The House by the Liffey

by Niki Phillips

  Being so good-looking Bill was often the target of female interest, something he had been accustomed to from his teenage years. But while he enjoyed the company of the girls, and even flirted gently with them, he had never ever stepped out of line with his vows. However, being a normal red-blooded man, he was not by any means immune to feeling the appeal of members of the opposite sex and, during his brief stay in Cyprus, he was put to the test in a big way when he found himself strongly attracted to a very beautiful Cypriot girl.

  He met Androulla at a social function hosted by one of the UN groups to which some of the Irish contingent had been invited. Local dignitaries had also been invited, including Androulla’s father who was a member of the Greek Cypriot Government. She had characteristic Mediterranean dark eyes and hair and a perfect smooth, olive complexion. She was also highly intelligent and Bill found her extremely good company with her quick-fire repartee, a ready wit and an impressive knowledge of current local and worldwide politics. She had recently completed her studies to be a lawyer at the new University of Warwick, so it was no surprise that her English was perfect, spoken with a delightful trace of a foreign accent, which added to her attraction. She appealed to him powerfully, both emotionally and intellectually, more than any other girl he could remember and he quickly picked up the fact that she was responding to him in the same way.

  The evening came to an end and Bill had spent more time with Androulla than protocol would have dictated. Even though he had occasionally made the supreme effort to go and mingle socially with the other guests, time and again he drifted back to her. When they were saying goodbye, in a very brief aside out of hearing of anyone else, she had made a comment that had disconcerted him:

  ‘I’m sorry that you’re a priest, Bill. I do understand what that means – it’s best if we don’t meet again.’

  He was on the verge of saying he was sorry too; of saying he’d love to meet her again, all his instincts telling him that she would readily agree to such a suggestion, but he pulled himself up short and bid her and her parents a formal farewell.

  He was so sorely tempted. Typical Butler it had taken the briefest time for him to lose his heart completely to this lovely young woman. He had never been in love before. He had found some girls extremely attractive but had never really loved any of them. Now I understand, he thought to himself. I didn’t fully appreciate before what I was sacrificing. Dad’s right. We Butlers are a virile lot and now, for the first time, I truly realise what I’ve forsworn. I’ve been so self-righteous in believing I knew what it was all about and that it wasn’t such a difficult thing to do: to forego my natural instincts. Now I’m being tested and what am I going to do? Fall at the first fence? Give up everything I believe in? Give up being a priest? But, oh God, I want her desperately, in every sense of the word. I want to be with her; spend all my time with her; to enjoy her company as much as I know I would; to have the joy of looking at her; to make love to her.

  It hurt so much. He wasn’t convinced he could withstand the temptation. He spent most of that night and was to spend many hours afterwards on his knees, in agony of mind, praying for strength and courage to honour his vows.

  More than two thousand miles away to the west Harry knew. Like the earlier generation of Butler identical twins he and Bill could feel each other’s emotions and more than anything else they could feel each other’s pain and distress. Harry couldn’t sleep a wink. He tossed and turned. He tried reading a book, but it was no good and instinctively he knew something was wrong with Bill. It came to five o’clock in the morning and he couldn’t stand the anxiety any longer. He knew that by then it would be seven o’clock there and everyone on the base in Cyprus would be up and about with many having started their day’s work. So he telephoned and asked to speak to Bill urgently, explaining that he was his brother calling from Dublin. He didn’t have long to wait, for Bill was close by having cup after cup of coffee in the dining room. Concerned that something was wrong at home, he hurried to take the call.

  ‘Hello, Harry. Is something wrong?’

  ‘Not here, Billy, but I know something’s very wrong with you – I haven’t slept a wink. What is it? Can I do anything?’

  ‘Bless you, Harry, I wish you could but it’s something I’ve got to sort myself and not something I can talk about on the phone.’

  ‘I could go out there for a few days. Perhaps just talking about it would help. Dad wouldn’t mind if I took a few days off and I needn’t say why, just that I’d like a bit of time with you out there.’

  There was a brief silence.

  ‘Bill?’

  ‘Sorry, Harry, I was thinking about your offer. You know that would be great. Regardless of my problem it would be so good to see you and would help me a lot.’

  ‘I’ll get there as soon as I can. With any luck in the next day or so.’

  Bill was vastly relieved. He had decided that he didn’t want to talk about the whole thing with anyone out there, not even a fellow cleric. Had he been at home he might have gone to Father Callaghan and unburdened himself to his old friend and mentor, but there was no one like that here. It would be such a help to have Harry, someone he knew he could trust implicitly.

  Harry arrived the next day. When he had asked, as casually as possible, for a few days leave from the office to spend a bit of time with Bill, he didn’t fool his father for a second. Milo, having watched them growing up together, knew the extraordinary telepathy between them. Maggie had told him the story of how that same closeness had saved one of the earlier generation of twins from a particularly awful death when he was buried alive in the First World War. His brother had refused to give up digging for him because he had known, by that same strange telepathic communication, that he was still alive. Now, when Harry was leaving, Milo simply said to him:

  ‘I hope you can help him, Harry, whatever the problem is.’

  Harry smiled.

  ‘We can’t hide anything from you, Dad!’

  ‘Well, not much when it comes to matters involving the closeness of you two. Anything else I wouldn’t be too sure about.’

  Having his twin there really did help Bill through the next few difficult days. Harry listened patiently while Bill talked it through and he made sympathetic comments. However, never once did he try to influence him in his decision. Womaniser that he was, in no way was he going to try to persuade his brother to walk down the same path, for he knew that the guilt he would suffer in doing so would destroy him. In any event he felt very strongly that the final decision must be Bill’s.

  They had a good time together, Harry doing everything in his power to take Bill’s mind off his worry and with some degree of success. Then the day after Harry returned home the October or “Yom Kippur” War broke out and despite their very short stay there, the Irish unit in Cyprus was transferred to the Sinai Desert, for peacekeeping duties in the area separating the Israeli and Egyptian forces. This kept Bill so preoccupied he had little time to dwell on personal problems and it built on the coping process started by his brother’s visit.

  Once they had settled into their new base, as a member of a neutral military force Bill was able to visit both countries. He had intended to visit the Holy Land while in Cyprus, but now this was even closer. Like any tourist he couldn’t have failed to find it fascinating, but as a Christian in holy orders he was deeply moved to think that all the places he was walking in had probably been trodden by Jesus Christ. He also found the sights in Egypt so interesting and had time to visit the Valley of the Kings as well as the Pyramids at Giza and the museum in Cairo, with its amazing remains of all kinds but especially those of Tutankhamun. He felt sad that it had been a war that had given him such opportunities but fully appreciated it all nevertheless.

  It took time but he recovered and was very thankful that he had managed to resist such a strong temptation to abandon his vows. However, one thing he did firmly resolve was that some day he would return to Cyprus, perhaps on leave, to stay with Tommy and fa
mily, for, like so many others who visited this magical island, he had fallen in love with it and wanted to see more. He now felt he could do that without opening up the sore spot again.

  Chapter 26

  Early in 1974 the family at Riverside heard that Isabel was expecting another child in September. At almost exactly the same time Sarah and Dai, with great delight, announced that Sarah was expecting their first child in the October. There were celebrations on both sides of the Irish Sea and all worked out well because Sarah would be able to finish the academic year and so not let down her students in mid-course. The baby would be a first grandchild in Dai’s family.

  Milo and Noola were thrilled to bits at the idea of all this expansion of the wider Butler family and Maggie and Aunt May were also highly delighted.

  ‘With Sarah and Dai living in the East Wing, at last we’ll have a grandchild living close to us. Oh, Milo, I’m so excited.’

  ‘So am I, Noola. It’ll be good to have another little one nearby and with any luck it will be the first of many trotting around Riverside again. And you know what? I’ll be able to teach him to row! I’ll get such a kick out of that.’

  ‘Interesting! You’re assuming it’ll be a boy!’

  ‘Well whichever – I’ll still be able to teach him or her to row – stop splitting hairs, Noola.’

  * * * * *

  On 17 May Sarah was hurrying along South Leinster Street, making her way towards Trinity, where she had arranged to meet Dai in the car park just inside Back Gate in Lincoln Place. Within minutes of each other, around 5.30 pm, three car bombs exploded in the heart of Dublin City, one of these in South Leinster Street. Sarah was one of many hit by the blast. She was hurled into the middle of the street, slammed into the side of a car, bounced off it and was thrown under the wheels of one coming in the opposite direction.

  Dai, waiting in the car park, heard the explosion and with many others from inside the college flew flat out towards the disaster, his heart in his mouth and praying aloud:

  ‘Please, God, don’t let my Sarah be there. Please, God, don’t.’

  He arrived at the scene of carnage and searched frantically, calling her name over and over again. Eventually he spotted her quite distinctive dress where she was lying in the middle of the street, one leg trapped under the wheel of the car and the contents of her briefcase scattered around her. She wasn’t moving but she was breathing. She was also haemorrhaging but as yet, so far as he could see, not heavily. He knew he mustn’t try to move her for fear of aggravating her injuries. He knelt down beside her and spoke to her but no response. He put his jacket over her and shouted over and over for medical help, most especially an ambulance. One of his own students heard him and, recognising the Welsh voice, made her way through the piles of debris to offer what help she could. Gemma was a determined young woman and, horrified at the sight of Sarah so badly injured, ran off and refused to give up until she got paramedics to the scene. Given the numbers of injured needing help this was a major achievement but she felt justified in pushing for help since she reckoned the only people with injuries worse than Sarah’s were dead.

  The nearest hospital was not too far away and when the ambulance got there no effort was spared to save her life. The family at Riverside received Dai’s distressed call and in a remarkably short space of time Milo and Noola arrived. They had heard about the explosions on the evening news but it never occurred to them that a family member might be caught up in the disaster. Usually by this time in the evening Sarah and Dai were home. Like Dai they were frantic and desperately anxious to speak to the doctor but Sarah was in surgery and there was nobody who could tell them anything except that they were fighting hard for her life. Once in a while somebody would come out of the operating theatre and, looking grave, would simply say they were doing their best to save her. Maggie, Harry and Izzy arrived as quickly as they could get there and the mutual support helped them all.

  After five hours the lead surgeon came to speak to them.

  ‘It’s been touch and go but we think she’s going to make it.’

  Having borne up with amazing fortitude, some of those waiting shed tears of relief. Dai spoke to the tired looking man.

  ‘Thank you and your whole team, you must all be exhausted, but we’re all so grateful. Can you give us the details? All we know is that her leg was trapped and she seemed to be haemorrhaging from several different places, including the side of her head.’

  ‘Well, first of all I’m so sorry to tell you she lost the baby, which is probably no surprise to you in the circumstances. Then we found her spleen was ruptured and we had to remove that. The rest of the time we’ve spent working on her leg. It was in a very bad way and we thought we’d have to amputate but we’ve managed to save it. Unfortunately she’ll walk with a limp for the rest of her life, but she still has the leg. Luckily the head injury was superficial – just needed a couple of stitches, so there’s no fear of brain damage. But one way and another she did lose a great deal of blood. Fortunately we had a good supply of her blood group in store.’

  There was a stunned silence while they all took in what they had been told.

  ‘So it’s likely to be a long, hard recovery?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. We’ll have to keep her in here in intensive care for as long as it takes and then we’ll need to keep a close watch on the early stages of recovery. It may be some time before she can go home again and she’ll be in a lot of pain, perhaps for a long time.’

  ‘When can we see her?’

  ‘You can certainly have a look at her, but she won’t regain consciousness for quite a while. In fact you can sit with her and wait for her to come around. It would be reassuring for her to see familiar faces when she does wake up. But I should warn you. Initially, while the anaesthetic is still working she won’t appear to be too distressed. That will come later and that’s when she’ll really need you there.’

  Only a few weeks before the explosions across the city Bill had returned from Sinai after the statutory six months of his tour of duty. Having taken end-of-tour leave he wasn’t in Dublin at the time of the explosions but cut short his holiday in Cyprus and came flying home as fast as he could when he heard what had happened to Sarah. He was a huge support to everyone and they were all so glad to have him there, especially Sarah. He didn’t care how much time he spent with her, day and night, talking to her, praying with her and giving comfort and encouragement to her and the rest of the family. While desperately upset, nevertheless, he appeared calm and utterly dependable at all times. Dai hadn’t really had a chance to get to know him previously but now developed a sincere respect and affection for this completely selfless and dedicated man.

  ‘I know how much it has meant to Sarah and the rest of the family to have you here, but you’ll never know how much it has helped me personally. I’ll never forget it, Bill.’

  ‘Thanks Dai, but she’s my much loved sister and I would have done no less. Just keep praying that she makes as full a recovery as possible.’

  Sarah did start to recover, helped by having some member of the family beside her day and night. They all wanted to help and not just visit her but take their turn in watching over her and keeping her company. She was in a private ward and the staff moved a temporary bed into the room so that whoever was there at night could get a little sleep. At first Dai refused to leave her, regardless of who else was there, but as she progressed she insisted that he went back to college and his students. Concerned colleagues had been trying to fill in for him, willingly taking on the extra workload during his absence.

  A month later Sarah was allowed to go home but only on the understanding that she had the care of qualified nurses day and night for another two weeks. She was a shadow of her former self, but she had endured and she had made it. One of the most cheering pieces of news for her and Dai was that the consultant gynaecologist said, in spite of all she’d been through, she should still be able to have children. She was so pleased that Dai felt it helped
to speed up her recovery.

  Many others who had been caught by the explosions were less fortunate. Altogether twenty-three people died instantly, a high proportion of these young women, with some bodies mutilated beyond recognition. The casualties that fateful day in May, including those of a similar bomb which exploded in Monaghan, were greater in number than on any other single day throughout the so-called “Troubles” of the twentieth century in Ireland.

  Chapter 27

  Six weeks after the car bomb attacks a well-dressed woman, wearing black and carrying a small child, arrived at the Butlers’ stockbroking office asking to speak to Harry Butler. The secretary on duty at the reception desk asked the usual question of visitors.

  ‘Have you got an appointment?’

  ‘No, but I need to speak to him urgently. Otherwise I’d like to see his father, either will do.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do. What’s your name?’

  ‘Mrs O’Connell.’

  She came back and said Mr Harry was with a client but Mr Milo Butler would see her. She was ushered into Milo’s office and he stood up to greet her, smiling at the child. Something about the little boy niggled at him.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs O’Connell. I’m Milo Butler. How can I help you?’

  ‘It was really your son I needed to see. But he’s not available, as usual.’

  This puzzled Milo.

  ‘You’ve tried before?’

  ‘Oh no. But my daughter did many, many times and he refused even to speak to her. Letters were returned unopened and never would he agree to see her in here.’

  ‘So how can I help you?’

  ‘My daughter, Marie, was killed in the bomb blast in Talbot Street in May. This little boy is hers. He’s also your son’s child.’

  Milo stared at her speechless, looked at the child and then realised what it was that had bothered him. The child could hardly have been more of a Butler. He had the black curls, exactly like his own two sons, but in this case the eyes were very dark brown, just like Noola’s and Maggie’s.