by A. O'Connor
“Hello, constable,” she said, getting off her stool.
“Quiet evening,” he said, glancing around the near-empty bar.
“Isn’t every evening?” She smirked at him. “What will you be having?”
“A pint of stout, please.”
“Certainly.”
She set about pulling him a pint and when it was ready placed it on the bar.
“Thank you,” he said and paid her.
She felt sorry for him. He must be very lonely so far from home and, with the townspeople keeping a distance from him, it must be impossible for him to make friends. Even when people indulged him in polite conversations, they never lowered their barriers.
He sauntered down to the other end of the bar, to Larry and the other men.
“Do you mind if I join you, gentlemen?” he asked.
“No, be our guest,” said the men, but everyone knew, including Kelleher, that the conversation would be guarded.
But Philip didn’t mind – it was human contact after staring at nothing but the four walls of his barracks every day for the past week since his last day off.
Kitty sat up on the stool again and reached for the newspaper.
When the door of the bar opened again, she looked up to see two figures walk quickly in. She couldn’t quite comprehend what she was seeing. The two men were wearing balaclavas over their heads. Before she had time to react, they marched quickly to the end of the bar where Larry and the others were chatting to Kelleher.
“What the fuck?” shouted Larry on looking up and seeing them.
One of the men took out a gun and, aiming it straight at Kelleher, shot him twice before turning and racing from the premises, his partner at his heels.
Kitty saw Kelleher slump and slide off his chair to the ground. She ran from behind the bar to where Larry had knelt down beside him.
“What – who –” The words tumbled out of her mouth.
The young man was still alive, but blood was pouring out of him. His eyes were open as he gurgled.
“Get a doctor – and a priest – now!” shouted Larry at the other men and they ran out of the bar.
“Will I get anything, Larry? Will I get anything for him?” cried Kitty. She was trembling, and her eyes filled with tears.
Larry looked up at her, his face as pale as a ghost, and just shook his head. She covered her mouth with her hand, recognising that he was indicating that the young man was beyond help.
“You’re fine, Philip, there’s a good man,” Larry said softly as he stroked the young man’s head. “You’re going to be alright. Brave lad like you, sure didn’t you show the Germans how brave you were at the front?”
Kitty dropped to her knees, reached for Philip’s hand and held it while Larry continued stroking his head and saying comforting words.
Time passed. Kelleher stared at the ceiling and the gurgling noises became less loud.
At last the door of the bar swung open and the doctor and priest rushed in, followed by the men who had fetched them.
Kitty and Larry quickly moved out of the way as the doctor knelt down beside Kelleher. “How many bullets?” he demanded.
“Two – two shots,” answered Larry.
The doctor did a quick check and then looked at the priest and shook his head. The priest got down on his knees and began to give the Last Rites.
As the doctor and priest attended to the dying man, Kitty stumbled to a table at the far side of the lounge and sat down in a chair, shaking uncontrollably.
Nothing seemed real to her as eventually the body of the young policeman was taken out of their premises and taken to the local undertaker’s.
Late that night, the Kiernans sat in the parlour trying to digest what had happened.
“You hear about these atrocities, but you don’t expect it to happen in your home,” said Maud.
Kitty raised her eyes and said angrily, “Why not? Are we supposed to be immune because we are friends with Mick Collins and Gearóid?”
“Come now, Kitty! Admit that you would never have expected such a thing to happen here,” said Maud. “Isn’t that so?”
Kitty, in fact, had not. “I can’t see how the killing of that young man benefits anybody,” she said, not answering Maud’s question.
“He was a target as long as he was wearing that uniform, Kitty – you know that as well as any of us,” Larry said. “War is war – and we’ve been lucky so far in that it’s been kept away from us until now.”
“I’m glad Helen isn’t here to see it,” said Chrys.
Helen had gone again to visit her future in-laws in Enniskillen.
“I think you girls should go away for a while as well,” said Larry.
“Go away – where? Why?” demanded Kitty.
“We won’t be opening the hotel or any of the businesses tomorrow,” said Larry. “There’s something in the air. The Black and Tans won’t take this sitting down. There will be reprisals and this place will be high on the list.”
“If the police found out about our connection with Michael Collins, we would be in extreme danger,” said Maud.
“It would only take one informer,” said Larry. “And there’s many a local who must recognise him from when he was campaigning for the election in 1918.” He shook his head. “This killing of the young policeman on our premises – it’s going to turn a lot of attention on us – attention we don’t want.”
“Well, I’m not leaving my home,” said Kitty. “I won’t leave my home because of fear. I won’t be driven out.”
CHAPTER 11
Michael sat at a desk in an office he was using in Dame Street in Dublin. Around him was gathered a group of men as he pointed to a map on the desk.
“If we can get the arms arriving here at the port at midnight, stash them in these sheds that are close by until the patrol passes at two, then move them by lorry to the Cork –”
A man came rushing into the room.
“What is it, Emmet?” asked Michael.
“There was a killing of an RIC constable in Longford last night – in the Greville Arms Hotel.”
“In the hotel?” Michael was incredulous.
“In the bar!”
“Who the fuck is responsible for that? Who gave the order?” Michael looked accusingly at the men gathered around him as they all shook their heads in denial. “For fuck’s sake!” He slammed his fists on the desk, causing everyone present to shudder at his temper. “Are the family alright? The family – the girls?”
“No other casualties – just the policeman,” said Emmet.
“Well, that won’t be the case for long. The place will go up like dropping a match in a tinder factory. Get a message down to the Kiernans to leave the area immediately. Tell them it’s an order from me for their own safety.”
“Yes, sir,” said Emmet as he turned to leave.
Michael went to the window and looked out at the street below. He was shaking. He only hoped the family had the good sense to get out of town. Knowing Kitty, she would be obstinate and refuse to leave. He began to fear for Helen’s safety. They had no idea what was coming their way. The retaliation would be quick and savage and aimed at the local civilian population. He could only hope his message would get to them on time.
It was early the next morning that the sound of gunshots echoed around the town. Kitty ran to the window of the parlour.
“Oh no!” she shouted.
Coming down the street was a convoy of vehicles full of Black and Tans.
The Tans were firing into houses on the main street and breaking windows.
“May the saints preserve us – what will we do?” cried Molly, shaking with fear. “They will kill us all! Kill us for sure and hang us from the treetops!”
“They will not! Keep calm!” said Kitty. “We’ll get away from these windows and go to the back of the house. We’ll be safe there.”
Kitty ushered everyone out of the parlour and down to the kitchen at the back of the house where they
locked the door and sat in silence, listening to the growing riot outside.
“Arrrgh!” There was a collective scream as they heard breaking glass at the front of the house.
“Shhhh!” whispered Kitty. “Don’t make a sound!”
But the terrifying noises seemed to be getting closer.
Michael desperately tried to get information from Granard all day. But the whole area was on lockdown since the shooting of the police constable. It was crawling with Black and Tans so impossible to get information in or out.
“We do know that they are carrying out a raid on the town,” said Emmet, “but hard to know how severe it is. It started early this morning.”
“Well, of course it’s fucking severe! They’ll level the town!” Michael ran his fingers through his hair as he paced up and down. “She won’t have got out in time … she wouldn’t have time to leave … she’s trapped there.” He seemed to be talking to himself.
“Mick?” asked Emmet, concerned for his leader.
“We have to get to the hotel and get the Kiernan family out of there to safety. Send the Squad in!”
“Are you mad? To the Greville Arms – where the shooting took place? Sure, even if the Squad could get near the place with the amount of Black and Tans there, it would be a suicide mission!”
“Well, we can’t just leave her there!” Michael shouted, tossing his hair back from his forehead and slamming his fist on the table.
“Leave who?” cried Emmet in confusion and desperation.
“Helen – for fuck’s sake!”
As night fell, the family and the servants still cowered in the kitchen. The rioting outside had been going on all day. The hotel had come under heavy fire and they could hear Tans rampaging through the building. Outside, gunshots, screaming and shouting could be heard continuously.
Now the family and servants were praying the Rosary in whispers. By the sound of it, the Tans were in the hotel bar helping themselves to the alcohol there. By the laughing and shouting it sounded like they were having a party and the idea of the Black and Tans being high on alcohol made them even more terrifying. Kitty prayed with all her might that they wouldn’t come from the hotel back into the house and find them.
It felt like the longest night of Kitty’s life as the sounds of rioting from the bar, shooting and houses being ransacked went on and on.
When the sun arose the next morning, the town was quiet. Kitty and Larry cautiously left the kitchen and walked through the house to the parlour which they found empty. There was broken glass on the plush carpet from where the windows had been smashed. They carefully went to a window and looked out. The street looked as if a bomb had hit it. Broken glass everywhere, contents from houses and shops strewn everywhere, small bonfires burning all along the street. There were also Tans passed out from the night of drinking while others wearily sauntered up and down.
Kitty could see people were taking advantage of the lull and timidly coming out of their houses. However, they weren’t waiting around but were leaving as quickly as they could, by foot, bicycle, horse and cart or automobile. By any means people were getting out of town before the next wave of rioting, which nobody was in any doubt would occur.
“We’ll just pack what we need and leave now, while we can,” said Larry.
Kitty nodded. “I’ll tell the others.”
Kitty did not stop praying until they were at least an hour outside Granard and she felt she was safe from immediate threat. As they approached Dublin, they veered south of the city. They were heading to the Grand Hotel in Greystones. After the ordeal they had been through, they needed peace and quiet and so wanted to stay out of the city itself and yet be close enough for Gearóid and Maud to meet. The family had often visited the little seaside town over the years and Kitty and her sisters had gone to the Loreto boarding school in nearby Bray, before spending two years at Patrick Pearse’s nationalist St. Ita’s College, in Ranelagh in Dublin.
Kitty thanked God that they had all got out of Granard alive and uninjured. The war had certainly not just come to their doorstep, but into their home.
All day long, in the Dame Street office, Michael anxiously awaited news from Longford. Although none of his intelligence agents had got near the town, there had been reports of fires seen in the distance and the continual sound of gunfire all day.
Gearóid had been at the office earlier and was sick with worry about Maud. Michael had tried to calm him down.
As night came and there was still no news, knowing he would be unable to sleep, Michael did not make his way to one of the safe houses but stayed in Dame Street anxiously pacing the floor. He was imagining the worst. He, more than anybody, knew what the Black and Tans were capable of doing when they ransacked a town. They got completely out of control and, mixing alcohol into the equation, they were capable of committing any atrocities against the civilian population.
Eventually, Michael put his head down on the desk and drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER 12
“Mick! Mick!” came a voice.
Mick awoke with a start and saw it was Emmet.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“News came through from Granard. The Kiernan family managed to leave the town along with most of the other townspeople.”
“All of them? All the family?”
“Yeah, the brother and the sisters,” confirmed Emmet.
Michael felt his body flood with relief. He sank down into the chair again and buried his face in his hands as tears threatened.
“Where are they now?” he asked, wiping his face with his hands.
“They are on their way to Greystones – to stay at the Grand Hotel.”
Michael jumped up. “And the town? What condition is the town in?”
“Sure, they ransacked the whole place. Set houses on fire, looted business – the usual. They were all pissed as farts, falling around the town drunk from all the alcohol they stole from the bars and houses. That’s how the townspeople managed to escape – there were no proper roadblocks in place.”
“Excellent!” said Michael and his eyes narrowed as he planned. “They’ll be making their way back to their barracks at some stage today or tomorrow – have a column waiting for them on the road back to the barracks – they’ll be in no condition to fight back after all that drink. We’ll teach them a lesson they can carry back to Mr. Lloyd were you when we needed George!”
“I’ll give the order,” said Emmet as he turned to leave.
“And Emmet – get me a motorcar to take me to Greystones.”
“Yes, Mick,” he said with a smile before leaving.
Michael slumped down in the chair again but now with relief clear on his face.
It was late afternoon by the time Michael’s automobile pulled up outside the Grand Hotel, a large Victorian building close to the sea. He glanced up at its unusual exterior with gabled dormer windows on the upper floor and a long balcony on the second, then hurried inside.
“What room is Miss Helen Kiernan in?” he demanded of the man behind reception.
“We don’t have a Miss Helen Kiernan staying here, sir,” said the man.
“Of course you do! Look at your registration book, you eejit!”
“Michael!” came the call of a familiar voice and he turned to see Kitty standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Thank God – Kitty!” he said, hurrying to her and embracing her.
She suddenly felt overcome with feelings of safety and comfort and she held on to him tightly as she started to cry.
“Oh, Michael – it was terrible,” she sobbed as he soothed her and stroked her hair.
“I know,” he soothed. “You’re safe now, Kitty.”
She wanted to stay there, forever safe in his arms.
“It’s so good to see you, Mick,” she whispered.
“And you – I was worried sick about you all.”
“I thought they were going to burn the house down around us. They’ve destro
yed the hotel.”
“I know, I know, love,” he soothed her.
“And then the poor young constable, Mick! He was a nice young man and he was shot right in front of me in our bar.”
“Kitty!” came another voice.
Reluctantly she lifted her face from Michael’s chest and turned her head to see who the speaker was.
It was Gearóid, who had just arrived at the hotel and looked equally as frantic as Michael.
“Kitty – where’s Maud?”
“She’s in the restaurant with Larry.”
“Are you alright?” asked Gearóid.
“I’m fine – go in and find Maud, Gearóid,” she urged.
As Gearóid rushed away, she gently pulled back from Michael’s arms and looked up into his face. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away her tears. She was embarrassed, feeling that she had let her guard down in front of him – he had never seen her vulnerable before.
“Well, you are a right one, showing up when all the drama is over!” she said. “Where were you when we needed you most?”
He smiled at her apologetically and then asked anxiously, “Where’s Helen? Is she inside with the others?”
“No – she’s in Enniskillen. She’s with Paul’s family. Sure, she wasn’t home at all during the whole thing.”
“Oh!” said Michael. “I thought she was here! That’s why …”
They looked at each other blankly for a few moments.
“Kitty – my darling!” came another voice.
Kitty spun around to see Lionel had just arrived into the hotel lobby and was rushing to her.
“Lionel!” she gasped in surprise as he enveloped her in a bear hug.
“I have been sick with worry about you – literally sick! I had to stop the automobile to vomit on the side of the road!” Lionel’s voice was high on drama. “I couldn’t get near the town during the siege – yes – siege is the word I would use to describe it! And when I finally got there the hotel was destroyed and no sign of any of you!”
