Ireland Romance Ch. 04

For those who came in late:

Blue Gill a computer programmer from Wisconsin, is looking after a castle in Ireland for her former lover Brendan McPherson. She is fascinated by a painting she sees of ancient Irish King and warrior Cuchulainen. She is feeling rather lonely all by herself in the castle when suddenly there is a knock at the door. It is a rather decrepit Aussie who has just had an accident on his motor bike.

“You’d better go in and wash up. There’s a bathroom up stairs.”

“Thanks ....you’re a real mate. Can I put what’s left of my bike somewhere? It’s a bit of a mess....”

He pointed just along the driveway, and Blue could just perceive a dark shape that looked like a motor bike.

“Just bring it up here and put it in the porch. Not many thieves around here I should think”

“They’d have a hard job driving this away anyhow....” The front wheel of the bike was so badly buckled that it had to be dragged bodily up the drive, gouging tracks in the gravel as it did so.

“Jesus, it is a mess.”

The guy grinned ruefully. “Oh well it could have been a lot worse. Real lucky to have found this place.. Thanks. Oh name’s Morrice by the way. But me mates call me Comp. Muck around a bit with computers when I’m at home which isn’t often.”

“Well I’m Marybeth. My friends call me Blue. Maurice eh? I was thinking about a Frenchman.”

No it’s not really a Froggy name. It’s spelt the English way with an “orice”. Named after me uncle. He’s got a farm out at Shepparton.”

Morrice saw the frown. “It’s a town in Victoria.”

He paused again. “Australia.”

“Yeah I got the accent Comp.”

“Been to Oz have ya Blue?”

“Not yet.”

“Just thought with a name like that.. and your reddish hair and all...”

“No I’m Blue cause that’s the colour of me Irish eyes” Blue put on a theatrical Irish accent and grinned.

“But you’re from US though. Not an Irish accent....(though I agree about those smiling Irish eyes.)” and his smile of genuine admiration looked pretty good on him thought Blue.

“Uh huh. Wisconsin. What do you mean anyway about reddish hair..?

“No in Aus. all redheads are called Blue. Not many redheads in Australia. Pity cause I’m sort of partial to red-headed shielas.”- and again the ambiguous grin that vacillated between shy and confident.

“Go on upstairs and clean up. Have a COLD shower while you’re about it.” But blue was secretly pleased at the effect she was having on this stranger. Morrice made his way up the stairs still smirking.

Blue went back to the dining room and sat down. She was quite hungry, not having eaten since early lunch and now it was almost 8:00 PM. But she didn’t start to eat yet.

The meal had been laid out on the large wooden sideboard at the head of the table. It seemed to have been prepared by someone who thought that one lady could eat the daily rations of a whole army. There were both slices of chicken and ham, a copious bowl of green salad and of course the ubiquitous potato salad. Downstairs on the AGA Blue had notice an urn of boiling water....but there didn’t seem to be any real coffee anywhere in the house. Oh Well couldn’t have everything.

She looked at the food and decided that she would invite Morrice to join her. In fact she’d probably have to put him up for the night. She could hardly send him packing with his bike unable to be driven. A slight tinge of anticipation crept through her at the thought. “Watch it Marybeth,” she told herself, “Your glands are directing your brain again....”

By herself in the large room she noticed how quiet everything was. She could hear the faint breath of the wind as it sloughed around the castle’s turrets and the eternal thumping of the Atlantic waves on the rocks below....But there was no traffic noise, no radio, no television....She closed her eyes and drank in the peace.

Then from another room somewhere deep in the castle came the sound of a piano.

“Holy shit! Ghosts.” and Blue sat petrified for a moment in the big dining chair she had chosen. Then her logic took control. She would get to the bottom of this. She moved out into the hallway and down the passage towards where the sound was coming.

It was romantic music...passionate as if whoever had written it was trying to express a desire so deep that it was far beyond words. Blue had never taken much interest in classical music, but this really got to her. The notes reverberated up and down the passageway expressing untold desire, and torment.

It was coming from a room she had not previously seen. Slowly she opened the door and there was Morrice seated at the piano, his hands flying backwards and forwards his eyes closed as if possessed by some magic demon. She could do nothing but watch him. She did not feel it was right to interrupt. This man was so intense, so passionately involved in what he was doing that she could only look and be drawn as if by magic into a world where nothing mattered but the emotions expressed by the swirling notes.

The music awoke emotions she had not felt for a long time. It seemed to express the intense longing of sexual frustrated passion. She had been too busy recently to notice that it had been a long time since someone had held her in his arms.

She watched entranced until the music finished.

“That was beautiful,” She said though aware that the word didn’t capture the passion or the pain.

“Yeah. Not bad the old Beethoven.”

“What was it?”

“It’s actually the first movement of his Sonata Number 26. Dull name. It’s better known as ‘Les Adieux’ - the goodbye.”

“It sounded so angry...so well frustrated somehow.”

“Well Beethoven was a frustrated man. His grandmother and father were alcoholics and put into asylums. He had to raise his brothers on his own. I reckon he strove for perfection in both his music because his relationships with women were flawed. He lusted after women who were unattainable. He never married. He was always chasing rainbows as far as women went. There’s a letter he wrote to one of his lovers:” Morrice quoted the extract by heart.

“‘My Angel, my all, my very self. Can our love endure but through sacrifice - If you do not demand everything - can’t you become wholly mine and I wholly thine?’”

“It’s interesting to think just what were the circumstances. Why couldn’t the lady make herself available? We’ll never know...We don’t even know who the lady was. The letter was never sent. Found after his death in a secret drawer in his bureau”

“Seems sad somehow.” said Blue

“Yes but if he had been able to have a satisfactory relationship, perhaps all that frustrated beautiful music would never have been written”

“You almost seem to identify with him?” And Blue’s slightly mocking smile hid a desire to really know more about this man.

“Who me baby. Don’t worry about me.. Us Aussies are known far and wide as perfect lovers!” His smile exposed the self irony.

“Come on let’s eat,” invited Blue, “I’m starving.”

They made their way back to the dining room and sat down to enjoy the prepared supper. Morrice found a well stocked Bar. In it was a bottle of Chardonnay.

“Want a glass?”

“No thanks I like Korbel and Coke.”

Morrice gave a non-committal shrug. You could tell that he didn’t think much of Blue’s tastes in liquor, but he was too polite to say so. Blue noticed however.

“What’s wrong with Korbel and Coke?”

“Nothing. Depends on what you drink for...The taste or the effect.”

“Oh a wine snob eh?”

“No I just like the taste of a good wine. ...and I don’t much go for Coke.”

“Well I do. Nothing wrong with that is there?” God she thought to herself why am I trying to justify my actions to this man? Why do I care what he thinks of me?

Morrice said nothing for a while. Just looked at her as he expertly mixed Blue’s drink then uncorked the bottle of wine for himself. It was as if he were reading her thoughts.

“You look ravishing in that dress.” was all he said.

It was such a sudden change of subject that it caught Blue unawares and she found her face colouring.

“Well I...er...it’s a long story.”

“Got all night. Or I assume I have” Again the devilish teasing sparkle in his eye, assured her that if there was any double meaning to be found in the statement, Morrice had meant it.

And so Blue told him the story, and much much more; of her Childhood in Wisconsin. How she had caused her parents pain through her independent teenage years.

“I was wild. Had a reputation at College. Got into trouble. You’d reckon with the pill available and all”

She told Morrice of how when she did get into trouble it was he father not her mother that helped her.

“Mum just couldn’t cope. Went to pieces. Looking back I can see how hard it was for her. She was s...so ...straight laced. Sexually at any rate. Frustrated. Lot’s of time to herself. Dad was successful in his business. So successful that mum started to spend time by herself. Must have been about then that she started drinking. I mean to excess. Ended up a real mess. Didn’t help my teenage years either.” Blue was smiling ruefully.

“I hope this story has a happy ending.”

“Yeah. It’s funny how things work out. Dad remarried. Lived happily ever after.”

“And you?”

“Had my ups and downs. More ups than downs. Look back on a lot of it now with affection. Almost as if it happened to someone else.. Not real. You understand?”

“Yes that’s the one blessing of memory. You kinda only keep remembering the good times. It’s good to remember that when things go wrong. The art to life is to let the bad bits sink and grab the good bits.” Morrice smiled.

“Now tell me about you.” asked Blue

Morrice didn’t answer at first. He just looked at her intently.

“You know something?” he said. “You’re standing under some mistletoe.”

“Am I?” Blue smiled invitingly. “How nice”

And that’s how they first kissed. He came over to her put his arms around her and held her close. He looked into her eyes and without any hurry or hesitation bent down and kissed her confidently and expertly on the mouth. There was no threat in it. No ardour which could have frightened her at that moment. Only the promise of something better should she chose to take it. They melted into one another for some seconds.

“Whew. Time for desert I should think.”