Danny Boy Read Online Free Page B

Danny and oh without a doubt she longed to be with him, longed to be his wife, longed for fulfilment and to be loved with intensity, but it was a big step nonetheless, whereas for Danny, little was changing. He’d have a wife certainly, but he would still be living at his own house and with his family still around him. It wouldn’t be the same wrench for him at all.
    It wasn’t that Rosie disliked Danny’s parents or siblings and they’d gone out of their way to make her welcome in their home. It was just that she was nervous of leaving. Her home had never been a bed of roses and since Dermot’s birth, it had been liberally strewn with thorns, but it had been familiar and she knew she would miss her sisters greatly.
    Minnie didn’t help her daughter’s unease at all, when she spoke to her the night before the wedding. She chose to talk to her after her sisters and Dermot had made their way to bed and Seamus was doing one last round of the farm before turning in. ‘There are things about marriage that women don’t talk about,’ she began.
    There had been no lead up to the conversation. Rosie had stared at her mother slightly appalled and a little embarrassed. It was too late for this type of discussion.
    Evidently, Minnie didn’t realise this, for she went on. ‘You must let your man do as he pleases once you are married. It’s what you’ll promise to do before the priest and congregation tomorrow. You don’t have to enjoy what he does, most women don’t, but you must endure it. He may hurt you at first, this fine husband of yours, but even if he does, you must let him have his way, for this is what marriage is all about.’
    It seemed an eternity that Rosie sat before the dying fire that night after her mother’s words, looking into the turf settled into the grate with a hiss and lick of orange flame, while the wind gusted around the cottage, trepidation and fear of what was before her, driving away tiredness. And then, her father came in, the door torn from his grasp by the wind, so it slammed against the wall with a crash. He brought in with him the cold of the autumn night and Rosie, unable to sit any longer and make inane conversation, after the declaration her mother had made, took herself off to bed.

TWO
    The next day, Rosie awakened to a silent house. The morning was a dark one but the clock said it was half past seven and she knew her father would have been up a few hours or more, milking the cows. Guiltily, she pulled herself away from the warmth of her sisters curled up together, and began to dress.
    Her mother turned from the fire before which she was sitting as Rosie came in. ‘That was good timing,’ she said. ‘I was just about to call you.’ The plate she laid before Rosie almost took her breath away – there were rashers, an egg, fried tomatoes, potato cakes, white pudding and fried bread.
    Rosie couldn’t remember the last time her mother had cooked her breakfast, never mind a feast like this. ‘Mammy, this is marvellous.’
    ‘All brides should have a good breakfast on their wedding day,’ Minnie said. ‘Sets you up for the day and Lord knows when you’ll ever have one so good again.’
    ‘It’s like giving a condemned man one last request, the way you put it,’ Rosie complained, but with a smile. However, when her eyes met those of her mother’s and she saw her tight-lipped, an icy thread of apprehension trailed down her spine.
    It vanished at the church when she saw Danny waiting forher at the altar beside Shay Ferguson, his best man. She walked slowly down the familiar church on her father’s arm, her four bridesmaids coming behind, when really she wanted to fly into the arms of her beloved.
    The church was full of neighbours and friends of the young couple and Rosie heard feet shuffling in the pews and a few coughs or sniffs as women sat dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. She wanted to say, ‘Don’t cry, I’m happy, I’ve never been so happy.’
    But, of