In Exile by Billy O'Callaghan

Author:Billy O'Callaghan [O'Callaghan, Billy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Europe, Ireland, History, Short Stories (Single Author), Fiction, Short Stories, In Too Deep, Billy O'Callaghan, O'Callaghan Bily
ISBN: 9781856355988
Publisher: Mercier Press
Published: 2008-09-14T23:00:00+00:00

The Wedding Day

The air in Crowley’s Bar & Lounge had an intimidating thickness. A wet November Saturday with evening coming in fast, the few gathered guests stood or sat in pockets, chatting in hushed voices so that the conversations wouldn’t carry, stopping only to drag at rolled-up cigarettes or to swallow from their glasses. Murphy’s for the men, the bulk of the stout broken up by the odd drop of Paddy; sherry for the mothers of the bride and groom; snowballs for the bride and the bridesmaid. The wedding reception was two hours old and had already lost its edge, but they had all been here for wakes too. Celebration or sadness, the atmosphere in Crowley’s was always the same.

Snowballs had a way of making Lucy want to cry. She sat with Fiona, her sister, at a table in the centre of the floor and spoke in whispers, keeping her head down. Her eyes studied a peeling beer mat and its spongy dampness was so alluring that she kept wanting to touch it. When she did, the wedding ring looked out of place on her finger, too thick and ugly. Her hands were ugly too, made that way from handling raw meat all week long.

Old Gould, her boss, hadn’t wanted to give her the time off for a honeymoon, but then Father O’Leary stopped by and had a word with him and after that everything was okay. Old Gould even called to the church for the service. The butcher shop closed from one to two, so he had the hour to spare. He came up to them at the end of the service, kissed her dryly on the cheek and shook Kevin’s hand. ‘I hope ye’ll be very happy together,’ he said, then he had a few words with her father and Kevin’s father and hurried away to re­open the shop. He had already given her a wedding present, a pound note folded in with her usual wages. Which, everyone agreed, was very decent of him.

A spurt of laughter rose from the end of the bar, where the fathers of the bride and groom were sitting. John Joe Feehan was a big man, and Kevin was like him in looks, especially around the mouth. They both had the same pinched way of considering things. It made them appear slow where actually they were only cautious. Now that pinched mouth was swallowing a large draught of stout. The paraffin lamp was set at John Joe’s elbow and its cast glow made the sweat shine yellow as it traced rivulets down across his bald temples. When he lowered the glass he smiled, a little embarrassed. The bellow of laughter had been his; Lucy’s father, Dan, never laughed out loud. It was not his way, even though he had a violent wit. There was no doubt that he had drawn the laughter from the other man, some joke that he’d picked up or a sharp observation shared about someone they both knew.

Lucy watched

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