Colm Tóibín - Brooklyn

She smiled at the thought that she would go along with most of it. She was on her holidays and it was harmless, but she would not go into the sea with him as though she were his girlfriend. She would, she reasoned, like to be able to face Tony knowing that she had not done that. She and Jim stood and watched George and Nancy playing in the shallow water and moving together towards the waves. When Jim suggested that they follow, she shook her head and walked on ahead of him. She wondered for a second, as he caught up with her, how she would feel if she learned that Tony had gone to Coney Island on a day like today with a friend and two young women, one of whom he spent time alone with walking by the sea. It was impossible, she thought, something he would never do. And he would suffer at even the slightest hint of what she was doing now as they arrived back at where they had left their belongings and Jim smoothed out the rug for her and, still wearing only his togs, smiled and settled himself down beside her under the warm sun.

"My father says that this part of the coast is being badly eroded," he said as though they were in the middle of a conversation.

"We used to stay here years ago for a week or two in the hut that Michael Webster and Nora bought. I can't remember who owned it when we rented it. You would notice the change every summer when you came down," she said.

"My father says that he remembers your father here years ago."

"They all used to come on bicycles from the town."

"Are there beaches near Brooklyn?"

"Oh, yes," she said, "and in the summer they're always crowded at the weekend."

"I'd say you'd get every type of person there," he said as though he approved of the idea.

"Every type," she said.

They did not speak for a while as Eilis sat up and watched Nancy floating on the water with George swimming close to her. Jim sat up and watched them too.

Quietly, he spoke: "Will we go and try the water?"

Eilis was waiting for this and had already planned to say no. If he had insisted too much she had even planned to say that she had someone special in Brooklyn, a man to whom she would be returning soon. But his tone, when he spoke, was unexpected in its humility. Jim spoke like someone who could be easily hurt. She wondered if it was an act, but he was looking at her with an expression so vulnerable that she, for a second, could not make her mind up what to do. She realized that, if she refused, he might walk alone down to the water like someone defeated; somehow she did not want to have to witness that.

"Okay," she said.

For a second as they waded into the water he caught her hand. But as a wave approached she moved away from him and without hesitating any further swam directly out. She did not turn to see if he was following her but kept swimming, alert to where Nancy and George were kissing and holding each other in a firm embrace and trying to avoid them as much as Jim Farrell.

She appreciated how Jim, despite being a strong swimmer himself, did not seek to follow her at first; instead he did a backstroke parallel to the beach and left her alone. She was enjoying the water, having forgotten its purity and calmness. And as she wallowed there, staring at the blue sky, kicking her feet to keep herself afloat, Jim approached her but was careful not to touch her or come too close. When he caught her eye, he smiled. Everything he did now, every word he said and every move he made, seemed deliberate, restrained and well thought out, done so as not to irritate her or appear to be moving too fast. And almost as an aspect of this care, he made his interest in her totally clear.

She understood that she should not have let things move so quickly, that she should have told Nancy after their first outing that her duty lay in being at home with her mother, or accompanying her mother on outings, and that she could not go out again with Nancy and George and Jim Farrell. She thought for a second of confiding in Nancy, not telling her the whole truth but telling her that she would soon be engaged when she returned to Brooklyn. But she realized that it was best to do nothing. She would, in any case, be going back soon.

When she got out of the water with Jim, George had a camera ready. As Nancy watched, Jim stood behind Eilis with his arms around her; she could feel the heat from him, his torso pressing against her as George took several more pictures of them before Jim took shots of George and Nancy in the same pose. Soon, as they saw a lone walker coming north from Keating's, they waited and George, having shown the outsider how the camera worked, asked him to take shots of all four of them. Jim moved as though casually, but nothing he did was casual, Eilis thought, as she felt the weight of his body once more behind her. He was careful, however, not to move as close to her as George moved to Nancy. Not once did she feel his crotch pushing against her. It would be too much and she believed he had decided not to risk it. When the photographs were taken she went back to the rug and changed and lay in the sunshine until the others were ready to go.

On the way back to Enniscorthy it was decided that they would have tea in the grill of the Courtown Hotel, which George thought was open until nine, and they would go to the dance afterwards. George teased Nancy about how long she would take to get ready, Nancy insisting that both she and Eilis would have to wash their hair after the sea water.

"Quick wash, then," George said.

"It can't be quick," Nancy replied.

Jim looked at Eilis and smiled. "God, they're not even married yet and they are bickering."

"It's for a good cause," Nancy said.

"She's right," Eilis said.

Jim reached over affectionately and squeezed her hand. "I'm sure you're both right," he said with enough sarcasm and self-mockery to prevent himself sounding as though he were trying to win favour with her.

They agreed to be ready by seven thirty. Eilis's mother went through all her dresses and shoes while she washed her hair. She had the iron and the ironing board prepared in case there were creases in the dress they chose. When Eilis appeared with a towel over her head, she saw that her mother had selected a blue dress with a floral pattern, one that was Tony's favourite, and a pair of blue shoes. Eilis was almost going to tell her that she could not wear this, but she realized that any explanation she invented would cause unnecessary tension so she went ahead and put it on. Her mother, who seemed not to resent being left alone for the rest of the evening but rather excited by Eilis's dressing up to go out again, set about ironing it while Eilis put curlers in her hair, and turned on the electric drier that had belonged to Rose.

George and Jim both knew the owner of the Courtown Hotel from rugby and they had arranged a special table with candles and wine and a special menu with champagne afterwards. Eilis observed other diners glancing over at them as though they were the most important people in the restaurant. George and Jim were both wearing sports jackets and ties and flannel trousers. As Eilis watched Nancy perusing the menu and ordering her food, she noticed something new about her: she was more refined than before, taking the solemnity of the waiter's manners seriously, whereas a few years earlier she would have raised her eyes to heaven at his pomposity, or said something casual and friendly to him. Soon, Eilis thought, she would be Mrs. George Sheridan and that would count for something in the town. She was beginning to play the role with relish.

Later in the bar of the hotel George and Jim and the owner of the hotel looked handsome and smooth as they spoke about the rugby season that had ended. It was strange, Eilis thought, that George and Jim were not in Courtown with the sisters of their friends. Everyone in the town, she knew, had been surprised when George began going out with Nancy, whose brothers would never have played rugby in their lives, and presumed it was because Nancy was so good-looking and had such good manners. And two years ago, Eilis remembered, when Jim Farrell had been openly rude to her, she thought it was because she came from a family that did not own anything in the town. Now that she was back from America, she believed, she carried something with her, something close to glamour, which made all the difference to her as she sat with Nancy watching the men talk.