Taking Sides

by Brian Gallagher

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good girl,’ he said, then he handed her a bunch of red roses that he had bought from a hawker in Dame Street. ‘Here’re the flowers. We’ll be strolling behind you, with two more of us on the far side of the street. Once you’ve warned your da, what do you do?’

  ‘I hit the ground. And I stay there till you tell me it’s safe to get up.’

  ‘That’s it. OK, Annie, good luck. You’re a brave girl.’

  The dark haired detective offered his hand, and Annie shook it. Her heart was pounding and she felt herself getting really scared. She wished none of this had ever happened. But it had happened, and she had to help Da, now, before she lost her nerve. She took a deep breath, partially covered her face by holding the flowers high, then started walking.

  The briefing with the police had taken place out of sight of the Model T, but soon she turned the corner and saw it up ahead. There were two other cars parked along the side of the road, their bodywork covered in intricate white patterns from the hard frost that had come down. Annie was oblivious to the cold, however, and her pulses raced as she wondered if she was now being watched by the kidnappers. She felt really exposed as she walked across the frosty cobblestones towards the Model T, but she resisted the temptation to look around for the reassuring presence of the plain-clothes policemen.

  It was only about five more yards now to the car, and Annie could see her father’s face, his features gaunt as he stared ahead through the windscreen. He seemed so near and yet so far, and she fought back the urge to run to him, and instead kept to her normal walking pace.

  Annie raised the flowers even higher so that the kidnappers – if they were watching – wouldn’t recognise her before she got to the car. She knocked on the car window. ‘Buy a rose, Mister,’ she said.

  Da turned in his seat, obviously a little startled by the knock.

  ‘Only tuppence each, Mister,’ said Annie.

  Da looked at her in amazed recognition, and she quickly raised her finger to her lips, hoping he would get the message and not call out her name. He looked totally shocked, but obeyed her signal to be silent.

  Annie quickly opened the door of the car, offering the flowers. ‘Only tuppence for a rose, Mister,’ she repeated. Once the driver’s door was fully opened, she threw down the flowers. ‘It’s a rescue, Da!’ she shouted. ‘Jump onto the ground! Jump out!’

  Annie fell to the ground herself, as the policeman had told her to, but her father hesitated. From the corner of Annie’s eye she saw two men rising from the back of the car, where they must have been hidden under some form of covering. ‘Jump, Da!’ she screamed, then there were shouts of ‘Police! Drop your weapons!’ Just as Da jumped, a shot rang out, followed by five or six more in quick succession. Everything seemed to happen in a blur then as policemen swiftly converged on the car.

  ‘Drop your guns! Drop your guns!’ screamed the police officers.

  ‘All right!’ shouted a voice, and Annie heard two guns falling. There was flurry of activity at the car as the policemen dragged the two kidnapers from the vehicle. A frightened Annie stayed on the ground as instructed, but she turned to see if her father was OK.

  ‘Da?’ she said. ‘Da?’

  He turned to face her, and Annie drew back in shock on seeing blood on his face. She remembered the first shot that had rung out, before the police had fired, and she looked fearfully at her father, terrified that despite all her efforts he might still have been wounded. Then he smiled, and reached out and took her hand.

  ‘Am I glad to see you safe and sound!’ he said.

  ‘Your face, Da!’

  With his other hand, her father gingerly touched his bloodied cheek. ‘Must have cut it on the ground,’ he answered.

  Annie had never felt so relieved in her life. She grabbed Da’s hand in both of hers, then she heard the policeman’s voice.

  ‘You can get up now, Annie,’ he said, reaching down to help her to her feet. ‘You too, Mr Reilly,’ he added.

  They both rose, and the policeman looked at her father’s bloodied face.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, only a graze,’ answered Da, dabbing his cheek with a handkerchief.

  The two kidnappers were brought forward, one walking, and one being carried by two of the policeman on a makeshift stretcher.

  ‘Well?’ said the senior officer.

  ‘Flesh wounds in the calf and shoulder – he’ll live,’ answered the fair-haired policeman. ‘If he doesn’t face a firing squad.’

  Annie looked at the two prisoners. The man on the stretcher was the one who had abducted her from school. Had that only been this afternoon? It seemed like so much had happened since then. The other man was Mr McMahon from her Irish language club, and she locked eyes with him angrily.

  ‘How could you?’ said Annie.

  She had expected that Mr Mac might be ashamed, and perhaps would even apologise, but he looked at her defiantly.

  ‘Five good men were executed today. That had to be answered.’

  ‘By kidnapping a child?’ said Da, and Annie could hear the controlled fury in his voice.

  ‘We’re fighting for Ireland,’ answered Mr Mac. ‘Everyone must make sacrifices. Even you and your precious child.’

  Annie never saw Da move so fast in her life. Before anyone could stop him he swung a punch that knocked Mr Mac sprawling backwards. The shocked schoolteacher fell to the ground and lay there, clutching his jaw.

  ‘Nobody threatens my family!’ said Da. ‘If you ever look crooked at Annie again I’ll swing for you!’

  ‘OK,’ said the senior police officer, ‘take them away.’

  The two policemen with the stretcher started towards the waiting cars, and two other officers roughly hauled a cowed-looking Mr Mac to his feet, then bundled him off after the stretcher.

  The senior policeman turned back to Annie and her father. ‘That’s some girl you’ve got there,’ he said, smiling approvingly.

  ‘Isn’t she just?’ agreed Da.

  ‘You were really brave, Annie,’ said the policeman. ‘I’m going to recommend you for a civilian medal.’

  ‘Thanks … thanks very much,’ said Annie.

  ‘And now you’d probably like a minute with your da. I’ll see you both back at the car.’

  The policeman turned away, and Annie looked at Da. His face was still bloodied but he looked at her with a smile that seemed a mile wide. ‘I think I could do with a hug,’ he said. ‘How about you?’

  Annie grinned and threw herself into his arms. He held her tight, and for the first time since her ordeal had begun that afternoon Annie felt completely safe.

  Da gently stroked her hair and said, ‘You’re one in a million, Annie Reilly. You’re one in a million.’

  Annie smiled. Things had worked out as well as she could possibly have hoped. She was even going to get a medal from the police. But the main thing was that she had got Da back safely – and that was worth more than any medal. Her smile broadened, and she looked up at her father. ‘You’re one in a million too, Da,’ she said, then she closed her eyes and hugged him even closer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘Sligo? God, what will that be like?’ asked Susie, sitting forward quizzically on the sofa in her family’s drawing room.

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Peter. ‘I only visited, I’ve never lived there.’

  ‘I mean, Sligo – it’s miles away,’ she complained.

  Peter raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s the whole idea.’

  ‘And where exactly will you go to school?’ asked Tommy.

  ‘I don’t know. It was only decided last night.’

  ‘I hope it’s not some hedge school!’

  ‘Thanks, Tommy,’ said Peter sarcastically. ‘But I think Sligo does better than hedge schools.’

  The bright morning sun was melting last night’s frost, and Peter looked out the window at the O’Neills’ garden, the scene of so many adventures with Tommy and Susie. He wondered wi
stfully when he might see it again. Still, being here at all was an achievement. He had had to work on his father to let him come and say goodbye to his friends.

  The family had spent the previous night in the safety of the Shelbourne Hotel, and Peter was taking the Sligo train later this morning. But however Sligo might turn out, Peter thought that it couldn’t be worse than Dublin had been last night. He had had to tell his story again to his mother, to John and Mary, and had felt really guilty at seeing his mother in tears. John had become very angry with him until their father had told him to calm down, but Mary had been more sympathetic. Even so, it had been a nightmare having to confess all of what he had done.

  Then there had been the worry that the house might have been burnt. Luckily that hadn’t happened – he had seen from the distance that it was intact as his father had pulled into the O’Neills’ driveway a few moments ago. Dad still wanted to get him out of Dublin urgently however, before contacting the authorities and re-occupying the house. Because of this Peter had just ten minutes to spend here before going to the railway station with the rest of the family.

  So he had told his friends a much shortened version of his involvement with the rebels, and of the betrayal by Mr Mac – whom Susie had declared to be a ‘double-dealing, stinking rat!’ Peter had explained then about Annie’s escape, and how she must have succeeded in getting to her father in time, as there had been nothing in the morning papers about any government officials being hijacked or shot. He told the twins how his father had refused to let him go to Annie’s home to apologise, fearing that the Reillys might have him arrested, and how Dad had had to be persuaded to come here instead of going straight to the train station. And now his time was almost up.

  ‘Sure, don’t worry,’ said Susie cheerfully, ‘whatever the school, they’ll have Christmas holidays. We’ll see you then, won’t we?’

  ‘Yeah, probably,’ answered Peter, although he wasn’t sure if his father would think it safe to have him back in Dublin that soon.

  ‘You’ll be missed on the rugby team,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And I hate admitting it, but you’ll even be missed outside of the rugby team!’ said Susie.

  ‘Thanks, Susie,’ he answered, smiling despite himself. ‘Will you give Annie a letter for me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Peter reached into his inside pocket and took out an envelope with the Shelbourne Hotel crest on it, which he gave to Susie. ‘Don’t let my Dad see it; he doesn’t want anyone else to know where I’m gone.’

  ‘I’ll deliver it in secret,’ said Susie enthusiastically, then she slipped it behind one of the cushions on the sofa.

  Just then there was a knock on the door. ‘That’ll be Dad,’ said Peter, and they all rose. The door opened, and Peter saw his father standing there with Mr O’Neill. He wondered how much Dad had confided in his friend – probably most of the story, from the curious way Mr O’Neill was looking at him now.

  ‘Time to go,’ said his father.

  Peter stepped out into the hall, followed by Tommy and Susie. Then Mr O’Neill came forward and offered his hand. ‘Good luck, son,’ he said. ‘And keep your head well down for a while.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr O’Neill, I will.’

  ‘But even if you keep your head down, keep your sunny side up!’ said Susie.

  ‘I’ll try,’ answered Peter with a grin.

  ‘Good luck, Peter,’ said Tommy, and to Peter’s surprise, there was a catch in his friend’s voice.

  All of a sudden Peter felt a little emotional himself, not knowing when he would next see Tommy, who had been his pal for as long as he could remember. He didn’t want to get all soppy, so he quickly held out his hand.

  ‘See you, Tommy,’ he said. ‘Mind yourself.’

  Tommy shook his hand, then Peter nodded in farewell and followed his father out the front door. They both got into the car, and Dad started up the engine. Mrs O’Neill was at morning Mass, but the other three members of the family came out onto the step as the car started up. Peter turned in his seat as his father pulled away along the gravel drive, and he saw Mr O’Neill, Tommy and Susie waving goodbye. He waved fondly in return, and felt a tear rolling slowly down his cheek, then the car rounded a curve in the drive and his friends slowly faded from sight.

  Annie was having a strange day. After the dramatic events of last night, everyone had been pampering her. Even her brothers, Sean and Eamon, had been really nice to her this morning – and Annie figured that she might as well enjoy it while it lasted!

  When she had finally come home with Da last night, her mother had fussed over them and made Annie drink sweetened tea, for shock. Annie had gone to bed, exhausted, and had slept through until ten o’clock this morning. The special treatment had continued then, and Da had brought her up breakfast in bed, including his speciality – fried bread made with rasher fat. Da claimed that using really hot rasher fat made the best fried bread in the world, and Annie loved the special occasions when he made it.

  If all of that hadn’t been enough, no sooner had Annie washed and dressed than Susie had arrived. She had made a big fuss of Annie, hugging her and telling her that she was a heroine. Susie had brought a box of sweets as a special present, and a letter that she kept hidden from Annie’s parents, but which she handed to her later, when they were alone.

  Quizzed about last night by Susie, Annie had sworn her to secrecy and told her how she had misled the police so that Peter didn’t feature in the drama at the cottage. This had met with high approval from Susie, but she explained that Peter was still paying a price, and being sent away to school in Sligo. Annie had been shocked, but although she would miss him, she understood Mr Scanlon wanting to keep Peter out of trouble with the police, and out of sight of the anti-Treaty people.

  Annie had been breathlessly questioned by Susie on all the details of yesterday’s adventure, but eventually Susie pointed to the letter and rose dramatically. ‘I know you’re dying to read it,’ she said, ‘so I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘No,’ said Annie, even though she was dying to read it.

  ‘I have to be back anyway,’ answered Susie, ‘we’re going off to visit relations in Westmeath.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’

  ‘But I’ll see you on Monday. In what land?’ asked Susie with grin.

  ‘In Ecland!’ answered Annie, as her friend laughingly chanted it with her.

  Susie had said goodbye to Ma and left. Now, finally, Annie had a chance to read Peter’s letter.

  She sat on her bed, eagerly opened the envelope, and began to read.

  Dear Annie,

  First of all, I’m so, so sorry for getting you into such a mess. I hope you’re well after all that’s happened, and that you and your father are fine. I think you must be, seeing as there was nothing about any kidnappings in this morning’s papers, so that’s good.

  But I really wish you hadn’t suffered because I was stupid enough to get involved with Mr Mac. I don’t know what I was thinking, Annie. It seemed like an adventure, and that we were fighting for something good, but I shouldn’t have got caught up with things I didn’t know enough about.

  Anyway, I’m sure Susie told you what’s happening, and that I’m being sent to live in Sligo, and I have to catch the morning train. I’m really sorry I couldn’t call to say goodbye, but Dad is afraid I’ll be arrested, and wants to get me out of Dublin while he tries to fix things up with some people he knows.

  I know that I’ll miss yourself, Tommy and Susie when I’m in Sligo, but maybe Dad will let me come home for Christmas if he doesn’t think that’s too soon. If not, I’ll see you sometime next year, either at Easter or at the very latest when the schools break up for summer.

  Good luck in Eccles Street, Annie. I know you really love it, and no-one deserves to be there more than you. So go on and be Swot of – sorry – Student of the Year!

  I have to go now, Dad is calling me.

  With Best wishes till we meet aga
in.

  Your Friend,

  Peter

  Annie smiled as she finished the letter, but she also felt a little sad. Partly it was because Peter was being sent away, but also she sensed somehow that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas, and that it might be a good while before she saw him again.

  She hoped that she was wrong, and she hoped too that Peter would be happy in Sligo. And maybe next summer the war would be over and their little gang could all get together again and have fun like before. Was that just a dream? Maybe. But going to Eccles Street had been a dream too, and that had come true.

  She remembered the way Peter had proposed a toast with his lemonade glass at one of their gatherings, and in her mind she raised an imaginary glass now. Here’s to you, Peter, she thought to herself.

  ‘Annie, lunch is ready!’ called her mother from downstairs.

  ‘All right, Ma,’ she answered.

  Anne smiled at her own foolishness, but finished her imaginary toast. Here’s to all of us staying friends.

  Then she re-sealed the letter, hid it safely in a novel on her bookshelf, and made for the door and her waiting family.

  EPILOGUE

  The civil war continued for several more months, but the army made steady progress in defeating the scattered rebel forces. In April 1923, the IRA Chief of Staff, Frank Aiken, ordered a ceasefire, and the conflict finally ended on 24 May when a further order was made to dump all arms.

  Annie never saw Peter again. His family spent Christmas 1922 with their relations in Sligo, and the following spring Mr Scanlon bought a dental practice in Sligo town, and the family relocated to the West of Ireland. Mr Scanlon continued to play golf, and Mrs Scanlon became known as one of the best bridge players in county Sligo.

  Peter stuck with his decision not to follow his father into dentistry, but did well in school and college and became a respected historian. In his late twenties he emigrated to Canada, and in time, became Professor of History at the University of Toronto.