Across the Barricades

by Joan Lingard

  ‘I’d like it fine.’

  ‘You’ve devil enough in you for it, haven’t you?’

  Her eyes glinted. ‘My mother says I go out of the way to avoid the easy way round.’

  ‘If our mothers were to get together they would probably be saying the same things.’

  The words silenced them for they realized the impossibility of their mothers ever getting together.

  ‘Well,’ said Kevin lightly, jumping to his feet, ‘will we go?’ He held out his hand to her.

  They walked down the hill close together but not touching. Lights were springing up in the houses, the blue in the sky was deepening and changing. Every moment it looked different; new colours and shades merged and infiltrated the blue: pinks, yellows, turquoise, red.

  ‘Look at the sky,’ said Sadie. She felt she had never seen a sky before.

  They stopped to look at it and Kevin rested a hand on her shoulder. His hand was warm and she liked the feel of it.

  ‘It’s a fair sight,’ said Kevin. ‘You never see it properly from the street.’

  He held her hand as they descended the last part of the hill and kept hold of it once they had reached the bottom.

  ‘Would you like some chips?’ he asked. ‘My stomach feels in need of something tasty.’

  They walked along the main road towards the centre of the city. He told her of some of the funny things they turned up in the scrap business, and she recounted some amusing tales of the women who shopped in the hat department.

  He put his hand to touch her silky fair hair briefly. ‘I can’t imagine you with a hat on your head.’

  They saw a Coca-Cola sign shining ahead and smelt the chips before they reached the café. They went inside. It was warm and bright and a juke box was playing. She sat down at an empty table, he went to the counter to get their order.

  She glanced around her. The customers were nearly all teenagers sitting over cups of coffee and Coca-Cola. At the other side of the room she saw two girls she recognized : they worked in the same store. At the moment she saw them, they saw her too.

  They got up and came across to her.

  ‘Hi ya, Sadie. What are you doing round here?’

  ‘I’ve been up the Cave Hill.’

  ‘On your lone?’

  ‘No.’ She nodded towards Kevin where he stood in the queue.

  They looked him over carefully and rolled their eyes in approval.

  ‘Handsome looking fella. Where did you pick him up?’

  ‘I didn’t pick him up. I’ve known him a long time.’

  They examined him again with curiosity. The girls in the shop liked to spend their breaks talking about their boyfriends. Sadie seldom joined in for the talk bored her. They all had one thought in their minds: to get married as soon as possible.

  Kevin came back carrying two plates of fish and chips. He set them down on the table. Sadie introduced him reluctantly to the girls who flashed bright smiles at him, but as soon as she said his name she could see their thoughts ticking over. Kevin McCoy. A Catholic name, unmistakably Catholic. Sadie stared them hard in the eyes, daring them to show anything they were thinking.

  ‘Well, we’d better be getting along. See you the morn, Sadie.’

  They took another look at Kevin before they went out. They would be waiting for her in the cloakroom in the morning bursting with questions that she would not answer. There was no one better than Sadie Jackson at telling people to mind their own business.

  Sadie laughed.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Kevin.

  ‘Them two. They’ve got something to talk about all the rest of the way home.’

  ‘People have little to talk about,’ he said with disgust. ‘Come on, eat your fish and chips before they get cold.’

  Sadie discovered she was hungry after the fresh air up on the hillside. They ate quickly and then relaxed to drink their coffee. She asked him about the rest of his family.

  ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have now?’ she said. ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘There’s eight of us altogether. One more than when I last saw you and there’ll be another next month.’

  ‘Nine!’ she said in horror. ‘What a life for your mother!’

  ‘She’s happy enough,’ he said shortly.

  ‘Oh Kevin, don’t be daft, what woman wants to wear herself out bringing up a load of kids like that?’

  His face closed. He shrugged. He did not want to pursue it further but she would not let it die. She knew she was bad that way: often when it would be better to let something slide she went on determinedly.

  ‘How can you ever expect to have a decent life if you go on having all those numbers of kids? I don’t know why the Pope has to make you do it.’

  ‘You’re talking rot.’ He was angry now. ‘The Pope doesn’t make us. You Prods are all the same, you haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’

  They glared at one another across the table, then let their eyes fall. They did not want to fight, as they once had. Sadie swallowed hard before she spoke. She always found it difficult to withdraw.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t really mean it like that.’

  ‘That’s all right.’

  It was the first time since their meeting that evening that there was any unease between them. Kevin’s brow was creased and his eyes were dark. Sadie fiddled with the spoon in her saucer.

  ‘I wouldn’t have nine kids myself, mind you,’ he said.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t feed them.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I’ll leave you home.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything. I never do anything I don’t want to do. You should know that about me, Sadie Jackson.’

  She laughed and jumped up. ‘I know that. But it might be asking for trouble coming into my street.’

  ‘I’ll leave you at the head of it, I won’t come to your door. I wouldn’t want to give your ma a heart attack.’

  They were friends again. They walked, hand in hand, through the streets, skirting the areas that were strung with barbed-wire barricades or that they knew might be troublesome. Once they had to take shelter in a doorway to get out of the path of two men. The men were running, feet clattering on the pavement, their breath gushing out in loud rasps. As they passed, Sadie and Kevin saw the look of the hunted in their faces. Seconds later four soldiers thundered by. When the noise of their feet had faded Sadie and Kevin went on their way. They walked with a feeling of closeness for they knew that they were inviting trouble in walking together at all.

  5

  Mrs Jackson was watching a film on television so she did not hear Mrs Mullet coming into the house until she opened the kitchen door.

  ‘I called out,’ said Mrs Mullet, ‘but you didn’t hear me.’

  ‘I was watching the telly,’ said Mrs Jackson unnecessarily, her eyes still on it. The film had reached an exciting point and she was unwilling to put it off for the sake of Mrs Mullet whom she saw every day of her life. There were times when she wished the woman lived on the far side of Belfast. She had the longest tongue in the street and seemed to have little else to do all day but lean against her door jamb and wait for passers-by with whom she could trade bits of news. The news nearly always tended to be rumours, and usually scandalous. Mrs Mullet was frequently declaring herself horrified.

  She stood by the kitchen door now, in her high spiky-heeled shoes, of the kind that had ceased to be fashionable years ago. It was not that Mrs Jackson was fashionable herself, but Mrs Mullet liked to pride herself on her clothes sense.

  ‘I’ll take the weight off me feet,’ she said. ‘Me legs are killing me the day. I’ve never been off the go.’

  ‘Sit down for a minute then.’ Mrs Jackson got up and turned down the sound of the television to a low murmur, but kept the picture as it was.

  Mrs Mullet collapsed into Mr Jackson’s armchair and kicked off her shoes. ‘That’s better.’<
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  Mrs Jackson eyed her suspiciously. She had either come to gossip, or to borrow. A quarter pound of tea here and a couple of eggs there. She lived off the street, Mrs Jackson had often remarked to her husband; it was no wonder she could forever be affording to buy new clothes for herself and Linda. She came often these days to talk about Tommy and Linda. She liked Tommy, thought he was a nice steady lad, and was hoping for a match. Mrs Jackson was hoping that Tommy would have more sense.

  ‘Tommy’s out with Linda tonight then,’ said Mrs Mullet. Mrs Jackson was not looking at her; she was watching the moving figures on the screen. They seem right fond of each other.’

  They’re very young.’

  ‘Kids are getting married younger all the time.’

  Mrs Jackson looked at her now. ‘More fool them!’

  ‘Oh, come now, Mrs Jackson, what a thing to say! Why shouldn’t they if that’s what they want.’

  ‘They want to see a bit of life first instead of getting tied down to a wife and a couple of kids.’

  Mrs Mullet pursed her lips. ‘I married at seventeen and I can’t say I’ve ever regretted it.’

  ‘Are you wanting a cup of tea?’ asked Mrs Jackson, determined to have no more of the subject.

  ‘Wouldn’t say no.’

  Mrs Jackson put on the kettle and laid out a few biscuits on a plate.

  ‘Sadie out too the night?’

  Mrs Jackson’s back stiffened. ‘Well, she’s not in.’

  Mrs Jackson infused the tea and set it on a low gas.

  ‘Linda saw her on the way home.’

  She placed two cups on the draining board. ‘You take milk and sugar, don’t you, Mrs Mullet?’

  ‘Two sugars please. Yes, Linda was saying she saw Sadie waiting on a bus.’

  Mrs Jackson poured the tea and gave a cup to Mrs Mullet. Then she sat herself down and faced the television squarely. ‘Would you like to see the film?’

  ‘Not particularly. I’ve seen it before anyway.’

  They drank their tea and ate biscuits to the low accompanying hum of the television set. Mrs Jackson was bracing herself for the next remark.

  ‘I know it’s none of my business, Mrs Jackson, but I wouldn’t like Sadie to get into any harm –’

  Mrs Jackson cut her off. ‘That’s all right, Mrs Mullet. You don’t need to worry about Sadie for me. She’s got her head screwed on.’

  There’s been times when it seems to come a bit loose. Oh, I’m not criticizing her, don’t think that for a minute. You know I’m right fond of her and she and linda have been as thick as thieves since they were in the cradle.’

  Mrs Jackson rose and turned up the volume of the television. The film was a Western and the sound of gunshots and galloping hooves drowned out the voice of Mrs Mullet.

  The door scraped open and Mr Jackson put his head round it. ‘I’m back, Aggie. Oh hello there, Mrs Mullet, how are you?’

  ‘No so bad.’

  ‘You’ll be wanting your supper?’ Mrs Jackson said to her husband.

  ‘Could do with a cup of tea at any rate. Your husband’s home from the meeting now, Mrs Mullet. Looking for his supper too, I bet.’

  ‘You men never think of anything but your stomachs !’ Mrs Mullet got up.’ ‘I’ll be seeing you.’

  She went out.

  Mrs Jackson turned the television sound right down. ‘That woman gives me the dry bokes!’

  Mr Jackson laughed and rubbed his hands together. He had had a pint of Guinness on the way back from the meeting and was in good form.

  ‘Aggie, what a thing to say! I heard you telling Sadie off the other day for using the word.’

  ‘I’d tell her off if she was here right now. The trouble she gets us in to! She’s always causing talk in this street, Jim, and it’s time she was stopping. I’m sick of that Mullet woman coming over here to tell me the latest gossip about Sadie.’

  ‘Ah, Sadie’s all right.’

  ‘Hanging about with a Mick? Do you not mind that?’

  Mr Jackson’s face sobered. ‘I mind that all right. But there may be nothing to it. We’ve only got Linda’s word for it and I wouldn’t take her word for gospel.’

  Linda’s mother closed the front door behind her after hearing the first part of the Jacksons’ conversation. So old woman Jackson was sick of her coming over, was she? Mrs Mullet tossed her head. She’d not let that pass. She would see to it that the street knew what was going on and would have no qualms about it. There was nothing wrong in telling the truth, and they had to protect themselves from Catholic infiltrators. That’s why their men went to their Lodges and walked in parades: they were defending their faith. She crossed the street. There was no one in sight except for four small boys playing at soldiers. They were wearing khaki anoraks and soldiers’ berets that they had filched somewhere. She went into her own house to tell the story to Mr Mullet. He was reading the greyhound racing results in the evening paper and seemed more interested in them than the treachery of Mrs Jackson.

  ‘She’s a decent enough woman,’ was all he said.

  ‘My Gawd, you men! What would you say if our Linda was walking out with a Mick?’

  ‘But she’s not, is she?’ he said mildly, not even lifting his head. ‘Tommy’s a good Protestant even if he doesn’t belong to the Lodge.’

  Mrs Mullet returned to the doorway where she stood watching the light failing over the street. The only person she saw was old Granny McEvoy, wrapped in her grey shawl out looking for her cat. But Granny McEvoy was almost stone deaf and got the whole story wrong so Mrs Mullet gave up in despair. She had to put up with ten minutes of the old woman telling her how her man had fought with the Specials at the time of the partition of Ireland, and escaped death by inches. Mrs Mullet had heard the story so often that she could have retold it backwards.

  ‘He was a real patriot,’ said Granny, gathering her shawl around her. ‘And now you’re telling me we’ve got Micks living in this street?’

  ‘No, no, Granny, away ye go and get your cat. That wasn’t what I was saying at all.’

  Granny shuffled off calling for the cat. Mrs Mullet looked up the street thinking it was time that Tommy and Linda were coming home. The pictures would have finished half an hour ago at least.

  Tommy and Linda were sitting in a café drinking coffee. Linda had enjoyed the film, she had had a good cry at one point, but Tommy had been bored. He supposed that was part of the price you had to pay when you took a girl out. He quite liked taking Linda out. She could be very soft and sweet, and it was nice to sit in the cinema holding her hand.

  ‘Here’s Steve,’ said Linda.

  Steve was Tommy’s friend from schooldays. He was rather keen on Sadie but she said he bored her, he had no imagination. It was seldom that she went out more than twice with any boy.

  ‘Can I join you?’ said Steve.

  ‘Sure.’ Tommy pulled up a chair.

  Steve sat down.

  ‘We’ve been to the pictures,’ said Linda.

  ‘Guess where I’ve been?’ said Steve to Tommy. ‘I’ve joined the Lodge.’

  Tommy said nothing.

  ‘I keep telling Tommy he ought to join,’ said Linda. ‘After all most of the men round here belong. I’d like to see him walking on the “Twelfth”.’

  Tommy shrugged.

  ‘Why don’t you, Tommy?’ said Steve. ‘You could still play in the band.’

  Tommy had once wanted to play the flute in the Junior Pipe Band, but that was before the fight in which Brede had almost been killed. That night when they thought she might die he had decided not to walk in the Orange parade. Both Linda and Steve knew that, though neither could understand it, and he could not quite explain it. It was not as if he had changed his allegiance: he would never do that. As far as he was concerned, Ulster must stay British and Protestant.

  ‘Sure it’s good crack apart from anything else,’ said Steve.

  ‘I like the “Twelfth”,’ said Linda. The bands playing and all that.’


  ‘I think we should be getting home, Linda,’ said Tommy.

  ‘You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?’ said Linda.

  ‘I think perhaps he isn’t much of a Loyalist when it comes to the bit,’ said Steve. ‘There’s times when you have to stand up and be counted.’

  Tommy stood up. ‘Are you coming, Linda?’

  She followed him out. ‘You don’t even speak up for yourself,’ she said with annoyance.

  ‘I don’t see why I should, Steve doesn’t have to tell me what to do.’

  ‘But the other men won’t like it, Tommy, if you don’t join in with them.’

  ‘Why should I care about that? Anyway, not everybody belongs to the Orange Order just because they’re Protestants. Lots of lads in the yard don’t.’

  ‘But most of the men in the street do.’

  ‘Forget it, Linda,’ he said quietly.

  ‘All right,’ she sighed.

  He saw Sadie and Kevin ahead before Linda did. For a minute he thought of wheeling Linda about and taking her back along the road but it was too late. She had seen them too.

  ‘Isn’t that Sadie?’ she said excitedly.

  Sadie and Kevin were standing at the end of the street. They turned as Tommy and Linda approached.

  ‘Hello, you two.’ Sadie’s voice was loud and defiant.

  ‘Hello, Tommy.’ Kevin spoke more quietly.

  ‘Hello, Kevin.’

  For a moment there was silence. Tommy and Kevin looked at one another, each wishing to speak, not knowing what to say.

  ‘How’ve you been?’ asked Kevin at last.

  ‘Fine.’

  There was a further silence and then Tommy said, ‘How’s Brede?’

  ‘O.K.’

  ‘Tell her I was asking for her.’

  ‘I will.’ Kevin scuffed his foot against the edge of the kerb. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better be going. Nice to see you again, Tommy.’ He nodded at Linda. ‘Good night, Sadie.’

  ‘Good night, Kevin,’ said Sadie.

  He walked quickly away,

  ‘He’d need to walk fast in case any of our boys get the hold of him,’ said Linda.