The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne

Mrs Henry Rice looked at Bernard. ‘Are you going to eleven, Bernie?’

‘I’ll go to twelve,’ Bernard said, and the way he said it, Miss Hearne knew he had no intention of going at all. No wonder he talked like an atheist.

She and Mr Madden went upstairs to get their coats and hats. They met in the hall a few minutes later and he opened the front door for her, offering his arm as they went down the steps. She did not take it. It seemed just a little bit forward, the way he did it.

She was thinking of things to say as they went down Camden Street. Then she saw his dragging walk and all words left her. He has a bad leg, why did I never notice it? His walk, dragging his left leg, and that shoe is specially built. OmyGod, he’s a cripple!

At the corner of the street they came face to face with the reddish Gothic façade of Queen’s University. He looked up at it.

‘That Bernie. A college education, well they certainly didn’t teach him much.’

‘He is a little queer,’ she said tentatively.

‘Queer? He’s no queer, believe me. He’s just a no good mama’s boy, never did a day’s work in his life. Don’t let that poetry stuff fool you. That’s just a gimmick, so’s he can say he’s working. No, he’s got a cinch. Why should he work when May keeps him?’

He looked sideways at Miss Hearne. ‘You been to college? You seem like an educated woman.’

‘No, I’m afraid the Sacred Heart convent in Armagh is as far as I went,’ Miss Hearne said pridefully, because, after all, the Sacred Heart convent was the best in Ireland. The best families sent their girls there. Would he know that, being an American? ‘It’s considered the best convent, though,’ she added.

‘I never went to college. Had to get out and hustle for myself. I made out too, did fine.’

I wonder if he’s rich? Out walking on a Sunday morning with a strange man, what would Aunt D’Arcy have said? Still, he looks quite prosperous and respectable. That limp, you would hardly notice it. After all, I never noticed it before. All Americans have money, they say. I wonder what he did in the hotel, would it be rude to ask him?

‘And did you go into the hotel business right away, when you arrived in America?’

‘No.’

They walked in silence for a while. ‘Always had my own car,’ Mr Madden told the wind. ‘Always had my own car, even in the depression.’

She didn’t know quite what to reply to this, but something had to be said. ‘People earn a lot of money in America, don’t they?’

‘Some people. But it’s a young man’s country. They got no use for you when they figure you’re over the hill. Y’see, I always had it in mind to come back to Ireland when I was older. Maybe marry again and settle down.’

Miss Hearne felt something turn over in her breast. ‘And did your poor wife pass on long ago?’

‘The year we went over. She’s dead goin’ on thirty years. It was the crossing that killed her, the boats were different in those days. Had the baby about a week after we landed. Sheila, my girl.’

‘O, so you have a family then.’

‘Well, just the one. She’s married now. I was living with her and the husband before I come home. I figured I was in the way, lying up around the house after my accident. This leg, y’see. So I told them I’m goin’ back to Ireland, kids, I said. Back home.’

He’s lonely, thinking of his old age like that. But how odd that he would discuss his private affairs without really knowing her at all. It was like something in a story, people meeting, struck by a common rapport, a spark of kinship or love. Although that was silly and she was being daydreamy again.

‘I’m sure your daughter must miss you, all the same.’

‘Some chance. Kids nowadays don’t care.’

They crossed the street as the light flashed green. He took her arm as they stepped off the pavement. She did not reject his aid.

‘O, children of the present generation are awfully thoughtless. Even here in Ireland. Friends of mine, the O’Neills …’

‘Same thing here,’ he interrupted. ‘Come back to settle down and you can’t even get respect from the likes of Bernie.’

‘So you’re planning to stay here?’

‘Maybe. I got a couple of deals cooking. I might go to the West Indies, I hear there’s a lot of possibilities there. Depends. Or I might go into business in Dublin. If I had a partner.’

I wonder if he’s old? Over fifty certainly. Maybe younger. But big, well-preserved, a man full of life and vigour. Did he retire, I wonder, or was it the accident to his leg? They don’t retire early in the hotel trade, remember Mr Bunting that was the manager of the Arcady hotel in Dublin, seventy, if he was a day.

‘Did you have a lot of running about to do in your job? In hotel work, I mean? It must have been a terrible strain.’

‘No, it was okay.’ He did not elaborate. He did not speak again until they reached the church and then only to ask if she preferred to sit up at the front. They made the Sign of the Cross together and his fingers brushed against hers in the Holy Water font. Then they walked up the aisle and he stood aside to let her pass into the pew before him. The seat he had chosen was directly under the pulpit. Before he knelt down, Mr Madden took a clean white handkerchief out of his trousers pocket and spread it on the dusty board to protect the knees of his trousers. He found his large brown rosary, wrapped it around his knuckles, and placed himself in an attitude of prayer.

But he did not pray. He thought: I wonder would she tell it in confession? When May said she ran off to early Mass this morning, maybe it was to tell the priest on both of us, he could phone back to the house and raise hell, a child, May said, Christ, some child, I should have left her alone, none of my business. Pulled the blanket off her, he said. Ah, the priest couldn’t do a thing like that, secrets of the confessional. And she’s a scared kid, little roundheels, couldn’t have much religion, just ran out because she was scared to face me at breakfast. Ah, don’t worry, you’re okay, here in church with Miss Hearne, a fine woman, a lady, a pleasure to talk to her it is. But if she knew about me, Miss Hearne, if she knew about last night – ahh, I’m no good, drinking like that, pulling at that kid, but she was old enough though, what a build. Christ – I mean, Blessed Jesus Christ – why did I think that right in the church, an impure and filthy thought right in God’s house. O my God I am heartily sorry that I have offended Thee and because Thou are so good, I will not sin again. Not a mortal sin, no, I never, only tried to break it up, teach her a lesson, didn’t do a thing. Act of contrition, that’s absolution, couldn’t go to confession today anyway. Sunday, no confessions heard, if I die tonight, be in the state of grace. Say a rosary now, show my good intentions. Forget all that dirty thoughts stuff.

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