“We’ll be back the same night.”
“Count me in.”
“You should think about it. It should be straightforward, but there’s always risk.”
“I don’t need to think about it. Let’s walk on.”
They continued to stroll down the other side of the garden, Maeve stopping to point out an area as if they were discussing the flower beds. “Where do I meet you?”
He shook his head. “Your parents will skin me alive if they find out.”
“They won’t. And I’m the one making this choice. Not you.”
“Fair enough. Meet me in front of St. Peter’s at eleven o’clock. Can you get away then?”
“I’ll be there.”
They went back into the house and despite her mind spinning with the thought of what might come in just four days’ time, she talked to her mother about roses and Welsh poppies for the garden. She was glad that her brothers carried the conversation at tea, with Robert full of baking news and Malachy pestering her father about chess.
• • •
The night of the thirtieth of August was black and sultry. The rain spit down and Maeve had a headache. It’s so feckin’ hot. A trickle of sweat slid down between her shoulder blades. The darkness cloaked her, and she was glad for it. She didn’t feel quite so conspicuous standing alone in front of the old church as she might have if it were a bright, clear evening.
Uncle Liam was suddenly beside her. She smelt the musky odour of him, knowing it was him, before she turned.
He rested his hand on her shoulder briefly. “Are you sure you want to come along?”
She tried to pierce the darkness to look into his eyes. “You won’t go back on your promise, sure you won’t?”
“I won’t. I’m just telling you there’d be no shame in changing your mind.”
Maeve shook her head. “No chance.”
Liam took his cap off and ran his hand through his thinning hair. “Your Da will kill me if he thinks I’ve coerced you into this.”
She laid her hand on his sleeve. “If he finds out, and why should he? But if he does, I’ll make sure he knows it was entirely my idea and decision.”
Liam nodded. “Right, then. Let’s go. I need someone like you to go with me, so if you’re sure, that’s good enough for me.”
He led her around the corner to where he had a lorry parked. They climbed in, and Maeve settled onto the hard seat. Maeve wore a simple working dress, in keeping with the story that she was Liam’s niece and they were delivering a load of lumber. She reminded herself of the details. My Da, Liam’s brother, took ill and decided he wasn’t able to drive the lorry. That’s why we’re so late. Da kept thinking he’d manage, but finally decided he can’t.
Liam concentrated on driving through the drizzle, so they didn’t speak as he navigated them through the dark Dublin streets. The rattle and drone of the lorry made conversation difficult anyway. Maeve felt queasy at the thought of all the munitions hidden in the back of the lorry. What if we’re stopped?
She looked at Liam. His face was a grey shape in the darkness. “How long is it to Newry again?”
“Couple of hours.” He threw her a quick look. “Not having second thoughts?”
“No, no.”
She saw him nod. His voice was quiet, and she could hardly make him out over the noise of the engine. “I should never have let Paddy and yourself talk me into this.”
“Uncle Liam. If Patrick thinks I can be of use, then I’m glad to be here. If nothing else, I can at least help with the unloading. An extra set of hands can’t be a bad thing.”
He sniffed. “Patrick. A fine college man. At least he should be. Now that he’s left college to go north, who knows what his future holds?”
She bit her lip. “I happen to agree with you, Uncle Liam. I think he should have stayed in school as well. He’s so clever.”
They fell into silence again. With the blackouts, everything was pitch dark. They drove through the night towards Newry where they would cross the border to unload weapons for the IRA to continue the fight for Irish unity. It crossed Maeve’s mind that she may be doing this just to see Patrick. She expected he would be there to receive the munitions. No. It’s not that. Patrick is lovely, but he’s not looking for a girl. His love is all spent on the Cause.
Maeve dozed but awoke in the sudden quiet of the lorry being turned off. “Where are we?”
Liam cranked the handbrake on. “Coming in to Dundalk. We’ll take a few minutes to stretch.”
Maeve climbed out. The rain had stopped. They were pulled over on the side of the road. There were bushes along the side of the road and Maeve fought her way through them to a secluded spot. I shouldn’t have had that second cup of tea at supper.
She made her way back to the side of the lorry.
Liam was smoking a cigarette. The tip glowed in the dark. “Do you smoke these days?”
“No.”
“No bad habits, then?”
“Not that one, anyway.”
Liam chuckled. “I wonder what your Da would have said if I had asked him to come along on this trip instead of you.”
Maeve bit her lip. “He probably would have jumped at the chance.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Whenever he’s talked about his actions you should hear his voice. He’s very proud of the work he’s done.”
Liam nodded and took another drag. “Yes, I know he is. No question but he’s a grand man for telling the story.”
Maeve felt herself tense. “He spent time in prison. He has a right to be proud of his participation. You make it sound like he’s full of hot air.”
“Ah now, no need to get defensive. I know better than anyone what your Da does for the Cause. There are bits that I suspect he left out, though.”
“Like what?”
Liam chortled. “He never had the stomach for getting dirty. I don’t suppose he ever mentioned how many times he gave up his lunch when things got hot.”
“He can’t stand blood.” Maeve conceded the point. “He’s not a coward, though.”
“No, I’m not saying that he is. I just think that he wouldn’t be as enthusiastic about this sort of thing as you are.”
“How did you stay friends all these years if you’re so different?”
The tip of the cigarette glowed as Liam took a deep draw. “Maybe it’s because we’re different. We both want the same thing, but we have different ways of getting there. The Cause needs both of us.”
A snippet of poetry occurred to Maeve. “Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.”
“What’s that when it’s at home?”
“It’s from a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. It talks about how we each have our own gifts to bring. You know, everyone is unique and what you do is different than what my Da does, but you bring your own talents to a thing.”
There was a silence as Liam finished his cigarette and ground it out. “It seems to me that your talents lie in the way of education, like your Da.”
Maeve shrugged. “I promise not to throw up.” She changed the subject. “Tell me again what you want me to do when we get to the border.”
“You’re to say nothing. We shouldn’t even see anyone on the road I’m taking. If we do get questioned by anyone, let me do the talking.”
“And when we get to the drop-off?”
“You’ll be the lookout. You’ve sharp eyes and you’ll need them in the back of your head to make sure no one comes upon us. With the new aerodrome at Kilkeel, the area’s crawling with soldiers.”
Maeve nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Liam reached for the door handle. “I know you won’t. You’re Emmet’s daughter, aren’t you? Ready to go?”
Maeve felt a glow of pride. She jumped back into the lorry with a renewed excitement.
The clouds were scudding across the sky when they approached the border. The rain had stopped completely, and the light of the waning moon cast grey shadows on the l
andscape.
“Damn.” Liam cursed.
Maeve saw the faint light of a torch ahead. “Guards?”
“Soldiers. Quiet, now.” Liam slowed the lorry to stop at the temporary barrier erected at the border. Each of the two guards took positions on either side of the lorry. Liam rolled down his window and as Maeve looked out her window the guard made a motion for her to open it as well.
Liam adopted a cheerful, casual tone. “Wet, ould night for standing around in the dark, Corporal.”
The soldiers each shone their torches into the truck cab and for an instant Maeve was blinded.
The one on the driver’s side called over to his colleague. “Search the back, Lynn.” He then asked Liam for identification and questions about where they were going.
Maeve rested her elbows on the open window and looked out at the soldier on her side before he stepped away. “My name’s Maeve. What’s yours?”
She felt him hesitate. “Private Henry Lynn.”
“As in Vera Lynn?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Are you related?”
“I wish. It would be nice to have some of her money.”
She sang the opening lines from The White Cliffs of Dover softly. “Come on, sing it with me.”
She heard him chuckling as he moved along the length of the lorry, flashing the light under the carriage. “You wouldn’t want to hear me sing.”
She continued to tease him as he reached the back of the vehicle. “People always say that, but I’ll bet you have a fine singing voice.”
She heard the canvas flap pulled back and when she stretched to peer out, she saw the flash of the torch as he waved it around the back in a quick search. He didn’t climb inside, and he was back at Maeve’s side in a moment.
He pointed the torch at the ground, so she wouldn’t be blinded again. “I think the Irish and the Welsh got all the singing talent and left none for the English.”
“Except for Vera Lynn.”
He laughed. “Yes, except for her.”
The Corporal called out. “Anything?”
“No, Corporal. All clear.”
He nodded to Liam. “Have a good evening.”
Liam touched the brim of his cap. “Cheers. Good luck, now.”
The soldiers moved the barrier and Liam drove on.
When they were well away from the checkpoint, Liam expelled a breath as if he had been holding it for a while. “Jaysus. I didn’t expect that.”
“I know. I thought I’d be sick.”
He glanced at her. “You were extraordinary. You sounded as cool as a cucumber. I could hardly listen to what ‘yer man was asking me, for listening to you chatter away. You had him completely bewitched, I think.”
She smiled in the darkness. “When I started, I was afraid he’d just tell me to shut up.”
“Every man likes a sweet girl chatting him up. You made his evening.”
“Why were they there? Were they tipped off?”
“No. They’re looking for Germans. There’s been a report of a plane going down, so they’ve got patrols everywhere. Just what we need.”
“Ah. So now we need to watch for British patrols, German parachutists and the Royal Ulster Constabulary. Very good.”
She heard the smile in Liam’s voice. “I would say you’re up to the challenge.”
They drove on without further conversation. Maeve felt drained after the adrenalin rush. She kept expecting to hear shots or shouts, but all she heard was the continued grind of the engine labouring its way along the old, pot-holed road.
It wasn’t long before they pulled into a dirt track. How did he even see where to turn?
Maeve strained to see through the Guinness-dark night but all she could make out were dark shapes on both sides of the track. Shrubs, trees, a broken stone wall. Liam drove slowly along the track. Maeve’s spine was jarred in the awful bumping and she clung to the armrest for support. They pulled alongside a rocky outcrop and then the vehicle stopped. Liam switched off the engine and the sudden silence closed in on her. The hot engine ticked as it cooled.
They sat for a minute in the dark stillness as Maeve became adjusted to the night sounds. Just as she took a breath to ask, ‘now what?’ Liam whispered. “There.”
Maeve followed his pointing finger and saw what he had seen. A flash of light. A torch on and then off again.
Liam’s breath sounded ragged, as if he had been holding it. “It’s safe.”
Liam climbed out, closing the lorry door behind him with a soft snick.
Maeve was careful as well when she climbed out. She pushed the door gently, so it barely clicked closed. The sound of a slamming door would carry far on such a night.
Her eyes adjusted, and Maeve was surprised at how much she could see in the intermittent milky light of the sliver of moon. Shapes that she had taken for rocks began to move. From the shadows one shape became Patrick. Her heart raced to see him again.
He went first to shake Liam’s hand. “No trouble?”
Liam shook his head. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. A plane’s gone down somewhere so there are British patrols out. We need to be as quick as we can. You’ll have to take the lumber that’s back there as well in case we run into the same patrol on the way back. They’ll wonder why we didn’t unload.”
He came then to Maeve. “You came, then.”
She swallowed. “I did. It’s good to see you.”
“And you. Brave girl. I knew you were one of us.”
And then he sprang into action. He gave orders to the three men with him. “Ta, get the lorry. Back it in here.” Patrick waved to the others. “You two start unloading. We’re exposed here and need to get this done as quick as we can.”
Liam jumped into the back of the lorry to start handing wooden crates down.
Maeve touched Patrick’s arm. “Where shall I go?”
Patrick nodded back along the track. “Down along there fifty feet to the bend in the track. Keep a watch. If you see anything at all suspicious, let us know. Can you whistle?”
Maeve shook her head. “I can sing.”
Patrick chuckled. “I remember those songs in the pub. You sing like an angel, but that’s not what’s wanted now.” He handed the torch to her. “Flash it at us if you see anything. Off you go now.”
Maeve ran back along the track and then crouched down beside a heap of rocks. She was shivering despite the sultry heat of the night. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. Please God don’t let anyone come.
She felt her legs cramping but didn’t dare move. She heard a lorry start up behind her. Are they done?
Maeve almost yelped when Patrick put his hand on her shoulder. “You frightened the shite out of me. I guess I’m not such a great watcher.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Sorry about that. I’ve had plenty of practice at moving quietly. We’re finished.”
When she stood, he pulled her to him and put his arms around her. She smelled sweat and oil on him and felt intoxicated. He leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft, but the stubble of several days beard growth rubbed her harshly. His tongue pried its way into her mouth, and she whimpered with longing. Then he released her.
Maeve was dizzy. “Patrick.”
He put a finger to her lips. “It’s time to go.”
He held her hand as he led her back to where the men waited, and then in the darkness she felt his hand slip away from hers.
She heard one of Patrick’s men mutter. “Come on. Let’s get the feck out of here.”
Patrick shook Liam’s hand again. “We’ll be in touch.”
Liam climbed into the lorry while Patrick turned to Maeve. He steered her towards her door with a hand on her back. She turned and gave him a quick hug and then he was opening the door and handing her up. She rolled down the window and touched the rasp of his cheek as Liam started up the engine. “Stay safe.” Her words were lost as Liam began backing the lorry to a place he could turn around and she
never knew if Patrick heard her.
• • •
The drive back was uneventful. Maeve was exhausted, and she sensed that even Liam was tired. The adrenalin that had taken them to Newry was gone now and Maeve just wanted to get home. When they got to the border, the temporary barrier was gone and there was no sign of the soldiers.
The sun was rising when they reached the outskirts of Dublin. Her eyes were gritty and sore.
Liam took the lorry back to its owner who had a delivery service. Maeve stood on the curb while Liam and the man had a short conversation. She felt exposed in the morning light. I need a bath.
Liam joined her. “Do you fancy some breakfast? I know a place that opens early.”
Maeve shook her head. “Honestly, I just want to get home. With any luck I’ll get in before anyone else is up and about.”
Liam nodded. “Right. That’s probably a good idea. You did well tonight.”
Her heart swelled with pride. “I’m not sure I did much.”
“You showed your mettle.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Uncle Liam.”
His voice was quiet. “I won’t give you a hug, but I’m proud of ye. Now, go on. Get home.”
When Maeve made her way to the kitchen door, it appeared that the house was still asleep. She didn’t see any lights burning and didn’t smell the tell-tale sign of cooking breakfast. She took her shoes off outside and carried them in. She crept up the stairs to her room, pulled off her clothes and crept in under the covers of her bed.
Her first foray for the Cause had been a perfect success, and she couldn’t wait for another opportunity.
Chapter Thirty-four
Dublin, September 1942
Maeve looked up from her breakfast to see her mother watching her. “What’s wrong?”
Bridie sat beside her daughter. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fit as a fiddle. Why? Do I not look all right?”
Bridie tilted her head. “I’m not sure. You slept most of the day yesterday, so something must be wrong.”
Maeve patted her mother’s hand before continuing with her porridge. “Mammy, I’m fine. The day of rest cured whatever it was that ailed me.”
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