AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘He hurt you again, didn’t he?’ Sketch’s voice is deep and suddenly very grown-up.
‘He was drunk,’ I say as if that’s any defence.
‘What did he do to you?’ Sketch’s beautiful face contorts with frustration. ‘Tell me, Annie. Please?’
I shake my head. ‘Nothing he hasn’t done before,’ I admit.
‘I’ll kill him. I’ll goddamn kill him.’ Sketch forces the sleeves of his shirt up over his elbows, ready.
‘Stop it. Please?’ I plead.
‘Let’s see how he likes to be punched and hit.’ Sketch marches towards the house, tall and stiff with rage.
‘Sketch. Please stop,’ I shout, forgetting that my loud voice might wake my father.
‘It’s the last time he hurts you, Annie. The last goddamn time.’ Sketch marches on, nearing the door.
‘Please,’ I shout louder. ‘You’re scaring me.’
Sketch freezes. He drops his head and stands like a statue on the spot.
I begin to cry. By the time Sketch is back, standing in front of me, I’m a quivering mess. Sketch’s rage seems to spill from him, and it’s replaced by compassion and concern.
‘I love you, Annie,’ he says. ‘The thought of that monster hurting you kills me.’
‘I know,’ I sniffle. ‘But he’s my pa. I live under his roof.’
‘That doesn’t give him any right to hurt you,’ Sketch says. ‘Christ, look at you. You’re beautiful and intelligent and funny. Any man would be privileged to have a daughter like you. I know I would be. Maybe we’ll have a little girl someday…’ Sketch pauses and gathers me into his arms. ‘I hope we do. I’ll fill my lungs with the smell of her hair, and my heart with the sound of her voice. I’ll worship the ground she walks on. Because she will be a little part of you. A gift.’
‘Sounds nice,’ I say, my frantic heartbeat gradually returning to something that resembles normal as my mind wanders to thoughts of Sketch and me walking through the orchard holding the hand of a little girl. Our little girl. Our family. It would be the most perfect fairy tale of all.
‘You don’t belong to your pa, Annie,’ Sketch says, pulling me out of my blissful daydream.
Sketch’s romantic notion of freedom and self-worth is admirable, but it’s just not the way life works. Ma belongs to Pa. I belong to Ma and Pa. It’s just the way it is.
‘People aren’t property, Annie,’ Sketch continues calmly. ‘You can’t own another person no matter how inflated your ego is.’
‘I think most husbands and fathers would disagree,’ I retort, thinking of almost every family I know in the village. The man is the head of the household, and the wife and children do as they are told. Sure, most men don’t beat their wives the way my pa does, but men and women most certainly are not equal in Athenry.
‘Maybe most menwoulddisagree with me,’ Sketch admits. ‘But then most men around here are dinosaurs living in the past. Their stubbornness and prehistoric attitude mean they are missing out. I watched my father and mother adore each other in the short time they had together. They were equals. Sure, Pops worked the land and Ma kept the house, but those were simply the roles they fell into. Pops was big and strong; he could birth a calf with his bare hands or lift countless bales of hay. Ma’s roast beef and mashed potato was second to none. My father would tell me what a wonderful cook my mother was. Ma would praise Pops’ strength and hard work. Neither of them ever took the other for granted. It was beautiful. I don’t want a wife who cleans up after me or only ever tells me the things she thinks I want to hear. I want a best friend. A partner. Someone who challenges me when I’m wrong and laughs alongside me when I’m right. I want you, Annie. No…’ creases etch into Sketch’s forehead ‘… I need you.’
I smile. ‘You have me.’
Sketch stuffs his hand into his pants pocket and pulls out a small grey box. ‘I mean, I really need you, Annie.’
My hands fly to my face, covering my mouth and nose. Sketch bends down on one knee and opens the box. A beautiful cluster of diamonds sparkles in the moonlight.
‘It was my mother’s,’ Sketch explains.
I blink in disbelief and tears stream down my face like raindrops, but this time they are tears of joy.
‘I planned to ask you after the dance, but well…’ Sketch shrugs.
‘Ask me now,’ I blurt, shocking myself. ‘Ask me now.’
I take my hands away from my face and drop them loosely by my sides, and I pull myself up as straight and as tall as I go. I don’t want anything to muffle my answer.
‘Annie Fagan, will you do me the proud honour of becoming my wife?’
