Taking Sides

by Brian Gallagher

  ‘So what?’

  ‘So the whole world is changing, dummy!’ said Susie.

  ‘Says who?’ persisted Tommy, though Annie suspected that the main reason he was taking this stance was so as not to be bested by his sister.

  ‘It is, Tommy,’ she said reasonably. ‘They said a woman couldn’t be elected to parliament, but Countess Markievicz proved them wrong. Didn’t she, Peter?’

  Peter hesitated, and Annie sensed that he didn’t want to side with the girls against his friend. But picking Countess Markievicz had been a good choice. Despite being born an aristocrat, the countess had become a staunch republican who had fought in the war of independence, and who sided with rebels in the current civil war. It would be hard for someone like Peter to criticise her.

  ‘Yeah, she did,’ he admitted.

  ‘And I bet there’ll be women on this new radio station too,’ said Susie.

  Peter looked at her with interest. ‘What radio station?’

  ‘It’s called the BBC,’ said Susie. ‘And even though it’s in London, you’ll be able to pick up the signal and hear it miles away.’

  ‘Sister Claire told us all about it in science,’ said Annie.

  ‘Bully for her,’ said Tommy. ‘Anyway, Mr Mac is giving out lemonade in the kitchen,’ he added, abruptly changing the subject and indicating the small kitchen at the far end of the meeting room.

  ‘Do you want a glass?’ he said to Peter.

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’

  ‘Here, I’ll come with you, crosspatch,’ said Susie. ‘Do you want some lemonade, Annie?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  The twins headed off, and Peter looked at Annie. ‘She doesn’t let him away with much, does she?’ he said good-humouredly, then he picked up a screwdriver and returned to work on the set.

  Annie watched him, wondering how to phrase what she wanted to say. She hadn’t been alone with him since the incident the previous week when she had seen the gunman being hunted by the troops. It had played on her mind, and she looked at Peter now, then decided to take the plunge. ‘Peter?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Are you still…’ she paused, trying to find the right words. ‘I saw a man being shot at last week. The Army were chasing him, and he … he might have been killed. I really hope you’re not still … doing things.’

  ‘It’s OK, Annie, I’m not going to be killed.’

  ‘So you’ve stopped then?’

  Peter didn’t answer immediately, and Annie waited, wanting so much to hear him saying that he had stopped. Eventually he breathed out and looked her in the eye. ‘You’re a good friend, Annie, so I won’t lie. And I won’t involve you ever again, I promise you.’

  Annie felt her heart sink. ‘So you’re still involved.’

  ‘We’re not going to agree on this. So the less said, the better. OK?’

  Annie nodded reluctantly, and Peter nodded in return, then went back to work. But it wasn’t really OK. And she had a bad feeling, a feeling that sooner or later her friend was going to wind up in big trouble.

  ‘The Blackrock flanker is an animal!’ said Tommy as he walked with Peter along the school corridor in Belvedere. ‘You’d want to watch out; he broke the nose of the Clongowes scrum-half last week.’

  Peter gave his friend a wry grin. ‘You’re really whetting my appetite for the match.’

  ‘Just tipping you off.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  In spite of Tommy’s warning, Peter was looking forward to this afternoon’s rugby game. It would be a break from the continuing bad news in the civil war, where the army was gaining control of much of the country. It had reached the stage where Peter no longer enjoyed keeping his scrapbook of press cuttings, with the newspapers always biased against the rebels and the news so frequently bad. At times he even wondered if Annie might be right, and that maybe there came a point when you had to accept that you weren’t going to get all you wanted.

  He still hated the idea of giving up on a republic, though, and of swearing an oath of allegiance to the King, and his wavering views had hardened this week when the government announced that it was going to execute five captured rebels. Peter thought it was terrible that prisoners of war should face a firing squad, but that was going to happen on Friday unless there was a last minute reprieve.

  Peter and Tommy reached the end of the corridor now, then encountered Mr McMahon.

  ‘Off to play Blackrock, lads?’ the teacher asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ answered the two friends.

  ‘Don’t take any nonsense from that crowd. Get stuck in.’

  ‘Don’t worry, sir, we will!’ said Tommy with a grin.

  As a fervent nationalist, Mr Mac was far more passionate about Gaelic games than rugby. Belvedere was a renowned rugby school, though, so he was obliged to take an interest in the school teams. The schoolteacher looked thoughtful and he turned to Tommy. ‘Actually, would you do something for me before you go?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Run up, would you, to Father Crosby’s office, and ask him for the keys for the stationery cupboard.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ answered Tommy.

  ‘Good lad. You can drop them in to me at the staff room on your way out.’

  Tommy left his kitbag with Peter, then headed off, leaving his friend alone with the teacher. Peter sensed that Mr Mac had deliberately got rid of Tommy, but the teacher very rarely discussed Peter’s undercover missions in the school environment, and Peter was curious to know what was coming next.

  ‘I wanted a quick word.’

  ‘Sir?’

  Mr Mac lowered his voice. ‘Things are getting very hot, what with these threatened executions. So for the moment, I’m going to stand you down.’

  ‘Stand me down? But–’

  ‘Just a temporary measure. But the government is really getting ruthless.’

  ‘Is that not all the more reason to fight back?’

  ‘Don’t worry, we will. But just till the time is right, I’m standing you down.’

  ‘But I want to go on. I don’t care if it’s a bit riskier.’

  ‘Your courage does you credit, but it’s decided. It’s no reflection on you, Peter. And no-one else need know. This is just between you and me.’

  ‘But, sir–’

  ‘But nothing,’ said the teacher firmly. ‘This is not a suggestion, it’s an order. You don’t try and contact me, or Finbar, or Ned. You keep your head down and wait for further orders. Understood?’

  Peter didn’t understand. Why were they suddenly concerned now, when they had let him take risks in the past? But Mr Mac wasn’t someone with whom you argued.

  ‘Understood, Peter?’ he repeated, staring hard.

  ‘Yes, sir. Understood.’

  Mr Mac nodded, then softened his tone. ‘Good man. I’ll be in touch when the time is right. Good luck against Blackrock.’ The teacher nodded again, then turned and walked away.

  Peter stood in the corridor, awaiting Tommy, his mind racing. What the teacher had done didn’t really make sense. Mr Mac wasn’t the kind of person to do things on a whim, however, so there must have been some reason. But try as he might, Peter couldn’t figure out what it might be.

  PART THREE

  PRIVATE WAR

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The kidnap took Annie completely by surprise. She had said goodbye to Susie when they finished school for the day, with Susie going to a piano lesson in town and Annie heading for home on her own.

  She hadn’t taken much notice of the motor van that was pulled in at the pavement, its rear door ajar, on the corner of Dorset Street. As she approached the van, a man emerged from the back.

  ‘Annie, the very girl!’ he said heartily.

  He looked a little bit tough, but hearing him address her by name in a friendly tone made her stop.

  ‘Your da asked me to give you a lift home,’ said the man, and he put his hand on Annie’s shoulder, guiding her towards the van door.

  Briefly An
nie allowed herself to be led, then she stiffened. Something was wrong here. The man kept a smile on his face but gripped Annie’s arm tightly and firmly ushered her into the back of the van.

  ‘No!’ she cried, as he slammed the door shut behind them. She was about to scream for help, but the man clamped his left hand across her mouth, and with his other hand pressed a gun to her temple. He forced her down onto a large bale of hay that lay on the van floor.

  ‘Don’t scream, don’t make a fuss – I promise you won’t be hurt,’ he said.

  Just then, Annie heard the engine revving up, and she realised that he must have an accomplice driving the van. They pulled away, and the man spoke soothingly.

  ‘I’ll take away my hand and I’ll take away the gun if you don’t scream, OK?’

  Annie’s heart was thumping with fear, but she felt that she had no choice, and she nodded.

  ‘Good girl. Put this on,’ said the man, freeing her mouth and handing her a blindfold made from a woman’s scarf.

  Annie hesitated.

  ‘Put it on! This time tomorrow you’ll be back with your family – provided you don’t know where you’ve been held.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ said Annie, fighting to hold back her tears despite the man’s assurance that she would be free tomorrow.

  ‘It’s politics, Annie,’ said the man. ‘One day’s captivity is you doing your bit for Ireland. Now put that on.’

  Annie reluctantly put the heavy scarf around her eyes, and the man tied it firmly behind her head. She felt really scared, but she forced herself not to cry, and tried hard not to panic. There were lots of questions that she wanted to ask the man, but she knew that he wouldn’t answer them. She would have to rely on her own wits, she told herself.

  But why had these people abducted her? It didn’t make sense. Normally, people were kidnapped for a ransom, but her family wasn’t rich. And the man had said it was politics – so really there was only one thing that made sense. It had to be something to do with Da, and the dangerous work that he was doing, driving for the new government. But if they were going to use her to get at Da, what would they want him to do? And could she really believe that she would be freed tomorrow? A man who was willing to kidnap a twelve-year-old girl at gunpoint would hardly have qualms about lying.

  She still felt really frightened, but she had to keep her head and look out for herself, try to think clearly. She attempted to figure out where they were taking her. It had been a crisp autumn day with clear skies and a promise of frost in the air, and when the van suddenly turned left, she sensed a flash of sunlight, the blindfold not blocking out all light.

  The sun set in the west, so it looked like they were heading towards the north-western edge of the city. They drove on for about fifteen minutes, but with all the twisting and turning, Annie eventually lost her bearings.

  ‘Here we are,’ said the man when the van finally came to a halt. ‘We’ll be keeping you in the barn here, it’s comfortable enough. Now listen to me, Annie, and be a sensible girl. We don’t want to have to chain and gag you – so just give me your word that there’ll be no screaming or shouting.’

  Annie didn’t answer at once, and the man continued.

  ‘There’s no point calling for help anyway, you wouldn’t be heard. And we don’t want to hurt you. So, just be sensible, right?’

  ‘Right,’ said Annie, figuring it was best to play along for now. She felt her arm being taken.

  ‘OK then,’ said the man. ‘Out we get.’

  Peter was embarrassed not to have recognised Mrs Reilly. He had met her the day that Annie’s father had driven the four friends to Howth for the picnic, but that had been a short encounter, and seeing her now unexpectedly on his own doorstep, he hadn’t known at once who she was.

  The weather had been crisply cold all day, but the evening had turned frosty, and Peter tried to make up for his mistake by indicating the warm interior of the house. ‘Please, won’t you come in, Mrs Reilly?’ he said.

  ‘Thanks, son, but I won’t,’ she said, then she looked at him appealingly. ‘She’s not here with you by any chance?’

  ‘Annie? No, I haven’t seen her since yesterday.’

  ‘Oh God,’ said the woman plaintively. ‘You were my last hope. She never came home from school today and I thought maybe … maybe she’d visited you.’

  ‘No, sorry. Have you tried her other friends?’

  ‘She isn’t with Susie, and I spoke to all the girls on the Avenue. No-one’s seen her.’

  ‘And was she due home straight after school?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Yes. And Annie would always let me know if something changed.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I’m worried sick.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be fine, Mrs Reilly. There must be some reason.’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I’m afraid she … she might have been kidnapped.’

  Peter was taken aback. ‘Who’d want to kidnap Annie?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to say this. But her da often works driving government people. It’s where he is tonight, and I’m … I’m afraid this might be something to do with that.’

  Peter was stunned at the notion.

  ‘I’d better go,’ said Mrs Reilly.

  ‘Can I … can I help in any way?’ offered Peter, even as his head was reeling.

  ‘No. Thanks all the same, son.’

  ‘Are you sure? Do you want to use our telephone?’ he asked, knowing that Annie’s family – like most families in the city – didn’t have their own telephone.

  ‘No. You’re very good, but I won’t.’

  ‘Are you going to the police?’

  Mrs Reilly looked upset but she shook her head. ‘No. I’ll go and see my brother Mick first, he’ll know what to do. Say a prayer, Peter, that she’ll be all right.’

  ‘I will, I promise.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Mrs Reilly nodded, then turned and set off into the night, hurrying away across the sparkling, frosty surface of the driveway.

  Peter closed the hall door and straightened his shoulders, trying to steady himself. He was glad that it was a Friday night – his mother was in the drawing room with her bridge friends, and his father was working late, doing an emergency extraction. It gave Peter a breathing space to think uninterruptedly. And he had a lot of thinking to do.

  Something was badly wrong here, he just knew it. And he had a horrible feeling that he could have been an unwitting part of it. Could Mr Mac have used him to get to Annie? The older man had certainly overheard them one night in the club, when Annie had been talking about her father doing risky work to earn extra money. Would Mr Mac kidnap a girl – a member of his own club – as a way to strike a blow? Peter felt sick in his stomach at the thought, but he couldn’t shake it off. And it would make sense of something else. Maybe this was why he himself had been stood down so unexpectedly – to make sure he wouldn’t be in the way. He felt a sudden surge of anger. Annie was his friend, and if Mr Mac was involved in this, then he had betrayed them utterly. And he wouldn’t let him get away with it. He thought for a moment more, then made his mind up. To hell with being stood down, he decided. It was time to go into action.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Desperately seeking comfort and warmth, Annie smelt the warm rubber of the hot water bottle that she had been given, and she sat back on the hay-covered floor of the barn, hugging it to her chest. It was a smell she strongly associated with home. On chilly winter nights, she loved to look out from her bedroom window over the narrow expanse of the gas-lit St Alphonsus Avenue, savouring the wintry conditions and the beckoning warmth of her bed, heated as it was by her pink hot water bottle.

  The thought made her cry now, and she wished she was with her family. But after sobbing for a couple of moments, she steeled herself and dried her eyes, knowing that tears would get her nowhere. Her mother must be frantic with worry, and Da too if he had come home fro
m work and heard she was missing. But there was nothing she could do about any of that, and thinking about it would only make her feel worse.

  She had been locked in the barn for about three hours now, and had been treated fairly well. After being led through a house and into the barn, she had had the blindfold removed. Later on, they had supplied her with a large jug of water, a plate of stew, blankets and the hot water bottle. First, though, the man who had kidnapped her had forced her to write a note to Da, stating that she was all right, but confirming that she was held captive, and urging him to do as he was told. She hated going along with her captors, but the man had threatened her with the pistol. He had dictated exactly what she had to write, and Annie had been too afraid of him to refuse. He had left with the note then, and the food and water had been brought in by another man who sounded older. The second man had insisted that Annie stand with her face up against the far wall of the barn, and so she had never seen what he looked like.

  Annie presumed that the older man had driven the van, and that perhaps the farm on which she was being held was where he lived. She had wondered at first how they had known her movements, but then she had reasoned that they must have found out where Da lived. Perhaps they had watched the house and discovered that she went to Eccles Street, allowing them to lie in wait for her. It was a horrible feeling to think that someone had been stalking her, and it suggested that these people were painstaking and smart, as well as being dangerous.

  But she mustn’t keep thinking like a victim or she would make herself even more helpless, she decided. And she was smart, too. So maybe she could use her brains to fight back. She began to consider all that had happened. She thought back on how long they had driven in the van, and she calculated that although the barn was somewhere rural, it couldn’t be far into the countryside, and was probably just past the outer fringes of the city.

  The location wasn’t completely isolated either, because occasionally she could hear a vehicle driving past on a nearby road. And if she listened carefully, she could faintly hear what sounded like a river or stream flowing in the distance. As for the barn itself, it had a large rear door, and another door that seemed to connect it to the house from which the older man had brought the stew. Both doors were locked, and there were no windows, which made escaping difficult. But prisoners escaped from jails all the time. It was a matter of being daring and inventive. And with Da at risk, she had every reason to be both. She sat back on the hay, racking her brains, and trying to come up with a plan.