Eden Burning

by Deirdre Quiery

  While the congregation were being jostled off the altar towards the monastery by Father Martin, on the third bench sat Mr McCabe, Peter, Rose and Tom. Mr McCabe whispered into Peter’s ear, “I’ve a rather soft spot for that MG, I hope it survives. We need to move.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the back of the church where the action is, it’s the only place to be.”

  “Cedric is there.”

  “I see that. We have to go into the dragon’s den. Didn’t anyone tell you, that my dear boy? He appears to have had a change of heart. More of a kitten don’t you think than a dragon?”

  “I can’t be sure. What’s Mum doing?” Peter pointed at Eileen who was talking in a low voice to Cedric.

  “What should we do?” Tom tapped on Mr McCabe’s shoulder.

  “Help Father Anthony.” Rose pulled off her hat and threw it on the bench. “I’m boiling.” Her cheeks were fiery red.

  “You might have a temperature.” Tom put his hand on her forehead. “You’re not well.”

  Mr McCabe leaned forward. “Tom, I think that you should go into the monastery with Rose and wait for the all clear. That is the safest option.” Mr McCabe touched Rose on the cheek. “Do you not agree?”

  “Mr McCabe, I don’t think so. You don’t know what’s going to happen. If that is Cedric, he doesn’t look as though he is going to murder me or anyone. Why would he warn us about the car bomb? It’s Father Anthony who needs help.”

  Peter got to his feet. “Rose, Mr McCabe is right. I don’t know what has got into Cedric but it doesn’t mean that you are not at risk. Where’s William? How do you know what he will do?” Peter took Rose’s hands in his. “Once the car bomb is sorted you can go to the safe house as planned tonight.”

  “No. I’m staying with Father Anthony.”

  “Why?” Tom asked. “Why? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does to me.”

  “Explain.”

  “Father Anthony is my father.”

  Tom’s mouth dropped open. His glasses steamed up in a mysterious way which meant that Rose couldn’t see his eyes at all. She could only watch his lips turning slightly purple and continuing to open and close. She grabbed her hat from the bench, pulled it onto her head and down almost over her eyes. In the ensuing silence Rose explained.

  “Father Anthony told me that he was my father when I made my First Confession.”

  “But that was eight or nine years ago. Why didn’t you tell your aunt Lily?”

  “If Father Anthony had wanted you to know he would have told you. He must have had good reasons for not telling you.”

  “What were they?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he thought that he would not have been allowed to have contact with me?”

  “How do you know that it is true? How do you know that he is your father?”

  “I know. He explained it all bit by bit. He didn’t tell me everything at the start – only what he thought I needed to know. Then year by year he added small pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. In the end I understood it all and saw the whole picture.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “No. He blessed this ring a second time, today.” Rose held out her left hand showing Catherine’s ring.

  “I wish you had told Lily and me.”

  “What difference would it have made?”

  “I don’t know.” Tom rubbed his hands on his trousers and looked at the floor.

  “I don’t want to leave Father Anthony.”

  Mr McCabe coughed. “Well, Peter and I had no intention of ever leaving him either. So let’s see what we can do to help.”

  He placed his brown felt hat on his head, nudging Peter who jumped to his feet. They genuflected at the end of the bench, blessed themselves and headed towards the back of the church. Rose and Tom followed.

  As they walked in single file Father Martin extinguished the lights on the main altar and the light now came from two small lights on either side of the front door and the small votive candles burning in memory of everyone who had died, or who was sick. There were more than fifty candles twinkling at the back of the church at the feet of the statute to the Little Flower. The sweet spicy smell of frankincense hung in the air, forming a cloud above Cedric’s head.

  Cedric watched Peter and Mr McCabe walk towards him down the aisle. As Peter approached he rubbed a leather glove through his hair.

  “There’s no time to explain Peter. I will later.”

  Peter shouted after him. “What about Rose?”

  Without saying a word, Cedric turned on his heels and headed towards the back door. Father Anthony, watching Cedric disappear, thrust Sammy P into Tom’s hands.

  “Hold onto him Tom until the police arrive.”

  Tom looked closely at Father Anthony as he took hold of Sammy P. He saw for the first time the dark rings under his eyes, speckled grey hairs around his temple. Father Anthony looked worn out, like a man who had no choice other than to keep going. Tom nodded and caught Sammy P’s two hands behind his back. Sammy P wriggled trying to free himself.

  “Peter, can you use my tie to secure his hands?”

  Peter undid Tom’s blue silk tie, twisted it tightly around Sammy P’s wrists and tied a double knot. “I’m not sure if that will hold him.”

  Father Anthony looked at Mr McCabe. “Will you take care of this?” he asked, passing him the rifle.

  “My dear Father, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with it.”

  “It’s not complicated. Don’t point this bit with the hole in it in your own direction or in the direction of anyone you think not worthy of it.”

  Mr McCabe took the rifle in his arms, holding it like a bouquet of flowers.

  “Tom, don’t let him get away. He’s strong.”

  With his black habit flapping behind him, Father Anthony followed Cedric through the front door of the church.

  Cedric jumped down the steps three at a time, zipping up his back leather jacket and rubbing his leather gloves together. A crescent moon rose in the east. With the sky completely clear of clouds, Cedric’s breath left a cloud of white behind him as his boots crunched on the gravel. He sprinted past the red Mini Cooper and Mr McCabe’s white MG, turning right and heading for the Crumlin Road and the army sentry post. He heard the cursing of the rioters on the Crumlin Road and only briefly hesitated before turning onto the road where the smell of burning petrol hit the back of his throat. He coughed heavily. A handful of rioters broke up pavement slabs with heavy picks and hammers while others threw a series of well-aimed petrol bombs at the sentry post.

  “Go home, you fucking British bastards.”

  Cedric stopped outside the church gates and looked left. A Saracen tank turned onto the Crumlin Road from the Woodvale. It spun around, the window flaps opened and the short barrels of rubber bullet guns were pushed through the windows. The roof of the sentry post blazed with a direct hit from a petrol bomb. Another petrol bomb arced into the air before crashing onto the bonnet of the Saracen. Four rounds of rubber bullets rocketed into the rioters.

  How could he get a message to the soldiers? If he ran towards the Saracen they would think he was one of the rioters. A crowd of around thirty rioters retreated into Kerrera Street, a side street off the Crumlin Road. Silence followed another four thick bangs from the rubber bullet guns. The black bullets bounced into Kerrera Street, springing into the air after hitting the tarmac road before punching two rioters in the back.

  “More! More!” The rioters taunted. Within seconds, undaunted, they swarmed back onto the road with new ammunition, including chunks of heavy paving stones which flew through the air. The rioters now tied handkerchiefs soaked in water around their faces anticipating the arrival of CS Gas. Cedric looked at his watch. Seven minutes to go. Father Anthony’s muffled sandaled feet stopped behind him.

  “How do I let them know about the bomb?” asked Cedric, pointing at the Saracen tank. His were eyes wide open, his breathing fast and shallow. “W
e’ve less than seven minutes.”

  “Leave it to me. I’ll talk to them. Give me the keys.” Father Anthony took the car keys from Cedric’s outstretched hand.

  He moved towards the Saracen tank as it pulled into the middle of the Crumlin Road forming a blockade. Two more Saracens arrived, mounting the pavements on either side. The road was completely sealed off. The soldiers bundled onto the road, visors down, wooden batons hanging from their waists, rifles now pointing into the crowd.

  Father Anthony stood in front of them, in the middle of the Crumlin Road, waving a white handkerchief. The soldiers were lined up in front of him.

  “Everyone keep back. There’s a car bomb. Get way back off the road.” He turned to wave the white handkerchief at the rioters who had momentarily fallen silent. He shouted again. “Get back. There’s a car bomb.”

  The rioters withdrew into Kerrera Street, milling around an entry lane which was an artery leading into the heart of Ardoyne. They began to run down the entry away from the Crumlin Road. Father Anthony dropped his handkerchief to his side and walked to the middle Saracen tank which was flanked by the first row of soldiers. He handed the car keys to Matt.

  “It’s a red mini-cooper and you’ve less than seven minutes.”

  Matt signalled to the bomb disposal expert at his side. “Let’s go.”

  Cedric and Father Anthony watched them run through the church gates.

  “They’ll never do it will they?” Cedric asked Father Anthony.

  “God knows. What do we do now?”

  “They’ve six minutes.”

  • • •

  William turned left onto the Crumlin Road and saw the nationalist rioters at Butler Street and further up near the top of Brompton Park. “Lily, we’re driving into a riot but there’s no going back.”

  He didn’t see an armed Ciaran McCann pressed against the red brick wall beside Blackwoods on the corner of Butler Street. Ciaran spotted the black taxi. He recognised Lily inside.

  “The black taxi – stop it. It’s not one of ours. He’s got Lily Martin. Stop him!”

  William pressed his foot onto the accelerator but not quickly enough to prevent three rioters throwing themselves onto the car bonnet, while two others caught hold of the side door handles, running along beside the taxi. Three faces squashed against the glass in front of William, lips open, kissing the windscreen.

  Unable to see anything, William instinctively began to accelerate and swung to the right and then immediately left in an attempt to dislodge them. He succeeded in losing two rioters hanging onto the handles of the car doors but the three on top of the bonnet held onto the windscreen wipers and stared at William with faces pressing even more heavily against the glass.

  “Get off the car,” Ciaran shouted, giving a signal that he was going to use his gun. The rioters clinging onto the window wipers let go, rolling head over heels on the ground, and then scrambling onto their feet to melt into the wave of rioters in Butler Street. Ciaran lifted the rifle into the air, aimed it at the tyres of the taxi. Three high velocity shots rang out. The bullets pummelled into the tarmac road, sending dust and debris into the air. He missed the tyres. He caught sight of William and Lily’s faces in the light of one of two streetlights still working on the Crumlin Road.

  “Get out Lily! They think I’m kidnapping you. Get out!” William braked a second time. The taxi shrieked and shuddered to a stop. Lily opened the front door and fell onto the road. William immediately accelerated. Ciaran gave a signal to the rioters to return to the road.

  “Don’t let him get away,” Ciaran McCann shouted as he helped Lily to her feet.

  “He wasn’t kidnapping me. You’ve made a big mistake,” Lily shouted as Ciaran McCann took her by the arm and led her to the side of the road. “There’s a car bomb. He’s trying to stop it going off.”

  “How do you know?” Ciaran looked at Lily. He aimed once more at the taxi. This time he scored a direct hit as the back windscreen shattered. He passed the rifle to Sean.

  “Get rid of it.”

  Ciaran shouted at the rioters. “After him. Don’t let him escape.”

  He watched four rioters run after the black taxi and turned to Lily. He bent down to dust the gravel from Lily’s camel coat.

  “What were you doing in the taxi, Lily?” He caught Lily by the wrist.

  “Let me go.” Lily pulled free from Ciaran’s grip.

  “Lily, I was worried about you.”

  “How can I believe that you are worrying about me after what you did to Margaret Mulvenna?”

  “Lily, I told Tom I’m giving myself up tonight. I promised Tom. I am handing myself over to the police. I’m only here on the Crumlin Road to be arrested. Tom has set it up that way with your friend Sammy. Now do you believe me? I had to make it look as though I was on an operation, to make it look real.” Ciaran dropped his two hands by his side. He stared at the tarmac road as he took a step back.

  “What can I say, Ciaran?” Lily patted Ciaran on the shoulder.

  “I thought he was one of Paddy and Michael’s killers. He fits the description given by the police today for one of Anthony Magee’s murderers. Everyone knows they’re Paddy and Michael’s killers, too.”

  “I have to go, Ciaran. Keep your word with Tom.” She looked into Ciaran’s eyes and leant forward and kissed him on the cheek before twisting her way through rioters up the Crumlin Road.

  Sean watched and shouted in exasperation. “Have you lost your balls Ciaran? Wise up. Don’t take any shit from anyone and that includes Lily Martin.” Sean swung round to see three police jeeps race up the Crumlin Road. “Bigger shit on the way Ciaran – here come the police.”

  Sammy jumped from the first jeep and headed straight for Ciaran, spread-eagling him against the red brick wall, while Sean whistled to Danny. They took a right turn and then a left out of sight, heading towards the action further up the Crumlin.

  • • •

  William pressed his foot again on the accelerator. He watched the rioters near Kerrera Street scamper off the Crumlin Road. Three Saracen tanks blocked the way forward but that didn’t matter. He was planning to turn left into the church grounds. That’s where Sammy P had left the mini.

  Lily watched as William’s taxi approached the church gates. She breathlessly continued uphill, pushing her way through another group of rioters bunching together at Butler Street. Sean ran past her, catching up on a gang of four who had nearly reached William’s taxi.

  Lily’s chest tightened. She felt a strange pain in the middle of her back which she had never felt before. Deep within her body she felt something moving, pushing and sinking, sending shudders of nausea up and down her spine rather than into her stomach. Her body was doing something that she couldn’t stop for reasons that she didn’t know. She attempted to take a few deep breaths but the movement of pulling and pushing in her chest area continued and expanded all the way down to the base of her spine.

  She reached the long set of steps which led from the Crumlin Road to the main church doors. The doors were open and the gentle mellow light from inside trickled down the steps into the Grove. She took three steps and had to stop as beads of sweat broke onto her forehead. She tried to take another step but fainted and sank to the ground on the fourth step. Her beige beret slipped from her head, her handbag rolled to one side, and one of her black patent high heel shoes slipped from her foot and tumbled onto the Crumlin Road.

  • • •

  “Let’s go into the monastery,” Tom suggested, holding Sammy P’s arm.

  “You go. I can’t,” Eileen whispered. “I need to find William and Cedric. Peter, please go into the monastery. I promise that I’ll see you there later. I’ll be back.” Eileen pulled a silk scarf onto her head, buttoned up her coat, kissed Peter on the cheek.

  “Tom, can I have a word?” While Tom held onto Sammy P, Eileen indicated that they move to the statue of the Little Flower, where she began to talk in a low voice. At one point Tom seemed to let go
of Sammy P and then held him even more closely. When Eileen had finished with a few shakes of her head, she rested her hand on Tom’s face. She walked then towards Peter. Peter hugged Eileen. She felt small and fragile in his arms, dissolving into them like melted ice-cream. She whispered into his ear, “You don’t need to worry about Rose. Cedric and William have promised there will be no more killings.”

  “Mum, are you one hundred per cent sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Let me come with you? You can’t go alone.”

  “I want you to stay here. You’re still needed here. It isn’t over yet.” Eileen gently squeezed his hand.

  “But you said that there will be no more killings.”

  “I said not from Cedric and William. Keep an eye on him. He looks dangerous.” Eileen pulled back from Peter’s embrace and looked in the direction of Sammy P.

  Sammy P shouted at Eileen, “Be careful who you’re talking about and who you talk to. Remember loose talk costs lives. You’re not the only one who has a tongue and tongues can talk. William and Cedric might just find out just how loud tongues can talk after I speak to my lawyer.”

  Eileen looked at Peter. She smoothed a few curls from his forehead. “It will be over soon. I promise.”

  As Eileen left the Church and ran down the steps, Sammy P took advantage of the momentary distraction to pull free from Tom. He had already slipped his hands free from the tie which lay unseen at his feet. He caught his two hands together as though he was about to take a putt at golf and then with an almighty swing smashed his fists into Tom’s lower stomach. Tom exhaled with a hissing sound, bent over, his glasses crashing onto the ground where the lenses fell out, spinning like coins before settling unbroken onto the marble slabs.

  Sammy P grabbed the rifle nestling in Mr McCabe’s arms. Peter lunged towards him in a rugby tackle. Sammy P stepped to one side. Peter crashed onto the floor, arms and hands spread out. Sammy P took two steps towards the stretched out body, standing over him, pointed the rifle at Peter’s head.

  “Any more of where that came from and you’re a goner. I don’t care if you’re Cedric’s fucking brother. He’s cuckoo anyway.”