word and fail to meet deadlines though, as Ciarán had pointed out to her, because it would give her a bad name which would then give him one and he refused to let her embarrass him. It hurt when he said such things to her because the only reason she was doing this was for him, so some support would be nice, but at the same time she could tell the thought of what could happen worried him and she guessed it made sense. Maybe she could speak to him later on though and ask if, once she had worked her way through what she had left, she could suspend her work for the time being just so she could rest up a little.
She wouldn't have to go back on any promises she made to people and she could focus on her health.
He wouldn't have a problem with her doing things that way, she doubted.
Just as she was about to go back to darning the socks in her lap, she felt another slight flutter and chuckled as she set her needle down for a moment so she could lay a hand on her belly. It would be a while before she felt any real kicks or movements from the little life tucked away inside her, the doctor told her as much, but these sensations – these wonderful, tiny butterflies she got – were happening more and more often these days and it was already leading her to the conclusion that her wee one was going to be lively and have such a personality. "I have no idea what's gotten into you today, but you're not helping your mammy to concentrate." She smiled.
It was truly as though the baby couldn't have cared less about that when one more flutter came along.
"Oh, very funny," She tutted, smirking as she shook her head. "Come, settle down now and let me get on."
It took some time, but once she'd started darning again the sensations gradually became more infrequent until they ceased and she sighed with contentment. Regardless of the fact it was still early days in the grand scheme of things, she found she was already growing more and more impatient to meet her little one as time went on. It was thrilling to her, the thought of getting to hold it in her arms and see what it looked like after all of this. It would no doubt be a challenge and test her abilities, those early days with a newborn, even more so should Ciarán still want no part in the whole thing when the time came around, but she was sure she would manage.
Her parents brought her up well and even though money was hard to come by for the two of them, they never let her go without even if that meant they were the ones that had to. She could remember them going without food some nights so she could eat and she could remember her father working the most dreadful hours just to keep a roof over their heads. Luckily for her, her husband had a steady job which meant they had quite a good income. Neither of them would have to starve so their child could eat like her parents had to, but if ever a day came where she had no choice but to do so then she would, readily. Her child's needs would come before hers.
When the sound of the back door opening and closing after a time caught her attention, she pushed the needle in her hand into the pincushion and set the socks down again before her husband walked in and looked at the piles of clothing and blankets around the room. "I left you doing this almost two hours ago and you've hardly made a dent," He told her when he caught her eye. "I told that friend of yours, Mrs…Mrs Woulfe, I think her name was, that you would have her things done by this evening when I saw her. Have you even started them?"
"No, because she only gave them to me yesterday and I told her that there are still one or two people ahead of her on my list," Was her response as her brows began to knit together. "I can only go so fast, Ciarán, I'm one person and I am doing my best with my one pair of hands. I can't get three loads done in one day, I'm sorry."
"You probably should have thought about that before you made all those promises." He muttered.
"I made promises that I intend to see through," She told him. "I can't help getting tired though, not with my current condition and all I have to do on top of this. In fact, that was something I was planning on talking to you about. I was wondering if you would agree to let me take a break once I'm done with all of these. I don't mean a long one, I was thinking a week or maybe two if needed. I just…I don't have enough time to just rest."
"And you think I do?" He asked. "I have to work twelve hour shifts down a tiny mine with my bad back."
She sighed. "I don't want this to turn into an argument because neither one of us wins whenever that happens. You work hard, I know that, harder than I do by far and that's something I have never questioned or doubted. I know that my needing a break must seem stupid to you and you must wonder how it can tire me out, sitting here all day with a needle and thread, but that's not all I have to do. I have to make time to clean up the place and cook and go into town for things we need and that's what wears me out because it's a lot for one person."
"If you don't want to do this anymore, that's your choice seeing as though you were the one to come up with the idea," He shook his head. "But, in the future, don't tell me you want to help unless you truly mean it."
"But, Ciarán, I…"
He refused to give her time to explain herself, turning around and making his way from the lounge before she actually had the time to open her mouth, and when she was alone again she pushed a hand through her curls in exasperation. She wanted to be upset with him for the way he spoke to her, but how could she be when he had the right? It was her idea to do this to keep him from spending so much time down the mines. It was her idea to help him and now, all because she was feeling weary, she wanted to stop which would mean him going back down there. It would bother her too, she imagined, if he said he wanted to help and then simply gave up.
No, she was just going to have to push through it for a little while longer.
After all, it was the very least she could do.
Her husband's arms winding around her waist from behind was what pulled her from her thoughts when she was stood in the kitchen later that day, chopping up some vegetables for their dinner, and she looked over her shoulder at him when he pulled her back against him. "I thought we might go out to the public house for our dinner tonight," He told her, reaching up to move her hair behind her ear. "Save you cooking for us for once."
"I'm not sure, Ciarán, I'm almost done with the vegetables now." She shook her head as she got back to work.
He sighed. "Look, if this is because of what I said to you earlier on, you know I didn't mean any of it the way it sounded. You should know better than to take my words to heart now, Mags, how long have we been wed?"
"Is that your idea of an excuse? You should be able to say what you like to me, critical or not, and I shouldn't let it hurt me because I 'should know better than to take it to heart' as you put it?" Came her displeased reply.
"I am trying to make amends here."
"I just don't appreciate being spoken to in such a way when the only reason I'm doing all of that is for you."
"You're right, I should have been more grateful," He hummed. "So, let me take you out to make it up to you."
She thought for a minute. "And what am I meant to do with all this?"
"It'll keep until tomorrow," He replied. "If it'll get you to agree, I don't mind Aoibheann and Riordan joining."
"But you told me the other day you're not too fond of her and her mouth." She reminded him bluntly.
"I can put up with her for one evening if it would please you," He gave her a smile. "So, what do you think?"
"Oh, all right, but we're not staying there all night and I don't want you to complain at me when I'm ready to come home," She said, turning around to face him so that his arms fell from around her waist. "I want you to watch your drink too. Your habit has gotten so much better and I don't want you ruining all your hard work."
He held his hands up. "One beer, maybe two. Riordan is a terrible influence, but that's why I have you."
"Something tells me the pair of you are terrible influences on each other, to be honest." She admitted.
"Mmm, maybe we are," He chuckled before stroking her face. "I'm just pleased you've agreed to come out."
"I am too, but please don't make me regret it." She plead gently.
"No, you won't…" He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You won't regret it one bit."
"Goodness me, it's packed in here tonight." Margaret said to the table at the public house that night.
"Old Maguire got his fourth lad this afternoon, so he's celebrating." Riordan chuckled, having a swig of beer.
"I think that's the understatement of the year!" She laughed.
From where she was sitting next to her husband, Aoibheann gave her friend a smile before casting a glance at Ciarán and noticing the way he was looking at her. It was clear he was on edge. He was in no doubt that she could see right through this pathetic little act he was putting on, that he might have been able to fool Margaret into thinking he changed but not her, and she was delighted she was capable of making him this anxious. That lovely lass across the table was worth ten of him, twenty even, but she couldn't see it and it would be pointless to try and knock some sense into her because she was wholly under his control. It was like she was his puppet.
He controlled what she did and what she said and she just couldn't break free from him.
"I think we need another round," Riordan tapped the table, pulling her from her thoughts. "Love?"
"Another cider for me." She gave him a smile while moving her glass towards him.
"I'll come with you this time," Margaret told him, taking her and her husband's glasses. "It'll be easier then."
Aoibheann watched her move her chair back and get to her feet before she and Riordan left the table and went over to the bar. It was seconds later when Ciarán moved chairs, settling himself in his wife's so he was directly across from her, and she refused to let him intimidate her when he looked her in the eye and gave her a glare. "It might work on that poor lass, but you can bet your life it isn't going to work on me," She almost growled. "I can see right through you and you know that which is why you haven't said more than two words all night. An act, that's all this is, the act of a scared little man who knows the woman he married is stronger than him."
"You shut up." He told her.
"No, the only man who can give me an order is my husband and, luckily, that wasn't you last I checked," She shook her head. "I can tell you what I think of you and I can tell you how it is because I'm not putting nearly as much on the line by doing so as she would be. I won't be whacked for my opinion because my husband, as fond as he is of you, would kill you without a second thought for putting your hands on me and you know it. I can speak my mind because I won't be threatened to such a degree I feel I have to leave my home just to get away with my life. You do not deserve that girl and she is worth ten of you, her and that beautiful little wain."
He cleared his throat. "Ah, but you see, she doesn't share your opinion."
"Is it any wonder when she's been made to spend the past six years, almost, stuck with you?" She asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "It hurts me to remember what she was like when you brought her here because it makes me feel I'm remembering someone who's no longer with us. I never once saw her without a smile on her face, but these days I'm lucky to see her with one. You took that sweet girl who's only crime was to adore you and you broke her down into this…this…honestly, I don't even know what to call her because I don't even think I can refer to her as a person anymore. I see a shell when I look at her, that's seriously it, and that's all on you."
"If you actually cared about her, you would have told her about my 'act' long before now."
"I am the only person in this world who cares about her, I will have you know, and I have tried to do so."
"I gather it didn't go too well, then?" He pouted. "She loves me and you won't change that."
She shook her head. "Oh, loving someone and depending on them purely to survive are two separate things…"
"I have a little tip for you, Aoibh," He leaned over the table. "You keep out of this before you get hurt."
"Is that a threat?"
"No, believe me, it's a promise."
It was then that, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her husband and Margaret making their way back to the table with their drinks in hand and she gave her husband a smile when he sat down at her side once more. It came as no surprise to her that he noticed her mood had changed in the time it took for him to return – he truly had the ability to read her like a book, he always had – and when he laid a hand on her thigh under the table she laid her hand over his. "I'm all right," She soothed, shaking her head. "I'm just tired and missing the girls, so would you mind if we drink these and then head home? Or I can leave and you can stay for a while."
"You're not walking all that way in the dark alone," He told her. "I'm ready to leave when you are, okay?"
"Okay, thank you." She nodded before he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and picked up his pint of beer.
From across the table, Margaret also noticed the shift in her friend's demeanour and looked up at her husband. "Is she all right? Did something happen while Riordan and I were fetching our drinks?" She asked him quietly.
"No, something must have just come over her all of a sudden," He lied. "She and I had quite a nice talk."
"About…?"
"About you," He reached out to put an arm around her. "If there's one thing we have in common, it's you."
His words made her smile before she reached for her cider and brought it to her lips, taking a slow sip as she cast her gaze across the table at Aoibheann once again. She gave her a smile as she did so, one she took as an attempt to reassure her that all was okay, but she could tell by her eyes that something was going on with her.
Trouble was, she just couldn't work out what.
"I haven't seen you so quiet in a long time."
"Sorry, I don't mean to be. I…I just can't stop thinking about Aoibh, it's still bothering me."
Pulling back the covers for his wife when she rose from her dressing table after sorting her hair and wandered over to the bed, Ciarán watched her climb in next to him before she leaned against the headboard. "If there is anything that woman likes then it's attention," He said. "I promise you, Mags, that's all that would have been."
"No, I'm not so sure," She shook her head in response. "She seemed really troubled about something."
He was quiet for a time before he sighed and turned to look at her properly, setting his book down in his lap. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything because the last thing I wanted to do was upset you, but I think I might have a feeling what it could have been," He admitted when she looked him in the eye. "It has to do with you."
"Me?" Her eyes widened. "But why would she be upset because of me? What did I do?"
"You shut her down when she told you to be careful around me the other week, she told me about the chat the two of you had over tea," He said to her. "It sounded to me like she honestly didn't appreciate your doing so."
"I had the right." She frowned, bristling slightly with frustration.
He hummed in agreement. "You had every right because this is our marriage. She's the one in the wrong."
"Well, I don't appreciate her talking to you about this and not to me," She said. "We could have sorted this."
"At least you know what kind of a friend she is now. One that goes behind your back." He stroked her arm.
Her heart sank. "No, I…I can't help feeling there's a little more to it than that."
"Sometimes, Mags, you have to face facts. She thinks you're foolish for giving me another chance."
"Does she? Well, I don't because you remained true to your word and I see now that I was right to do so."
Moving closer to her on the bed, he smiled. "You mean that?"
"I do," She assured him, brushing his hair from his face. "You proved yourself to me just like you promised."
He was quiet for a time, merely looking at her. "I love you, you know that?"
"I…I think I do, yes," She nodded, moving further down beneath the covers. "I…I love you too, Ciarán."
"Truly?"
"Truly…"
Author's Note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I would love to hear what you thought with a review if you have the time and I will see you all soon.
