No Going Back

by Mick Moran

  ***

 

 

 

  As navvy gangers go, John Mountain was an amiable kind of man. Bullying was not his style. He had more subtle ways of motivating men. After exploring the upstairs part of the house he commented, “I expect you’ll be finished here by dinner time”.

 

  Andy nodded and recommenced scraping at the floorboards. However it would take more to get Jimmy going. Still looking out of the window he muttered, “you expect plenty”.

 

  John moved over to the window then looking over Jimmy’s shoulder observed, “Looks like Eddy’s preparing to pull down their cabin. In which case you two can finish the back-filling that Martin’s doing”.

 

  John paused, then looking at Jimmy’s back added, “instead of just watching him through the window”.

 

  Jimmy shook his head. “You’d be surprised what I see through that window”.

 

  Moving away from the window towards his shovel Jimmy winked knowingly at Andy. Andy’s suspicious glare only seemed to quietly amuse Jimmy.

  John, however, was just gazing through the window with a far away look. But Jimmy was enjoying Andy’s discomfort too much to leave it at that.

 

  “You learn a lot looking through that window. Don’t you Andy?”

 

  Andy made no reply, getting annoyed with Jimmy's games. Then following John’s gaze, which appeared to be at the completed houses, and desperate to change the subject he stuttered.

 

  “W.. we’ve done well with these houses, haven’t we”?

 

  John turned to Andy with pride. It was his favourite subject. “We’ve done very well Andy. We’ve completed a house a day on average”?

 

  Andy looked suitably impressed. Jimmy, however, just mocked.

  “A house a day; isn’t that marvellous? Even flowers growing in the garden, I suppose”.

 

  John, getting slightly annoyed at his attitude, decided to have a go at Jimmy. “They were doing the gardens of those top houses over the weekend. I saw some of your friends, policemen, move in on Friday”.

 

  John looked for Jimmy’s reaction, but it was Andy who seemed most concerned. He turned to John. “Police did you say”?

 

  But, it was Jimmy that John addressed his answer to. “I, and their families, Jimmy, I bet you’re glad this is our last week here”.

 

  “You think I care”.

 

  “You did the other week, I heard: the night you changed digs”.

 

  “I, the bastards locked me up and gave me a good hiding for nothing. They said I was trying to break into my own digs. Bloody Mary gave me the wrong key”.

 

  “Well, you were known to them. They knew where you lived”.

 

  “They knew where I used to live. I don’t have to tell them when I move”.

 

  “What time did they let you out then?"

  "Like you care. I don’t know: four or five in the morning, without a word of an apology. The bastards”.

 

  John was amused. "I'm going to see how Michael's getting on”.

 

  John left the room. Jimmy lit a cigarette and resumed his position leaning on the shovel. Andy glanced out of the window. “I wonder if it was a police dog”

 

  “Are you still worrying about that bloody dog? It’s dead and buried now”.

 

  “Martin could be in serious trouble if it was one of those trained police dogs. It was big enough you know”.

 

  “He’s gone up in my estimation if it was one of those dogs”.

 

  “But, surely they wouldn’t allow one of those dogs to wander off. Michael O’Donnell would know”.

 

  “The philosopher. That bastard knows everything.”

 

  “He’ll be in the cabin at dinner time. I wonder if we could ask him without giving away why we want to know”.

 

  “He’ll bore us to death if we get him on about dogs”.

 

  “Well, he does seem to know a great deal about them”.

 

  “He’d like us to think he does”.

 

  Andy chipped the last piece of plaster from the floorboard while giving some thought to the situation. “We’d better say no more about it. That’s the best. Just say nothing”.

 

  “That’s what I’ve been saying. It’s dead and buried now”.

 

  They both continue sweeping the floor in silence. The Andy suddenly stops.

 

  “Suppose another dog sniffs out where that dog is buried”.

 

  “Will you shut up about that bloody dog? No one knows it’s buried anywhere, so why should they bring snifter dogs round”.

 

  “If they come looking for it, they might come with dogs and if they see that drain just filled in they might suspect something and the dogs might sniff something there”.

 

  “I’m getting sick of this. Will you stop bloody worrying? It won’t happen and even if it does Martin can handle it. I bet he’s not worried”.

 

  “I wonder if I should have a word with him”.

 

  “Are you a born worrier? Look, Martin knows about the dog. We don’t know if it is a police dog. If it is then maybe there’s something to worry about. But, probably, it is not. Anyway it’s time we were going for dinner. I promise not to say a word. Looking at Martin’s face will be enough”.

 

  Andy looked through the window. “Oh Jesus! Will you look what’s down there”.

 

  “Two cops. The bastards”!

 

 

  Chapter 3. The cabin.

 

  The brew cabin fulfilled its function, barely, with few extra comforts that might tempt a man to linger longer than the allocated half an hour.

  The seats were scaffolding planks on breeze- blocks and there was a small table, on which the little gas stove, which boiled the kettle, rested. The gas stove was the only source of heat. On that cold February day it was only marginally warmer inside the cabin than it was outside. So no time was wasted removing donkey jackets. Nevertheless, the half an hour was looked forward to as a break from work and the craic.

 

  As they entered the cabin Jimmy turned to Andy. “Lend’s a brew. I was in a rush this morning.”

 

  “What’s new there then?”

 

  Michael was already in and had the kettle on the stove. “It’s self-catering this week” he informed them “Jack has already gone to the new site.”

 

  “Good” responded Jimmy “We won’t be poisoned this week then.”

 

  “Now you shouldn’t say things like that.”

 

  “Why not?”

 

  “Why not! You know well why not. You’d get a man hung. Saying

  He boiled his socks in the kettle. Now that was malicious.”

 

  “You believe what you want. I know what I saw.”

 

  Martin was next in followed by John Mountin who had a question to ask.

  “The cops have lost a dog. Any of you see a brown Alsatian?”

  There was shaking of heads all round. Then Andy asked

  “Was it a police dog?”

 

  “They didn’t say. They were very concerned about it though.”

 

  “Oh
! They would be.” Agreed Michael “If it was one of those trained police dogs the handler should never let it out of his sight. He’ll be in deep trouble if his superiors find out that he’s let it wander off.”

 

  “Why is that?” Asks Andy.

 

  Michael drew on his pipe pleased that an interest was being shown. “Well the dog is trained so it will only respond to its handler. It won’t obey anyone else. That’s why they must stay together all the time. If anything happens to the handler, they say, the dog has to be put down.”

 

  “This gets better all the time.” Jimmy laughed. “And if anything happens to the dog do they put the cop down? No wonder they were worried; the bastards.”

 

  “Now you’re being silly again”

 

  John laughed, and then he looked puzzled, as the rest remained silent.

  “Well, we’re all in a jolly mood this morning.” “You know a bit about training dogs then Michael?”

 

  “Yes, I learned it from my father.” Savouring the fact that he had an audience Michael drew on his pipe again, then, ignoring Jimmy’s groans, continued, “My father was the best trainer for miles around. Of course we had a lot of land. We needed a well-trained dog to round up all the cattle in the evening.

 

  Scornfully, Jimmy agreed. “I suppose they’d take a lot of finding amongst the rocks. You need a lot of land when its mostly rocks.”

 

  Ignoring Jimmy, Michael carried on regardless

  “When I was a kid we had a great bitch. Shep, she was called. She always brought the cattle home in the evening and only once do I remember her ever missing any. It was a summer evening and she came home without one young calf. My father tried to send her back for the calf. But, she was stubborn that time she wouldn’t go. She just lay there whimpering, and watching my father doing the milking. When he finished milking the cow he said to me. “We’d better look for that calf before it gets dark.” But, when he put the bucket down, up jumps shep and stuck her tail in the milk, annoying my father all the more. He shouted at her again but she just ran off over the hill. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that bitch this evening.” He said. “She won’t do as she’s told, and now she’s ruined the milk.” But, I knew we had plenty milk and we could always give that milk to the pigs. Shep knew that as well.”

 

  Michael puffed on his pipe before continuing. “Anyway when we got half way up the hill all was forgiven. The sight we saw cheered my father up no end. Shep was heading towards us and following behind was the calf sucking on her tail.”

 

  “You had a great dog there Michael.” Remarked John. But, Martin, who had been silently puffing on his pipe, his face glowing red, was less appreciative. “I wish you’d stop telling your flaming lies.”

 

  Jimmy too couldn’t resist having a dig. “I suppose you read that in Ireland’s Own.”

 

  Annoyed, Michael turned on Jimmy. “You know nothing about training dogs. Sure you never travelled any further than a cow shite.”

 

  Martin jumped to his feet. “I’ve heard enough. I’m going for a pint.”

 

  Jimmy couldn’t resist it “Hair of the dog is it Martin?”

 

  Martin glared at Jimmy, his big face redder than ever, but made no reply. Then he turned to John. “I’ll be back at one-o-clock to carry on with those drains”.

 

  “Sound as a bell Martin. Enjoy your pint”.

 

  As Martin left he briefly turned his glare on Michael who was sat nearest the door. But, Michael puffing on his pipe didn’t seem to notice. Then the rickety cabin shook all around them as Martin slammed the door. The door was slammed so hard it flew open again. An icy blast of air entered the cabin, as they watched Martin continue on his way without a backward glance. Without getting up Michael reached to close the door. Then John rebuked Jimmy.

 

  “You’ll go too far one of those days. I thought he was going to hit you then. Martin’s done very well this morning. I didn’t expect that drain to be finished yet.

 

  “Well, that’s praise coming from you. You expect plenty. Did you get what you expected from us?”

 

  “No, but I didn’t expect I would.”

 

  “A bit of a joker yourself now!”

 

  “I have to be with the likes of you or I’d go stone mad. Is there much to do in that house? The painters are ready to start there.”

 

  Andy answered, “No we won’t be long. Just one room to clean out.”

 

  In the period of silence that followed, Jimmy, fearing he’d taken the banter too far, studied Michael’s face from across the table. Michael, quietly smoking his pipe, didn’t seem too upset. A friendly approach, Jimmy thought, may be accepted. In a more conciliatory voice he ventured a comment. “You've been over here a good many years now Michael.”

 

  Looking a little surprised, but not one to sulk, with no animosity Michael first turned to John, before answering Jimmy. “I. It must be the most of twenty years. Myself and John, we came over together with McAlpine.”

  "McAlpine's fusiliers." Jimmy was referring to the well-known song.

  And were you well looked after?”

 

  “Well, we had our fare paid and accommodation found: such as it was. We lived in cabins right on the site. It was nice and handy for the work. We got good money, especially in summer. We could work all the daylight hours. But, we had to earn every penny.”

 

  “McAalpine’s God was a well filled hod.”

  “That’s very true. He got his money’s worth from us for sure," said John. The jokes about him being such a hard man to work for, aren't far off the mark.

  Although there's one that says he softened a bit when he got near his end. It tells about him travelling in his Rolls Royce one day, when he spotted an old man shuffling along by the side of the road. The man had a bad hump. He was so bent over that his head was nearly touching the ground. McAlpine, that time, took pity on him. He said to his chauffeur “stop and give that man a lift. It was me that made him like that.”

  "I. He made many a man like that." Michael shook his head. “But, I don’t believe he ever softened, ‘til the day he died: and even then. There’s a tale about when he was dead and being carried out. The bearers heard a voice from the coffin, saying, “I’m sure two men could do this.”

  "The firm is still going strong," said John. But, I don't think Irishmen come over like that any more. Having their fares paid, I mean."

  "No. The talk now is about going to Australia, said Michael. "Ten pounds is all it costs. It seems great value. A lot of English people are taking that offer, I've heard."

 

  "All this immigrating said Andy. English people going to Australia and Irish being forced to come here."

  "We weren't forced," said Jimmy. We were invited: by McAlpine, and other firms."

  "We had to leave, though. There was no work for us there."

  "I didn't come for the work," said Jimmy. "I came for the adventure."

  "Don' I know that." said John.

  They were interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. When told to come in, a very well dressed man appeared at the door, but did not come in.

 

  “May I have a word with the foreman?”

 

  John went out with the man and closed the door behind him. "If that was a clerk-of- works," observed Michael, looking through the little window, "it isn't the one who came on Friday.”

 

  After a period of silence, shouting could be heard in the distance. There was
a hush while they all listened.

 

  “It’s Eddy. He’s excited again.”

 

  Jimmy got to his feet and peered through the little window. “I can’t see anything.”

 

  Michael partially opened the door as the shouting continued. “It’s definitely Eddy, but he’s too far away to tell what it’s about.”

 

  Michael quickly closed the door again, to, at least partially keep out the cold. “He’s an excitable man. Leave him to it. John must be there as well. He’ll tell us.”

 

  Soon after the door opened and a harassed looking John entered. All the attention was on him, but they waited patiently as he sat down in silence. His hand shook when he reached for the cup, still half full of tea.

 

  “Here, that’ll be cold. I’ll make a fresh brew.” Michael moved to put the kettle back on the stove, but John waved him away.

 

  “Never mind.” John had a sip of the cold tea. “I have to go out in a minute.” John put the cup down “Did ye hear the shouting?”

 

  “Indeed we did. What’s upset Eddy?”

 

  “He’s a silly man, arguing with the clerk-of-works.” John shook his head. “It won’t get him anywhere. Then he turned on me because I wouldn’t back him up. I had to walk away from him.”

 

  “A wise thing to do.” Michael understood, but was curious. “What did the clerk want?”

 

  “He wants to test some drains again.”

 

  Andy was suddenly interested. “Do you mean the ones Martin was filling in this morning?”

 

  “I, the same ones, and some he did for Eddy last week. It seems they weren’t tested properly on Friday.” That clerk was inexperienced. He didn’t do the proper test. He just looked at the pipes.”

 

  “Jesus, and will what he filled in this morning have to be dug out again.”

 

  “I, it might come to that. But, Andy, don’t look so worried. It just means we will be here a bit longer than we thought.”

 

  Jimmy was amused. “I can’t wait to see Martin’s face.”

 

  “It’s not Martins fault. It needn’t worry him.”

 

  “I bet it will.”

 

  Andy, still looking worried, turned to John. “Did you say it might not come to that?”

 

  “I. That’s right. He’s checking with the office now.”

 

  “What about our office? The extra work for nothing won’t please them, I’d say.”

 

  “Well, you’re right, and I’ll have to inform them. But, they like to keep well in with the clerk-of-works, so I don’t think there will be much fuss from them.”