Through The Barricades: Winner of the SCBWI SPARK Award 2017

by Denise Deegan

  ‘So you are.’ Maggie glanced at her mother. ‘That’s only because Mam’s hopeless,’ she teased.

  Still she did not raise her eyes. It was as if she had decided to concentrate her attention on Lily and David, as if she had already lost Maggie.

  ‘You haven’t lost me,’ she wanted to say. But maybe it was better this way because if they did lose her, it wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe that was what their mother was doing, preparing herself and everyone else. ‘I’m only joking,’ Maggie said to Lily, bending down to kiss the top of her head. ‘You’re winning because you’re clever.’

  ‘I know!’

  Maggie and David shared a smile. Maggie glanced at the picture he was drawing while awaiting his turn. Didn’t he know that the rose was the symbol of England? But when she looked at his face, she forgave him. He was a dreamer. And dreamers could be forgiven anything.

  ‘Do you want to play, Maggie?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Lily, take your turn,’ their mother said.

  ‘It’s fine, Lil,’ Maggie said quietly. ‘I’m tired. I’m going to sit by the fire for a while.’

  ‘I’ll be over to you when I’m finished,’ Lily said.

  Maggie sat by the fire and looked into the flames. Make a difference, he’d said. He hadn’t asked her to make her mother happy; he hadn’t asked her to do what she was told. He’d asked her to make a difference in the world because he knew that he would never get the chance to. He knew that when he turned to face the fire it would be the last difference he would attempt to make. His request to her had been monumental. She had felt it at the time. She felt it now.

  Soon Lily was climbing up onto her lap. She took Maggie’s face between her hands and looked into her eyes. ‘Are you all right, Maggie?’

  Maggie smiled. Then she widened her eyes and said in a sinister voice, ‘I’m all the better for seeing you, my dear.’ She bared her teeth and took bites of air.

  Lily screamed and leapt from her lap. ‘Save me, Mammy!’

  Maggie made clawing movements.

  Lily screamed.

  And then, like a new day dawning, their mother smiled.

  The following evening, Maggie put on David’s old coat and pulled his cap down over her eyes. She did not want to upset her mother by appearing dressed as she was but she knew she would upset her more by not saying goodbye. She opened the door to the drawing room.

  Lily jumped to her feet and ran to her. ‘You’re a lovely boy, Maggie!’

  She smiled. ‘Thanks, Lil.’

  ‘You’re going to have to sound a lot gruffer than that,’ Tom said.

  ‘I’m not planning on saying a word.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Maggie, could you not join an organisation of girls?’ her mother tried.

  Maggie glanced at her brothers as she replied, ‘Because in my experience, boys are far and away more decent than girls. Don’t worry, Mam. Daniel will be with me.’

  ‘Daniel?’ Tom asked warily.

  ‘My friend.’

  ‘You’ve a friend that’s a boy?’

  ‘If you spent more time at home you might know this,’ Maggie said.

  Tom looked at their mother. ‘How can you allow this?’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think, Tom Gilligan, that having a friend who’s a boy is more dangerous than joining a rebel organisation?’

  ‘A rebel organisation of boys,’ David pointed out helpfully.

  ‘I’d trust Danny with my life,’ Maggie said.

  ‘You may have to,’ her mother countered bitterly.

  ‘About this boy-’ Tom began as though he’d transformed into a parent.

  ‘This boy will protect her from other boys.’ Maggie’s mother turned to her. ‘Go on. Off with you now. And be careful.’

  Her blessing meant the world. ‘I love you, Mam.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Because you got your way.’

  ‘No. Because I love you.’

  ten

  Daniel

  With her shorn head, Maggie looked more beautiful than ever to Daniel. But it was about more than her beauty. Or even her passion. Somehow, she had become the most important thing in his life. He would do anything to protect her, even join a rebel force. It would not come to a fight, he was certain, but it could come between him and his father – if he were ever to find out.

  As they approached Surrey House, Daniel turned to Maggie. ‘If Madame comes anywhere near us keep your head down and leave the talking to me.’

  ‘Have you no faith in me?’

  ‘I’ve too much. That’s the problem.’

  She smiled. ‘Impossible.’

  The front door was wide open so they walked in, Daniel leading the way.

  The drawing room was mobbed with boys, eagerly chatting in small groups. Daniel and Maggie moved to the back in silence. As they waited for the meeting to start, he glanced briefly at her to see how she was doing. He had to hurry the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. She was standing with her legs spread, hands on her hips and chin raised.

  ‘Very convincing,’ he whispered.

  Encouraged, she proceeded to scratch herself in a place that only a boy would scratch himself.

  Part mortified, part hysterical, he exploded into a fit of coughing.

  ‘God, the freedom of being a boy,’ she whispered.

  ‘Don’t get carried away,’ he managed. Life was never tedious with Maggie.

  At last, there was a hush as Madame arrived at the top of the room. She clapped her hands with authority. Silence fell. Then, looking from boy to boy, she began to speak. ‘It is heartening to see so many of you here today wishing to join Na Fianna. We are about to change this country, boys. Change this country. And why, you might ask, does it need to be changed?’ She let her gaze wander the room. ‘Because!’ She paused for effect. ‘Ireland is a country where people go hungry, where workers have no say and where the police are in the pockets of the rich. Let me ask you a question. Why do one third of Dubliners live in tenements?’ Again she scanned the room. ‘Why are they forced to pay rents that in other countries would buy a house? Why is that, boys? Why?’

  There was an uncertain silence. Boys exchanged glances unsure as to whether or not to reply.

  ‘Do you know your history, lads?’

  They shifted from foot to foot.

  ‘Do wish to hear your history?’

  A timid cheer rose up.

  ‘Then let me introduce you to Con Colbert. Con?’

  A man-boy in full uniform joined Madame. He thanked her then turned to the assembly.

  ‘The British,’ he began. ‘You know who they are, don’t you?’

  The boys laughed.

  ‘Well, in 1695, they introduced the Penal Laws to this little country of ours. For almost a hundred years, we Catholics could not own land. We could not become lawyers or doctors or have any profession or trade whatsoever. We could not vote. We could not practise our religion or educate our children. We could not speak our own language.’ He stopped.

  No one moved. There wasn’t a sound.

  ‘And so, you see, they used the law to make us ignorant, poor and useless. Then came the famine to break us even more, to send the starving piling into the cities, into the tenements – those that didn’t die, that is. Is it any wonder that this country is in the state it’s in? No. It is not. But! There is hope. There is one thing the Brits have never been able to take from us.’ He paused. ‘Our spirit. We’ve kept our religion. We’ve kept our education. We’ve kept our music and our stories. We’ve passed them down from generation to generation behind their miserable British backs. The one thing they’ll never be able to take from us is our spirit. Our spirit will forever be ours.’

  There was no doubt in their cheer now. But while they erupted into applause, Daniel stood stunned. He had never heard of the Penal Laws. Could they really have existed without him knowing of them? He learned history at school. His father was a lawyer. One question followed the next
in Daniel’s mind. He felt like he had that first day in the food kitchen. Lost.

  ‘A time has come for Ireland to say, “no more,”’ Con Colbert continued. ‘A time has come for Ireland to be free of British rule, to stand tall and proud and rule herself, to face the poverty and solve it. A time has come for Na Fianna Éireann. A time has come to take back this grand little country of ours.’

  The applause rose, loud and proud. Then Con Colbert raised his arm. ‘Patrick, would you come up here and explain to these fine young lads what exactly they’re signing up for today?’

  The boy who arrived beside Con Colbert was the one who had been keeping watch outside Surrey House. Colbert slapped him on the back then stood aside. Patrick looked from boy to boy, taking his own sweet time.

  ‘You might have heard that we in Na Fianna are boy scouts,’ he said, then paused. ‘Well, you heard wrong!’ he shouted. ‘We are soldiers! Fighting for the defence of Ireland!’

  A great, united roar rose up.

  ‘No other rebel organisation in this country is as well trained as Na Fianna. That I promise you. With us, you’ll learn to shoot and care for a weapon like a beloved pet. You’ll learn to signal and track. You’ll go on drills and route marches in the Dublin Mountains. You’ll study our city till you know every back alley, every dead-end, every escape route there is. You’ll learn how to fight the British Army by studying its weaknesses.’ He smiled. ‘And there are many. You’ll learn street fighting, boys. And you’ll learn to defend your country.’ He looked around. ‘Does that sound like something you might be interested in?’

  Another roar, louder than ever. Daniel felt the excitement in the room like it was a living thing.

  ‘Well, that answers my question.’ Patrick grinned. ‘Let us begin, then, with musketry training.’

  Daniel looked at Maggie. They hadn’t even signed up and they were about to handle guns?

  ‘’Twould be no harm to know what to do with a gun, I suppose,’ she whispered.

  They were ordered down to the basement, where Madame stood at the head of the room with a revolver. She held it with reverence. Once everyone had settled into stillness, she spoke.

  ‘Now pay attention. The gun is a powerful weapon. You must, at all times, respect it. Failure to do so will result in immediate expulsion from Na Fianna. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Yes, Madame.’

  ‘Louder, boys.’

  ‘Yes, Madame,’ they shouted.

  ‘That’s more like it. Now, let us begin.’

  She showed them the best stance to take and how to aim. Then she herself took aim and fired. She hit the centre of the target, turned and looked at them.

  ‘That is the accuracy you will learn in Na Fianna.’

  ‘Isn’t she fierce?’ whispered the boy beside Daniel.

  That is exactly what she was.

  ‘She learned to shoot growing up on her father’s estate in Sligo,’ the boy said knowledgeably.

  Everyone seemed to know something about Madame. She seemed to Daniel to be an almost mythical creature so wild were the stories.

  ‘All right, I would like you all to form a line,’ she ordered now.

  Automatically, Daniel and Maggie made for the back. Before they reached it though, Daniel heard his name.

  ‘Daniel Healy?’

  He stopped and turned.

  Madame was approaching at a clip. ‘It is you! What a wonderful surprise! And who do we have here?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘Eh, this is my brother, Ruairí.’

  Maggie tipped her head down.

  ‘Timid little chap. Well, let’s see what he’s made of.’ With a hand to each of their backs, Madame steered them to the front of the line.

  She placed the revolver, cold and heavy, into Daniel’s hand.

  ‘Off you go,’ she said cheerfully.

  He wished for time to slow, rewind even, so that he could take stock.

  Madame began to tap her foot.

  Daniel faced the target. He tried to remember all that she had said about firing. He took aim. Then he cast aside the instructions and simply squeezed the trigger.

  Madame laughed. ‘That was your first time firing a weapon?’

  He nodded, stunned.

  ‘Take another shot,’ she ordered, eyes fixed on the target as if she expected another direct hit.

  It was what she got.

  Maggie stared at him.

  He shrugged.

  ‘Bravo!’ Madame exclaimed, taking the gun from him and handing it to his timid brother. ‘Let’s hope it runs in the family.’

  Maggie took up position, spread her legs, took aim. And fired.

  Madame shook her head and lit a cigarette. ‘Incredible.’

  Maggie had hit the centre of the target.

  ‘It’s always the quiet ones,’ the countess said when Maggie’s second shot also found its mark. She put her hand out for the gun.

  Walking to the back of the line, Maggie nudged Daniel with an elbow. He nudged her back. He could not believe it. Perhaps shooting was easy. Perhaps everyone else would have equal success.

  Patrick arrived beside them. ‘Not bad for a pair of toffs.’

  Daniel met his eye. ‘You must be in awe of Madame then, a toff and a woman.’

  He laughed in surprise. ‘Well. Madame is exceptional.’ Had any of the other boys said it, it would have been a compliment.

  ‘By the way, that girl you were with, last time, Tom Gilligan’s sister? The mouth on her.’

  ‘Lippy enough, all right,’ Daniel said, trying not to smile. ‘But she has her own unique charm.’

  ‘She kept it well hidden, I can tell you.’

  ‘Lippy, am I?’ Maggie said as soon as they’d left the building – but she was smiling.

  ‘Maybe not that lippy– you managed to stay quiet.’

  ‘I managed to not kill him.’

  He smiled. ‘An achievement given what a good shot you are.’

  ‘Must have been luck.’

  ‘You were incredible.’

  ‘Well then, so were you.’

  ‘We were both incredible.’

  They laughed, in bafflement. Then Daniel grew serious. ‘Had you heard of the Penal Laws?’

  She nodded. ‘But not through school where they teach British history. My brothers go to St Enda’s where they learn everything Irish – the history, the language, the music. David fills me in.’

  ‘It’s hard to believe.’

  ‘Not when you consider how they still treat us.’

  ‘Well, how they treat the poor.’

  ‘And those who buck against them.’

  ‘As we’ll be doing. Are you certain you want to join, Maggie? You could still change your mind.’

  She raised an eyebrow and mounted her bicycle.

  They cycled in silence for a while. He thought about his father. ‘Any bright ideas what I’ll tell my parents I’m doing in the evenings?’

  ‘The truth?’

  He laughed. ‘You don’t know my father.’

  ‘I’d like to.’

  ‘That would not be a good idea.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘For one thing, he believes girls to be a distraction.’

  ‘Ah, but I’m a boy.’

  He smiled. ‘There’s something else. You were right about him. He is a lawyer.’

  She laughed. ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Honestly. So, as I say, I’ll need an excuse. A good one.’

  She frowned as she cycled. Then she turned to him. ‘The Gaelic League!’

  He looked at her blankly.

  ‘Do you know nothing of your country?’

  ‘It seems not.’ What else was he ignorant of? He needed to know. He did not wish to walk the earth a fool.

  ‘The Gaelic League is an organisation that teaches all things Irish – language, history, music.’

  ‘Is it legal?’

  She laughed. ‘It is. It’s educational.’

  ‘He still ma
y not agree to it.’

  ‘Just inform him that you’re doing it.’

  It was his turn to laugh. ‘Is that your approach?’

  ‘It is. Try it. He might surprise you.’

  ‘All right. I’ll try,’ he said, though his father was not a man for surprises.

  Maggie looked thoughtful. ‘If you’re in the Gaelic League, you’d better know a few stories.’

  ‘Stories?’

  ‘Legends – like how Cú Chulainn got his name.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph.’

  He laughed. And so all the way home, he learned of a boy who killed a hound, brothers who were turned into swans by their evil stepmother and a student who received all the wisdom of the world from a salmon. The more he heard, the more he wanted to know. He had always considered himself Irish. Only now was he beginning to learn what that meant.

  His father was in the drawing room, reading, as usual. Normally, Daniel would have chosen his moment. Now, he couldn’t wait. He took a deep breath – and Maggie’s advice.

  ‘Father, I’ve joined the Gaelic League.’

  He looked up from The Irish Times. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I’ve joined the Gaelic League.’

  ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘We are Irish, Father,’ Daniel said, surprised by how irritated he felt.

  The man looked genuinely confused. ‘I hope you’re not becoming a republican,’ he joked.

  Daniel decided against asking about the Penal Laws. He took his history book from out of his schoolbag and began to flick through it. How had he never noticed? There was no Irish history. None. It was the history of the British Empire. But then, until he had met Maggie, he had, like his father, blindly accepted that he was part of that empire.

  He thought about everything that had been said at the meeting. His reality had not been the reality. To him, poverty had simply existed. Instead, it had been manufactured to control a people. The thought horrified and infuriated him in equal measure. It made him want something he had never considered until now – Ireland’s freedom from British rule. It did not, however, make him want to take up arms. He had joined Na Fianna for Maggie. Not to fight.