The Last Crossing

by Brian McGilloway

  She stood, her head bowed, her cheeks registered colour for the first time since he had seen her as she blushed with shame. She did not touch the money.

  ‘Listen, Alice,’ he said, hunkering down in front of her, the glass thermometers in his pockets jutting awkwardly through the cloth of his jacket at one end, jabbing into his knee at the other. She raised her head a little, looked him in the eye. ‘Us Irish ones need to stick together. I’m famished and I’m heading to the canteen for my lunch. I’ll be buying two plates of chips. If you don’t help me eat them, I’m going to turn into a fat pig!’

  Despite herself, the girl giggled at his comment.

  ‘Now come on. What do you think? Chips?’

  Alice nodded and, for a second, Tony felt a pang of something twist inside him. He wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, ruffle her hair, do something to let her know she was not alone.

  In the end, he stood and nudged her playfully with his arm. ‘Don’t forget to take your insulin. Then I’ll race you to see who’s finished their dinner first.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Duggan finished his meal first, then sat back, his arms folded across his stomach as he waited for the others. Karen was still picking at hers. Despite claiming she was famished when the food arrived, she’d cut it into pieces and rearranged it on the plate rather than eating it. Tony thought he understood now how she’d managed to stay so trim. As he wiped up the last of the egg yolk with the corner of his toast, he was aware of his own belly, the pressure of the table edge against it as he ate. Almost instinctively, he breathed in a little, aware of the futility of the gesture even as he did it.

  ‘What are your kids called?’ he asked and, for a second, imagined he saw a flicker of something darken her expression. Was she annoyed at him asking about them? Or that he had done so in front of the others? Despite the time they’d already spent in each other’s company, none of them had offered anything too personal to the conversation, as if they were skirting around each other. Too much time had passed, he decided, for them to know where to start to catch up with the others. And of course, what had united them thirty years earlier, what had driven them to kill and bury someone together, he considered a little ruefully, had long since passed.

  ‘Desmond and Daniel,’ she said a little stiffly, annunciating each syllable.

  ‘Daniel or Danny?’ Tony asked with a smile.

  ‘Danny to me,’ she said. ‘Daniel to everyone else.’ Her back was erect, her posture frozen in the moment of gathering food onto her fork.

  ‘Danny’s a good name,’ Tony said, thinking of his brother.

  She nodded, her eyes dropping from his face to the space between them, as if for the first time she realised the connection between them that the name had created.

  ‘So’s Daniel,’ Barr said. ‘Daniel O’Connell.’

  She managed a brittle smile at the comment. Hugh, for his part, did not engage in the conversation.

  ‘Have you family, Hugh?’

  ‘Two ex-wives,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Karen said.

  Hugh held up his hand. ‘Don’t be. I’m not. You know they say marriage is an institution. Well, I’d rather not be institutionalised.’

  They all smiled lightly at the joke they’d all heard before, except Barr, who seemed to echo Hugh’s words, the punchline forming silently on his lips before he laughed and clapped his hands. Tony glanced at Karen who’d turned her attention to the contents of her plate again.

  ‘What about you, Richard?’

  Barr snorted. ‘I’m only twenty-one,’ he said.

  ‘You’re still pretty much a kid yourself,’ Karen commented.

  Tony looked at the young man. His features were defined, his eyes clear, his skin supple, still marked in places with acne along his throat.

  ‘You weren’t even born then,’ he said, softly. ‘When Martin died.’

  Barr nodded. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Why in God’s name would you want to be part of it now?’

  Duggan, his arms still folded, leaned forward. ‘The young fella’s doing his bit for the country. Like we all did. At one stage.’

  Barr nodded, emboldened by Duggan’s endorsement. ‘What Hugh said earlier. It’s my duty.’

  ‘Were you alive when the Agreement was signed?’

  ‘About six months before,’ Barr said, a little defiantly.

  ‘And you don’t think that what’s happened after it is better than what went before?’

  ‘For who?’ Duggan asked.

  ‘For all of us?’

  Duggan shook his head. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘People died so that Agreement could be reached,’ Barr said. ‘It justified their sacrifices.’

  ‘Like Martin Kelly’s sacrifice?’ Tony asked.

  ‘Have you gone soft in your old age?’ Duggan hissed. ‘He knew what would happen to him. We all did.’

  ‘Peace happened because of politics. In spite of violence, not because of it,’ Tony said.

  ‘Violence is politics,’ Duggan snapped.

  ‘Not my kind.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  Duggan’s question was asked almost with a smirk, as if he knew something that Tony had not yet realised.

  ‘To do right by Kelly’s family,’ Tony said carefully, aware that that was not entirely truthful. Not for him at least.

  ‘Why are we here? Duggan asked, nudging Barr with his shoulder.

  ‘To help recover–’

  ‘No,’ Duggan said. ‘Why are we really here?’

  Tony felt his own gaze falter under the intensity of Duggan’s, but could not let himself look away now. His stomach stirred and seemed to drop as his breath caught.

  ‘We need a goodwill gesture,’ Barr said finally. ‘Negotiations with the other side have stalled and this would be a sweetener. It could help move things along.’

  Duggan smiled, slyly. ‘That’s not the only reason, is it?’

  Barr looked at him blankly.

  ‘Uncle Sean is going for the leadership of the party, too,’ Duggan said. ‘Some of the moderates have a problem with his past. They want a goodwill gesture.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Tony asked, looked at Barr.

  The youth returned his look, guileless, then nodded.

  ‘Can we drop this?’ Karen said. She had not spoken in a few minutes so they were all surprised by her intervention now. She looked down at her plate, her voice soft and without emotion.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘We were used thirty years ago,’ she said. ‘We’re being used again now.’ She put down her knife and fork and pushed her plate from her. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘I’m not hungry, thanks,’ Karen said.

  They were standing in a kitchen near Parkhead. Duggan had made good on his promise to engineer a second meeting between them after Tony had delivered the thermometers to him, as agreed. Tony had tried to restart the acquaintance with the offer of a drink, which she accepted, and some peanuts from a single desultory bowl sitting on the counter, which she’d refused.

  ‘Besides, do you know how many people have put their dirty paws into the middle of that?’

  Tony put the bowl back, took another draught from the can he held.

  ‘No wine tonight?’ Karen said, nodding at his drink.

  ‘You were right,’ he said. ‘I felt awful the day after that last night out.’

  She sipped her own wine and glanced around the room. ‘I don’t know anyone here,’ she said. ‘Apart from you. And Hugh, wherever he is.’

  ‘He’s not here,’ Tony said, a little bewildered. Hugh had told him Karen was going to this party and he’d invited Tony along. Now, he suspected that wasn’t entirely true.

  ‘Did you take the bus?’ Tony asked, immediately regretting the stupidity of it.

  Karen nodded. ‘It took for ever. There was a bomb scare in the city centre,’ she said.

  �
�Here?’ Bomb scares had been a feature of daily life in the North, a vague distraction or a major inconvenience depending on where the bomb was planted. For a while, the favoured target had been the city’s bridge, which meant that traffic from one half of the city could not reach the other, further splitting an already divided city in half.

  The sound of cheering from the living area of the flat caused them both to turn to see Hugh Duggan come in, blue bags of beer raised in his two hands. As he made his way through the room towards the kitchen, acknowledging Karen and Tony with a wink, some of the partygoers slapped him on the back.

  ‘He’s popular,’ Tony said.

  ‘Glad one of us is,’ Karen said.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  She nodded, leaning towards him, placing her hand on his arm, her little finger electrifying the skin of his wrist where it touched just past the cuff of his shirt. ‘These types of places make me uneasy,’ she said.

  ‘Parties?’

  She shrugged. Tony looked around the room. The only face he recognised was Martin Kelly’s, sitting on the sofa between two Irish girls, breaking apart a cigarette. A ten spot of dope, its corner already charred, sat on the table next to a packet of Rizla papers.

  ‘Do you want to get a drink somewhere else?’ Tony asked, his body suddenly alive, his legs seeming to vibrate with the surge of nerves he felt at having asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Maybe one.’

  ‘We’re just leaving,’ Tony said, as Hugh made his way into the kitchen, depositing the two bags on the counter with such force it sent the nut bowl’s contents scattering across the worktop and onto the linoleum floor.

  ‘Was it something I said?’ he asked, mock offended.

  ‘It’s a bit crowded,’ Tony said. ‘We’re going to head and get a drink somewhere.’

  ‘I’ll walk you out,’ Hugh said, despite the flat not being his, as far as Tony knew. ‘I want to ask you something.’

  ‘What is it?’ Tony asked. He felt Karen stiffen a little beside him.

  ‘I need to ask the two of you a favour,’ he said. ‘But we’ll take a walk first.’

  They made their way down the stairway and out into the night before Hugh spoke again.

  Now, outside, he stopped. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ he said, his voice rising over the sound of a police car siren as it sped past on its way into the city centre.’

  ‘Trouble in town,’ Karen said.

  ‘Car bomb,’ Duggan said. ‘One of the other side hiding out in Glasgow. Someone put a bomb under the engine of his car.’

  ‘Is he dead?’ Karen asked.

  ‘If he’s not, he’ll not be playing football again for sure,’ Hugh said.

  Karen shivered lightly. ‘It’s cold. Can we walk?’

  Tony motioned to take off his coat for her, as before, but she stopped him. ‘It’s grand,’ she said. ‘I just want to keep moving.’

  Hugh walked to the outside, next to Tony, Karen to the inside. ‘I need you to go for a drive this weekend.’

  ‘What?’ Tony asked.

  ‘Where?’ Karen asked, simultaneously.

  ‘Out to Paisley,’ Duggan said.

  ‘Is this something to do with your man, Martin Kelly?’ Tony asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you looking for us to move drugs for you?’ he asked, whispering the words.

  Hugh laughed. ‘Jesus, no. I want you to go for a drive to Paisley. Take a walk, get some dinner. There’s a nice restaurant there; Watson’s. I’ve booked dinner for the two of you for eight o’clock on Saturday.’

  Tony glanced at Karen, then back to Hugh. ‘What the fuck?’ he asked. Arranging to have them both at a party was one thing, but booking dinner for them was too much.

  Duggan said. ‘Park the car in the rear car park and leave it unlocked. When your dinner’s finished, bring it back into Glasgow. Pick it up and leave it back in the car park of the old church down past Bellgrove station. It’ll be unlocked, with the key under the mat on the driver’s side. You can lock it when you come back. The person collecting it has the spare key.’

  ‘Listen, Hugh,’ Tony said. ‘I’m not sure–’

  Duggan stopped, gripped his arm. ‘Do you remember the fucker who drove over your brother? Do you remember that?’

  Tony nodded, compelled to agree by the vehemence of Hugh’s tone.

  ‘Then we need to help shift stuff across. We’ve taken a bit of a hit to the supply chain recently.’

  ‘I don’t know how to–’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Duggan said. ‘Go for dinner, have a drink, drive home. Leave the car. That’s all.’

  Tony looked across at Karen who was staring at Duggan.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked her.

  ‘Why not?’ she said. ‘Dinner would be nice.’

  ‘Why us?’

  ‘A young couple in love is more normal than me sitting on my own for two hours and then driving back here again. Besides, people know my face; youse two are so young and sweet no one will look twice at the pair of you.’

  Tony took a breath, considered his choices. The idea of an evening with Karen appealed to him much more than the thought of them carrying whatever they would be carrying frightened him.

  ‘That night you were lifted, you told me you wanted to see someone answer for Danny. Other people agreed, volunteered. Everyone plays their part: some are more active, risk their lives; some have dinner and drive a car back into town again.’

  Tony felt Karen’s hand briefly take his, giving it a squeeze of encouragement.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘It’ll be nice.’

  He felt something stirring deep inside him at her touch and the excitement of what they were going to do together. The clandestine nature of it. The visceral nature of what he hoped it might lead to. He tightened his grip on hers a moment but, when he released it, she let his hand go.

  They went to a bar in the centre of town. The place was busy, though the night air was alive with the sound of sirens. It struck Tony that, having been so used to them at home, he’d become accustomed to their absence here in Scotland.

  Karen seemed more at ease now, sitting forward in her seat, both hands cradling her glass. She wore a dark green, short-sleeved dress, long and belted at the waist, and a pair of brown workman’s boots. Her legs crossed, Tony was aware each time her foot touched his leg under the table; indeed, conspired for it to happen.

  ‘Hugh says your brother died recently,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. That’s terrible.’

  Tony shrugged. ‘My dad was shattered by it. You know the way you always think you’re your parents’ favourite – well, maybe you don’t, but I did. I realised after Danny died that he was. Dad just sort of crumpled when it happened. Even when the cops arrested us the night of the funeral, he didn’t fight back. They had to drag me down the stairs.’

  ‘That’s when you met Hugh?’

  Tony nodded.

  ‘How’s your dad now?’

  ‘Alive,’ Tony joked. ‘But Danny was his favourite; it’ll kill him eventually.’

  Karen sat back a little, as if stung by something Tony had said.

  ‘So, were you the favourite at home?’

  Karen nodded, her eyes glinting in the light from the bar. ‘I’m an only child, so I was both their favourites. My mum died when I was ten so me and Dad were so close growing up. He did everything for me.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your mum.’

  Karen smiled sadly. ‘Dad tried his best to be both mother and father, but it all got a bit mad for him. The whole time of the month thing just broke him, having to go into a supermarket to buy tampons. He handed me the box, made some piss-poor explanation of why it was happening and left me to figure out the rest. I had to ask my friend’s mum to explain it to me properly.

  ‘Must have been a nightmare for any boyfriends,’ Tony laughed.

  ‘Not really. He just showed them his shotgun and they behaved themselves,’ she said,
laughing lightly.

  ‘Does he miss you over here? Tony asked.

  She shook her head. ‘He’s dead now. That’s when I moved across.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Tony said, rewinding the conversation in his head, wincing at every comment, which, in the light of this, seemed now crassly insensitive.

  She shook her head. ‘Can we go? I need a breath of fresh air.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘I need a breath of air,’ Karen said, standing. ‘Excuse me.’

  The three men watched her leave, Tony rising slightly in his seat as she stood.

  ‘She’s not changed,’ Duggan said. ‘She was always half-hearted about it.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Tony said, a little more defensively than he’d intended. ‘She was the one convinced me to help you with that first run to Paisley.’

  ‘What run?’

  ‘You sent us to a restaurant in Paisley, told us leave the car open and then bring it back again. She was the one convinced me that night.’

  ‘She’d nothing to do with it.’

  ‘We were at a party. We were leaving when you arrived and you walked us out. You asked us to drive to Paisley. I wasn’t sure, but she agreed to it, convinced me to do it.’