by Anna King
He had boarded a ship for home as soon as possible after receiving Rory’s telegram. Luckily they had docked that same day in Italy. Another few days and the ship would have been heading for the Caribbean. But despite his best efforts, he had arrived too late.
Looking into Annie Flynn’s terrified eyes, he lowered his, unable to meet her gaze. Instead he continued heaping recriminations on his own head. If only he had arrived back even a few hours earlier, he could have prevented the tragedy that was going on behind him. But one thing was certain: if any of the Flynn men had suffered serious injury, or even, God forbid, death, then he would personally see that his son was handed over to the full power of the law on a charge of manslaughter.
‘Mister Hunter?’
Matthew’s head shot up.
‘Yes, Mrs Flynn?’
‘Should ye be working so hard in your condition, sir? ’Tis good of ye to try and help get me men out, but sure an’ there’s no point in putting yourself at risk.’ She paused to wet her lips again. ‘I know ’twas your son who caused all this…’ She waved an arm listlessly around the site. ‘Me son Pat told us all what was going on. So… so, whatever happens, Mister Hunter, I’ll be laying no blame at your door. Me husband and sons have always held ye in high regard, sir. So don’t be taking it all on your shoulders, ’cos like I said, I know ’twas no fault of yours.’
Hearing the soft Irish lilt pardoning him from all guilt, even though she still didn’t know if her family was dead or alive, brought about an unbearable wave of humbleness in him; but instead of bringing him some solace, it only served to make him heap further recriminations upon his own head.
Then a shout rang out, and Matthew Hunter pushed all other thoughts from his mind.
‘I’ll go and see what’s happening, Mrs Flynn. You stay here. I’ll be right back, I give you my word.’
Again the two women were on their feet, holding on to each other for dear life. Their heads craned to see better, they heard a joyful shout.
‘He’s alive, he’s alive!’
Annie and Josie clasped hands. Ignoring Matthew Hunter’s words, they hurried forward. At first neither woman could recognise who the man was because of the dirt and dust that covered his body. Then Annie moved closer, wiping his face with her skirt.
‘Ah, Pat, thank the Lord. Are ye all right, son? Where’s the others, Pat?’
A nurse and doctor appeared out of nowhere and instructed the men to lay Pat on one of the stretchers lying ready on the ground.
Unwilling to let her son from her sight, Annie hovered close as the doctor examined the still body. Then Pat began to cough, loud, harsh coughs that seemed to rack his body.
‘There now, lie still, Mr Flynn. You’ve got a lungful of dust and your body’s taken a battering, but you’ll live.’ Twisting his head, the doctor said to Annie, ‘You’re his mother.’
‘Yes, I am. Will he be all right, Doctor?’ The doctor winced as Annie’s hand dug into his arm. ‘He’s not long been out of hospital. He was badly beaten up…’
Gently prising Annie’s hand from his arm, he said, ‘I know, Mrs Flynn. I’m one of the doctors who looked after him. Believe me, your son’s a strong man. He’ll be fine after a couple of days’ rest. But I’m going to admit him to hospital for tonight, just as a precaution.’
Annie peered into the young face, but couldn’t remember him from when Pat had been in hospital. Then again, all she had been concerned with at the time was her son.
‘Mum?’ Pat’s voice rang out. ‘Is that you, Mum?’
‘Aye, lad, ’tis me. Now don’t fret yourself, you’re going to be fine. The doctor says so.’
The doctor motioned two orderlies to take the stretcher to one of the waiting ambulance carts.
Annie walked alongside the men until Pat was lifted into the cart, her hand tightly entwined with her son’s. There was a question on her lips, but she dared not ask it. She didn’t have to, for Pat asked it for her.
‘Where’s me dad… and the others? Are they all right?’
‘I’ll have to close the doors, love.’ One of the orderlies was gently pushing her aside. Loath to leave her son, Annie bravely mustered up a watery smile.
‘They’ll be fine, lad. Ye just worry about yourself. Your dad and the others will be along soon.’
Then the doors closed. The last sight she had of Pat was the fear etched on his dirt-stained face.
As the ambulance pulled away, Annie’s legs would have buckled if Josie, who had been by her side all along, hadn’t caught hold of her.
‘Come on, Mum.’ The affectionate term came back to her lips naturally, and Josie knew she would never again call this brave, wonderful woman by any other name. ‘There’s nothing you can do ’ere. Let’s get back, maybe they’ve found one of the others.’
Bemused, Annie could only hang on to Josie, letting herself be led by the hand like a child. Looking back, Josie saw the crowd of onlookers and bit down the desire to scream at them, tell them to go away, tell them anything that would get rid of them, but she knew such a gesture would be futile. Besides, she told herself, most of them were genuinely concerned for the lives of the men still buried.
Another shout galvanised both women into action. Running as fast as they could on the uneven site ground, they came to a halt as another body was lifted from the rubble. This time Annie recognised the man straight away. With a joyful cry she stumbled towards him.
‘Paddy! Oh, Paddy me darlin’. Speak to me, Paddy, say something, please.’ She looked down into the blue eyes of her husband and sent up another prayer of thanks. If both Paddy and Pat were alive, then surely Rory and Shaun must be as well.
‘Will ye stop your gabbling, woman. Begod! Will ye give me no peace, even on me deathbed,’ Paddy said tiredly.
Annie crossed herself in agitation.
‘Jasus, Paddy, don’t be saying a thing like that, not even in a joke.’
Again she was pushed aside while the doctor made a cursory examination, then he gave a nod of assent.
‘You must have the luck of the Irish, Mrs Flynn, and here was me thinking it was just another fable.’ He smiled warmly at Annie. ‘I can’t find anything broken, but I’ll get him to the hospital anyway. I’m sure your son will be pleased to see him.’
Knowing the doctor was right, Annie reluctantly released Paddy’s hand. Bending over him, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
‘I’ll see ye later, Paddy. God bless.’
Paddy tried to sit up, but the effort was too much for him and he sank back on the stretcher. But though his body was weak, he still had the power of speech.
‘The others, Annie. Our lads. Are they out?’
Swallowing hard, Annie answered, ‘Pat’s already on his way to the hospital. The men are getting Rory and Shaun out now.’ It was a small lie, but it did the trick. Paddy’s body relaxed and his eyes closed in sleep.
All this time Josie had been close by. Now she was sure Paddy was safe, her gaze drifted back to the rubble and the men tirelessly pulling away the crumbling bricks as quickly as they dared without disturbing what was left standing of the block of flats.
As she watched, they stopped digging and the man at the front of the line held up a hand. Everyone held their breath. The man resumed his task, then stopped and peered down into the rubble. This time there was no joyous shout, just a dejected swing of his head.
Josie closed her eyes tight shut, not wanting to see any more. Wishing she was anywhere but here. Here, where the bodies of Shaun and Rory had yet to be pulled out.
‘Josie! Josie love, what’s happened?… Tell me, what’s happened?’ Annie was pulling at Josie’s arm, her voice rising, unable to look herself.
A silence had fallen. Fear and despair hung heavily in the spring air, the atmosphere so strong it was almost palpable.
‘Go and look, Josie love, please.’ Annie was standing, her face pale, her eyes tightly shut. ‘G’wan, me darlin’. Go and see for me. I’ll… I’ll wait here till
ye come back.’
Josie looked again to where the men were peering down into the rubble. They appeared to be discussing their next course of action, but no move was being made to bring anyone else up.
She began to walk forward, her steps slow and faltering. Men glanced at her then quickly looked away, their silence speaking volumes. She walked on, her breath held in check, her heart hammering so hard she felt it would burst through her chest. And all the time she was inching nearer and nearer that awful hole in the ground, and she didn’t want to see; didn’t want to know what lay down there. She had a sudden irrational urge to pick up her skirt and flee. To run from this dreadful place, and keep on running until she could run no more.
‘’Ere, Josie. ’Ang on to me, love. That’s it, I’ve got yer.’
Josie felt a strong arm around her shoulders and let herself slump against a broad chest. Glancing up, she saw Barney Hobbs’ face hovering over her, and she clung to him. She would have held on to the devil himself rather than face that walk alone.
Then they were at the spot. Josie saw one of the men look at Barney and shake his head, and the emotions she had held in check for Annie’s sake suddenly overwhelmed her. Her whole body convulsed, a rush of tears spurted from her eyes, and she thought she was choking, for there seemed to be a huge lump in her throat that was preventing her from breathing. She felt rather than saw Barney lean over to look down into the gaping hole, then she heard him whisper, ‘God Almighty!’ She felt his grip tighten around her, and still she refused to open her eyes.
After what seemed an eternity, but was only a few seconds, Barney spoke again.
‘What yer waiting for? Why ain’t yer getting ’em out?’
A voice Josie didn’t recognise answered, ‘We can’t get one out without the other, it’s too dangerous. Look! That section of roof is right over the pair of ’em. If we try to separate ’em, the whole lot could come down.’
‘Well, what the fucking ’ell yer gonna do? Just sit there looking at them all day?’
‘Look, mister, we’re doing the best we can. If either of them are still alive, they won’t be for long if that lot comes down. If you’ve got any ideas, let us know, otherwise bugger off and let us get on with it.’ The angry voice was tinged with desperation.
Barney bit down hard on his bottom lip and murmured, ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean to sound off.’
Josie heard the exchange and felt a leap of hope rise in her. Slowly opening her eyes, she braced herself and looked down, and what she saw brought a gasp of horror to her lips.
Lying motionless at the bottom of the chasm were two bodies, one on top of the other as if the upper man had tried to shield the man underneath. Both were smothered in chalky dust, but Josie would have known them anywhere. What she couldn’t distinguish was which was Rory and which was Shaun. It was too much. With a moan of sheer hopelessness, she turned her face into Barney’s chest. Then her mind, unable to cope with the horror of it all, shut down and she felt herself slipping away into darkness – and she didn’t fight it. She let herself go, grateful to have the traumatic scene wiped from her mind.
* * *
Watching from a distance, Annie saw Josie being carried in Barney Hobbs’ arms. She looked on as he laid Josie tenderly on a stretcher before taking his jacket off and joining the rescue crew. She stood alone, just watching the comings and goings as if she was looking down from on high. It was only when she saw a body being lifted out that she finally moved.
It was less than a minute’s walk, but to Annie it was the longest journey of her life. The still body was lowered on to a stretcher, the same doctor kneeling on the ground beside it. Then he shook his head and covered the man with a blanket. Almost at the same time, the last man was pulled out and there was a frantic scuffle as the remainder of the building came crashing down, filling in the hole with such force it rocked the nearest men off their feet.
At last Annie was staring down at her two lads. One whose face was covered with a blanket, and the other who was showing no sign of life.
‘Mrs Flynn, I’m so very, very sorry.’ Matthew Hunter was standing by her side, his face and hands filthy, as were the rest of the brave men who had risked their lives to get her men out of the collapsed building.
Annie couldn’t answer. She couldn’t speak. Even her eyes were bone dry. Men moved aside, unable to do any more, their heads hung low, some with tears slowly rolling down grimy faces, leaving oddly shaped streaks of clean skin in their wake.
As if in a dream, she went to the uncovered man first. The doctor, his face solemn now, saw her and got to his feet. And, like Matthew Hunter, he too spoke his condolences, but Annie was no longer listening. She stood between the two stretchers, her eyes resting on the man nearest. Then she saw his chest move, and she swayed on her feet. Unknown men’s arms reached out to her, but she quickly steadied herself without their help.
Glazed blue eyes stared up at her, and from cracked lips the man asked, ‘Mum! Are the others all right?’ And once again Annie was forced to lie.
‘Aye… Yes, lad, they’re fine. Rest now,’ she murmured soothingly, her cold hands stroking his face.
This time she didn’t accompany the stretcher to the ambulance. Instead she slowly knelt down by the body covered by a blanket. The men began to walk away, their shoulders hunched over, their heads down.
Annie tenderly drew back the blanket and gazed down at the dead face of her son; her beautiful child, her child whose laugh she would never hear again. Her son who would never again come through the back yard shouting for his dinner, a loving smile on his face. Nor would she ever again see the cheeky smile that had always made her want to reach out and grab him to her.
‘He was a very brave man, Mrs Flynn.’ Matthew Hunter was kneeling by her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘He must have thrown himself over Rory to protect him. They were pinned down under piles of bricks, which indicates they must have taken the brunt of the fall. If Shaun hadn’t… Well, Rory would probably be dead too. He must have loved his brother very much.’
‘You’re right enough there, sir. From the day he could crawl, Shaun followed our Rory everywhere he went, bless his little heart. But Rory didn’t mind; even though he moaned sometimes, he loved his little brother as much as Shaun loved him…’
Her voice broke and she turned and pulled the lifeless body into her arms, rocking him back and forth as she had done when he was a baby. Then she began to sing a lullaby, her chin resting on top of Shaun’s head. Her face dreamy, she crooned softly, a smile on her lips, while those around looked on nervously.
A few feet away, Josie lay in a deep faint, watched over by a solemn Barney Hobbs, himself caught up in his own thoughts.
To the many onlookers, the pitiful scene appeared like a photograph, so still were the participants. It was only when the orderlies tried to take Shaun away from Annie that the spell was broken. Clutching the body of her youngest son tight to her bosom, Annie struggled to keep hold of him.
‘Away with ye, let him be, I say. Let him be.’
The nurse tried to prise Annie’s arms from around Shaun and was sent flying by a back-handed slap. Then the doctor took charge. Directing the orderlies to remove the body, he and the nurse coaxed and pleaded with Annie to let Shaun go. But she hung on to her child as if her own life depended on it, screaming wildly, ‘Let us be, let us be. Ye’ll not be taking me baby child away from me, ye divils. Sure and he’s only sleeping, aren’t ye, Shaun darling? Ye’ve always liked your sleep, haven’t ye, son? Ye take no mind of them. Your mother’s here, lad. I’ll not let them take ye away from me. Ye rest now, Shaun… ye rest, me sweet, precious, darling son… No!… No! Leave us be, I tell ye. Leave us be!’
It was the screaming that roused Josie. Her eyes fluttered, then opened wide as she was forced to accept that this was no nightmare; it was real, and Annie needed her help now more than ever before. A hand helped her to her feet, and once more she felt a spark of hope that all this was indeed a
dream. For surely if it was real she wouldn’t be standing here arm in arm with Barney Hobbs. Then she was again distracted by a loud wail of sorrow, the awful sound similar to that a wounded animal would make when caught in a trap. She swung round to see where the sound was coming from and saw a policeman, doctor and nurse trying to take a man’s body away from a demented Annie.
At last the doctor, knowing Annie was hysterical with grief, fetched a bottle of laudanum from his bag, and while the policeman and the nurse held on grimly to the grief-stricken woman, he put a few drops of the liquid on to a swab and held it over Annie’s mouth. Within seconds her struggle abated until finally she slumped over, dead to the world.
Josie’s eyes flickered from Annie to the lifeless body being carried away by the two orderlies. Her first instinct was to run to Annie’s side to comfort her as best she could. But she had to know whose body it was on the stretcher.
Turning to face Barney, she asked fearfully, ‘Who’s on that stretcher, Barney?’
Barney tried to avoid her eyes, but she wasn’t to be put off so easily. Gripping him by the collar of his shirt, she demanded, ‘I know it’s either Rory or Shaun. Which one is it? Damn it, Barney, tell me. Don’t let me have to go over on me own.’
‘It’s Shaun, Josie. I’m sorry. I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I am,’ Barney spoke in hushed tones. ‘I know me and the Flynns ’ave never been what yer might call friends, but I respected them… all of them; even Rory.’ His arm went around her once again. ‘Come on, love, I’ll take yer ’ome, or to the ’ospital. Wherever yer want, I’ll take yer. Just say the word.’
Josie tried to speak, but her throat was too full. Instead she patted Barney’s arm and walked over to the stretcher.
