Bridie put her hand to her mouth. “God Almighty.”
Emmet felt the blood pound in his temples. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that he realized it was me just as he was pulling the trigger and he wavered, throwing his aim off. If it had been anyone else, I would have been shot dead.”
Bridie was silently weeping.
Emmet leaned it to Maeve. “Can you tell us about it? From the beginning?”
Maeve shook her head. “I’m tired now. When you come back next time.”
He rose. “Of course. We’ll leave you now to get some sleep”
Emmet kissed Maeve’s forehead and then watched as Bridie stroked the girl’s face before kissing her first on one cheek and then the other.
Maeve’s face was ashen, her freckles and hair like stains on a white sheet.
• • •
Emmet and Bridie sat in the motor. He tapped his hands on the steering wheel. “What do we do now?”
“The Carsons are expecting us.”
“I can’t face Daniel.”
“No. But sure, he’ll be at his barracks, won’t he?”
Emmet nodded. “I suppose so.”
Still they sat. Bridie turned to look at Emmet. “Maeve seems to have forgiven the boy. In fact, she seems to credit him with saving her life.”
“He’s a British soldier. What the hell is he doing here shooting innocent Irish civilians?”
“Perhaps we should make our way to the Carsons and if things don’t go well, we’ll leave again and say we want to stay nearer the hospital.”
Emmet nodded. “You’re the wise one in the family, Bridie. What would have become of me if I hadn’t met you?”
She patted his hand. “Luckily, we’ll never know. Now, do you know where you are going?”
“I think so.” He pulled out a street map from his inside pocket and unfolded it.
He traced the route to show Bridie. “Your eyes are sharper than mine. Help guide me through this bollocks of a place.”
They drove slowly through the streets of Belfast until they found their way up the Antrim Road, to the stately home on Cliftonville Road.
Emmet parked the vehicle in front of the house, climbed out and walked around to open the door for Bridie. “I’ll give you a look if I want to leave, right?”
Bridie looked at Emmet’s deep frown and smiled. “If you look like that, they’ll ask us to leave.”
Emmet managed a wry smile. “All right. I’ll try to be a little subtler.”
The door of the end house opened before they had a chance to knock. Emmet recalled the strong, vibrant woman who had come to Dublin for their wedding. This small, thin silver-haired woman who held out trembling arms to pull Bridie into a hug looked nothing like that woman. Bridie broke down in tears and held Mrs. Carson close.
Mr. Carson appeared in the doorway. “Let them in, for goodness sake.”
Mrs. Carson released Bridie and nudged her towards the door. She turned to squeeze Emmet’s arm. “Come in now while James gets you a brandy.”
Emmet followed them in, feeling his defences crumble.
Inside, Mrs. Carson seemed stronger, as she gave directions to her servant. “Betty, take their coats and then get the kettle going for Mrs. Ryan and me.”
Emmet shrugged out of his coat and handed it to the girl. Mr. Carson touched his arm. “Come with me to the library and we’ll leave the ladies to their tea.”
Emmet sank into the leather chair beside the fire, resting his head against the high back.
Mr. Carson handed him a brandy. “Get this into you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Carson. It’s been a tough old day.”
“Please… call me James. The lass seems well, though. I saw her yesterday and it looks like she’s on the mend.”
Emmet felt the warmth of the brandy seeping into him. He was tired and was glad to be here. “You’re very kind to have us here.”
Mr. Carson waved his hand. “Nonsense. I was afraid you wouldn’t come because of Daniel.”
Emmet licked his lips, tasting the sweetness of the brandy. “I’ll admit I didn’t know if I could face you, but sure, you couldn’t control what happens with Daniel any more than I can control Maeve. In fact, I should have had more control over her.”
“No. We’ve hardly seen the lad since he’s been here. I admit we were shocked to find him here in Belfast. When we heard he’d joined up, we imagined him shipping out to France.”
Emmet downed the rest in one burning swallow and Mr. Carson stood up to top up the glass. Emmet nodded his thanks. “I hadn’t thought of it, but it must have been a shock all around, for you to hear that your nephew had joined the British army.”
“My wife’s nephew.”
Emmet smiled. “So, have you spoken with the boy, James? Will there be an investigation, or will they just pin a medal on him?”
Mr. Carson sank into the chair on the other side of the fire. “I’ve spoken to him. He’s destroyed by what’s happened. I don’t think there’ll be any investigation. As far as the authorities are concerned it was rightful, whatever any of the rest of us may think. Daniel, on the other hand is crippled with guilt. If he could get out of the army today, he’d do it.”
Emmet sighed. “It’s a mess.”
They sipped their brandies in silence, watching the low flames.
Emmet sighed. “He seemed like a good lad when we had him down in Dublin.”
Mr. Carson nodded. “He still is good. He tells me that he’s putting in the papers to transfer to the medical corps.”
“Sounds like more of a fit.”
“Can you forgive him?”
Emmet held the glass up to study the colour of the liquid against the fire. Held at a certain angle, it was a deep blood-red. He looked up at Carson. “I don’t know. At this moment, I hate him.” He sighed. “But who am I to forgive or not forgive? According to my wife, it’s all my fault that Maeve was here to get shot, and maybe she’s not wrong.”
“How’s that?”
“When she was young I talked about it all. The Cause of Ireland’s freedom was in my blood and I suppose I couldn’t help myself. It was all so new and powerful.” He bowed his head as he recalled all the times he told his stories, embellishing to make them more exciting for a youngster. He looked up again. “She was my first-born. I wanted her to understand and not take it for granted.”
Carson nodded for him to go on.
“When Collins signed the treaty, he knew he was signing his own death warrant. It was a betrayal of the Cause. We were all so angry about it. Ireland is one country and I, along with so many others couldn’t let it be.”
Carson frowned. “I’m sure I shouldn’t ask, but you aren’t in the IRA, though?”
Emmet shook his head. “You shouldn’t ask, but no. That doesn’t mean I haven’t believed in the Cause, though. I’m loyal.”
Carson shrugged. “Being loyal to an ideal isn’t a bad thing.”
“That’s how I’ve always felt.”
They were silent again and Carson loaded the fire with more turf.
Emmet’s voice was low. “Can a person be too loyal? Bridie thinks so. She thinks Maeve is lying in a hospital bed because I chose loyalty for my country over loyalty to my family.”
Carson shook his head. “You’ve always supported your family, Emmet. Anything I’ve ever heard and seen of you has shown me that you are a good husband and father.”
Emmet nodded. “That’s true. I have always supported them. They’re sponges, though, aren’t they? They soak up all those things we don’t even realize we’re saying or doing. Their attitudes and view of the world are shaped by what we say and do.” He felt his eyes burning when he looked at Carson. “I wanted to shape her ideas, but I-I didn’t expect to be so successful.”
Tap-tap-tap. Emmet jumped at the sound. Mrs. Carson opened the door. “Tea’s laid. Come and have something to eat, won’t you?”
Mr. Carson rose. “We’ll come now.”
<
br /> Emmet drained his drink and rose. He laid his hand on Mr. Carson’s arm before following Mrs. Carson to the dining room. “Thank you for listening, James.”
Carson nodded. “Maeve’s a strong-willed girl, Emmet. Don’t shoulder all the blame for what’s happened. She strikes me as someone who forms her own opinions.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Belfast, April 1943
Maeve woke and looked straight into Daniel’s eyes. “Hello.”
Daniel wiped his hands on his uniform trousers. “Hello yourself.”
“How long have you been sitting there?”
“A few minutes only. I didn’t want to wake you. I would have left in a few moments.”
Maeve licked her dry lips. “Can you pour me some water?”
Daniel poured water from the jug on her side table and then held the glass to her lips to help her drink. “Probably shouldn’t take too much.”
She lay back against the pillow. “Daniel…”
He held up a hand. “Please. Let me speak.”
She nodded.
He leaned in, his voice quiet. “Maeve, I didn’t want to shoot. At all. And then,” he closed his eyes briefly before continuing. “And then, when I suddenly knew it was you and it was too late to stop. My God. I dropped my rifle. My corporal had to pick it up and he was roaring at me the whole time, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I ran to you as quick as I could.”
“I can imagine.”
He shook his head. “It was like one of those nightmares where you’re running through quicksand. The seats of the theatre were a maze. I couldn’t get to you. I saw you fall. The stain of blood spreading across your chest. I was crying as I was trying to get to you. Not very soldierly.”
A phrase came to Maeve’s mind and she murmured:
But alas, she was going much too slow
For already on the brilliant white blouse
A purple patch of death was spreading across the middle of the back.
Daniel stared at her. “Yes. That’s how it was, only I was the one who went too slow. What’s that from?”
She thought for a moment. The drugs made her fuzzy. “It’s from O’Casey’s play, The Plough and the Stars.”
“You Irish have a way with words. You’re poetic.”
She gave a small smile. “You once recited poetry for us. You’re partly Irish too.”
Daniel leaned back in the chair. “I think that’s the problem. I never wanted to come here, Maeve. I like being near my aunt and uncle, but the looks people give me in my uniform. It’s been terrible. I want to say ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m one of you.’ I feel like that now. I didn’t used to, but now I do feel partly Irish. But I can’t say any of that because I’m a British soldier. They hate me.”
She studied him. “I don’t hate you.”
He leaned back in towards her and took her hand. “Can you ever forgive me, Maeve?”
She bit her lip. “You were doing your job. I understand that. What I can’t understand though, is how you can do that job, feeling as you do.”
“That’s just it. I can’t do this anymore. This is not what I signed up for. I thought I’d be going to France, but instead my unit was sent here. It was a shock. I feel more Irish here than when I’m at home, and yet I’m supposed to be on patrol, prepared to fire against Irish men.”
“And women.”
“Dear God. Yes. And women.”
“So, what will you do?”
“I have to wait to see what happens from all of this. I think they want it all to blow over as quickly as possible. They’re trying to say the shooting was rightful or some say accidental, but in any event, I don’t think there will be charges against me.”
“So it’ll be business as usual?”
“No, Maeve. I told you. I can’t be here at war with my own blood. I’ve requested a transfer to the medical corps and if that’s granted I’ll be shipped out. I think the unit wants rid of me as much as I want rid of them.”
“You can’t just get out, I suppose?”
“No. After the war is over, but not before.”
“I hate to think of you over there fighting.”
“Better than here fighting.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
Daniel still held her hand. “Maeve. I’ve thought of you so often. In fact, I was intending to try to get down to see you when I got some leave. When I suddenly saw you through my rifle sights, it was like a hallucination. I had pictured you so many times, for a split second I imagined you weren’t real.”
Maeve nodded. Her hand was comfortably warm in his. “I’ve thought of you as well. I wrote to you. Did you get my letter?”
He shook his head. “No, and now maybe it will never find me. What was in it? Maeve, can we still be friends?”
Maeve smiled. “In my letter I told you how much I enjoyed looking at the stars with you.”
He flushed and smiled, clearly remembering the kiss as well as she did.
Maeve squeezed his hand. “I believe our friendship will survive this.”
He nodded and heaved a great sigh. “I imagine my transfer will be granted, and then I’ll probably be going to North Africa. I can’t make any plans beyond that right now, but it would give me something to think about if I could write to you.”
“I’ll write back. I promise I will. I’m sorry I stopped before.”
“I’d like that.”
They were quiet for a moment and Daniel released her hand. He licked his lip. “I’ll have to see your parents.”
Maeve nodded. “My Da may not be too friendly.”
“Of course, he won’t be. I have to see them though. To apologize.”
“If he’s awful, don’t let it get you down. He’ll come around.”
“He doesn’t strike me as a man who relinquishes an idea easily. He’ll blame me for shooting you and may do until the day he dies.”
“I have some power over him.”
Daniel smiled. “Yes, I can believe that. We’ll see how it goes and if I need your magic touch, I’ll let you know.”
He stood. He took her hand again and kissed the back of it before laying it gently back on the white sheet.
Chapter Forty-Four
Belfast, April 1943
Emmet and Bridie had been with the Carsons for four days before they saw Daniel. Elizabeth had also arrived. Bridie and Elizabeth spent long hours together talking about neutral topics such as shopping and gardening. They didn’t talk about Elizabeth’s son, even though Emmet and Bridie both knew that she had seen him.
Daniel arrived one evening after supper.
Emmet heard the young man’s voice in the hall and looked at Bridie. His wife made a small ‘oh’ with her mouth and Emmet saw the worry in her eyes.
Elizabeth rose to meet Daniel at the door of the parlour. “Daniel, my boy. How are you?”
Daniel looked past his mother’s shoulder to Emmet. “I’m fine, Mother, thank you.”
He kissed her on the cheek and then stepped around her to stand before Emmet. Emmet rose, and they stood facing each other. Daniel’s face was flushed. His mouth worked as though he were trying to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.
Bridie rose also and slipped her arm through Emmet’s left arm, clinging to him. Emmet felt the warning weight of her hand on his arm.
Daniel held out his hand to shake Emmet’s. “I am profoundly sorry for what happened. There’s nothing you can say that will make me feel worse than I already do, and despite that, I want to ask if I have your permission to be friends with Maeve. We would like to write to each other.”
Emmet’s heart pounded, and his fists were balled as he stared at this British soldier whose hand now trembled, waiting for Emmet to shake it. In his mind’s ear, he heard Bridie’s voice. Your family or your cause. Where does your loyalty lie? Emmet knew how his daughter felt about this boy and knew what the price would be if he turned away in anger. For a moment, the face of his own f
ather-in-law came to him, denying him a blessing on his hopes with Bridie.
He felt a pressure on his arm from his wife and then he reached out and grasped Daniel’s hand.
“I know it wasn’t your fault, Daniel.”
Daniel’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, sir.” His hand clasped Emmet’s like a drowning man’s. “I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to shoot. My Corporal was right behind me shouting. ‘Take the shot, take the shot.’ I thought someone was about to shoot at us.”
Emmet nodded, leaving his hand clutched in Daniel’s.
Daniel’s voice was thick. “My finger was already squeezing. I was aiming at the fellow behind, not even seeing her. But then. Oh God. But then, she stepped in front.”
Emmet felt Bridie squeezing his arm. He closed his eyes and saw it. The momentum of the pull on the trigger already in motion and then Maeve appearing in his sights.
Daniel dropped Emmet’s hand as though suddenly aware he was still clinging to it. “I jerked, but it wasn’t enough.”
Emmet put his arm around his wife as she dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “We heard Maeve’s version, but appreciate hearing yours as well.”
Daniel turned to drop into a chair. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Emmet and Bridie sat together on the sofa while Elizabeth perched on the arm of her son’s chair. Mr. Carson had left the room but returned with glasses of whiskey for each of them.
Bridie shook her head, but Emmet lifted a glass from the tray and handed it to her. “Drink it. We all need it.”
Bridie took it, coughing as the fiery liquid went down.
Daniel took a glass and tossed the whiskey back in one gulp. “Mother, I’ve come tonight to let you know that my request for transfer to the medical corps has been approved. Apparently, they’re in desperate need for replacements in North Africa.”
Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand.
Daniel took her other hand in his. “I’m shipping out tomorrow.”
Tears slid down Elizabeth’s face. “I knew the day would come. I was grateful when you were sent here for training with the Americans, but I knew that one way or another, it was only temporary.”
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