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 31

by Denise Deegan


  The gentlemen looked at her, then at the mask on Daniel’s face. They seemed at a loss for words. Daniel lifted his hat, his calm belying his concern for Maggie, who was now repeating the question.

  The men looked at her uncomfortably. ‘I’m sorry but this is no talk for the ears of a lady.’

  ‘Please. I must insist.’

  They hesitated.

  ‘Please,’ she said gently.

  One of the men gave in. ‘Three of the rebel leaders. Pádraic Pearse, Tomás MacDonagh and Thomas Clarke have been sentenced to death for their part in the rising.’

  Maggie’s face blanched.

  ‘Let us return to the room a moment,’ Daniel said, linking her arm once more. ‘We have time.’

  She smiled at him. ‘I am quite well, Daniel.’

  ‘Perhaps a chair,’ one of the men suggested.

  ‘Not at all,’ Maggie said brightly. ‘Daniel, we have a boat to catch.’

  And as she propelled him towards the stairs, Daniel sensed with growing alarm that this shock could unravel them. If they were to be stopped and questioned while boarding the ship – as they more than likely would be – how would Maggie bear up? She had already slipped up by calling him Daniel.

  The boy who had offered to carry their luggage made a valiant effort not to gawk at the mask. He failed. And when Daniel smiled reassurance, he dropped the trunks and made off as though he’d been bitten. Daniel feared that the mask, too, had been a mistake, drawing attention to them.

  An older boy with knowing eyes approached. Without a word, he lifted the trunks and began to stride with them towards the Carlisle Pier. His confidence boosted Daniel’s. He followed, limping as Michael did, eyes scanning for trouble. Ahead of them, the RMS Leinster loomed into view. They kept their eyes on it, looking neither right nor left, engaging with no one, simply doing all that they had planned.

  Soon the ship was no more than a hundred feet away and, to Daniel’s great relief, there were no uniformed men checking papers.

  They were almost there! Almost away!

  ‘Halt!’ A G-man stepped in front of the chap walking ahead of them, blocking his path.

  On his arm, Daniel felt Maggie tense. Then he himself almost collapsed. Arriving beside the G-man was a uniformed officer of the Dublin Metropolitan Police, not any officer but Michael’s father. Daniel tried to steer Maggie around the three men but Michael’s father glanced his way. The glance became a stare.

  ‘Michael? Daniel?’ he asked in confusion.

  ‘Daniel,’ he replied quietly so as not to alert the G-man.

  ‘Papers,’ Michael’s father demanded coldly, eyeing him with suspicion.

  As he handed over the papers, Daniel looked into the man’s eyes imploring his help or, at least, his understanding that he was in trouble. For a moment, they stood looking at each other, the lawbreaker and the lawman. Then Michael’s father looked down at the papers.

  Suddenly, the chap under original suspicion bolted off like a fox. The G-man pulled a gun but such was the crowd he did not shoot. He took off in pursuit. Michael’s father looked at Daniel for the longest moment, then shoved the papers back at him and raced after the G-man.

  Daniel urged Maggie forward. Boarding in haste, they did not look back. At length, they reached their cabin. The boy who had carried their luggage looked at Daniel for a tip. His face brightened when he saw the size of it.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said, as though he knew.

  ‘And to you,’ Daniel replied.

  Inside the cabin, Daniel locked the door and leaned against it. He closed his eyes. ‘Jesus.’

  ‘I thought we were done for,’ Maggie said, sinking onto one of the tiny beds. ‘Why do you think he let us away?’

  Daniel breathed deeply as his body recovered. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps he, too, has had enough of fighting. Or maybe it’s that he’s known me all my life. Or perhaps he had two seconds to decide and went after the rebel before the deserter. Thankfully, we’ll never know.’

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about poor Pádraic Pearse, the gentlest of men. You should have seen him in the GPO, Danny, encouraging the men, thanking everyone for doing their duty. I don’t think he even picked up a gun.’ Her eyes watered.

  Daniel went to her but already she was up, pacing the tiny cabin.

  ‘What of the other leaders – James Connolly, Michael Mallin, Madame? Are they all done for? What of poor, failing Joseph Plunkett? Will they execute him, too, with his consumption? Will he never get to marry now?’ She looked at him, eyes wide. ‘What of Patrick, Tom, Con Colbert? They didn’t sign the Proclamation but they were important. Dear God, Danny.’

  There was nothing he could say.

  And still she paced. ‘If they’d died fighting and we had won, it would be different now. But this?’

  A sudden pounding shook the cabin door.

  They exchanged a panicked glance. Daniel had always known that he faced death. He had never imagined it for Maggie.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said and went to the door.

  The air left his lungs when he saw whom it was. Michael’s father seemed taller than ever. Daniel had forgotten that the policeman had time on his side, time to get the rebel and come back for the deserter. He would give himself up quickly before suspicion fell on Maggie. He nodded and extended his arms, wrists together. But the policeman only took a hold of one hand. He shook it firmly. Daniel stared in surprise. The giant of a man from the country had tears in his eyes.

  ‘I never got a chance to thank you for saving my son’s life, for bringing him home to us.’

  Emotion swamped Daniel as he remembered all that had happened, how close to death he and Michael had come, so many times. And how, in truth, they had saved each other.

  The policeman looked past Daniel to Maggie.

  Daniel closed his eyes and prayed.

  ‘And I never thanked you, either, Maggie Gilligan, for being a friend to Michael when he most needed one. He was very low. We worried….’ His voice trailed off.

  Maggie hurried over and took his hands warmly in hers. ‘He has found love now and he is happy.’

  His smile was like a sunrise. ‘Go with God, the pair of you. And may He be good to you.’

  Maggie threw her arms around him.

  He laughed in surprise. ‘I had better go or I’ll end up in England.’

  ‘Thank you, Mister Hegarty,’ Daniel said. And when Maggie finally let the man go, he closed the door.

  This time, they both leaned against it.

  Epilogue

  Two months later

  Maggie looked at the envelope in her hand and wondered. When she had seen the stationery and handwriting she had assumed that the letter was for Daniel. Then she noticed that it had been addressed to her. What could Daniel’s father want? With a sense of dread, she opened the envelope.

  Dear Maggie

  I would like to offer a sincere apology for the way I addressed you, the last time we met. At the time, I saw only the destruction and danger that the insurrection had plunged Daniel and others into. Since then, I have been appalled, no, outraged by the fate of your leaders. Their execution following surrender was the very worst violation of human rights. It has opened my eyes as to why you rose against a regime as oppressive as this. I was so cosy in Ireland’s present that I let myself forget her past. The rising has forced me – and others – to remember who we are at the core: Irish.

  The tide of opinion has turned. Your leaders have become martyrs. Ireland is changing. I am confident that, one day, you and Daniel shall return freely to a new republic. I understand, now, that my son is a lucky man to have you. You stood by your beliefs in the face of certain death.

  I hope that you receive this letter before your wedding day for I have a proposition. If you are in agreement, it would be my honour, as a wedding gift, to fund you to attend university. It strikes me that you are a person who might wish to be afforded this opportunity in the new land you find yourself in. I hope I am no
t being presumptuous.

  I have met with your wonderful mother and sweetest sister. Your brother, David, is a very impressive young man. We are going to have a little celebration for you, here in Ireland, on your big day.

  Please forgive an argumentative and explosive old man.

  With the greatest respect, your future father-in-law,

  James Healy

  Maggie, hand on heart, glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps. When she saw Daniel she began to wave frantically.

  ‘Get out! Get out! You’re not meant to see me on our wedding day!’

  He smiled. ‘Then how can I marry you?’

  She laughed. ‘Go! No! Wait! Come back! Read this letter. It’s from your father.’

  ‘And you opened it?’ he asked in surprise.

  ‘Seeing as it was addressed to me, I did.’ She handed it to him.

  As he read, a smile began to form. At last, he looked up and reached for her. He enfolded her in his arms. ‘I am a lucky man to have you, it seems.’

  ‘It does.’

  And as she laid her head against his chest, she thought of James Connolly, Michael Mallin, Con Colbert, Pádraic Pearse and Joseph Plunkett who had been amongst the sixteen rebels executed.

  ‘It wasn’t for nothing,’ she said, with both sorrow and hope. ‘We have changed the mindset of the people. It is not the end but the beginning. A beginning for others, though.’ She smiled at Danny.

  She had cried enough tears. She had cried for Patrick who had died fighting for his country. It was a noble way to go but the fact remained: he was no more. She had cried for James Connolly who had been executed strapped to a chair, unable to stand due to bullet wounds he had received over a week earlier. It was like losing her father all over again. She had cried for Joseph Plunkett who had married his love the night before he was executed. That, in particular, had broken Maggie’s heart. She had cried in relief for Tom who had been wounded, captured and interned in a prison in England. Madame didn’t need her tears, having escaped execution by pleading leniency on account of being a woman. Madame aside, there had been a lot of tears.

  ‘Will you take him up on his offer?’ Danny asked.

  Maggie looked at him. His father was putting him through medical school. She knew how happy that made him. And so she smiled. ‘Well, I am curious to learn more about this wonderful thing called democracy.’

  She would leave the fighting to others now. She had given enough of herself. She had caused enough worry. She would make a difference the way her mother did – by doing the best for those she loved. One day, she and Daniel might return home but for now her life was here with him. If his dreams came true, he would become a plastic surgeon specialising in war wounds; he already had his first patient lined up.

  ‘Now you truly must go,’ Maggie insisted. ‘Sabha is coming to help me get ready.’

  He stole a quick kiss and ran.

  The sound of her own laughter still surprised her. There would be more of it, she promised.

  Outside the church, Sabha made some last minute adjustments to Maggie’s dress, a dress that could not have been more precious to Maggie, given that her mam and sister had crafted it, with ‘every stitch filled with love’, as Lily had written.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Sabha said.

  ‘No, you do,’ Maggie argued.

  She smiled. ‘We can both look beautiful, Maggie.’

  ‘That is true.’ How grateful she was for their friendship, she who had once imagined herself incapable of friendship.

  ‘Better not keep them waiting,’ Sabha said.

  Maggie took a deep breath. She could not explain her nerves. She had never been more certain of anything.

  Sabha hugged her. ‘Good luck, my dear.’

  Walking into the shadow of the church, a thought struck Maggie. How strange it was that she who had never planned to marry was about to walk up the aisle before any of the girls at school.

  And then there he was, Daniel Healy, standing waiting at the top of the church in his new and adorable suit, the boy who had become a man in countries she had never known, the boy who had once told her that she did not have a monopoly on caring, the boy who had stayed when she had tried to make him leave. The boy she loved with all her heart.

  His smile was like honey pouring into her heart. She hoped that her smile had the same effect on him. She walked towards him, incredulous that this day had truly come, that she and Danny would make it to the altar. Even now, she half-expected a thunderbolt to crash through the roof of the church and strike them dead, yes, both of them, a forked thunderbolt that selected only them. She had to cover her mouth to keep her laughter in. How giddy she felt suddenly.

  She had waited so long for this and now she couldn’t wait, couldn’t wait, couldn’t wait to be his wife, to have the ring on her finger and his mouth on hers.

  Unbelievably, there was no thunderbolt – just words following words and finally a dream come true. And then, somehow, they were holding hands and running down the steps of the church.

  They turned to each other.

  He grinned. ‘Hello, Missus Daniel Healy.’

  ‘Hello, Mister Daniel Healy.’ She jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist – wedding dress, veil and all.

  Michael and Sabha covered them in confetti. And laughter.

  Today was about The Healys. Not about Ireland. Ireland’s stories were forever sad. And there was no room for sadness on this day. Only new beginnings.

  THE END

  acknowledgements

  Special thanks to the wonderful (and fellow Corkonian) Philip Lecane, my go-to man for all things military. Thanks also to Mike Lee, Jonathan Maguire and Paul O’Brien who were invaluable sources of historical information.

  Thank you to Katie Green for amazing editing and Rachel Lawston for the gorgeous cover.

  So grateful for the wise counsel of: Maruja Bogaard, Ellen Barnes, Amanda Byrne, Nikki Concannon, Maria Duffy, Roisin Duffy, Eoin Duffy, Eleanor Fitzsimons, Valerie Judge, Claire Hennessy, Catherine Ryan Howard, Marieke Nijkamp, Claire Rudd, Dana Sadan, Barbara Scully, Jane Travers and Laura Tyrrell. There is nothing better than honest friends!

  Grateful thanks for authorly support to Kate Beaufoy, Eleanor Fitzsimons, Hazel Gaynor and Kate Kerrigan. Huge respect, ladies. Huge.

  Muchas gracias to Emily Lyons for delicious cover photography and the very gorgeous Aimee Concannon for modelling.

  Heartfelt gratitude to my readers, especially those who take time to share their love of my books. So appreciated. A very big thank you to reviewers and bloggers, in particular Book Connectors, who play such a major role in supporting authors. Love you.

  Huge love and gratitude, as always, to Joe, Aimee and Alex for being there and being great.

  BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  The Butterfly Novels:

  And By The Way (US version)

  And For Your Information (US version)

  And Actually (US version)

  The Butterfly Novels: Boxset (US version)

  As Aimee Alexander:

  The Accidental Life of Greg Millar

  Pause to Rewind

  All We Have Lost

  Checkout Girl

  Find all Denise Deegan titles on Amazon.com

  Find all Aimee Alexander titles on Amazon.com

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