“All right. That’s enough. Disperse now. Fun’s over.”
Slowly men in the crowd exchanged cigarettes and coins, conceding that despite Liam’s youth and strength, he had lost.
Most men wandered away, but one older man stood watching as Liam struggled to his feet. Emmet was about to rush forward, and the man gripped his arm. “Is he your pal?”
Emmet nodded, wanted to shake the man free to go and help Liam.
“He’s a good scrapper but needs some finesse. If he wants some tips, tell him to come see me. I’m in F Block. George Noble Plunkett.”
Emmet’s eyes widened. “Count Plunkett? Joseph Plunkett’s father?”
He nodded.
Emmet put out his hand to shake the older man’s. “I’m so sorry about your son, Sir. He was a hero to us all.”
“Thank you.” He closed his eyes and paused for an instant before he continued. My other boys, Jack and George can do some training with your friend if he’s interested.”
Emmet looked at Liam where he stood dizzily weaving, looking for his cap. “I’ll tell him.”
The man walked away, and Emmet went to help Liam back to his cot. “Liam. What was that all about?”
Liam wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and spoke though swelling lips. “That bastard is getting favours from the guards for information. I’ve been watching him, and I’ve seen him get cigarettes and food from the guards. He’s a grass.”
“Jaysus Liam. It’s not your job to deal with him.”
“Why not? I’m the one that’s seen him. It’s my job just as much as anyone’s.”
Emmet kept his arm around Liam as his friend tried to pull away in his rage. “Ah, you’re right of course. Listen now while I tell you about this fella that was watching you.”
Liam slumped back to lean on Emmet as they made their way down to their block. “Who?”
“Only Joseph Plunkett’s father.”
Liam stopped and looked into Emmet’s face. “Go away.”
“Yup. He said for me to tell you that you’re a great scrapper and he and his two sons can give you some tips.”
Liam pulled away again and straightened. “Where is he? Where do I find him?”
Emmet put his hand on Liam’s back and nudged him towards their barracks. “Not now. Tomorrow. He’s in F Block.”
Over the next few days Liam’s bruises slowly healed, although he earned a few new ones from the daily training with the Plunkett boys. Emmet went along and enjoyed talking to Count Plunkett while the training went on in the yard. The older man and Emmet talked about the future of the political landscape in Ireland, while Liam learned the art of delivering an upper cut and a hook.
• • •
On May 13th, Emmet, Liam and Kevin were all released and told to go home.
A few of the older Volunteers who had farms to run were also released. Emmet hugged his brother Michael and then his father. “Da, I’ll write to you and let you know how everything is.”
His father stood back and gripped his son by his arms. “I expect you to go back to school. You’ll help Kevin and your Ma of course, I know you will, but the main thing is that you need to keep going with your studies.”
Emmet nodded. “I’ll get a job to help out as well.”
“That’ll be grand. As long as your studies come first. Promise me now.”
“I promise.”
His father drew him close in one more hug. “That’s for your Mam, now. You give her that from me.”
Emmet swallowed hard. “I will, Da.”
Kevin nudged Emmet. “We’re going now.”
They joined the men marching out under guard. Over the sound of their boots on cobblestones, Emmet heard his father call out. “God Bless, boys.”
• • •
His bicycle hadn’t been stolen after all. After the surrender, locals had gathered together to return any personal belongings to their homes. Emmet and Kevin saw their bicycles in their rightful places as they walked up the garden path.
The door flew open and their mother burst out, pulling her apron up to wipe her tears. “Oh, thank you, God for returning my boys to me.”
She grabbed each of them around the neck and pulled them down, Kevin and Emmet knocking heads as they were gripped in a vice-like embrace. They stood like that for a few seconds, the three of them hunched into a bundle. Over her shoulder, Emmet could see Liam hesitating by the garden gate, not moving as he watched the reunion.
Emmet pulled himself free, leaving Kevin to continue to comfort their mother.
Emmet called out to Liam. “Did you want to come in for a cuppa before going home?”
Liam seemed to consider it before shaking his head. “I better get on.”
Emmet was glad. He wanted to rest in the comfort of his own family and just his family. “Right, then.”
Liam waved and walked on with slow steps, as if reluctant to leave the joyful celebration in the Ryan home.
Kathleen led the way into the house. “Come in, boys and tell me everything. Oh, I had so hoped that all four of you would be coming together, but I’m so pleased to see the two of you anyway.”
As his mother was putting on the kettle, Emmet stooped down to give her another hug. “That’s from Da. He told me to deliver that to you.”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “Are they all right? They aren’t being beaten or anything?”
Kevin was setting cups out on the table. “Mam, they’re fine. Look at us two. Not a mark on us and Da and Michael are just the same.”
She turned her back to them as she fussed with the teapot. “I’ve been that worried over you all.”
Emmet rubbed her back. “We know, Mam.”
Kathleen sliced thick cuts of bread and set them out, along with butter and a dish of strawberry jam.
She poured out the tea and the boys dug in.
Between mouthfuls, Kevin prodded his mother. “So, tell us all the news from the outside world.”
She took a sip of her tea. “It’s a terrible business. So many lives destroyed. That man, James Connolly, so injured that he was executed in a chair. Shocking. Absolutely shocking. And what’s to happen now to your Da and Michael?”
Kevin shook his head. “We don’t know, Mam. It looks like they’re trying to empty out Richmond Barracks, so they’ll probably be moved somewhere else.”
“What’s to become of us? I’ve only been managing with the help of neighbours and the little emergency fund your Da and I had put by.”
Kevin put his hand over hers. “Emmet and I are going to look after things until Da and Michael come back home. Don’t you worry.”
Emmet’s mother turned to look at him. “What about school?”
“I’ll have some catching up to do, but I will.”
She nodded and pursed her lips. “Then I best get on with ironing your uniform for tomorrow.”
Emmet was about to protest and tell her to relax, but he caught the warning look from Kevin. Kevin patted her on the arm. “That’s a good idea, Mam. We better all get on with things. I’m going to run down to talk to Mr. McNamara to see if he needs any extra hands on the job site.”
Emmet stood as well. “Kev, ask him for me as well, will you? I can come right after school if he’s got anything.”
“I’ll check. Meanwhile you better pop down to school and see if you can get the assignments you’ve missed.”
Emmet nodded. Only two years older than Emmet, Kevin was donning his mantle of responsibility like a cloak.
• • •
They settled into their new lives. Kevin worked full time and Emmet part time. Kathleen got a dozen turkey chicks to raise. “They’ll be great to sell at Christmas.”
The three of them went about their business, trying not to speak too often about those in internment. Instead they had more general discussions about the state of Ireland, and the support it was getting, especially from the United States.
Liam had left school and worked on a fa
rm, but he routinely came over after the weekly hurling match on Sundays.
Liam felt that the Americans would be their saviours. “I’m going there one day. Did ya read in the paper about the pressures the Americans are putting on Britain to release the prisoners?”
Emmet nodded. “But how much power do they really have? They can complain and protest, but at the end of the day, the Brits always do as they please.”
“The Brits will listen to the Americans. They want the Yankee munitions to fight the war in France.”
Liam was right in that. Emmet picked up the newspaper from the previous week. “There’s a great bit in the paper about American-Irish groups pressuring their own government to do something about the ‘Irish problem.’”
Liam took the paper from Emmet. “I wish I could get over there. I think I have some second cousin or something in Boston.”
Emmet shook his head. “You don’t even know them. How could you go so far away from everyone you care about?”
“Hmph. Easy. I could be doing something better over there.”
“Better, how?”
“This farm work is desperate. I need something more interesting.”
“Maybe you should be thinking about going back to school?”
“That’s not the answer.” Liam hurried to add “It’s fine for you. You like studying. I’m no good at it.”
Liam sighed. “The battle of Ashbourne, ‘twas grand, wasn’t it? Do you remember how they just threw down their weapons when they knew they were beaten?”
Emmet smiled and opened his text book. “I do.”
Liam sat back, his eyes glazed. “I could have taken some more shots if there hadn’t been a ceasefire.”
Emmet glanced at his friend. “Liam, I really need to study.”
Liam grimaced, stood and wandered away, hands stuffed in his pockets.
• • •
The turkeys were ready, and all had been reserved by neighbours, aside for one Kathleen was keeping for their own Christmas dinner.
She threw out a handful of corn to the birds and they clamoured around her looking for more. For most of their lives they simply grazed in the back garden, eating grass, weeds and whatever, but now, as Christmas approached she had taken to supplementing their diet.
Emmet stood watching. “It’ll be hard to part with them, I’m thinking.”
Kathleen turned and saw her son watching. She wiped her hands on her apron and came to stand with him. “The secret is to not give them names.”
He smiled. “Which one is ours?”
She pointed to the smallest. “With only the three of us, we won’t need a big one.”
Emmet was sorry he had mentioned it. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Come on inside, Mam. It’s cold out here.”
They went in and Emmet sat at the kitchen table while Kathleen put on the kettle for a pot of tea. Emmet picked up the newspaper from December 7th, a couple of days previously. “So Lloyd George is the new Prime Minister.”
“Will it make any difference to us?”
Emmet had taken to reading everything about history and politics that he could lay his hands on and had become the family expert.
“It might. He’s spoken in favour of Home Rule. Mind you it’s a coalition, so he may not get much done.”
She sniffed. “They’re all the same to me.”
“We have to stay positive, Mam, otherwise what’s it all for?”
Kathleen nodded. “That’s a good question.”
• • •
The days went by and Christmas came closer. Kevin and Emmet delivered the turkeys as everyone made ready for the holiday.
Two days before Christmas Emmet was trying to convince Kathleen that they should do some decorating. “We always gather holly, Mam. We should keep up the traditions.”
She was staring out of the kitchen window looking at the grey fields behind the house. “I don’t have the heart for it. You and Kevin go on.”
“Kevin doesn’t have time. Come on, Mam.”
“No, honestly. I’m that tired I just couldn’t think of it.”
They had been so engrossed in their conversation that neither had heard the front door open. From behind them a voice had them swivelling in shock.
“That’s a fine welcome home for a man and his son, when there isn’t a decoration to be seen.”
Kathleen threw her arms out, reaching for her husband as she ran the few steps to cross the room. “Dear God, are you really here?”
Emmet was right behind his mother and reached out to hug his brother Michael as his mother and father stood embracing each other, she, sobbing against his chest.
Emmet felt the bony hardness of his brother that seven months in prison had wrought. “How is it possible? How are you here?”
Kathleen stepped back and put her hand to her mouth. “You didn’t escape, sure you didn’t?”
Michael grinned. “Don’t worry, Mam. You aren’t harbouring fugitives.”
She touched her husband’s arm. “Ned, tell me.”
“Hush, Kathleen. You haven’t heard then. Lloyd George has declared a Christmas amnesty and any one of us who weren’t out-and-out leaders have been released.”
She crossed herself then. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”
Emmet felt his own tears clog his throat. “It is, Mam.”
She whirled then and scurried around the kitchen heating up some soup and getting the kettle going.
The three men sat and talked about all that had happened since they had last seen each other. His father looked Emmet up and down. “You’re a bit thin. You’re still at the studies I hope?”
Emmet laughed. “I am still at the studies, and that’s the pot calling the kettle black, saying that I’m thin.”
Kathleen set some food down in front of her husband and oldest son. “We’ll start fattening you up again immediately.”
She turned to Emmet. “Run down to meet Kevin to make sure he doesn’t delay coming home.”
Emmet nodded, grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door and threw his cap on. As he mounted his bicycle to go down and head Kevin off before his brother settled in to the pub after work, he threw a glance back at the house. It’s a home again.
He cycled almost all the way to Kevin’s job site before he saw his brother coming towards him.
Kevin saw him approach. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Emmet grinned. “Nothing wrong but we’ve got a full house and Mam wants you home.”
Kevin put his feet down while he waited for Emmet to get his bike turned around. “So who’s there that I’m needed in such a panic?”
Emmet considered drawing it out but couldn’t. “It’s Da and Michael. They’re home.”
Kevin’s eyes widened. “The amnesty. It’s true, then?”
Emmet nodded. “It is. They got out early this morning and walked the whole way. They’ve only just arrived.”
Kevin pushed hard on the pedals and took off in a spit of gravel.
Emmet laughed and pushed himself to keep up with his brother.
Kevin’s breath was short with the exertion, but still he shouted out questions. “Are they all right?”
“Seem to be.”
“And in their spirits?”
“They’re happy to be home. That’s all I could tell so far.”
Emmet cautioned as they turned into their own gate. “They’re skinny as rakes and are shaggy looking. Mam’ll have the hair clippers at them by tomorrow, I’ll bet.”
Kevin dropped his bicycle at the front door and flung the door open. Emmet parked his bike and then picked up Kevin’s and parked it as well.
Emmet could hear Kevin through the open door. “Da! Michael! By God, it’s good to see you both!”
Emmet came into the kitchen and saw his father giving Kevin a hug. Michael was patting Kevin’s shoulder while his mother stood by the cooker watching the scene with tears running down her cheeks.
It was over. For her at least, i
t was over.
Chapter Five
Ashbourne, December 1918
Emmet was home from college for the Christmas break. The elections were coming up in two days; the first elections in eight years and the newspapers were full of news about it.
Supper was finished, but they all continued to sit in the kitchen, as usual; Emmet and Kevin at the table with the newspaper in front of them, Michael and his Da on the old horsehair settee under the window and Mam in a chair by the cooker, mending. Emmet was reading pieces out of the paper to the family. “It says here that it’s expected that the number of people eligible to vote in Ireland this time has gone up from seven hundred thousand to about two million. Damn, I wish I was older.”
Kathleen responded automatically. “No need to curse, Emmet.”
“Sorry, Mam.”
Kevin nodded. “How do you think I feel? A couple more months I’ll be 21 and I’d be able to vote. As it is I’ll have to wait.”
Michael grinned. “Poor boys. Never mind, I’ll cast my vote for you both.”
Emmet turned to his father. “Will de Valera get anywhere, do you think?”
Ned shrugged. “I think he will. At the annual conference he was elected leader of the party with great support all around.”
Emmet sighed and tossed the paper aside. “He’s a great favourite around the college.”
Kathleen looked up at the mention of college. “When will you get your exam results?”
Emmet stood and went to look at the calendar on the kitchen wall. “They’re supposed to be mailed out this week, so probably next week.”
Michael picked up the discarded newspaper. “It’ll be a competition in the Ryan house to see what’s a bigger news item – the election results or Emmet’s exam results.”
Ned frowned. “Just because you only have politics and women on your mind doesn’t mean you should scoff.”
Michael flushed. “I’m not. Emmet, you know I’m just taking the mickey.”
Emmet smiled. “I do, of course.”
Michael stood. “Speaking of women, I’m away to the church dance. Anyone going with me?”
Kathleen furrowed her brow. “Are you sure it’s still on? I heard they might cancel it, on account of the influenza. So many people are getting it.”
Torn Asunder Page 7