Liam grinned. “Go on. I saw her first, but I’ll let you have her.”
Emmet snorted. “You’ll let me, will you?”
“I will.”
Emmet stood up. “You’re just about ready for another drink anyway, aren’t you?”
“Always.”
Emmet stopped at the table of the two girls on his way to the bar. “Hello, ladies. Can I interest you in another drink? You’d be welcome to join my friend and me.” Emmet nodded towards Liam who waved.
The dark-haired girl smiled towards Liam before turning to the girl with the red hair. “What do you say, Bridie?”
“I have a drink.”
Emmet smiled at her, feeling his heart race. “Sure, you could drink it at our table just as well as here.”
She seemed to consider that and then nodded. “All right, then.”
The two girls picked up their coats and drinks and went to join Liam while Emmet got two more pints.
Emmet was delighted to see that Liam was making a concerted effort at chatting with the dark-haired girl. When he sat down, he introduced himself. “I’m Emmet Ryan and this is Liam Kelly.”
The red-haired girl smiled. “I’m Bridie Mallon and this is Eleanor Collins.”
Emmet grinned. “We were just talking about Collins. Are you related to him, Eleanor?”
“No, not that I know of, anyway.”
Bridie raised one eyebrow. “Are you a fan of his?”
Emmet and Bridie became immersed in discussing the possible treaty for Irish independence while Liam and Eleanor talked about all the development going on in the local neighbourhood.
Before Emmet knew it, it was closing time. He looked at his watch when the bar man started calling “Time. Drink up, now.”
Emmet’s eyes widened when he looked at his watch. “Good Lord, I had no idea it was so late. I’ll have to hustle to make curfew.”
Bridie nodded. “We meant to just come in for one drink.”
Emmet pulled out the little notebook he always carried. “Can I be so bold as to ask for your address, Bridie? I’d love to see you again.”
Bridie bit her lip and then took the book and pencil from him and wrote out her address.
He felt himself flush as he took the book back from her, knowing that he would study her handwriting later. “Perhaps on Sunday afternoon? Could I take you for tea?”
She nodded. “I’d like that. After mass. You can come by the house to get me at three o’clock unless you want to meet me somewhere?”
“No, I’ll come by the house. I’d like that.”
• • •
Emmet stood on the pavement in front of Bridie’s house on Finglas Road. The red brick house was rather grand looking with its front bow windows and stained-glass fanlight above the blue-painted front door. He took a deep breath, feeling constricted in his stiff white Sunday collar and black tie. Releasing his breath, Emmet opened the wrought iron gate that led into an actual garden with roses along the pathway and stepped smartly to the door. He knocked, and Bridie came to the door immediately, making him think that she must have been watching from behind the lace curtains.
Emmet felt his heart race as he stood in front of her. She was even prettier than he remembered.
She stepped back into the foyer. “You’ll have to come in for a minute, I’m afraid. Mammy and Daddy want to meet you.”
Emmet nodded. “That’d be grand.”
She sighed, and Emmet wondered if she regretted her impulsive agreement to have tea with him.
Just before she opened the frosted glass door to what must be the sitting room, he touched her shoulder and she turned back to him. “Would you rather I go?”
She blushed. “No, no. I’m just a bit annoyed that they’re putting you through this.”
“I’m not bothered.”
She smiled at him, looking relieved. “Right, then.”
She opened the door and Emmet followed her into a large room. The two windows facing the street framed the fireplace and each had a brown leather chair in front, facing the room. In one, to the left of the fireplace, sat a man wearing a three-piece sat, folding up his newspaper as Bridie and Emmet walked in. There was a long floral-pattern sofa in soft colours; greens and browns, along the wall facing the door through which they had come and another shorter settee at right angle to it. To the left of the door was a piano. Emmet absorbed all this in a glance, but his focus was on the woman who sat on the sofa with two young girls on either side of her.
Bridie led Emmet to her mother. “Emmet Ryan, this is my mother, Mary Mallon.”
“Mrs. Mallon, I’m pleased to meet you.” Emmet shook her hand. Her faded red hair was piled high in a complex style that Emmet suspected the woman would wear until the day she died, despite any styles and fads that may come and go between now and then.
Mrs. Mallon’s grip was firm, and she nodded. “Mr. Ryan.”
Bridie gestured to one girl and then the other. “And these are my sisters, Tess and Kate.”
The two teen-aged girls smiled shyly. Both had the chestnut hair of their father and Emmet thought that Bridie was the beauty in the family. Emmet nodded to each in turn. “Hello.”
By then the man had stood and stepped nearer and Bridie introduced them. “Daddy, this is Emmet Ryan. Emmet, my father Dermot Mallon.”
Emmet reached out and shook his hand. “A pleasure, Mr. Mallon.”
Her father stood and looked down at Emmet. His callous-free hand suggested a business man and he wore a heavy, neatly trimmed moustache. His dark hair was receding, leaving a high forehead and piercing grey eyes.
“So you’re taking our Bridie out for tea, is it?”
“Yes, sir.” Emmet wished he could say something bright and intelligent, but his mind froze, and he remained silent. Don’t blather.
Mr. Mallon studied Emmet for a moment before turning to his daughter. “Don’t be too late, dear.”
“I won’t, Daddy.”
With this, Bridie turned and led Emmet out of the living room. He turned in the sitting room doorway and nodded to Bridie’s mother. “Good-bye. It was nice to meet you all.”
He stood at the door in the foyer while she took her hat and shawl from the coat stand. She pinned on her hat without looking and flung on the brown shawl and then nodded to Emmet who opened the door for her.
She led the way out through the gate and waited while he latched it behind them.
She smiled at him. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
He laughed. “Not at all. I don’t blame them for wanting to see the fellow that’s taking you off for the afternoon.”
They walked along, and he longed to offer his arm but was afraid he’d appear too bold. “Where would you like to go?”
She smiled up at him from under her embroidered yellow Tam O’Shanter hat. “Up past Kavanaugh’s there’s a place that looks out on the Botanical Gardens. Is that all right?”
He nodded. They walked side-by-side along Prospect Avenue, chatting about the pub where they met; he called it Gravedigger’s, she called it Kavanaugh’s, about her friend and about Liam. She’s easy to talk to.
She led him, without seeming to, inside the small cozy room. There were only five tables, two of which were in front of the tall, narrow windows. It was to one of these that they gravitated and sat. He was quiet while they waited for the serving girl to come to them. From the trolley, they both selected a slice of apple cake with custard sauce, along with a pot of tea to share.
While they waited for their order, Emmet tried to think of an uncontroversial topic to discuss, but before he could say anything, Bridie burst out. “So, what do you make of the treaty talks?”
His eyes widened. “Jaysus, I can think of nothing else. Rumours have it that it might not include all of Ireland. The Brits want to keep the north. That would be wrong. So very wrong.”
She blinked. “Do you think so? Isn’t it better to have Home Rule for the majority and then keep working towards ultimate freed
om for everyone?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s giving in to the usual British tricks.”
Bridie frowned. “But maybe Ulster wants to stay with Britain. If that’s true, how is it wrong?”
Emmet bit his lip. He didn’t want to argue with this pretty girl, but he couldn’t keep his opinions to himself. “It should be all of Ireland, not pieces.”
The tea came, and they were quiet as they ate and drank. She looked at him over the rim of her tea cup. “You’re very passionate about it all.”
His heart melted as her blue eyes pierced him. “I am. I know I am. I’ve been involved since I was a boy and I believe what I believe.”
She nodded and set her cup down. Her hand slid across the table and touched his lightly. “I like that in a man.”
Emmet swallowed hard, his heart pounding.
She pulled her hand away again but kept smiling at him. “Tell me more. My parents aren’t very political, so maybe I don’t know all the facts.”
They sat for an hour talking. He ordered another pot of tea. “Are you sure you don’t mind me blathering on like this?”
She shook her head. “I live amongst it every day but know only what I read in the papers. When I read about the killings last November, first by the Michael Collins’ Volunteers in the morning, and then later in the day by the Black and Tans at Croke Park, it was hard to know what was happening. It’s like living in the middle of an American story of cowboys and Indians.”
He nodded. “I was there in Croke Park.”
She put her hands up in front of her mouth. “Oh, God. That must have been awful.”
Emmet felt his throat close as he remembered Sean. He took a deep breath to regain control. “Yes. It was. I lost a very good friend that day.”
“So much violence. It’s confusing to know what’s right.”
“I know it’s hard, but if you just keep one thing in mind, you’ll be all right.”
“What’s that, then?”
His voice was soft. “Ireland should belong to the Irish. Period.”
She nodded. “When you put it like that, I can’t argue with it.”
He smiled. “That’s grand. I don’t want to argue with you.”
She licked her lip. “Are you never uncertain, though?”
“About?”
“The method of getting there, I suppose.”
He sighed. “It’s hard. I understand that. I contribute with my pen now that I’m working full time for the Freeman’s Journal, but sometimes I wonder if it’s enough.”
She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Do you know any of those Volunteers personally?”
He hesitated before answering. “Let’s talk of something more cheerful. When can I see you again?”
She smiled and let it go. “When would you like to see me again?”
“Sure, I’d like to see you tomorrow, but between my work and yours in the shop, I’d say I may have to wait until the weekend to see you again.”
“Then let’s make a plan. Next Sunday?”
He grinned and nodded. “Next Sunday.”
They left the tea shop and Emmet felt like singing. He walked her home and she slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. Emmet’s heart beat faster and he straightened his shoulders as he matched his long stride to her shorter one.
• • •
They chose a different tea shop the following week, but to Emmet he might as well have been drinking tea on the moon for all he noticed. They ordered and then again spent more time getting to know each other.
He watched as she poured out the tea for each of them. “Your parents don’t mind you coming out with me?”
She tossed her curls back out of her eyes. “I’m twenty years old. They don’t say anything. They probably think I’m overdue for settling down. It’s my sisters that are all giggles and gossip when they see me getting ready to go out.”
He saw a small ‘v’ form on her forehead and she turned to look out the window, quiet for a moment. “What is it, Bridie? Is your family teasing you over the likes of me?”
She turned back, her eyes shiny with tears. “No, nothing like that.”
“What then? Something’s wrong.”
“I was just thinking of my other sister.”
Emmet frowned. “I thought you only had the two.”
“I do. I had another who was two years older than me. Maureen was her name.”
“You never mentioned her before now.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. “I can’t bear to talk of her. We were the best of friends. She was taken by the Spanish influenza three years ago.”
He leaned across and touched her arm. “I’m that sorry, Bridie.”
Bridie pulled a hankie from her small embroidered handbag and touched it to the corner of her eye. She looked back out the window and Emmet had to strain to hear her. “She was fine. We were all fine. She went to play cards with three other women on a Wednesday afternoon and by the following Wednesday three of those women were dead.”
Emmet crossed himself. “Dear God.”
Bridie took a deep breath and exhaled, seeming to steady herself. “I’m sorry for bringing you down. We were having such a nice time, but she’s always with me, you know? I imagine what she’d think of you or of what she’d say when I tell her this or that. It just isn’t right that she isn’t here. She was my best friend.”
He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her arm one last time before leaning back again to pick up his tea.
She gave him a small smile. “Tell me about your family.”
Emmet smiled. “My oldest brother Michael is married now. My next brother Kevin seems to be too busy going here and there to settle down.”
She tilted her head. “Going where?”
“He spends quite a bit of time down around Cork these days, but he’s also gone up to Belfast. One never knows where he’ll be found.”
“Does he travel for work?”
Emmet nodded. “You could say that.” Changing topics, he pointed to a pamphlet she had put on the table. “What do you have there?”
“After we talked last week, I started to read more about it all.”
He smiled. “Good.”
She slid the pamphlet over to him. “It’s about the Women’s Movement.”
He read the title. “Cumann na mBan. Ah, you’ve been looking into the Irishwomen’s Council.”
She took the small booklet back again and flipped through it. “It’s quite fascinating. They are very active and the Countess Markievicz is the leader.”
“Yes, I know.”
She looked at him. “They’re like you. Ireland for the Irish.”
He nodded. “True patriots.”
“I’m thinking I might look into joining.”
He bit his lip. “Don’t do this for me. You have to believe in what it all stands for.”
“I do. As I’m reading more and understanding it now, I find I do agree.”
He took her small hand in his and pressed it quickly. “You’ll find that when you are with people who think like you do, who believe in the same things you do, you’ll feel a kinship to them like no other.”
She flushed, and he released her hand. “I think you’re right. I can well imagine it.”
“Will your family be upset?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d really talk to them about this.”
He grinned. “You have me now. You can talk to me to your heart’s content. You can talk to me about anything.”
He loved the pink blush that settled in her face. He felt a heat in his own cheeks in response. He wondered if it was true; that he could talk to her about anything.
Chapter Nine
Dublin, May 1921
Emmet was surprised to have Kevin show up at his room one evening. He opened the door wide to let his brother in.
Kevin held up two bottles of beer. “I come bearing gifts.”
Emmet grinned. “You’re welcome any time
but even more so when you bring gifts.”
His flat held just a bed, two easy chairs placed in front of a coal fireplace and a small pine press cupboard. The press held some crockery on its two shelves, and on one sat half a loaf of bread, a waxed paper containing butter and a small pot of jam.
Emmet found his bottle opener but didn’t offer a glass. “So, what brings you my way?”
Kevin held up his bottle in a toast. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Emmet raised his eyebrows. “What about? Are Mam and Da all right?”
Kevin nodded. “They’re fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“What, then?”
Kevin took another sip of beer as Emmet waited in silence. His brother seemed to be studying Emmet before speaking. “Are you still as keen as you were about the cause?”
Emmet frowned. “Of course. Do you need to ask?”
Kevin shrugged. “People change.”
“Sure, don’t you read any of the pieces I write?”
Kevin nodded. “Words are easy.”
Now it was Emmet’s turn to study his brother. “Why do you say that? What am I missing here? Why would you think I’m, as you say, less keen?”
Kevin shook his head. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just making sure.”
Emmet scowled. “So now you’re sure.”
Kevin nodded. “Now I’m sure.” He took another drink. “There’s something coming up and we’re looking for men.”
Emmet’s heart beat faster. “What is it?”
Still Kevin hesitated. “Are you in?”
“I need to agree before I even know what it’s about?”
“I think so. Yes.”
Emmet sucked in his breath, exhaling slowly. I thought I was done with that side of things. I can’t say that out loud. I’m not a coward. “Then I’m in. You can count on me.”
“That’s what I told them.”
Emmet tilted his head. “So? What did I just sign up for?”
“We’re going to take the Custom House.”
“Jaysus. For real?”
Kevin nodded.
“Tell me more.”
Kevin set his bottle on the floor and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You can’t say anything, to anyone at all.”
“Obviously.”
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