She had been questioned about Rory’s whereabouts before. She’d been beaten up once during those interviews, threatened, screamed at, but she stuck to the story. The IRA, as the Volunteers had been renamed under Michael Collins, were clever. They had friends of the organisation in England post letters to the wives and families of soldiers, allegedly from them, to use as evidence that the men were not even in Ireland. It had worked for a while but now the authorities were wise to it. She was telling the truth that she hadn’t seen Rory in weeks though. He was down the country, training groups, known as Flying Columns.
Collins was an expert strategist and stuck to his policy that open warfare was a waste of resources and men, and ultimately not winnable. The way to beat the British was to use guerrilla tactics, so the men lived on the run, wore no uniforms and relied on the kindness of the people for food and shelter. They attacked police barracks in the dead of night, relieving them of their weapons and any intelligence they had gathered. British patrols were constantly ambushed. Collins had moles everywhere, and people said he even had his people inside Dublin Castle itself. Mary could well believe it, for Mrs Grant had been telling her only a few days before that a whole shipment of rifles, intended for the British Army, were intercepted by the IRA between the docks and the Barracks. The junior officer who was held responsible for the cock-up, after a bit too much to drink in the Hibernian Hotel, was bewildered and was heard complaining to his comrades that the only people who knew about the shipment were inside the Castle’s walls. The barman was IRA so the news got back quickly to Collins.
Mary had been so busy that she had become used to life without Rory. Though she missed him desperately and longed for some time with him, she knew he was doing what needed to be done and she understood it and supported him completely. Kathleen Clarke had kept her busy since she and Rory married in February of 1917 and moved back to Dublin. He needed to be in Dublin to be with Mick Collins, who was managing the war from the snugs of pubs and people’s living rooms. Tom Clarke’s widow had taken on responsibility for the families of those dead or in prison, and Mary was tireless in her efforts to help. She had asked Mrs Grant for her old job back and her former employer was thrilled to have her. The reality was Mary was no longer a maid. They lived very simply these days, but it gave her a place to call home and an alibi if she ever needed one.
Despite her Republican connections, Mrs Grant’s standing in society still meant something, so Mary was, to a certain extent protected. At least she had been until the IRA had stepped up the campaign in recent months. Now the British were suffering heavy losses, and like cornered rats they were nervous and at their most dangerous. Innocent people were being picked up for questioning every day, with no reason at all, and the city was gripped with fear. Often they would get news of a body thrown on the street after an interrogation, usually dead. Before she was picked up, she had been getting ready in her little bedroom to go to the station because she was going to visit the O’Dwyers and hopefully be here for the birth of Eileen and Teddy’s first baby. They were married two months after Rory and herself, but she joked with Eileen that there won’t be any O’Dwyer babies for a while. She’d have to see her husband for more than ten minutes at a time for that.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that soldiers had come to the back door of the Grants and dragged her out into the lorry. Had it really only been that morning? Mrs Kearns remonstrated with them as best she could, but they had orders to pick her up and they were not going to be dissuaded. Johnson had her put into a cell where she nearly went out of her mind with worry about what they were going to do to her. Eventually she was brought here, to this interrogation room.
Johnson threw the letter on the floor of the interrogation room and slammed his fist down heavily on the table in front of Mary. Grabbing her by both ears, he pulled her face close to his. His breath was sour and little globules of spit landed on her face as he spoke, ‘You listen to me, you stupid Fenian cow. I know perfectly well that Rory O’Dwyer isn’t in England, so enough of your lies, do you hear me? I swear to God, if you don’t start telling me the truth, by the time I’m finished with you, that bastard won’t even recognise you. Am I making myself clear? Those animals have a lot to answer for, and believe me, I will make them pay. You remember Grant? Your old employer? Well, he was a friend of mine, and I do not appreciate what your husband’s friends did to him, so I’m going to personally make sure both you and he suffer, do you understand?’
He released her ears, which were throbbing, and slapped her hard across the face. She fell from the chair and hit her head on the stone flags. She managed to get up but could feel the warm trickle down her face from where she was bleeding. She sat on the chair again and tried to focus. She must not say anything, no matter what happened. She’d been interrogated before and withstood it. She could do it again. She tried to picture Rory’s face, Mrs Kearns, Eileen, Mrs Grant, Tom and Kathleen Clarke, Padraic Pearse, the O’Dwyers. She summoned the strength of them all to her. Johnson was one of Grant’s associates, and she knew he was involved with all sorts of scams with him. The execution of the master would have meant the end of his lucrative little side line and he was furious. He had been biding his time to get his revenge.
‘Now, we’ll begin again. Where is Rory O’Dwyer?’ his voice was singsong and mocking.
‘I don’t know. England somewhere.’ Mary’s voice came out as strong as she hoped.
The thump to the side of her head left her reeling. The room spun and she felt nauseous. She felt the blows of his heavy boots kicking her in the kidneys and back as she covered her head and curled up her body away from the blows. She felt herself being dragged up by her hair. The seconds ticked by while she waited for what was to come.
‘Nice hair, I bet he likes to run his fingers through it, does he?’ The voice was soft, gentle. Mary opened her eyes, to see something metal and shiny in front of her face. It was a knife. She couldn’t register shock. He shoved her head down onto the table and began to cut off her hair. She was detached from the sight of her long red hair falling to the floor. She felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and something else, a tooth, no, two teeth. She felt with her tongue for the gaps, hoping it wasn’t her front teeth. Finished cutting her hair, he pulled her upright and held a surprisingly ornate mirror up to her face. He must have come prepared.
One eye was almost closed and the area around it swollen, blood flowed down the right side of her face, and her hair, what was left of it, was in tufts off her scalp. She noted with relief that her front teeth were still there.
He walked round to his side of the battered table again and sat down. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pair of pliers. Mary shuddered in terror, but was glad she had taken the advice of other women who’d been interrogated and had cut her nails as short as she could. He would have a difficult job finding enough nail to pull. As he examined her hand, the door opened.
An older man, with a neat grey moustache, entered the room.
‘A word, Johnson, if you please.’
The captain smiled at her and said in mocking tones, ‘If you’ll just excuse me a moment, Mrs O’Dwyer, I won’t be long.’
He went outside the room as Mary waited, trying to gather her strength. She said a quick prayer to Our Lady for the resolve to endure whatever was to come. And another to Rory, to be beside her.
The door opened again and this time there was no sign of Johnson, just the older man.
‘You may go.’ Was all he said, as he held the door of the cell open.
Mary did not wait for further instructions and stumbled after him and out the gate of the Castle onto the street. She knew she must look a sight and wondered how she was going to get home. Suddenly she heard a voice. ‘There she is.’ And Mrs Grant’s car pulled up on to the footpath. Jimmy and Mrs Kearns got out and between them they got her into the car.
‘My darling girl, what did he do to you? You poor child.’ Mrs Kearns was distraugh
t.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ Mary whispered. ‘He kept asking me about Rory, but I never said…’
‘I know you didn’t, pet, I know you didn’t. We’ll get you home now…’
Mary woke up in the guest bedroom of Mrs Grant’s. It was dark outside and she had no idea how she had got there. She felt awkward in this ornate room, wishing she was downstairs in her own little bed.
Every part of her hurt as the memories of her time at Captain Johnson’s mercy came back to her. She realised she was one of the lucky ones, He hadn’t even got into his stride by the time that other officer came in and interrupted him.
She tried to turn and see the clock on the bedside locker.
‘Shhh, don’t try to move, darling, do you want a drink?’
Mary thought she must be hallucinating or dreaming.
‘Rory?’ she croaked.
‘Yes, love, I’m here. My darling girl, what did he do to you? I’ll kill him…’ Rory was sobbing. She had never seen him so upset. He looked dreadful, unshaven and exhausted, and he’d lost even more weight since she’d seen him last.
‘I’m alright, really I am. I must look desperate though.’ She tried to smile. She was so happy to see him.
‘You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world, Mary O’Dwyer, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that. Oh Mary, I’m so sorry. I’m the reason they did this to you. I should have been here, to protect you. When Mrs Kearns got word to me that they had you and that it was that bastard Johnson was questioning you, I got Collins to use his influence. We have people in the castle, and while it was hard, he got you out. He normally wouldn’t do it, but I begged him and he managed it. Threatened one of them with something, I think. I don’t know exactly what, obviously, but I don’t care.’
Mary nodded and summoned up all her energy to speak. ‘He was just about to do something, I don’t know what, but this other man came in, older, with a head of grey hair and a moustache and he just told me to go. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, but I didn’t ask any questions, I just got out of there as fast as I could. Thank God Mrs Kearns and Jimmy were there, the state of me…’ Suddenly the reality of her ordeal dawned on her, her missing teeth, the cuts and bruises and all her hair gone. Every inch of her body ached. Rory hadn’t seen her in so long and now she looked like this. Sitting up she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror of the dresser opposite.
‘Dear God,’ she exclaimed, hardly recognising herself.
‘You’ll heal pet, and your hair will grow back. I know you must be in shock now, and I can’t say anything to help. In fact, I can’t even stay. I promised Mick that I wouldn’t stay here for fear they come looking for me. I’m putting everyone in danger just by being here but I had to see you. Johnson won’t like being over-ruled like that, so it’s just too dangerous for me or you for that matter to be here. He’s not only lost a fortune now that Grant is gone, but he knows that we know about the thing he had going. If the army were to find out, he’d be in serious trouble. He needs us out of the way.’
There was a knock on the door, and Mary started in fright.
‘Shh, pet it’s alright, the lads are outside, keeping lookout. We’re safe for now.’
Mrs Kearns wheeled Mrs Grant into the room.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Rory, but instructions are for you to leave. There was an ambush out Wicklow way somewhere and they are scouring the city looking for anyone that they can pick up. Patrols are everywhere so we need to get you away.’ Mrs Grant took in Mary’s stricken face.
‘I know, Mary my love, but he has to go. It’s not safe for him or for any of us, for Rory to be here. Collins only barely allowed it in the first place.’
She turned to Rory, ‘Don’t worry about her. We’ll take care of her.’
Rory stood up and went to the window, peeking out from the side to see what activity was on the street. He gave a slight wave, obviously to one of his comrades that he was on his way.
‘Right, listen carefully,’ he reached into his jacket pocket. ‘This is a ticket to Liverpool, and enough money to buy a ticket to America. As soon as you are anyway able, you have to go, Mary. Promise me you’ll send her?’ he pleaded with Mrs Grant, who nodded.
‘America! I’m not going to America! Not without you, Rory, I can’t go …’ Panic was rising in her. Surely Rory wasn’t sending her away, to America all on her own.
He sat on the side of the bed and clasped both her hands in his.
‘Mary, this is the last time I’ll ever make you promise me anything. I’ve done nothing but make demands and put you in danger since you laid eyes on me. You don’t deserve any of this. You are so brave and kind and I love you with all my heart and I always will, but please just do this one last thing for me. I just couldn’t bear it if he got his hands on you again, and he’ll try, I know he will. Mrs Grant has addresses of people who’ll help you when you get there, people who support us. And I swear to you, I’ll do everything I can to get you home the minute it’s safe. We’re close, Mary, we really are close and any day now Lloyd George is going to give in. He has to, the British losses are too heavy.’
The room stilled and suddenly the still night was a cacophony of shouts, vehicles and shots being fired as a roadblock was being set up at the other end of the street. Rory could still escape out the back but only if he went now.
‘I have to go. I’ll try to see you before you go, my darling Mary, but if I can’t, know I love you, and I’m thinking of you and praying for you every day of my life.’ He kissed her tender face gently and was gone.
Mary sobbed as Mrs Kearns rubbed her back and Mrs Grant held her hand.
‘Tis for the best, Mary, you know it is, but I know you’ll be heartbroken to leave him.’ Mrs Kearns was soothing, though Mary knew she was hiding her own anguish.
‘When do I have to go?’ Mary asked, knowing she sounded like a small girl, not a woman of twenty five.
Mrs Grant spoke gently, ‘Soon, but let’s not worry about it tonight. We’ll get you patched up a bit first, but Rory is right, Mary. That Captain Johnson will come looking for you again. He doesn’t like unfinished business. He must suspect that I know as well, though maybe not. My husband probably told him that I was unaware of anything, but he knows you and Rory know what he was up to and so he won’t rest until you are eliminated. So we are going to put the word around, Kathleen Clarke is taking care of it, that you are gone down to Rory’s family in Limerick. That should give us a bit of breathing space for a few days and then we can get you on the boat.’
‘A few days!’ Mary couldn’t disguise her horror.
‘The alternative is much worse, my dear, I’m sorry to say. You heard, Rory, you know what’s been going on. Things are getting very difficult even for the innocent bystanders, let alone those with known connections to the Republican movement. He’ll follow you over there and you’ll have a wonderful life together. Think of that, you can go ahead, get yourself set up, money will be no problem, I assure you of that, and you’ll have made a lovely home for you both by the time he joins you.’ Mrs Grant was trying to be positive, Mary understood that, but then another horrible thought came to her.
‘But what about you ,Mrs Kearns, and Eileen and her baby, and the O’Dwyers? I don’t want to leave you all.’
‘And we don’t want to lose you either, child. You’re like a daughter to myself and the mistress and we love you like you were our own flesh and blood. That’s why we have to get you out, until this is solved one way or another. Johnson won’t give up. He lost too much when Grant died and Rory is too connected. He’s Collins’ right hand man, and if they catch him, well, you know what will happen. He needs to stay on track and focus on the job, and if he’s half worrying about you to add to all his other worries, then the risk of him slipping up and getting caught is bigger.’
Mary wanted to beg them to come with her, to promise they’d visit, but she kne
w it was a promise they couldn’t keep. The mistress was too frail to travel and Mrs Kearns would more likely agree to go to the moon as go to America. When she said goodbye to them, it might be forever, and they all knew it.
The days dragged and flew simultaneously. Eileen had her baby, a boy she called Rory Óg, and they were both well. Peg and John had come up to Dublin to visit Mary, and to say goodbye, something that wrenched at her heart. They couldn’t hide their shock at her appearance and Peg tried unsuccessfully to hold back her tears. They held her tightly and told her it was all going to be alright, but like Mrs Kearns and the mistress, none of them was sure it was true. The fighting was intensifying all over the country and martial law had been imposed in several counties, making travel close to impossible. The fact that Rory’s parents had made such an effort to see her under such difficult conditions touched her heart.
Ten days after her release from Dublin Castle, Mrs Grant told her she was booked on the mail boat the following morning.
‘I’m sorry just to tell you, you’re going like this, as if you have no say in the matter, but I promised Rory, and you would never think it was the right time.’ Though her tone was firm and brooked no argument, Mary could hear the kindness and loneliness behind the words.
Travelling in the depths of winter, alone, and looking worse if anything, now that the bruising on her face was all shades of yellow and purple, filled Mary with dread. She knew the mistress was right, but it didn’t make leaving the only life she had ever known any easier. She had hoped Rory could have come to see her and she knew he would if he could, but the thoughts of going without seeing him gave her a stab of pain.
Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars Page 68