Other than a trip to a store to pick up more food supplies, we elected to spend some time laying low. Liam wanted the events of our first press foray to die down and we both found ourselves wanting to give another more immediate desire some much anticipated attention.
Much like the first couple days I spent in his American house, we decided that having sex in nearly every room to be a right of passage that had to happen. I was surprised it took us so long to get back to that point, but once we did, it was as if the world and it's problems no longer existed.
In one of my rare moments of alone time, I moved a small writing table close to the picture window in the living room and watched him clear some weeds away from the gate in the stone wall behind the house. Seeing him in such a romantic setting conjured up all kinds of conflicted feelings.
I reached a point where I completely understood why he'd be so careful about revealing his past with strangers, especially when you consider the great quality of life he managed to make for himself in America.
Yet, I was still a little uneasy. Not because I didn't want to be thrust head first into his whole life, past and present, but because I wondered if and when my profession was going to jump up and bite us both in the ass.
The next morning, we rose early to have breakfast with his mother before she left for work. Doing so was a duty more than a choice. After seeing several reports on television, she kept calling the house, insisting he move back to her place so she could 'protect' him.
Allowing her to cook us breakfast was the next best thing.
"What on earth would ya be headin' up ta Belfast for?" His mother asked me, astonished.
"For a story I'm working on. We-"
She abruptly cut me off. "He goin' with ya?"
"Uh, yes he is."
She clucked, shaking her head while tossing me a suspicious sort of glance. I was relieved when she finally turned her attention back to the frying eggs. For a tiny woman, she sure knew how to put the fear of God in someone. I was afraid of opening my mouth again in case I offended her, but did it anyway. I had to find a way to reach some common ground with her.
"Is there something I can do to help ease the situation with him? I mean, it was his idea to go, but..."
She didn't answer the question at all. "I don't like it. What's so bleedin' important 'bout goin up there now? Jayses, the train even."
"Mam, quit worryin', it'll be fine," Liam said, entering the kitchen. "We're not stayin' up there anyway. Just in an out."
He sat at the table and popped a small breakfast sausage in his mouth.
In true mother fashion, she waggled the spatula at him. " Don't tell me not ta worry. I know better. And I want ya to ring me the minute yer back."
He got up, pushed the utensil aside and gave her a smooch. "The sausages are lovely. Any more of 'em?" He leaned against her, peeking at the stove over her shoulder. She instantly warmed, nudging him playfully.
I admired how easily he could disarm her.
It was his idea to take the train to Belfast. I was prepared to do the driving, but he insisted it would be more fun to take the train so we could relax and enjoy the sights together. The decision to risk a public mode of transportation smacked a little of rebellion on his part, but it was still fun picking out the brown wig he would sport for the adventure.
We sat in the rear of the train and for the first half of the two hour journey. There weren't more than a handful of people sharing our car. As the train made it's way North along the rugged coastline, the scenery grew stunningly beautiful and I was thankful for so many empty seats. It gave me the opportunity to jump around and take photos from both sides of the train.
Liam watched me with gentle amusement as I hopped from seat to seat. He narrated a good deal of the sights we passed, but I kept interrupting him to get up and take more photos. He seized that opportunity to take a break from being a tour guide and relaxed with a newspaper.
We stopped at a station and I decided to use the idle time to pull out a special note given to me by Roisin.
She gave it to me in private one night, just before I left for Boston. I shared with her that I'd be working on a follow-up feature that would include my experiences visiting some of the sites they mentioned in the first story. She told me the note included some addresses in Belfast that I would need to do that. She never mentioned anything about a personal note she'd also included.
Annie,
I wanted to wish you a wonderful journey. I'll be anxious to talk about it when you get back.
Since you're going to Belfast, I wanted to ask a favor. Would you mind calling around to my sister's house to pick up a parcel for me? It's no bother if you can't do it, but I'd be grateful if you could.
Also, you mentioned wanting to go to some of the spots I told you about, so I took the liberty to include that info with this note.
And Annie, I know there will be some changes. Don't worry. Just remember that the man standing beside you is, and always will be, the same eejit we all know and love.
All the best,
Roisin.
"Oh wow," I said.
Liam dog-eared one side of the paper and peered at me over it. "What?"
"Roisin's note. It just dawned on me what she meant."
"About?"
"Read it." I handed him the note.
He read it and gave it back.
"I didn't get it before. I thought she meant more general, like us finding our way with each other."
"Ahh, yeah. I talked ta her 'bout it before we left. She gave out ta me fer not tellin' ya sooner."
"Gave out what?"
"No, Luv. Givin' out is like givin' me a hard time. She wanted me ta tell ya sooner."
"Oh. Ha. I can't disagree with that. How did you meet her anyway?"
"Through friends at the pub. Sorta helped her out when she first came over."
"Ah."
"Got her set up with stuff."
I nodded. "Did she know who you were then?"
"She did, yeah. But ya know her. I don't think it made much difference. Least that's how I felt, so was easy ta wanna help her."
The train lurched as it pulled out of the station and we both went back to watching the scenery race by out the window.
We finally arrived at the platform in Belfast and had no trouble getting a taxi to take us to the Falls Road area of town. It wasn't at all what I was expecting.
It was worse.
Depending on which part of town you were in, the slogans painted on the side of buildings were either be pro-British or pro-Irish. The British had barrack installations all over the city and it was obvious by the damage to some of the buildings in town, they weren't afraid to use military force.
People milled about on their way about their business like any other city in the world, but in some of the rougher areas, you could sense their guard by the way they carried themselves. And it was no small wonder why. Armed British soldiers dressed in camouflage, moved around furtively in organized teams. Just seeing it scared the shit out of me and I was only visiting. I couldn't imagine living with it as an everyday thing.
We asked the driver to take us to the address listed on the note for Roisin's sister and instructed him to wait while we rang the bell. Within seconds, a gentle spoken woman dressed in a coat and carrying a set of keys greeted us.
"Ahh, there ye are," she said, as if she knew us. "Roisin mentioned yer callin' by."
"Sorry fer not ringin' first, but don't let us hold ye up," Liam said.
"Tis me who's sorry, Mr. Murphy. Would luv ta offer ye tea."
"It's Liam, please," he smiled. "An no trouble a'tall."
I nodded, agreeing with Liam. "Would you prefer we come back?"
"No, no, ye came all this way. Let me get the parcel fer ya." She disappeared into the darkened hallway and returned holding a small brown package. "I'm so sorry we can't have a chat. I woulda love to hear all yer plans. But I do wish ye both the best."
We took turns posing for pictures with her by the front door, gave her our number in Dublin and hopped back in our taxi.
"What is it?" I asked, spying the package Liam was holding.
"No clue. There's a note though."
He pulled the card taped to the top of the package and opened it. "Ahh, say's ta open it. A gift from Roisin, I guess."
We tucked it in his knapsack to save opening it for a more private time.
It only took a couple of hours to go to the three addresses Roisin suggested. The first was her former home. We had the driver wait while we jumped out to photograph the house and the neighborhood. She didn't have family there any longer, but I thought she might like to see the changes.
The second stop was her brother's place. It was the site of the horrible tragedy that killed her brother when he was gunned down by British soldiers. Much like Roisin's old neighborhood, it was quite a rough looking area, so we didn't linger. But there was a long moment when a lump caught in my throat looking down at the sidewalk. I couldn't get the image of a boy crying over the dead body of his uncle out of my mind.
The last of the three stops was her favorite pub. She mentioned they had the best cottage pie in the country and since it was considered a Republican bar, she insisted we stop and check it out. I had no idea what Republican meant in that context. Liam explained that it referred to the Republic of Ireland, and therefore was a pro-Irish establishment. I didn't have to understand all the politics to know that anything pro-Irish would be something I'd naturally side with, so I was happy to spend my money in that pub before going back to the train depot.
We took a quiet table in a corner and Liam very deliberately sat with his back to the room. I giggled at the sight of him scratching his head through the wig.
"That would drive me nuts."
"Aye, it's worse than a hat. It's itchy as hell. But whatever it takes, I suppose."
"So c'mon, let's open the package. What do you think it is?"
"No bleedin' clue. Knowin' her it could be anythin'."
He pulled it out of the knapsack and tore off the brown wrapping, tossing it aside. He carefully pried open the lid of a small white box and retrieved two items, both wrapped in tissue paper. One had Liam's name on it and the other had mine.
He handed me mine with a smile. "Open yers first."
"It's like Christmas," I giggled, ripping the tissue off. It was a tiny blue box partially wrapped by a handwritten note. I opened it and found a beautifully delicate silver locket on a chain. "Oh how thoughtful, it's gorgeous," I said, turning my attention to the note.
Dearest Annie,
I know you must be a very special person for Roisin to instruct the passing of this locket. It belonged to generations of women on my mother's side of the family and has been given in turn to each of my sisters on the event of their engagement.
It is believed to be a token of good fortune and should be worn or carried from the day of engagement until the third day of your union. Upon wearing, it is to be graced with an item belonging to both you and your betrothed and once fitted, it is not to be reopened until after the time for wearing has passed.
It may be removed from your possession without consequence, but never for more than one rise and fall of the sun.
All the women in our family have performed the ritual and have received the benefits of long and prosperous marriages. Since there are no additional female children to be of benefit, Roisin has asked for it to be passed to you and kindly requests for it to be returned once your blessing is received.
I wish you love, happiness and all the good fortune of a long and joyful union.
All the best,
Mary Dillon (nee Maguire)
He watched me with curiosity. When I finished reading the card he extended his hand, wanting to read it. I froze. The shock of Roisin suggesting marriage was almost greater than that of Liam requesting to read about it.
"I-uh...I have no idea why she'd...well, here," I said, handing him the card.
The smile that appeared on his face as he read, was almost mischievous. He finished and extended it over the table. "Leave it to that auld bat ta do somethin' like this."
"I'm almost afraid for you to open yours."
He chuckled, tearing the tissue paper apart. When he first got a look at his gift, he raise a single eyebrow before a quiet laugh bubbled out of him. He held up the contents for me to see. I had no idea what was funny about a plastic bag with what looked like a lump of something black surrounded by salt or sugar.
"What the hell?"
"It's meant ta be a good luck charm. What an eejit she is."
"I don't get it," I said, inspecting the bag more closely. "Is that sugar?"
"No, it's salt and coal. It's a custom. Salt signifies always having food on yer table and coal is meant fer always havin' warmth in yer house."
"That's beautiful, but I don't get it."
Liam grinned. "It's somethin' ya get fer a new house. I hope you know that I didn't-"
"No," I said raising my hand to stop him. "This is all her. Don't worry, I get it."
Still, somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered what he said to her that she felt comfortable enough to give us such a hard shove. It was really awkward, but even my steeliest resolve couldn't keep me from admitting to myself that I sort of liked it.