Spies

by Brian Gallagher

  He waited expectantly, then the door opened, and Mrs Hanlon stood before him, her piercing blue eyes seeming to weigh him up.

  ‘Johnny,’ she said. ‘You made good time. Come in.’

  Johnny entered the living room, which was furnished much more expensively than the downstairs parlour. He barely had time to notice the good taste of the décor when Mr O’Shea rose from an armchair before the fire.

  ‘Johnny, good to see you again!’ he said, offering his hand.

  ‘Good to see you too, Mr O,’ answered Johnny as they shook hands warmly.

  He noticed that O’Shea looked tired, and although clean shaven and well dressed, he didn’t look as dapper as when he had stayed at the Mill Hotel as a traveller for Glentoran Whiskey. On the other hand he showed no marks that suggested being beaten up during his weeks of captivity, and Johnny was relieved.

  ‘Let’s sit at the fire,’ suggested Mrs Hanlon. ‘Bridget will serve some food after we chat.’

  ‘Great,’ said Johnny, tired after a busy day and happy to take the weight off his feet in a comfortable armchair.

  They all settled themselves, then O’Shea spoke, his tone serious.

  ‘I just want to say, Johnny, I’m grateful for your help in springing me. Very grateful.’

  ‘You’re welcome. But I just played a small part.’

  ‘No, son, you played a key part, and I’m in your debt.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Johnny. ‘Though if it comes to that, I’m in your debt too.’

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘When you were arrested you never told them about me. I’m sure…I’m sure they tried to make you name names.’

  A hard look came into Mr O’Shea’s eyes and he spoke flatly. ‘They did. But they were never, ever going to hear your name from me.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And now I hear you’re doing good work again,’ said O’Shea, his tone brightening.

  ‘I’m happy to help any way I can.’

  ‘I know that, Johnny. And to show it works both ways, I’ve been spoken to by the Boss. About the orphanage.’

  Johnny realised that his request to Michael Collins hadn’t been dismissed and he felt a surge of excitement. ‘Really?’

  ‘Maybe next week you and I could pay a visit to St Mary’s. See can we get some answers. What do you think?’

  ‘That would be great. The only thing is….the brothers are very…they mightn’t want to co-operate.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  The firm way O’Shea said it gave Johnny hope. ‘You really think we could get some information?’

  ‘Leave the brothers to me. Will we say Tuesday evening?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, absolutely!’

  ‘OK, Tuesday it is so.’

  Johnny could hardly believe it. After all these years maybe he could finally find out about his family. Mrs Hanlon and O’Shea began discussing the best way to travel to St Mary’s Orphanage, but Johnny barely listened, his mind racing as he wished away the hours till Tuesday night.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I’ve bad news!’ said Alice, slipping onto a chair opposite Stella, as her friend had breakfast in the dining room of the Mill.

  ‘What?’ asked Stella, pushing aside her teacup.

  ‘I can’t go to Dublin. It’s so annoying!’

  It was Saturday morning, and the girls had planned to take an early train to the city in their quest to make contact with Johnny.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  Alice tried to dampen her frustration and she spoke more calmly. ‘It’s my own fault. I pushed Mam to get involved in tomorrow’s Sports Day. And now she’s agreed to doing the catering, and I have to help.’

  ‘I thought she didn’t want to get involved.’

  ‘She didn’t. But I told her we’re seen as too pro-British, and besides, the Sports Day is to help the people of Balbriggan, so we should play our part.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘And now Mam, being Mam, wants to do it properly – first class catering.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Not fair enough, Stella! I’ll be stuck here helping.’

  ‘Did you try to get out of it?’

  ‘Yes, but I can’t protest too much without sounding suspicious. She’ll just say to visit the museum another Saturday.’

  ‘I suppose we could put it off for a week,’ said Stella.

  ‘Or you could still go.’

  ‘On my own?’

  ‘Why not? We want to know what’s going on with Johnny.’

  ‘Well, yes, but––’

  ‘God knows what could happen in another week, Stella. The sooner we find him the better.’ Alice could see that her friend was torn. ‘Look,’ she said persuasively. ‘You’ve told your dad that you’re going to Dublin with me and Bernie Dowling, right?

  ‘Yes, I said we’re doing a class project.’

  ‘So take the chance while you have it. Maybe next week he’ll want you to spend the day with him, or there’ll be some other problem.’

  Still Stella hesitated, and Alice felt a little guilty. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I don’t mean to bully you. If you want to leave it, we can both go another time.’

  To her surprise, Stella shook her head. ‘No, you’re right, we shouldn’t put this off. I know my way around Dublin, there’s no excuse. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Alice felt a surge of affection and she reached out and squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘Well done, Stells, you’re a gem!’

  * * *

  The policeman walked towards Stella, his eyes seeming to bore into her. Loitering in the street near the entrance to the telegraph office on a day that was cloudy and cold had made her feel conspicuous, and now the constable drew nearer, pounding out his beat.

  Stella wanted to run away but she resisted the impulse. Don’t panic, she told herself. What he sees is a well-dressed girl who appears to be standing in the street for no apparent reason. So create a reason.

  Moving before she fully knew what she was doing, Stella took the initiative and walked towards the constable. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said politely, aware that her accent and delivery would stamp her as respectable in his eyes. ‘Could you tell me, please, where the terminus is for the Sandymount tram?’

  Stella could tell that the policeman was appraising her and she smiled. ‘I’ve to meet my friend off the tram,’ she added.

  ‘It runs from the Pillar, Miss, just around the corner.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Stella headed off as though making for Nelson’s Pillar. Once out of sight of the constable, however, she paused and stepped into a busy cake shop. She stood as though choosing from the array of confectionery, but in fact she watched the progress of the patrolling policeman. As soon as he was gone from sight Stella left the shop and made her way back towards the telegraph office.

  It was lunchtime now, and she was hoping to intercept Johnny. She reasoned that after a morning of delivering telegrams he would return to base to have his lunch. Unless he had a picnic lunch wherever his deliveries took him. No, she decided, she had to remain positive.

  She had already got a discouraging response when she had gone to the reception desk at the telegraph office. She had decided to try the direct approach and had asked if she could speak with a staff member called Johnny Dunne. Instead the supervisor, a Mr Williams, had come to reception and spoken discreetly to her, out of earshot of the receptionist.

  ‘I’m told you were making enquiries,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I want to contact Johnny Dunne. Does he work from this office?’

  Stella sensed a wariness about the supervisor, even though he kept his tone neutral.

  ‘May I ask what this is about?’ said Williams.

  ‘He’s a friend I’ve lost contact with,’ answered Stella, deciding to keep her story as near as possible to the truth. ‘A girl I know saw him on a telegraph bicycle, so I thought I’d come here.’<
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  ‘I see.’

  ‘So, does Johnny work from this office?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Mr Williams. ‘But I can’t give out details regarding staff.’

  ‘I’m not asking for private details. I just want to know if he’s based here. I don’t want to disturb him during working hours, I only want a word during his lunch break, or even after work.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss, but I have to respect staff privacy. I’m afraid we can’t have members of the public coming in and seeking out staff.’

  ‘I understand that. All I’m asking is if this is his place of work?’

  ‘And all I can say, is that I have to respect staff privacy. So, if there’s nothing else…’

  Stella realised that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, and if this man was Johnny’s boss she didn’t want to get her friend into trouble.

  ‘Very well. Thank you anyway,’ she said. ‘Good day.’

  ‘Good day, Miss.’

  That had been about an hour previously, and Stella had walked away as though defeated. After a moment, though, she had doubled back, and since then she had casually strolled back and forth along the busy street. Now she took up her position again. But her trip to Dublin was starting to feel like a wild goose chase. Supposing Esther Moore was mistaken? Supposing she had simply seen a boy who looked like Johnny?

  And then, suddenly, Stella saw him. There had been no mistake. Coming around the corner, dressed in his post office uniform, Johnny cycled into view.

  Stella moved quickly, wanting to intercept him before he reached the telegraph office. She crossed the road, and stood on the pavement where he couldn’t miss her. Johnny looked up, then quickly braked. His shock was obvious, and Stella hoped that he wouldn’t be angry that she had tracked him down. But then again, he had lied to her. So if anyone was entitled to be angry, surely it was her. Well, it would be clear soon enough, she thought.

  ‘Stella!’ he said, dismounting from the bicycle, the surprise still visible on his face.

  ‘Hello, Johnny,’ she said. ‘I think…I think we need to talk.’

  * * *

  The midday sun suddenly emerged from the clouds, bathing Sackville Street with autumn sunshine. Johnny, however, was oblivious to his surroundings as he sat with Stella on one of the seats at the base of the O’Connell Monument. They had bought milk and buns from a street stall and were having a picnic lunch before Johnny returned to work.

  All around them the bustling life of the city went on, with horse-drawn carts clattering down the quays while trams, cars, and bicycles travelled up and down Sackville street. Johnny drank his milk, still a little in shock that Stella had come to Dublin and tracked him down.

  She turned to him now, her bun uneaten and a serious look on her face.

  ‘I need to ask you something, Johnny,’ she said.

  ‘I think I know what it is.’

  ‘Why…why did you lie to me and Alice in the postcards?’

  Johnny found it hard to hold her gaze, but he forced himself not to look away. ‘I had to,’ he said.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I can’t tell you.’

  ‘You can’t, or you won’t?’

  ‘I can’t. It’s…it’s complicated.

  ‘Is it? I thought it was straight-forward. I thought we were friends.’

  ‘We are. But…’ Johnny struggled to find the right words, and Stella drew closer.

  ‘Why is there a “but” if we’re the kind of friends I thought we were?’ she said softly.

  Johnny felt a stab of guilt. His emotions had been in a whirl since encountering Stella – shock at her sudden appearance, pleasure at seeing her again, frustration that his mission called for strict secrecy. And now he felt really bad on being reminded of how good a friend Stella had been. First she had saved his life when he was trapped in the burning building, and now she had come all the way to Dublin to see him. He couldn’t just palm her off, no matter what Mrs Hanlon had said about security.

  ‘There were two reasons I lied,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The first is that I’m involved in the struggle again, and they insisted nobody knows.’

  Johnny could see that Stella wasn’t happy with this news, but he carried on. ‘The second reason is that if things go wrong, I don’t want to drag you and Alice into it.’

  ‘How would we be dragged into it?’

  ‘If we exchanged letters, they’d see your address. I didn’t want to cause problems for either of you if I got arrested. And the Mill is Mrs Goodman’s livelihood. I don’t want the Tans burning it down ’cause the Goodmans are linked to a rebel.’

  Stella looked thoughtful, and Johnny reached out and touched her arm.

  ‘I’m really sorry for lying to you. But I had no choice.’

  ‘It’s OK, Johnny. I understand. But…have you not done enough for the cause? If you keep on taking risks, sooner or later…’ Stella shook her head. ‘I don’t even want to think of what might happen.’

  ‘It won’t be forever. But for the next couple of months I have a mission. It’s important.’

  ‘Why does it have to be you doing it?’

  ‘I want things to change, Stella, I’ve a duty to play my part.’

  ‘A duty? You’re only fourteen!’

  ‘My age has nothing to do with it. I’ve a duty, just like your Dad has a duty. You mightn’t like what he’s doing either, but he still has to do it.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘How is it different?’

  ‘One, he’s an adult. And two, he’s in the Air Force. He’s in uniform, Johnny, he’s not spying!’

  ‘You think what the RAF does is more noble than spying?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘The RAF buzzed civilians outside Mountjoy Jail to disperse them. They’re hunting our men in the hills, they’re searching for arms dumps. Your Dad does all that because it’s his duty. And I’m doing what I do because that’s my duty. You can’t ask me not to do it, Stella. If I walked away now I…I wouldn’t be me.’

  There was a long pause, then Stella nodded. ‘All right, Johnny. All right.’

  He looked at her, not knowing where that left him. ‘So, can we…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can we put all this aside, and be friends again when it’s over?’

  He waited anxiously for her answer, and when she spoke her voice sounded emotional. ‘We don’t have to wait till it’s over. We’re friends now and we’ll be friends then too. I know you can’t tell me what you’re up to, but please, just promise you won’t be reckless. That you won’t take more risks than you have to.’

  Johnny felt hugely relieved by her reply. ‘OK,’ he said with a crooked grin. ‘I don’t have a death wish. I promise I’ll be careful. All right?’

  For the first time Stella gave a weak smile. ‘All right.’

  ‘So enough about me,’ said Johnny, sipping from his milk and taking a bite from his bun. ‘Tell me your news, what’s happening in Balbriggan?’

  ‘They’re planning to rebuild the burnt-down buildings. There’s a big fund raiser at a sports day tomorrow.’

  ‘Brilliant. And how’s Mr Tardelli?’

  ‘He’s well. Actually, he was talking about you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘We’re learning this new song –“They Didn’t Believe Me.”’

  ‘Great tune.’

  ‘You know it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anyway, he was saying “I wish Johnny was here.” He said a clarinet part would be perfect in the song.’

  ‘Good ol’ Mr T!’ said Johnny.

  ‘Yes…’

  For a moment Stella was silent, and Johnny looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked softly

  ‘It’s … it’s just my own news isn’t so good.’

  ‘Oh? What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s Granddad. He’s slipped into a coma.’
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  ‘Oh, Stella. I’m really sorry. Is there…is there any chance he’ll come out of it?’

  Stella shook her head. ‘No, he…he hasn’t got long.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m…I’m just so sorry.’

  ‘Thanks, Johnny. It’s been coming for a while, but it was still horrible when Dad told me.’

  ‘Of course. I wish I’d been around to…well, I don’t know what I could have done, but just to be there.’

  ‘You’d have been there if you could.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘I know. I never doubted that for a second.’

  Johnny wanted to respond, but he felt a lump in his throat.

  ‘And Alice…she’s been great,’ said Stella.

  ‘Yes, she’s dead loyal. When things are tough it’s good to have someone to count on.’

  ‘You, me and Alice – I want us always to be pals,’ said Stella solemnly. ‘No matter what else happens.’

  ‘I want that too,’ said Johnny. But somehow words didn’t seem to be enough, and he held out his hand. ‘Let’s shake on it.’

  Stella reached out and shook his hand, and Johnny knew, instinctively, that this was a promise never to be broken.

  Part Two

  Revelations

  Chapter Ten

  ‘How did Mr Tardelli ever get a job in this school?’ asked Alice, as she and Stella left the music room and headed down the corridor for the mid-morning break.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The other teachers are so straight-laced. How did Mr T slip through the net?’

  ‘They’re not all straight-laced,’ said Stella.

  ‘Most of them are. It’s a miracle the nuns hired Mr Tardelli.’

  ‘Yes and no,’ answered Stella. ‘He’s colourful, but he’s a great musician, and a good teacher, and he’s a Catholic. You can see why the nuns would like him.’

  ‘Maybe Sister Mary took a shine to him!’

  ‘Alice! You can’t say that – she’s a nun!’

  ‘Even so. I mean, I know he’s ancient – he must be about forty if he’s a day – but he’s still kind of good looking.’

  ‘Well, yes…’