‘Yes. Hello, Miss Hopkins,’ he answered, recognising the voice of the receptionist.
‘How are you, Johnny?’
‘I’m fine thanks,’ he answered, trying not to sound impatient. ‘Is Alice there, I’ve an important message for her?’
‘I’m sorry, Johnny, they all went to the church for Benediction.’
Johnny felt a surge of frustration, knowing that the Goodman’s didn’t normally go to Benediction on Sunday nights.
‘I think there were going to be special prayers for all the people who were killed today,’ said Miss Hopkins.
‘Right.’
‘They shouldn’t be too much longer though. Can I pass on the message when they get in?’
Johnny wracked his brains, but couldn’t think of any way to word his message that wouldn’t give away information that should be kept secret.
‘No it’s…it’s OK, Miss Hopkins.’
‘You could try ringing her later. Or can I get her to contact you.’
‘No. Thank you, but I have to leave in a couple of minutes.’
‘Too bad. Though if you want – oh, wait now. She’s coming in, Johnny. Hang on a minute and I’ll put her on the line.’
Johnny felt his spirits soar. ‘Thanks, Miss H. And do me a favour, will you, and keep it discreet. I don’t want anyone else to know I’ve rung her.’
‘All right, Johnny. Hold on.’
Johnny waited, then a moment later he heard the sound of Alice’s voice.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Hello, Alice, it’s Johnny. Can you talk, or is your mam beside you?’
‘I can talk. Mam is doing supper for Stella and Mrs Radcliffe. It’s good to hear from you, Johnny.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And I know what you did this morning. That was really brave. Are you…are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. But I have to get out of the country. I can’t go into all the details because I’ve to leave in a couple of minutes.’
‘All right.’
‘Alice, I need you to do me a big favour.’
‘Anything.’
‘Can you ring my mother for me? It’s Norah Dunne at Athlone 3423.’
‘Norah Dunne, Athlone 3423. Got that,’ said Alice.
‘She’s not there now, but she should be back.’
‘OK, I’ll ring in a while.’
‘Thanks, Alice, it’s vital I get a message to her.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep ringing till I get her. All night if need be.’
‘You’re a star, Alice.’
‘So what do I tell her.’
‘That I’m on for Scotland. But everything has to be brought forward because of what happened today. And can she meet me tomorrow?’
‘That’s moving fast.’
‘It has to be this way.’
‘All right. Where’s she to meet you?’
‘Balbriggan. No one there knows her. And we can get the train to Belfast and then the ferry to Scotland.’
‘Is it not risky for you to come here where people will recognise you?’
‘It’s the last place they’d expect me to go. And I know it like the back of my hand so I’ll be able to lie low.’
‘Let me know when you get here,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll get your mother a room in the Mill, and myself and Stella will help any way we can.’
‘OK. And thanks, Alice, I’m really grateful.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Just get here safely.’
‘I’ll try. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I hope.’
‘Till tomorrow then.’
Johnny hung up the phone. Then he picked up his suitcase and made for the door.
* * *
‘I want you to look me in the eye, Stella,’ said her mother.
They had entered Stella’s bedroom in the Mill, having finished supper with the Goodmans, and Stella had anticipated that this moment might arise. She turned reluctantly and looked at her mother.
‘Johnny Dunne…he’s directly involved with the rebels, isn’t he?’
Stella hesitated then nodded. ‘Yes. But, Mom, he’s involved in the same way that Dad is involved. He sees it as his duty.’
‘For goodness sake! It’s not the same thing, Stella. The authorities will crack down hard. He could end up in huge trouble.’
‘I hope not. And I won’t tell on him. He swore me to secrecy, Mom.’
‘He swore you to secrecy? Against your own family?’
‘It wasn’t against my family. I’ve always fought Dad’s corner. Even when the Tans and Auxies were turning people against the British, I stood up for Dad. And you weren’t here, Mom. No blame – I know you had to nurse Granddad. But I needed a friend, and Johnny was a great friend. He was the first person here who got me to talk about what happened George. He helped make me see I shouldn’t keep blaming myself. That was a huge thing for me.’ Stella sensed that she was swaying her mother and she decided to go for broke. ‘And he probably saved Dad’s life this morning. You can’t deny that.’
‘I’m not…’
‘Then please, Mom, don’t take against him. Both sides did awful things today. But making one fourteen-year-old pay for it isn’t right. If they come asking questions, don’t inform on him.’ Stella reached out and took her mother’s hand. ‘Please, Mom, I’m begging you.’
* * *
Johnny gripped his mug of cocoa in both hands, sipping the warm drink to counteract the falling temperature. Frost-covered trees glinted in the moonlight as he glided over the icy waters of the Royal Canal. He was sitting in the cabin of a long barge, its hold filled with a cargo of brandy for delivery to Mullingar.
Johnny thought it was smart of Mrs Hanlon to call in a favour with a rebel bargeman to smuggle him out of Dublin. After a day of murder and mayhem there would be cordons and checkpoints on the city’s roads. The barge, however, had attracted little attention as it rose through a series of locks on its way towards the city’s outskirts. At every lock Johnny had held his suitcase in hand, ready to flee the vessel should it be inspected. But no one had been suspicious of a working barge, and now he tried to relax as the vessel cruised towards the outlying village of Blanchardstown.
The plan was that Johnny would sleep on board when it stopped for the night in the town of Maynooth. Then first thing in the morning he would resume this journey to Balbriggan to rendezvous with his mother. Assuming that Alice could contact her. Assuming, too, that she was willing to drop everything and take him with her to Scotland. Still, all of that was out of his hands for now; his priority was to get away from Dublin.
Just before he had left, Mrs Hanlon had heard disturbing news. Two IRA volunteers, Peadar Clancy and Dick McKee, and their friend Conor Clune, who had been arrested the previous night, had been killed in custody. The official story was that they were shot while trying to escape, but Mrs Hanlon was convinced that it was another reprisal for this morning’s killings of British intelligence officers.
With the backlash becoming ever more brutal, Johnny feared for Mrs Hanlon herself, How long could it be before somebody being interrogated mentioned her name? And if Mrs Hanlon was interrogated might she break down and give Johnny’s name? He prayed that wouldn’t happen, then his musings were cut short as he heard a change in the engine’s sound.
The steady chug-chugging dropped in volume as the barge began to slow down. Johnny immediately moved to the door of the darkened cabin and quietly opened it. Ahead in the moonlight he could see the outline of a large mill, adjacent to the next lock. Johnny knew that the previous lock had been Lock Eleven, so this would be the Twelfth Lock, at the outskirts of Blanchardstown.
Johnny looked behind him and saw the tillerman steering the slowing craft towards the quay.
One of the bargemen jumped ashore, a rope in one hand and a key for the lock in the other. Just as the moon went behind a cloud, Johnny glimpsed two tall figures approaching the bargemen. There was a gas lamp at the side of the quay, but outside of its limited
yellow halo of light, Johnny couldn’t see the two men.
‘Evening, sir,’ said one of them, in a lilting Cork accent.
‘Evening, officer,’ answered the bargeman.
Johnny tried to keep his nerves under control. There had been no police presence at any of other locks, and it would be awful to come close to escaping only to be caught now.
‘Where are you coming from?’ asked the policeman.
‘Spencer Dock. Bringing a cargo of brandy to Mullingar.’
‘Brandy, is it?’ said the second officer, who also had a country accent. ‘I hope you haven’t been sampling the cargo?’
Johnny felt a tiny sliver of relief. The men didn’t seem hostile, and their accents suggested Royal Irish Constabulary, rather than Tans or Auxies.
‘Rather have a few pints in Maynooth than a keg full of brandy!’ said the bargeman.
Johnny was impressed by his cool demeanour, and he hoped the policemen would be swayed by his relaxed tone.
‘Fair enough,’ said the policeman easily.
Johnny sensed that things were going to be all right, and he unclenched his hand, which had been gripping his suitcase.
‘Look, we won’t delay you,’ said the first policeman.
‘Thanks, officer.’
‘But with all that’s happened today, we need to do a quick check on your crew and cargo.’
Johnny’s mouth went dry. It had been agreed that if he were caught the bargemen would deny all knowledge of him and claim he was a stowaway. But although that might well get them off the hook, it would spell disaster for Johnny.
Without hesitating, he grasped his suit case, ducked low and made for the side of the vessel. With the moon behind the cloud the night was dark, and if he was quiet he might get away before the RIC men spotted him.
As if reading his intentions, and seeking to buy him time, the bargeman spoke up.
‘Do we really have to do that, officer? Everything is in order, and it’s a freezing night. We just want to be on our way.’
‘The sooner we get this done the sooner we can all get warm again,’ answered the policeman.
Johnny could barely make out the frosty quayside in the dark, but every second counted, and with his suitcase in hand he jumped from the side of the barge.
He landed awkwardly, dropping the suitcase. Immediately he rose to his feet again, grabbing the handle of the case, but the noise had been heard and the first policeman called out.
‘Who’s that? Show yourself!’
Johnny knew that the RIC were armed, and if he didn’t surrender he might end up getting shot. But it was dark, and the policeman had heard him rather than seen him. If he ran for it now he might get away. He hesitated for half a second, terrified of getting a bullet in the back, but terrified too of being captured and interrogated.
He saw a shadow in the gaslight, as the policeman moved forward, then suddenly his mind was made up and he sprinted in the opposite direction.
‘Stop! Stop in the name of the law!’ cried the policeman.
But Johnny was committed now, and he ran flat out, praying he wouldn’t lose his balance on the frosty ground. He sprinted back along the towpath. Immediately he heard the sound of a police whistle being blown and he felt a sudden sense of exhilaration. A policeman blowing a whistle was summoning help – which was much better than a policeman shooting at him. Buoyed by the thought, he upped his speed, leaving the barge behind and vanishing into the night.
* * *
Alice tip-toed out of her bedroom, taking care not to wake her mother in the adjoining room. She avoided the slightly creaky floor board in the living room floor, then gently opened the door. She paused a moment, listening to ensure that there was no sound coming from Mam’s room. Her mother tended to go to bed early and sleep soundly, and to Alice’s relief all was quiet. She stepped out, softly closing the door. She tightened her dressing gown and made for the hotel office. There was a telephone in their private quarters, but Alice couldn’t let Mam know that she was making calls on Johnny’s behalf.
She reached the end of the corridor and was glad to see that the reception desk was unmanned. Moving behind the desk, she entered the office, closed the door and seated herself beside the telephone. So far she had failed to contact Johnny’s mother, with the chemist in Athlone answering her call and explaining that Norah Dunne had gone out. He wasn’t sure what time she would be back, and he had offered to ask Miss Dunne to return the call. Alice had declined and said she would call back in an hour.
That call had been unsuccessful too, and Alice was anxious now as she prepared to ring again. How many times could she call before the chemist lost patience with her? And what if Johnny’s mother didn’t come home tonight, but stayed with friends? Alice stopped and took a deep breath, knowing that she had to calm herself. She placed the call with the operator, then found that she was biting her lip as the she heard the telephone ringing at the other end. She breathed deeply again, then her hopes rose when the call was answered by a woman.
‘Hello, would that be Norah Dunne, please?’
‘Yes, this is Norah Dunne. Are you the girl who was looking for me?’
‘Yes. My name is Alice Goodman. I’m a friend of Johnny’s.’
‘I know who you are, Alice. Is Johnny all right?’
Alice could hear the anxiety in the woman’s voice. She realised how worrying it must have been for Johnny’s mother to have missed a series of calls on a day when so many people had been killed and injured.
‘It’s OK, Johnny hasn’t been hurt.’
‘Thank God for that!’
‘But he needs to get out of Ireland. He said you were leaving for Scotland, and could he come with you?’
‘Yes, of course. I’d planned to go next weekend.’
‘Can you bring that forward? Johnny needs to leave right away.’
‘Is he…is he in danger?’
‘He didn’t go into details. But he wouldn’t be doing this unless he had to. I know it’s huge thing to ask, but…could you drop everything and go tomorrow?’
Alice had worried that this might not be possible, but Norah Dunne’s answer gladdened her heart.
‘I’ll go tonight if need be,’ she said simply.
‘That’s…that’s just brilliant, Miss Dunne. But the plan is for you both to meet up tomorrow in Balbriggan.’
‘OK, I’ll pack tonight. I’ll explain that for family reasons my plans have changed, and get the first train in the morning.’
‘Perfect.’
‘What time do we meet and where?’
‘I don’t know how Johnny plans to get out of Dublin, or how long it might take him to get here. The best thing is if you come to the Mill Hotel and check in. I’ll make a booking for you now. I’ll do it in the name of Miss Dunne. No one here will connect that with Johnny.’
‘Thank you, Alice. I’m…I’m very grateful.’
‘You’re fine. It’s great that you can do this.’
‘He’s my son. I’d do anything for him.’
Alice felt a sudden affection for this woman that she had never met. ‘Grand. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Dunne. Safe journey.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Alice. God bless.’
Alice hung up, then sat back in the chair, suddenly spent. She felt enormously relieved to have carried out Johnny’s wish and to have contacted his mother. But that would count for nothing if he was caught before he could reach Balbriggan. She sat unmoving for a moment, praying that her friend would be all right. Then she told herself that there was no more she could do tonight, and she rose resignedly and started back towards her room.
* * *
Johnny watched the flames dancing in the firelight and he snuggled deeper into the folds of his overcoat, glad to be in out of the frosty night air. He had run blindly at first to evade the policemen at the Twelfth Lock, then when he was confident that he had left them behind he had made his way into a heavily wooded estate. The moon had come out again,
allowing him to a follow a trail, and the gaunt, leafless trees had looked ghostly in the moonlight, their branches glistening with frost. Johnny, however, had been oblivious to the wintry beauty of the scene, and conscious that he needed to find shelter. He didn’t know how cold it had to get for someone to die of exposure, but he reckoned that sleeping rough on a freezing night was a bad idea.
He had hoped to find a barn or perhaps a deserted cottage, but instead had eventually come across a wooden cabin deep in the woods. Its door had been unlocked but stiff, and Johnny had had to use his shoulder to force an entry. Inside it was draughty and barely furnished, with just a couple of rickety chairs. But there were matches by the fireside, kindling in the grate, and neatly stacked chopped logs, and Johnny gave silent thanks to the estate workers who obviously used it as an occasional base.
Johnny had thought twice about lighting the fire, not wanting to draw attention. But he needed to get warm, and he had reasoned that this late at night and in such an isolated spot nobody was likely to come across the cabin.
Now he was stretched out before the fire, sitting in one chair with his feet resting on the other and with his overcoat wrapped tightly around him. He found his thoughts drifting as the warmth of the fire and sheer exhaustion made him sleepy. It had been an incredibly eventful day, what with the drama of warning Commander Radcliffe, the killings of the British agents, the reprisals at Croke Park, and his own escape from the police. To think about it too much was overwhelming, and there was no guarantee that Alice had reached his mother or that she could suddenly leave Athlone to flee with him to Scotland. And what would happen if Mrs Hanlon was arrested? Or if he himself got picked up tomorrow by the police, or even worse, by the Tans?
It was easy to imagine everything spiralling out of control, but with an effort he forced himself to simply take one thing at a time. Then tiredness overtook him, and warmed by the gently crackling fire, he succumbed to a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Johnny woke with a start. Hazy early morning sunlight had brightened the interior of the cabin, however it wasn’t the light that had woken him but rather the sound of a man’s voice.
Spies Page 14