There had been tension in the house since Breda started going out with William. Weekends were the worst; since that was the time the young couple were able to see each other. There was Ned and Mary and their three adult daughters all living at home.
Ned scraped his boots cursorily at the back door; a regulation imposed since Mary had the new tiles laid. He hung his silage-scented work coat in the back porch, took off his cap and pushed in the door to the kitchen. A fug of warm air, tinged with the smell of rashers frying, caught his breath.
‘You’re late.’ Mary said expecting him to account for the fact.
‘The boss was away all afternoon and I had to feed the calves on my own.’
‘Breda wasn’t in Dublin at all at the weekend. She was up North with that fella’ again.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I found the return train ticket in her coat pocket.’
Ned made no comment. He and Mary had hoped that Breda’s relationship with William would run its course, but it didn’t look as if it would. They had been going together now for the best part of a year, and the only thing Mary and Ned knew about him was that he was a Northern Protestant. Although Ned had worked nearly thirty years for a Protestant farmer for whom he had a great respect and loyalty, it was a different matter when his youngest daughter might marry one, especially a Northern one.
Ned wasn’t enamoured of the idea, but he wasn’t as dead against it as Mary was. He had to express his disfavour to keep on the right side of his wife. He sat to the cooker and took up the paper. Though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Breda was his favourite daughter. He couldn’t concentrate to read, put down the paper and said to Mary:
‘Why don’t we ask her to bring him home one weekend? As long as she knows we don’t approve she’ll stay with him. If he comes here it’s a good chance it’ll put him off, a Northern Prod in the heart of Catholic Ireland.’
‘God she’s terrible stubborn.’
‘Begod she is’ thought Ned to himself, ‘I wonder where she got that from?’
Mary went on: ‘I suppose if she’s going to stay with him we’ll have to meet him sooner or later, and inviting him down might knock the contrariness out of her, and it might cure him too and if it doesn’t we’ve nothing to lose.’
Breda’s relationship with William was not a problem for Lena and Peg, her two older sisters. In fact they conspired with her and spoke up for her to keep the peace in the house. They couldn’t have cared less what William’s religion was so long as he was a decent fella’ and he made Breda happy.
When Breda came in from work the next evening Mary made herself scarce and when Ned and she were alone together in the kitchen Ned broached the subject.
‘Why don’t you invite that fella’ of yours from the North down here some weekend?’ There was a long silence, and then Breda replied:
‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I’m serious. Why would I say a thing like that if I wasn’t serious? There was another silence.
‘Me Ma’d never agree.’
‘She will agree. You’re long enough around this house to know I wouldn’t make a suggestion like that without discussing it with your Ma.’
‘And she agrees?’
‘She does indeed.’
‘And if I brought William down here would she be civil to him?’
‘Of course she’d be civil to him. Now I wouldn’t say she’d be all over him, for you know this difference in religion is a big thing with your mother. It wouldn’t be as hard for her to accept if he was a local Protestant but a Northern one is a different kettle of fish.’
‘William is a lovely fella’ and his family are lovely people. When I go up there they make me welcome.’
‘Well we’ll do the same for him when he comes down here.’
‘Da, his name is William, you could call him by his name.’
‘We’ll make William welcome in this house,’ Ned amended.
Breda arranged that two weeks later William would come for the week-end. She was delighted but nervous and William tried to put her at her ease. He too was pleased with the development and saw it as the next step on the road to their getting engaged.
‘Of course your mother and father aren’t over the moon. We live in a terrible bloody country where all that religion stuff comes before people’s happiness, but we’ve agreed we’re not going to let it get in our way.’
As the day approached Lena and Peg, who weren’t afraid to cross their mother if necessary, painted the picture and Lena laid it on the line to her.
‘William will be a guest in our house and you are to make him welcome, and not just by saying so. We will all be warm and friendly and make him feel at ease and not only for Breda’s sake, but because it’s the right thing to do. And for God’s sake stay off religion,’ and with a hint of humour to lighten things, she added, ‘and whatever you do don’t mention the Pope!’ Ned grinned.
As the day approached there was some nervousness all round. When the car arrived into the yard from the station Ned went out; Mary stayed inside.
‘Daddy, this is William.’
‘You’re very welcome to our house,’ Ned said, as he put out his hand.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Neill,’ William replied in his strong Northern accent and with his warm smile. Inside in the kitchen Breda repeated the introduction:
‘Mammy, this is William.’ William went straight over to the cooker where Mary was standing:
‘I’m pleased to meet you Mrs Neill.’
‘You must be hungry,’ Mary said, ‘sit to the table and we’ll have something to eat.
The six sat to the kitchen table on which Mary had put a cloth for the occasion. There was small talk about the weather and the journey down. Since Breda hadn’t been able to talk to her parents about William she had talked to her sisters who knew a good deal about him.
‘Have you been at sea since you left school?’ Peg asked. William smiled:
‘If you could call the Scotland ferry being at sea, I have. I’m home most nights. The sea is in my blood. My father and grandfather were both deep sea, but that’s no life for a family. I’m happy the way I am.’ Breda smiled across the table at William. Then there was a silence that Breda broke.
‘William’s Daddy was killed in an accident at sea.’
‘God love you,’ Mary said, crossing herself.
‘How long ago is that?’ Lena asked.
‘Three years ago.’
‘Well I’m sure your mammy is glad you’re not going to sea,’ Mary said.
‘He is at sea,’ Breda came in defensively, ‘but he only goes to Scotland and back.’
Next morning Ned brought William up to the farm to see the cattle that were in the shed for the winter. William was wearing the blue suit that he had worn the previous evening to present the right image to Breda’s parents. The cattle were at the silage face. Their breath was condensing on the frosty air and there was a heavy smell of silage and slurry. William in his city suit looked, to say the least, incongruous. He picked his way up the shed towards the cattle stepping carefully over straw and dung in his polished Cuban-heeled boots. He said something that Ned couldn’t understand and so absorbed was Ned in the thought that he had never seen somebody so out of place in his life, he didn’t respond. None the less he admired the young man’s enthusiasm in agreeing to come to see the cattle. William didn’t comment on the smell that must have been stifling for him, nor did he utter a regret that he hadn’t taken up Ned’s offer of wellington boots before they left the house.
As they approached the silage face Ned picked up the word ‘cows’ in something William said and found himself explaining to him the whole of the milk and beef systems from bulls through cows, bullocks, heifers and calves. William with his open face and broad smile listened attentively and nodded as though he understood every word.
On Sunday morning Mary and Ned went to Mass while the three girls and William went for a walk. The last thing in the world that would have occurred to William was to find out and attend the local Protestant Church. Lena and Peg liked their sister’s boyfriend and they hoped that their mother’s reserve towards him was not making him feel uncomfortable. Sunday lunch was relaxed with some tentative jokes about North and South. After lunch Lena drove William and Breda to the station and as she waited for Breda to come back from the platform she felt a great relief that over the weekend nobody had said anything untoward.
After William’s first visit to Breda’s family he and Breda each paid weekend visits to the family of the other, and after about six months they decided they wanted to get engaged. William insisted that they should say nothing to any one, not even Lena and Peg, until he had asked Ned for Breda’s hand in marriage. On the Saturday morning of a visit South Ned informed William that, as the boss was away, he was going up to the farm to look at the cattle, and would he like to continue his agricultural education. This was just the kind of opportunity that William was hoping for. As they crossed the field at the back of the house William decided to ask the big question.
‘Mr Neill, I want to ask you a question.’
‘Go on try me, I’ve been a lifetime at this farming, but I don’t know everything.’
‘It’s nothing to do with farming,’ and William came straight out with it. ‘I want to ask you for Breda’s hand in marriage.’ Ned stopped and looked straight ahead. There was a long silence, such that William’s heart sank. Eventually Ned spoke.
‘Well merciful hour, I thought that those days were gone. I thought that young people, these days, made up their minds and then told their parents, whether they liked it or not. Thank God there’s still a bit of old fashioned decency left in the world. I suppose she knows you’re going to ask?’
‘She does.’
‘And I suppose if it’s OK with me it’s OK with her?’
‘It is.’
‘Well William, it’s like this: it’s OK with me, but the question is,’ Ned said turning to William with an impish grin, ‘which of us is going to tell her mother?’ William didn’t quite know how to respond to this, and Ned continued, ‘don’t worry, son, I’ll look after that.’
When they got back to the house, while Ned was taking off his boots in the back porch, William went into the kitchen. Breda knew from his smile that things had gone well. She took William’s hand and led him down to the sittingroom and closed over the door.
She hugged him tightly and said:
‘That’s the first hurdle over,’ but the next one is bigger.’
‘Don’t worry,’ William said, ‘your father is going to look after it with your mother.’
‘It won’t be as easy as that, but since he’s made up his mind she’ll agree under protest.’
‘That’ll be good enough for us. That’s all we need.’
‘She’ll insist that we get married in the Catholic Church.’
‘We’ve known that all along,’ William said, ‘and that’s OK with me, and if we can get the local Protestant minister to take part it’ll make it easier for my mother.’
Mary did agree, but took the good out of it by showing no enthusiasm, and this prevented Ned from expressing openly his happiness for his youngest daughter. Lena and Peg made up for it. They were delighted and showed it. They both hugged William, and Lena danced around the kitchen with Breda while Mary turned her back and worked away at the cooker. In two weeks William and Breda made their engagement public and began to make plans for the wedding.
The day arrived and there was good contingent of William’s family and friends down form the North. The parish priest was more than helpful to the young couple and the local Protestant minister was happy to take part. Lena and Peg kept an eye on arrangements to be sure that there would be no awkwardness from the religious and cultural differences. They were glad that custom had it that it was the bride’s father that spoke at the reception and not her mother. None the less the sisters, in order to leave nothing to chance, composed and wrote out Ned’s speech, and put him on pain of his life to stick to it word for word.
The service went well, but in the circumstances it was impossible that some differences would not be noticed. The main one that a stranger might observe was that for the hymns one side of the church sang lustily while the other side stood mute. Outside Lena and Peg, the two bridesmaids were pleased; so far so good.
The next difference that became immediately noticeable was when the wedding party arrived at the hotel. Most of the bride’s family and friends made straight for the bar while most of the guests of the groom went into the lounge and ordered tea. Lena and Peg, with William’s help, had planned carefully the seating arrangements for the meal, mixing both sets of guests as best they could, but being careful to put likely-to-mix- well with likely-to-mix-well and keeping unlikely people apart.
The meal was good, and when it was over, Ian, William’s best man, read the cards and to Lena and Peg’s relief there was no vulgarity or even smut. And then he said:
‘I now call on Mr Neill to propose the toast to the bride and groom.’ Ned, looking every bit the part in his brand new suit, stood up, speech in hand, and went to take his glasses from his top pocket. They weren’t there. He tried his two side pockets. They weren’t there either. He tried his inside pocket, his trouser pockets and even his back pocket. No glasses. He opened the speech, held it away from him the full length of his arm. He squinted, drew it back and held it out again, then he held it up and, suspiciously unperturbed, he began:
‘I have here the speech that Lena and Peg helped me to write, but since I’ve forgotten my glasses I’ll have to do without it,’ and he put the piece of paper in his pocket. Lena and Peg froze. Ned went on:
‘The first thing I want to say is this: William has been coming down to our house now for over a year. He’s a bright and happy young man, always in good form and ready for a joke and bit of fun.’ Lena and Peg relaxed. Ned continued:
‘We love to see William coming, but the fact of the matter, whether you like it or not, is that there’s a problem.’ Ned paused. Then continued: ‘No matter how hard Mary and I try we can’t get over this problem.’ Lena put her hands to her head. A wave of nausea coursed through Peg’s stomach. Ned continued:
‘Now this may not be a problem for some of Breda’s family and friends, but it’s a problem for her mother and for myself. You see, the thing is....’ and Ned paused again. ‘…neither of us can understand the half he says.’