Through The Barricades: Winner of the SCBWI SPARK Award 2017

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Through The Barricades: Winner of the SCBWI SPARK Award 2017 Page 24

by Denise Deegan


  The men in the other beds got involved. Every so often, one of them would appear beside her with the offer of a sweet, a newspaper, a chair, hope. In the end, she took the chair and the newspaper so that she could sit on one and hide behind the other.

  At long last, Daniel was carried, bed and all, back into the room. Maggie stood aside, her eyes scanning his face. He was deeply asleep, turned on his side. There was no brace. She looked at the doctor questioningly.

  He grinned. ‘We got the little bugger! I’m sorry. I beg your pardon. The shrapnel. We got it all, every last bit.’

  She began to cry tears of relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you so very much.’ She grabbed his hand and pumped it. ‘I was so worried.’ She should stop talking.

  ‘He’ll be right as rain in no time.’

  She didn’t want to hear that either. ‘But his recuperation will take a while?’ she confirmed.

  ‘Oh yes. It will be weeks before he has to return.’

  She smiled; he had read her mind.

  She pulled the chair to the head of the bed. What she felt was joy. Absolute joy. Danny’s face, relaxed by the anaesthetic, had become a boy’s again, his eyelashes casting shadows on his pale, still cheeks. She did not care who was looking; she bent down and kissed him.

  It was hours before he opened his eyes.

  ‘They got the bugger, every last bit,’ she said, delighting in repeating the doctor’s words. ‘You’ll be right as rain in no time!’ She laughed and cried.

  He gripped her hand and fell back asleep.

  Later, he awoke in pain and was given morphine.

  ‘What time is it?’ he asked her.

  ‘Five in the afternoon.’

  ‘You’ve been here all day. Have you eaten?’

  ‘I have.’ Hard-boiled sweets.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Relieved.’

  ‘There was nothing to worry about.’

  She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Doctors talk, Daniel. Anyway, the question is, how are you? You’re the one who’s had the surgery.’

  He gave in with a smile. ‘Relieved, too, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m the most relieved, though.’

  ‘Here we go again.’

  But Maggie’s face darkened.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Maggie?’

  She looked at him. ‘You’ll have to go back.’

  His eyes held hers. ‘Not for a long time.’ He lifted an arm. ‘See, no muscle.’

  ‘Keep it that way.’ She bent down and kissed him.

  He smiled. ‘When you put it like that.’

  Maggie sailed home on a sigh of relief. Not only would Daniel make a full recovery but also for the next few weeks he would be safe – and here – with her – while he recuperated. She would put everything on hold. Ireland. Her family. School. How bright the day seemed suddenly, how blue the sky. Spring had arrived in Dublin and she hadn’t even noticed.

  The song she was humming as she walked through the front door was not a rebel song. It was Daniel’s favourite. She remembered calling him a romantic when he’d told her. But she had loved that he was. A year and a half had passed since their picnic in Kingstown. It was hard to believe. And yet it did feel that she had been aching for him for that long. Longer.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you smile, Maggie,’ her mother said when they sat down to dinner.

  ‘Don’t I smile?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘No,’ Lily said, helpfully. ‘Never.’

  So she smiled. It was easy suddenly.

  God but she was hungry. And there was so much to talk about. All of it Danny-related.

  Smiling, it seemed, was infectious, as was conversation. Maggie had not enjoyed a meal so much in a very long time.

  After dinner, when they were just settling in the drawing room, Michael called unexpectedly.

  ‘Fetch your coat,’ he said. ‘We’re going out.’

  Her pulse raced. ‘What is it?’ she asked for something surely had happened.

  ‘Just come, Maggie.’

  ‘Is it Danny?’

  ‘No. It’s not Danny.’

  ‘Thank God,’ she said and hurried after him.

  They were at the end of her street before he spoke and he did so in an urgent whisper. ‘You must leave the Citizen Army at once. They have files on you in Dublin Castle. They have files on everyone: James Connolly, the Countess Markievicz...’

  ‘But I’m nobody compared to them.’

  ‘You know a Patrick Shanahan, who is somebody.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He is high up in the IRB.’

  ‘The IRB?’ She had never heard of it.

  ‘It’s a secret organisation masterminding rebel activity.’

  Maggie’s mind raced. Suddenly, everything made sense, the way Patrick spoke, as if connected, the gunrunning job out to Kimmage, the best guns, and his certainty that James Connolly would return safely. And he spoke of trust!

  ‘Whether or not you’ve heard of it, you’ve been spending a lot of time in the company of Shanahan and the spotlight of suspicion has fallen upon you. They have G-men watching every movement at Liberty Hall.’

  ‘We know. They are as conspicuous as they are stupid.’

  ‘Stupid people can make arrests. What then?’

  She looked at him with genuine concern. ‘Is there talk of arrests?’

  ‘I haven’t heard anything but, then, I’m not meant to. Think about it, though, if they have the names why wait for trouble?’

  Maggie tried to stay calm. They would have to rise urgently. She’d have to tell Patrick, Mister Secret Organisation himself.

  ‘I’ve mislaid your file, Maggie, removed all evidence of you from Dublin Castle. You are nobody again,’ Michael said shyly.

  ‘But what about you? What if they discover the file missing?’

  He raised his eyebrow. ‘Out of hundreds of files, one goes missing? I’m the son of a Dublin Metropolitan Policeman. I fought for the British Army. The only reason I’d mislay a file would be out of stupidity.’ He smiled.

  She touched his arm in appreciation. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re not out of the woods, Maggie. I’ve protected you as much as I can but they could storm Liberty Hall at any moment. You must give it up.’

  ‘I cannot.’

  ‘You must! It’s coming to a head! I can feel it.’

  ‘And when it does,’ she said calmly, ‘I’ll remember, with gratitude, your warning. Now, I have a favour to ask. Don’t tell Danny. Please, Michael. He’d only worry and there’s nothing he can do.’

  ‘Of course I won’t bloody tell him. He’d go out of his mind. I’m going out of mine and I’m just your friend.’

  She embraced him then. ‘I’m sorry, Michael. I wish I could do as you ask.’

  Maggie knew where to find Patrick. He worked by day as a hotel porter (keeping his eyes and ears open) and lived by night at Liberty Hall where he alternately slept and took turns on guard duty. The building was under twenty-four-hour guard now, given the stockpile of weapons it contained.

  When she tracked him down, he was reshaping bullets.

  She sat beside him.

  ‘So I can trust you?’ she whispered, raising a cynical eyebrow.

  He looked at her in surprise. ‘You know you can.’

  ‘I know nothing of the sort, Patrick Shanahan.’

  He glanced about the room. ‘Let us take a walk outside.’

  ‘As long as I get the truth.’

  ‘I have never once lied to you, Maggie.’

  ‘There are different ways of lying.’

  He looked at her then. ‘As only you know.’

  She rolled her eyes.

  They passed rebel guards on the stairs and again at one of the many hidden entrances. Just as they were about to go out onto the quay, he turned to her.

  ‘It’s swarming with G-men out there. Let’s act as a couple so we’ll be l
eft alone.’

  She nodded. He linked her arm and guided her out. Emerging from the shadows, she noticed three separate men turn to look at them. One busied himself lighting a cigarette. Another continued an apparent promenade. The third bent to tie his shoelace.

  ‘You’d think they’d make a bigger effort to blend in,’ Patrick muttered. ‘At least be walking a dog or a woman or something. Laugh, now, Maggie, like I’m the funniest man alive.’

  She tipped her head back and laughed and then leaned in to him as they walked past the smoking G-man.

  ‘You’re good at this,’ Patrick whispered in her ear as though proclaiming undying love.

  Soon they were crossing O’Connell Bridge.

  Maggie glanced casually down the quay to make sure that they weren’t being followed. Then she turned to him.

  ‘So, you’re in the IRB?’

  He looked alarmed. ‘Where did you hear of the IRB?’

  ‘You’re not the only one who knows people, Patrick.’ She stopped walking. ‘All that talk of trust….’ She folded her arms.

  ‘Maggie, there are times when the less you know, the safer you are. I was protecting you.’

  ‘Well, you failed. I’m guilty by association, it seems.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They have files on me – on all of us – in Dublin Castle.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘It’s as we suspected.’

  She longed to know who the ‘we’ consisted of. Were there others she knew who were members of this secret organisation? It was as if the world had changed without her.

  ‘Tell me this, Patrick Shanahan. If you’re with the IRB, why are you also with the Citizen Army?’

  ‘The IRB is not a fighting organisation and I, as you know, will not be sitting back when the time comes. But since you ask and since you believe that I do not trust you, let me tell you why the Citizen Army. I joined to keep an eye on Connolly.’

  ‘You’re a spy?’

  He laughed. ‘You make me sound more exciting than I am. We’re all in this together, Maggie, all the rebel forces. Connolly, though, was a loose cannon, ready to go off half-cocked and rise without us. We needed to know what he was up to.’

  ‘And there I was thinking that you’d joined because of me.’

  ‘You gave me the idea but Ireland comes first for me. Before any organisation. Before any individual. Before even myself.’

  That she understood.

  They walked in silence for a while. Then she turned to him. ‘Where was James Connolly when he went missing?’

  ‘Ah!’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘If I tell you, you must swear to never tell another soul.’

  ‘You know I won’t.’

  He looked at her for a long time and then glanced around to make sure they were not being watched. ‘He was having a chat with the Military Council of the IRB. He was assuring them that he would not rise alone in return for helping them set a date for the rising.’

  Her heart throbbed. Everything seemed to stop. ‘Is there a date?’

  ‘There’s a tentative date, yes.’

  Dear God. ‘When?’

  ‘I cannot say.’

  ‘Cannot or will not?’

  ‘Cannot. We’re awaiting a shipment of guns from Germany.’

  ‘It had better come soon, Patrick. That’s what I came to tell you; a friend of mine in Dublin Castle fears that arrests are imminent.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘How imminent?’

  ‘They could happen at any time. Liberty Hall could be stormed. And it will all be over….’

  ‘Walk, Maggie, before we arouse suspicion.’

  ‘We need to rise urgently,’ she said as she did so. ‘When are these guns coming?’

  He looked at her. ‘What I’m about to tell you must stay with you.’

  She nodded, unable to breathe.

  ‘We’re hoping to go out at Easter.’

  ‘Jesus!’ she whispered. After all this time, this preparation, this dreaming, they would be rising up in weeks.

  He stopped walking and raised a finger in warning. ‘Not a word of this to Danny.’

  She stared at him. It was hard enough being here, like this, on the day that Danny had been operated on. Before she knew it, she’d slapped Patrick, hard, across the face.

  He laughed. ‘Good. That was the reassurance I needed.’

  ‘Feck off.’

  ‘Who is your friend in Dublin Castle?’

  ‘You’re not the only one with secrets, Patrick.’ Michael had done enough. She would have no more asked of him.

  He nodded. ‘I’ll bring your news to the IRB.’

  ‘Should I tell Danny you said hello?’ It was a dare.

  He looked at her and smiled. ‘Do. And wish him a speedy recovery.’

  A speedy recovery was the last thing she wished for. She wished Danny confined to hospital until they had risen for Ireland, until they had freed their country of British rule and until Irish soldiers were no longer obliged to fight for another country.

  forty-three

  Daniel and Maggie

  April 1916

  Daniel linked Maggie’s arm as they strolled through the grounds of the hospital, as he had been encouraged to do by the doctor. Weeks had passed since his operation and every day he grew stronger. It was still incredible to be able to move around without fear of snipers, under a sun that was gentle and forgiving, to the sound of birdsong not artillery. Daniel had not known just how much he loved Ireland.

  ‘I’m amazed that Mam is letting me miss so much school,’ Maggie thought aloud.

  He had to say it. ‘She knows I’ll be off soon.’ He looked at her. ‘I will, Maggie.’

  Her face clouded over. ‘Can you not slow down your recovery? Did you learn nothing from Hansel and Gretel? Starve yourself, Daniel Healy.’

  He pulled her closer. ‘When will you marry me?’

  ‘The minute I turn eighteen. I’ve asked Mam.’

  He smiled, encouraged. ‘Was I not meant to do that?’

  ‘Well, you hadn’t and someone had to.’

  He laughed heartily. How he loved her. ‘Will you meet my family?’

  ‘Even your scary father?’ she teased.

  ‘He has changed, Maggie. And he wants to meet you. They all do.’

  ‘God.’ Suddenly she was scared. She wanted them to like her. And she never cared who liked her. ‘Then you will have to meet my family.’

  ‘Tom will probably kill me.’

  ‘Probably,’ she smiled and leaned into him. ‘I love you.’

  And he wished with all his heart that she did not love Ireland more.

  ‘Don’t do it, Maggie! Don’t rise! I’ve never asked you before. Now, I’m begging you.’ He fumbled in his pocket. He pulled out an envelope that he brought with him everywhere. Then he thrust it into her hand before he could change his mind. ‘Read it,’ he said hoarsely. It was the letter with his last wishes, the one where he’d asked her to be somewhere else if it came to a fight.

  She read in silence then looked up at him as though her heart had shattered.

  ‘Grant me my last wish, Maggie.’

  She closed her eyes. ‘You’re not dying,’ she choked. Tears filled her eyes.

  ‘I might, though.’

  She’d rather die herself. Chances were she would anyway, given how outnumbered they’d be. She had come to terms with that a long time ago. It was Danny she feared for. They were getting closer to rising and his health was improving too fast. She didn’t want him marching up a street where James Connolly and his men would be hiding. She didn’t want him walking into an ambush. She didn’t want him facing Patrick. Or Madame. Or Con Colbert. Every last one of them would shoot him, despite their shared past. She would rather him back at war than here in Dublin! She looked up at him as tears flooded her face. She could barely breathe.

  ‘I just wish countries would leave each other alone,’ she wailed.

  He kissed away her t
ears. He thought of her father and what he’d asked of her, the pressure of that. ‘I’m sorry, Maggie. But I had to try. Just once. For The Healys.’

  ‘The Healys.’ She pressed herself into him. ‘I’m sorry too. You don’t know how sorry.’

  ‘I do.’ He kissed the top of her head.

  And her sigh was like all the combined sighs of the world.

  Daniel did not think it possible to love Maggie any more than he already did and yet, watching her nervousness with his family, he felt his heart swell even further. He had never seen her so ill at ease, speaking only when spoken to and eating so quickly she finished her meal well before anyone else. Only when his father began to speak of his properties and improvements that he planned, did she forget her nerves.

  ‘I wish other landlords took such care,’ Maggie said.

  ‘If I have anything to do with it, they will,’ he said. ‘At the club, I am busy persuading others that it is in their interests to invest in their properties.’

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Would you like to see the improvements I have begun with, Maggie?’ he asked with sudden enthusiasm. ‘I was planning on showing Daniel-’

  ‘I would!’

  He stood at once. As did Maggie.

  ‘James! We are dining,’ his wife exclaimed.

  He looked down at the table. ‘It seems as though we are finished, Elizabeth,’ he said cheerfully.

  Daniel got to his feet, amazed that the very thing he imagined would separate Maggie and his father seemed to be uniting them. For now, at least.

  In the motorcar, Mister Healy chatted like a man starved of company. ‘I have hired an overseer, a man unable to find work since the Lockout. He has sourced furniture, carpets, drapes, whatever I needed, at ridiculous prices. I have spent my life being diddled until now, it seems.’ He smiled as though happy that he was no longer that man.

  Arriving at the street, four properties, side by side, immediately stood out. They had been plastered and painted. New windows and doors had been installed.

  Daniel’s father was out of the motor in a flash, marching towards the first of the houses. They followed, running up the steps in time to witness him rap on the door of the first room on the ground floor.

 

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