The won’t-hit-back type

Never mistake gentleness for weakness – a kind heart and calm exterior are signs of inner strength

Weary from posing for photographs with the newlyweds, Brendan was glad to finally get to the bar and order a pint. A sherry reception was all very well, but at times like this the best man needed a real drink.

“Hello, Bren,” said a soft voice. “When did you return?”

Even before he turned, he knew who it was. Darlene. His beloved Darlene of long ago.

Slowly, he turned on his heel and came face to face with her. A shower of emotions descended on him. Confusion. Excitement. Embarrassment. Mostly shame. He gave her a half-smile, unsure of how to greet her. How do you greet an ex-lover you haven’t seen in three years? He decided to brazen it out.

“Darleeng,” he said, using his pet name for her, “how lovely to see you here! I didn’t know you knew the O’connors. Or the Mccrorys.”

“I don’t know either family,” she said. “I’m just someone’s Plus One today.”

How typical it was of her to bear him no animosity. He was relieved to know she hadn’t changed. Thankfully, he had changed. What better time to prove it to her than now?

“I want to… er… explain… I behaved like a…” She put a finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s not important any more, Bren. Water under the bridge. Tell me, how have you been? More importantly, where have you been?”

His face flamed at the last question. But he reminded himself he had decided to brazen it out. So he told her of his wonderful new life in England. He hoped his voice didn’t betray any regrets at having left Ireland. Deep down he had been lonely. For Dublin, for his mates… and for Darlene.

“Sounds wonderful. But tell me, when do you find time for romance?”

Rather haltingly – nay, sheepishly – he told her of the series of short-term romances. No one held his interest for very long. Again, he hoped she wouldn’t notice the hint of regret in his voice.

“Maybe you haven’t met your soulmate yet.” “Oh, but I did find my soulmate once and I was foolish enough to let her go,” he replied.

Not wishing to enter painful territory, she changed the subject quickly. “I’m afraid my own life hasn’t been as exciting as yours.

I’m still with the same firm. New department, though. And I still prefer holidays in Galway and Donegal to more exotic resorts.

“Oh, and I’m moving into a house of my own soon. It’s being decorated at the moment.”

He cringed at the news, remembering the house they nearly bought together. Before he did his disappearing act. It was his turn to change the subject quickly.

“And what about your love life? Is there no one special?”

Part of him hoped the answer was no.

She gave him her gentle, enigmatic smile. “You know me, easy come, easy go.”

She probably didn’t trust anyone enough to let him get close to her. But she had trusted him once and he saw this as a chance to salvage what he was so incredibly stupid to throw away. A sudden panic gripped him.

“Darlene, please give me a chance to explain. I can’t let you go without telling you. I’ve lived with regret for the last three years. We could try again if you could forget the past. Please, Darlene, I beg you.”

She looked pensive for a moment, eyes downcast so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. His relief knew no bounds when she whispered, “Alright, Bren, let’s clear the air.

But a wedding is no place to dig up the past. Why don’t we meet tomorrow?”

“Good! Great! Where? When?”

“Tomorrow. Same place. Same time.”

They both laughed to think they still automatically thought of their favourite haunt. Their pub, The Bailey, was halfway between their offices and they used to meet there at the same time every Friday – 5.50pm, straight after work.

She didn’t tell him she had avoided it for the last three years. She had so missed the folk they used to meet there. But she’d have no answers for them, had they asked where Brendan was. Later, when word had spread, she couldn’t face their pity.

“Thanks, Darleeng,” he was emboldened enough to be familiar again, “I’ll be there. Same drink?” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. She nodded and smiled, before turning away to mingle with the other guests.

Driving to The Bailey the next day, he felt the same glow he always felt when waiting to meet Darlene. His soft, gentle Darlene. He always viewed her gentleness as weakness. But now he knew better. Ambitious, grasping women were not for him. He had discovered that in recent years.

What a fool he had been to think Darlene would hold him back in his career! To believe that he needed a glossy and ambitious female by his side who would sparkle, entertain and claw her way up the social ladder with him. How wrong he’d been.

He tried to think of what he was going to say. “Darlene, I had to slip away without you knowing or you would’ve tried to stop me.” No, that didn’t sound right. She would never stop him from doing anything. She wasn’t assertive enough.

“Darlene, I know I was a coward, sneaking out of the country without so much as a goodbye. But you see, I had this wonderful offer in London and I didn’t think you’d want to come with me.” No, that didn’t ring true either. He had no intention of asking her to accompany him. He wanted a tough and motivated new partner by his side. Darlene was too placid and compliant.

“Darlene, I didn’t think we were right for each other. I was too ambitious and you were too soft. The won’t-hit-back type just wasn’t the sort of wife I needed.” Wrong again. He had since realised she was exactly the type of wife he needed. Supportive and encouraging. He was going to make it up to her today.

As he eased into his parking space, he knew he was going to ask her to marry him. If she forgave him, that is. Well, it looked like she had forgiven him already. She had agreed to meet him, despite everything, hadn’t she? Maybe there was something to be said for the won’t-hit-back type after all.

Entering the dimly lit pub, he made his way to the bar. Casting a quick eye round the room, he was glad there were so few people. A lone male drinker at the far end of the bar and a couple of office girls at a table by the door. He sat on a stool at the bar, placing himself so as to watch the entrance.

The barmaid sauntered over to take his order. Same drink, he thought, with a smile. A glass of red wine for Darlene. Just one glass of alcohol all evening. Maybe a mineral water after that if she were pressed to have another. He ordered their drinks and then sat back and let the delicious thought of spending the rest of his life with Darlene wash over him.

He spied her entering the pub. She stood, silhouetted against the doorway, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness within. He quickly looked away, playing the mischievous game they always played, pretending no to see each other.

Ah! She’d spotted him. He kept up the pretence of not seeing her but watched her movements from the corner of his eye.

Darlene entered the room and hesitated. She’s pretending she hasn’t seen me, he thought. She’s playing our game! She smiled as she approached the bar. Slowly, he rose to meet her.

But she passed him by, heading straight for the other drinker.

“Sweetheart!” exclaimed the drinker. “I thought you were never coming.”

Then, kissing her gently on the nose, he put his arm around her and led her out into the bright evening sunshine again.