‘I don’t like to hear swear words from that pretty mouth.’
‘Don’t you?’ Liddy sounded surprised.
‘I do not. It’s ugly in a woman. Let me eat first and then I’ll kiss that foul language away. Bejesus! Fish fingers! I thought your folk’d be too grand for peasant food.’
‘Oh, we aren’t grand at all! We’re just farmers who’ve lost all our land. Our housekeeper’s posher than we are.’
‘Having a housekeeper at all’s posh, isn’t it? My ma did everything in the house and looked after the pigs and chickens as well.’
‘My mother can’t do that because she had a stroke,’ Liddy said disingenuously, as though there were a possibility that Violet might have tended pigs had she been well enough. ‘That was five years ago and she’s only just getting better.’
‘Ah, poor lady.’ The teasing tone left his voice. ‘There’s none so high they don’t know what suffering is. Dad always said that when my mother used to carp about upper-class people like you.’
‘I’ll go away and leave you to starve if you’re going to be mean. Anyway, our housekeeper’s more of a friend than anything. When she goes back to London, I’m going to stay with her. She’s beautiful and has lovely clothes and knows about things that grand people know about. We’re all quite ignorant.’
‘You mean she’s English? Curse them all, may they rot in hell!’
‘Danny, no! I forbid you to curse her.’
The man laughed. ‘I like it when you’re angry. Come here and give me a kiss.’ There was a silence of some ten seconds. Then he said, ‘Liddy, Liddy! I don’t want to take advantage of your sweetness. Have you ever been with a man?’
All this time I had been poised on the ladder, trying to make up my mind what to do. Now I shot up to the top and showed my head above the trapdoor.
‘Mind if I come up?’
Before they could answer I had climbed into the loft.
‘Damn!’ said Liddy. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell everyone.’
I looked around. The light of two candles burning in saucers was enough to show me a pillow and a heap of blankets, an enamel jug and a Belleek second period cup among a pile of dirty plates. The young man who had been sitting in the straw with his arms round Liddy scrambled to his feet as soon as he saw me.
‘How do you do?’ I held out my hand. ‘I’m Bobbie Norton.’
He hesitated, then reluctantly took my hand. He was perhaps twenty years old, with a face that was attractive despite its scowl and several days’ growth of stubble on his chin. His other hand was hidden in a sling fashioned from a scarf I recognized as Violet’s. ‘With that voice you’ll be the housekeeper.’
I looked enquiringly at Liddy.
‘This is Danny,’ she said sulkily. ‘He’s on the run from the IRA.’
‘Tst!’ Danny looked angry. ‘Will you hush now! You’ll get me killed yet, you crazy girl.’
‘Is it true?’ I asked.
Danny’s eyes glittered and he shook his head but I saw by the twitching of his mouth that he was moved by some strong emotion, perhaps fear. ‘I’m a travelling tinker, just looking for a place to lie up. I’ll be moving on now so you needn’t trouble yourself about me.’
I picked up a book that was open on the floor near where he had been lying. ‘Metamorphoses. Hm. I wonder how many tinkers read Ovid? Or know Latin at all.’
‘I was in training to be a priest.’ Danny held out his hand for the book. ‘But I took it into my head that the open road would suit me best. Besides, the translation’s on the opposite page.’
I stood looking at him, wondering what I ought to say or do.
He returned my stare. ‘I’ll take myself off, then.’
‘No!’ Liddy took hold of his sleeve and looked up at him. ‘You’re not well yet. You’ll get caught if you go out there. You told me—’
‘Whisht, Liddy!’ He spoke sharply but he took her hand gently enough. ‘You know nothing about it and that’s how it should be. You’ve been very good to me, darling, and I’ll never forget you, but there’s no future in it. I’ll slip away now while it’s dark. I’ll be all right.’
Liddy bit her lip and tears filled her eyes.
‘How did you hurt your arm?’ I asked.
‘I fell into a ditch.’
‘It’s not true.’ Liddy rested her head on his shoulder and put her other arm round his neck. ‘He was shot. He’s had a fever all week until today.’ She pleaded with me, her large drowning eyes just like Violet’s. ‘Bobbie, you can’t let him go out in the cold and the wet. Please let him stay a few more days. I’ll do anything for you, if you will. I’ll waitress until I drop. Please, please!’
‘It’s not up to me, Liddy. I’ll fetch your aunt and she can decide what ought to be done.’ I looked at Danny. ‘But if you’ve any sense, you’ll tell Constance the truth. We won’t be able to help you otherwise.’
‘It’ll be best I should go,’ he said, but I heard a note of irresolution in his voice.
‘I won’t be long,’ I said. ‘Finish your supper. You look as though you could do with it.’ Though the light was poor I had the impression of someone weary and downhearted.
‘Can she be trusted?’ I heard him ask as I went down the ladder. ‘Supposing she rings the Garda?’
‘She won’t,’ said Liddy. ‘I can tell she feels sorry for you. Bobbie likes rescuing things.’
If I had not been troubled on Liddy’s behalf I would have smiled at this.
‘Con?’ I put my head round the kitchen door. ‘I want to consult you a minute. About the tea-room,’ I added, seeing that Kit was looking at me with curiosity.
‘Goodness!’ Constance gave him the drying-up cloth. ‘How flattering to be asked for my views on something domestic.’
‘There’s something I want to show you over here first.’ I steered her towards the barn.
‘Is it something to do with the Flying Irishman?’
‘Yes,’ I said in case the stable yard had ears.
‘What on earth?’ she said as I led her past Flurry, who was still hammering and ignored us, over to the wooden stairs.
‘Just come and see.’
‘I haven’t been up here in years. It used to be where the farm-workers went with their sweethearts for a little—Liddy!’
Constance looked in amazement at her niece who stood with her arms around Danny, looking defiant. ‘Who’s this?’
‘I beg your pardon for trespassing, ma’am.’ Danny put Liddy to one side and took a step towards Constance, standing with his good hand on his hip in an attitude of one squaring up for a fight. ‘Liddy’s been kind enough to take care of me when I needed it but I’ll be more than sorry if she gets into a row because of it.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Constance. She stared at the blankets and plates. ‘How long have you been hiding here?’
‘My name’s Danny Quill. I’ve been here the best part of a week. My father was the schoolmaster over at Ballincarn. I’m … It’s a bit awkward …’ He ran his hand through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. ‘The truth is I’m on the run. I’d be grateful if you’d give me shelter one more night. I’m still weak from loss of blood and I could do with another twenty-four hours to rest up. Then I’ll go, tomorrow night when it’s dark.’
‘On the run?’ Constance seemed dazed. ‘Who from?’
‘Well, ma’am, from the Garda. And from the lads.’ He gave a short uneasy laugh. ‘Both at once. The devil’s in it and no mistake.’
‘From the IRA? My God!’ It was interesting that Constance seemed unimpressed by the forces of law. ‘What … Tell me how it’s happened.’
‘I’ll tell you it straight.’ Danny seemed to sway a little. ‘But I’d be obliged if you’d let me sit down.’
‘Of course! I think I need to too.’
We all sat on the hay except Liddy who positioned herself, cross-legged, at Danny’s feet.
‘I was at the seminary in Williamsbridge until a year
ago. But I couldn’t see my way to being a priest. There were too many things that didn’t add up. The Church is buried up to its eyes in the past. If Ireland’s ever going to be free we need to move forward and beat the English at their own game.’ His eyes flickered towards me and then back to Constance’s face. ‘But’ – he laughed again, a tired sound – ‘you don’t want to hear about all that. To cut it short I joined the IRA six months ago.’
‘Is your father Bryan Quill, the poet?’ asked Constance.
‘Was. The old fellow died just before I joined up. And Ma’s been dead three years now. I’ve none to shame.’
‘I knew your father. He was a good man and a fine poet. I’m so sorry he’s no longer with us.’
‘Yes, well …’ Some of the curtness went out of Danny’s voice. ‘I was telling you how I got shot. I expect you know, the IRA’s finances come from donations from abroad – the United States, mostly – and one of the ways we help ourselves is by robbing banks. I don’t apologize for that. You can’t conjure guns out of thin air. The end justifies the means.’
‘I don’t think your father would have agreed with you.’ Constance sounded indignant.
‘I don’t suppose he would.’ Danny grew fierce in his turn. ‘He’d have taken any blows anyone cared to give him rather than lift his hand against another man. But that’s not my view of things. Though to tell the truth, I’m not sure any more what to think.’ He sighed, letting his head drop back on his shoulders and closing his eyes as though unbearably tired.
‘All right,’ said Constance. ‘You’d better go on.’
‘So I was with the lads and we were robbing a bank in … it doesn’t matter where, and some other fellows drove up and started shooting. I recognized one of them. A member of the INLA. He had a whacking great Kalashnikov rifle. The INLA get a lot of dosh and weapons from the Middle East. He shot my friend Joe in the mouth. He fell dead on the instant.’
‘I’ll never understand what you men really want,’ said Constance. ‘Aren’t you all Republicans? On the same side?’
Danny laughed sardonically. ‘It’s not that simple. There are countless divisions and splinter groups, mostly feuding, some bitterly opposed. The INLA are close to the Provisionals but they hate the Official IRA. You have to understand that besides bank raids and foreign money, the IRA and the others are funded by protection rackets and drug-running. Dirty business means bad blood that’s got nothing to do with the just cause of freedom. Joe’d been campaigning lately against choosing civilian targets. He always was a big talker: I suppose that’s why they shot him in the mouth. Joe’s idea was we should only pick off military targets. Soldier against soldier, see? The INLA were responsible for the assassination of that politician, Airey Neave, last spring. Joe said that was cowardly.’
Constance groaned. ‘You’re all as wicked as one another. What you men need is a lot of guns filled with blanks and then you can take pot-shots at each other all day long without doing any harm. You’re like silly children, spiteful and selfish. I don’t believe in your cause. It’s just an excuse to play war games.’
Danny shrugged. ‘I can’t argue with you now. I’m too tired. And … I’m pretty disillusioned myself. The truth is I’m not the man I thought I was. For a while there in the bank, after they shot Joe, I was so shocked. I’d never seen a man killed before. A woman was wailing like the caoineadh. I saw out of the corner of my eye something red that was spreading. It was Joe’s blood. Then one of our lot moved quicker than a snake striking and kicked the Kalashnikov out of that murdering bastard’s hands. It flew up into the air and landed behind the counter. He yelled at me, “Finish the bugger off!” I was standing the nearest, see? Well, we weren’t so well provided for. One rifle between three of us. I only had a knife. I lifted it high. I was going to ram it into his heart. For one second, perhaps less than that, I looked into the fellow’s eyes. That piece of sh—that bastard had blasted my mate’s head into a unrecognizable mess not a minute before … but still I couldn’t – stick – a bloody – knife in him. I couldn’t – do it!’ Danny spoke jerkily, through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a nod of his head. ‘I guess the things you’re taught in childhood go deep. I turned and ran. I deserted rather than kill a skunk who wouldn’t have hesitated to blast me more full of holes than a tea-strainer. I’ve been running ever since. I’ll be running for the rest of my life probably.’ He made a noise between a gasp and a grunt, then rested his forehead on his hand, shuddering throughout his frame. Liddy held tight to his knees.
‘You were quite right!’ Constance was blazing. ‘You ran from violence and murder and everything that’s stolen the innocence out of Ireland. You’re still a part of the decent rational world and you ought to be praising God for your deliverance!’
Danny kept his face hidden. ‘I can’t get the sight of blood out of my eyes.’ He gave a sigh that was almost a sob. ‘Or the smell of my own fear out of my nostrils.’
Constance looked at me questioningly. I lifted my eyebrows and shoulders, a gesture of indecision. I had no idea of the consequences of befriending an IRA deserter.
‘You’d better come into the house,’ said Constance. ‘It’s cold here and you need proper rest and food. And we’ll look at that arm.’
‘As for that, it’s nothing. Someone took a shot at me as I got into the street and the bullet grazed my arm. It’s healing already. But I won’t come in, though I appreciate the invitation. If you’ll just let me stay till tomorrow night I’ll take myself away after dark. They’ll be looking for me, see.’
‘Surely people leave the IRA all the time? They can’t chase them all. They’d never get any robbing and killing done.’ Constance was sarcastic in her anger, prompted in part, I suspected, by sympathy for this man who was still half a boy.
‘They let most go without much struggle, that’s true. But I’m in possession of more information than is healthy. Since seventy-six we’ve been organized into cells. Anything between five and ten men. The OC knows the Brigade Adjutant who gives him his orders, that’s all. That way the Brits can torture prisoners until the next ice age and it won’t do them any good. My nickname was “the scholar”. That doesn’t mean much. Half the lads can barely read or write. I was trusted with drafting reports for key members and not long ago I was given the job of compiling a detailed log of weapons dumps for all of Ulster and Connaught. Highly privileged information. I was proud of it at the time. Now it’ll get me executed, probably.’
‘The whole business makes me want to weep.’ Constance stood up. ‘If only all that energy could be put into something constructive!’
‘It’s all right for you,’ said Danny, assuming some of his former belligerence. ‘You’re very comfortably situated with a fine castle to live in and a senator for a brother.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’ Constance was fuming. ‘It isn’t my brother or Curraghcourt that’s keeping Ireland ignorant and destitute. If you want to help the poor, why don’t you start a business and create jobs? That’ll do more good than hiding in alleyways and killing husbands and fathers. And sometimes the wives and children as well.’
Danny was scowling again. ‘I’ll go now.’
‘Oh, give me strength!’ Constance was magnificent in her fury. ‘Will you stop being so bloody embittered and come along before I wash my hands of you entirely?’
‘Don’t swear, Aunt Con,’ said Liddy. ‘Danny doesn’t like to hear it from women.’
Constance ignored this. ‘Either you come into the house or I’ll go this minute and ring the Garda.’
FORTY-EIGHT
‘Who is this young Daniel among the lionesses?’ Kit asked later when Danny had had his arm cleaned and bound and then been sent away to bath and bed.
‘A friend of Liddy’s.’ I had emerged from the cloakroom with a selection of umbrellas and outer garments forgotten by the visitors. Thanks to the demands of the stately-home business, I had managed to avoid anything like a row with Kit. Not only because I hate
them but also because he had been so helpful, so generous, so resourceful and everyone at Curraghcourt was fond of him. I was still quite fond of him myself. He had made love to Violet because he liked sex and perhaps had felt sorry for her. Most men, finding themselves in such circumstances, would have done the same.
‘Is he the reason she’s been so dreamy-eyed this last week?’
‘Probably.’ It seemed I was the last person to notice anything. ‘Now who could have left these?’ I picked up a pair of black suede high-heeled shoes with ankle straps, which were lying at the bottom of the stairs. ‘They seem too frivolous for any of the sensible, serious, middle-aged people who came today.’
‘I didn’t hear the boy arrive. What’s he done to his arm?’
‘He’s quarrelled with his family and we’re giving him temporary shelter.’ I held up the bottom row of a set of false teeth. ‘I think these must belong to that poor old man who was being pushed around in a wheelchair by his bad-tempered daughter.’
‘Isn’t he a little old for so much cosseting?’
‘Surely old age is the time when cosseting … Oh, you mean Danny. I don’t think he’s much more than twenty. But all men require cosseting, in my experience. Whether they should get it or not is a matter for debate.’
Kit looked at me narrowly. ‘Why am I being cast into outer darkness?’
‘What are you talking about?’ I stood with an armful of caps, gloves and pleated plastic rain-hats, staring at him rather stupidly.
‘Not long ago I was your confidant and almost best friend. Now you treat me as though I’ve got leprosy but you’re too polite to let on you know.’
Kit was tiresomely acute when it came to subtleties of mood.
‘You’re imagining things. We’re all exhausted by this new regime. I think I’ll go to bed.’
‘Just a minute.’
Kit took me by the shoulders, turned me round and steered me into the dining room. After we had cleared away the last traces of supper Constance and I had put the best china and silver on the table to impress the visitors and I had arranged five small vases of the flowers that grew semi-wild in the garden – anemones, grape hyacinths and narcissi – down its length. Despite Kit’s grip on my arm, I found myself casting a critical eye over the result and made a mental note to get the wax off the candlesticks in the morning. It was amazing how much time – at least an hour a day – was saved by all of us, apart from Maud and Violet, having breakfast and lunch in the kitchen. We had bought a dishwasher with money from the poteen fund and so far everyone had abided by the rule to put in their own plates, cups, knives and forks. Even Pegeen, Katty and Timsy, usually resistant to any change initiated by me, had complied with the new policy as it gave them extra time in which to play Hangman. The time we gained was easily swallowed by the daily necessity to transform Curraghcourt from a chaotic muddle into a showplace.
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