by Lorna Byrne
Joe would come home to his mother's about an hour after me and we would all have dinner together. Joe's mother was a great cook and I loved her bacon and cabbage and apple tarts. After dinner, Joe and I would go to the bus stop, hoping to catch the 10 o'clock bus into the city and then another bus to Leixlip, where I lived. When I think of it now, we spent an awful lot of time travelling on buses.
I still hadn't told my parents about Joe, although we had now been going out together for more than a year. Strange as it may seem, my mother never asked where I was in the evenings – perhaps she presumed I was working late all the time. I was a little apprehensive of what Da might think; whether he would approve or not, but I did know that Da really liked Joe. My big fear was what my mother would say when she found out.
It was normal practice to work late restocking the rails one or two nights a week. We worked out a roster for a two-week period and I usually worked Thursdays and Fridays; some of the girls didn't want to work Fridays, but I didn't mind because I saw Joe most evenings, and he often had to work late on a Friday, too. Sometimes I would also work on Wednesday evenings, depending on how busy the store was. Often I would find Mark working late on the same evenings as me. The Angel of Death was always visible to me; constantly holding on to Mark's soul. Mark was so happy he just beamed with life; but in my conversations with the angels they told me they had lost the battle.
One day I was working at the cash register with Valerie, one of the girls that I was friendly with, folding clothes and putting them into bags and Mark did something he had never done before. He came over to talk to us. He told us all about his girlfriend, how she was from Northern Ireland and he was going to see her at the weekend. He told us that he was crazy about her, that she was the best thing that ever happened to him and that in the future he hoped to marry her.
I saw his beautiful angel holding him as if he were the most precious human being in the world and I started to tremble.
The Angel of Death did not want to take Mark, but he would be left with no choice because people were not listening to their angels. I could hear the angel clearly speaking to me; I could have reached out and touched the Angel of Death as well as Mark, but I was told not to. Then Mark said he had to go.
I turned to Valerie and told her I had to go to the loo. I ran out of the shop, out the back door and into the loo. I sat there and cried. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to go back to work, giving out to the angels all the time because I felt so sad and so helpless.
After I'd been working in the store about a year, I was asked to work late one day, and I agreed. I knew I had to be there: Mark was working late as well. As I worked I watched Mark and his angel and I prayed. I could feel Mark's great joy and happiness, the great love he had for his girlfriend. I felt so sure that he was now engaged, that he was imagining his future with his girlfriend; that's what he was living for.
Everyone else had gone home, only the floor manager, Mark and I were left. The manager came up to me and asked if I was finished. I told him I needed about five minutes. When I finished stocking the rails I started to walk towards the cloakroom. I looked back to see Mark as he worked at the handbag counter. I hurried down the stairs to the cloakroom to get my coat, and then went back up the stairs quickly in the hope of getting another glimpse of Mark. I did – he was talking to the manager. I knew that would be the last time I would ever see him.
The shop door closed behind me. As I walked out through the car park and through the lanes at the back of the department store, I was giving out to the angels. I felt so helpless. All of a sudden, angels appeared in a brilliant light, surrounded me and reached in and took my soul from my body. From that moment on I remember nothing. I don't remember my journey home or anything else that evening. Waking up the next morning, I knew that the angels had transported my soul so that I could be with Mark spiritually, leaving my body and soul connected by a thread.
As I got out of the bed the next morning my body felt so light that I could hardly feel the floor beneath my feet. I felt very still and quiet in myself. I got dressed slowly and went downstairs. I felt very weak and unwell. In the kitchen Mum asked if I was okay and told me that I looked very pale.
I poured myself a cup of tea, took a slice of toast and went out into the back garden, tea and toast in hand, to check on my pet rabbit. This was only an excuse; I did not want to worry Mum. I said goodbye to her and headed down the road to the bus and then I noticed two angels, one at either side of me – they were carrying me.
I smiled and said, 'Thank you, angels. Please help me to feel a little bit better, physically, or I won't make it through the day.'
I could hear the angels whispering in my ear, 'Don't worry, Lorna. We're taking care of you.'
There were a dozen or more people waiting for the bus as I walked across the road to the bus stop. As I approached it I was saying to the angels, 'Please let me get a seat. I won't be able to stand.'
Within minutes the bus arrived; it was crowded but I got a seat at the very back. I fell asleep and was awoken by rustling – the man sitting directly in front of me was reading the morning paper. The headline read: 'Young man gunned down in Dublin City'. I closed my eyes; I was devastated.
When the bus reached the terminus, I got off with a crowd and walked across the bridge towards Mary Street. I kept walking, and as I was passing a shop called 'Hector Greys', there was a radio blaring. I heard the newscaster saying 'A young man has been gunned down.'
I started to run, and as I entered the lane alongside the department store the tears were running down my cheeks. There was no one else around. To my horror, I saw chalk marks on the ground and torn yellow tape – this is where Mark had been murdered, where he had been gunned down. There was no one there; no police, nobody! I felt as if nobody cared. I felt so cold and completely overwhelmed.
Everyone at work was talking about it. I kept myself away from all of them so I wouldn't have to listen. I couldn't avoid it, though. People thought it was a sectarian killing, perhaps because of his girlfriend in Northern Ireland. One thing I do know about Mark, though, is that he went straight to Heaven. Remember, I had seen his soul when the angel stooped over and touched it: his soul was beautiful, blue crystal clear without a stain. When he died the angels were there with him and especially the Angel of Death – as were some members of his family that had gone before him – and they all gently took Mark straight to Heaven.
When lunch time came that day, I called Joe and asked him to meet me after work at the back entrance to the store. I told him that I was off work the next day and we could go out that night. I still felt terrible and I needed his arm around me, to make me feel a little better. I was also very weak and felt unable to walk as far as the bus stop. I've never forgotten Mark.
Chapter Ten
The bombers
Joe and I loved the weekends. Every four weeks I would have a long weekend off work and Joe arranged with Da to have those weekends off too, whenever he could. I teased him that he was lucky to work for my father. We always planned the weekends ahead of time; some of our favourite places to go were the Dublin Mountains, the Wicklow Mountains and Brittas Bay, a beautiful beach along the coast, south of Dublin.
Travelling on the bus home with Joe one evening he said, 'How about going to the Sally Gap in the Wicklow Mountains this weekend?' So, when Sunday morning came around Joe arrived at my house at nine o'clock sharp. I met him across the road, around the corner, where my family couldn't see us. I had packed a picnic of ham and cheese sandwiches, apples and a bar of chocolate. He gave me a big kiss and said, 'Let's go', and we headed straight down to the bus stop – just in time, too, as the bus was coming.
When the bus reached the Wicklow Mountains, everyone got off and seemed to be walking in the same direction as us. I was surprised to see so many couples and families with children. I said to Joe that I didn't realise this area was so popular. That day we walked about a mile to an area high up and full of enormous rocks. It wa
s fabulous: mountains all around us, the fresh air so clear and crisp. We clambered over the big rocks, something I loved doing, but Joe had to help me frequently as they were gigantic and I am tiny, but they were no problem for Joe. We had a lot of fun.
We sat down on one of the big rocks and had our picnic and we talked for hours; sitting there, soaking up the sun, admiring the beauty of the mountains. Eventually, we packed what was left of our picnic into the bag; Joe took the bag from me and put his arms around me. As we were about to climb down off the rock, something happened which was a great surprise to me. Joe's angel appeared behind him, to his right hand side and about one step behind him. I smiled at the angel and it said, 'Lorna, see where the sun is shining on that little lake. Go there.'
Joe asked, 'What is that great smile for?'
I couldn't tell him that I was smiling at his angel; I still hadn't got up the courage to tell him that I could see angels and other things. I was afraid of his reaction.
'Look over there,' I said, 'where the light from the sun is shining on that small group of trees and rocks; is that a tiny little lake I see?'
'How come we didn't see that before now?' asked Joe.
We walked in the direction of the little lake, and when we reached it we met a couple who were having a picnic and they invited us to share a cup of tea with them. We all sat together and talked and laughed on the shore of the little lake.
The angels allowed me to see beautiful things that day. It would have been wonderful if I had been allowed to share my secret with Joe then, and if the angels had allowed him to have seen what followed, but it was not to be.
The lake was like a sheet of glass; the reflections of the trees bounced off the water, as did that of a kingfisher who flew across the lake. I could see another kingfisher moving under the water, then its reflection as it rose out of the water, showing an iridescent flash of the colours of the rainbow. It bounced up, breaking through the surface of the lake, causing a ripple and almost touching the end of the other bird's tail. It looked like there were more than one bird: it was as if there were a multitude of birds flying behind.
Then the angels said, 'Lorna, it's time to go.'
I told Joe it was starting to get dark and that we had better head back. The couple with us said that they had a compass and knew a different way back and they suggested we should walk together.
We did. I don't know how long it took us to get back to the bus stop, but I was exhausted when we did. Joe, gentleman as ever, came all the way to my front door, gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek and ran down to catch the 'ghost bus' back into Dublin. I asked the angels to protect Joe so he would get home safely. I also asked the angels to keep Joe well: Joe appeared to be full of beans, full of energy: but I could see the organs of his body were starting to become diseased; they had shrivelled slightly in size and seemed to have a grey look about them. The change was slight, but it was clear to me. I feared this was the beginning of the ill health that Elijah had spoken about.
I have never forgotten the day my mother found out that I was going out with Joe. It was a day I was off work: I did a few jobs around the house for Mum and spent some time with my rabbit, Isabel. My sister Emer was there that afternoon too, and, as usual, Mum more or less ignored me. All of my life I have noticed if I walked into the room when one of my sisters or brothers were talking with my mum, they would stop talking. If I stayed in the room or sat down and joined them, the conversation would stop altogether. Sometimes I felt a little sad that my family did not want to share with me.
Joe and I had a date at 6.30, so later that afternoon I came in from the garden to get ready. Mum was in the kitchen and she asked me where I was going. I told her I was going to catch the five o'clock bus and continued on through the hall and up the stairs.When I was in the bedroom, I heard Mum and my sister coming up the stairs. I shared the bedroom with my sister, so I thought she was going to come in, but she didn't. They went into Mum's bedroom. I could hear them talking, but I was too excited about meeting Joe to take any notice. Now I realise that Mum must have been quizzing Emer. As I came out of the bedroom, they were both standing on the landing. Emer looked at me guiltily.
'What's wrong?' I asked.
Mum screamed at me, 'Where do you think you're going?'
I was shocked! I had never seen Mum this way before. I told her I was going to Dublin. Mum shouted back at me, demanding to know was it true that I was going out with one of the petrol pump attendants in my da's garage? Mum was going ballistic; 'You're going out with that Joe! How long has this been going on for? I want to know! It ends right now!'
Mum was extremely upset. I looked at her and said in a very clear voice: 'I have been going out with Joe for months now and I'm going to continue to go out with him. Now I'm going to meet him.'
As I turned to go down the stairs, Mum grabbed my arm tightly and started to pull at me, still shouting. 'How dare you shame us by going out with someone lower class!'
I was really shocked at how upset she was – this was a part of my mother that I had never seen before. To her mind, Joe was beneath us. I just looked at Mum and continued down the stairs. She held my arm tightly, pulling at me and saying, 'You are not going for that bus to meet that young man, Joe.'
I could see Mum's guardian angel standing behind her, in tears; some of the tear drops were falling onto Mum's head. Da was doing well now and they had a house of their own, and Mum had forgotten that we as a family had once been homeless, and then had considered ourselves lucky to be given a corporation house. We had been poor, like so many other families in Ireland at that time. Perhaps what made it worse for Mum was that she came from a well-off family. They had felt that she had married beneath her.
Now she held on to me so tightly that I had to be extremely firm with her. 'Let go of my arm, you're hurting me. I don't want to miss the bus. You'll have to accept the fact that Joe and I are going out together.'
Mum's beautiful angel bent over her and embraced her whole body, and just then Mum let go of my arm.
I pulled away, saying, 'Mum, I love you.'
I continued down the stairs, out the hall door and ran down the road to the bus. As I sat on the bus, I thought about my mum and her guardian angel.
Joe was standing at the bus stop in Dublin, waiting for me. I was so happy to see him that I gave him a big hug, but I never told him how upset I was. I never – then or ever – told Joe what Mum had said, because I knew it would hurt him.
We strolled in the direction of a nearby pub, Maguire's, which had a music night – I always loved hearing music. Joe had a pint of Guinness; I seldom drank alcohol and had a 7Up. Slowly the music and Joe's arm around me calmed me down, and I almost forgot about my mother.
A few days later, Da spoke tome. 'I hear from your Mum that you and Joe are a couple.'
He said he had noticed something between us, but had no idea we were actually going out together. 'God! You kept that a big secret.'
Da said that all that mattered was that I was happy. Da did a lot for Joe: he helped him to learn the business and encouraged him to move on in life, which was great for us. Mum never spoke to me again about what happened that day – it was as if it had never happened.
Sometimes the angels prepare me for things that are going to happen; sometimes they give me visions and when this happens, everything around me just vanishes. It's like being transported to another time and place. Sometimes it is like having a flickering television screen in front of me; other times it's like a film going very fast. Sometimes this is very difficult for me because I am unable to understand what is happening. The 'film' might stop for a brief second, then I might see a person or a place. Visions happen in many different ways.
One spring morning, when the weather should have been getting brighter and sunnier, I got out of bed and dressed for work. I drew back the curtains of my bedroom window and looked out. Everything seemed to have a touch of grey about it: it was as if grey paint was being sprayed into the atmos
phere and was covering everybody and everything. I stood there for a moment, looking out the window. I saw a neighbour coming out of his house, saying goodbye to his wife at the door, walking towards his car and driving away. He, his car and everything around him had a touch of grey. Another car came down the road and it too was covered in the same greyness. A young man ran past the house, and although the atmosphere around him danced, it was also grey.
I went downstairs, made myself some tea and gave Tiger, the cat, some milk. As I left for work I shouted goodbye up the stairs. Walking down to the bus stop I called my angels but they did not appear to me physically. I asked them, 'Why does everything look so strange?'
'Don't worry, we are protecting you,' they whispered.
As I approached the main road, I saw the bus coming and I ran to catch it. The bus was crowded but I managed to get a seat. I felt very strange: I was starting to feel stillness and silence creeping up on me. I looked at the people on the bus, they, too, had that touch of grey about them. Even the bus itself did not feel right; nothing looked real. When the bus pulled into the terminus, on the quays by the River Liffey, I called my angels again. They didn't answer me.
As I walked through the doors at the back entrance to work I felt so light – it was like everything was in slow motion. I saw some staff and managers already working. Only then did I notice that nobody had an angel with them; not even on the bus! I was shocked, I felt myself tremble.