by Anna Smith
‘S … s … some … Atchoo!’ She tried again to get the words out. ‘S … some of you did this … someone on this bus took my clothes.’ Her lip trembled. ‘But don’t worry … I’ll find out … Oh, and when I find out … Atchoo!’ Miss Grant looked like the scariest woman we had ever seen. If her whole face had transformed into a snake or a monster or a dragon breathing fire, nobody would have been surprised. All the children on the bus sat stunned, terrified. They had never seen anything like this before. Tony, Dan, Jamie and me sat staring straight ahead. We never spoke nor dared even look at each other.
Miss Lannigan ushered Miss Grant into her seat, then slowly she began to walk up and down the aisle. Our hearts were in our mouths. We had to hold steady. We had to. Miss Lannigan looked each and every child in the eye.
‘If it ever comes to pass, children, that any one of you had even the slightest bit to do with what has happened here today, then there will be a wrath upon you that will surpass all understanding. If anyone on this bus has done this, they will pay. And if they don’t pay in this life, then there is not the slightest chance of them ever getting into heaven. You will burn in hell and nobody will give you a drop of water for your roasting tongue. I hope you understand that. Do you?’ She looked gravely at everyone.
‘Yes, miss,’ came the resounding reply from the bus load of innocents. Nobody on the bus believed that anyone in their midst would have been capable of doing such a thing. But each and every one of them wished in their hearts they could have been a part of it.
The bus engine revved and we were on our way home. Tony nudged me.
‘We’re home and dry … unlike some people I could mention.’ He didn’t even smile.
I stifled a laugh. I felt great. The heat of the bus soon warmed us and in minutes we were all drowsing, our eyes heavy. My head seemed to slip on to Tony’s shoulder as I dropped off to sleep, and I could feel him slide his hand into mine. I was the happiest I had been in my life.
Chapter Four
As the bus pulled into the village we could see the parents standing waiting at the cenotaph where the statue of the soldier stood as a reminder to everyone of the brave boys from our village who gave their lives during the war. All their names were inscribed proudly at the bottom of it, and the cenotaph was the central meeting place where everyone passed the time of day with each other and gossip was added to and lapped up by one and all.
All the kids strained their eyes to see their mums and dads, eager to get off the bus and tell the big story of the day, of how the trip was fantastic, but even better than that was Miss Grant arriving on the bus soaked to the skin, wearing only her swimsuit.
I could see my mum standing talking to Tony’s mum, and Jamie’s mum was talking to another group of people. But there was something wrong. Nobody was waving back to us in the normal enthusiastic way. All the mums and dads had grave, dark looks on their faces.
Then, as the bus slowed to a stop, we saw Dan’s uncle Brian standing looking through the window to see if he could see Dan. His face was red and his eyes looked as though he had been crying. Dan’s mum wasn’t in the crowd, and we couldn’t work it out. Dan had been laughing and joking with Jamie as he scanned the crowd looking for his mum, but when he saw his uncle Brian, his face fell. Something bad had happened. We all knew it.
When the bus stopped, Miss Lannigan got out first and was told something by one of the mums. She shook her head and put her hand to her mouth. She came back on to the bus and stood in the aisle.
‘Dan Lafferty, come out a moment, will you?’ she beckoned him.
There was fear and confusion in Dan’s eyes as he looked at each of us. We were all scared. He picked up his bag and went to the front of the bus. We watched as he climbed down to the street and was met by his uncle, who put his arm around him and ushered him away from the crowd. Some of the mums burst into tears. We could see Dan looking up at his uncle who was crouching over him, telling him something. Then Dan’s face crumpled into tears and his uncle clutched him tightly. We were almost crying watching. It must have been something very bad.
Miss Lannigan came back on to the bus, looking very serious.
‘Children,’ she began, ‘something terrible has happened. Dan Lafferty’s dad Tommy has been killed in an accident at the pit. There’s two other men dead as well. It’s been a terrible tragedy. I want you all to mention Dan in your prayers tonight. This is a very sad and difficult time for him and his family. A terrible time …’ Her voice trailed off. She was an old teacher and must have seen moments like this before when she had to take children out of the class and tell them someone had died.
We sat stunned, hardly able to take it in. Two hours ago we were laughing and screaming and playing the dirtiest trick we had ever done to anyone. Now Dan’s dad had died. What was it all about? Was God punishing us? Was that it? We all felt guilty inside. I could feel tears coming to my eyes. Poor Dan. He was the funniest of all the boys in the class and in some ways the baby. And after what he had told us about Father Flynn, it wasn’t fair that he had to go home now and not have a daddy. Who made all these rules? Dan’s dad was the best man in the village. He worked every hour that God sent, my mum said, and all he did was look after his wife and kids. Everybody respected him. He was one of the few people left working in the pit, which was being wound down and would soon be closed for ever. But that would be too late for Tommy.
We all got off the bus, shuffling, sad and shocked. As Tony got to the front, Miss Grant grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. She still had the driver’s jacket on, and a towel wrapped around her waist. But it wasn’t big enough to cover her enormous thighs. She had on a pair of black gym shoes that Miss Lannigan used to wear when she was teaching us country dancing. Miss Grant held Tony’s wrist there for a moment, not saying anything, but looking him straight in the eye. I knew and Tony knew what she was thinking, but Tony stared straight back at her. She might suspect him, but she could never be sure, and he knew that.
When I got off the bus, my mum came towards me and hugged me. I was already in tears. I couldn’t look at Jamie, who was walking with his mum, his chin in his chest. Tony stood on his own while his mum was still talking to people in the crowd. She came across to him and ruffled his hair, then they walked away. He had tears in his eyes.
On the way home we passed the Lafferty house, and there were people coming and going all the time. The blinds were closed to tell the world that someone had died. Dan’s mum Theresa would be breaking her heart. She was always carrying on with Tommy. They were like young people, still having a laugh. It was hard to understand how quick your life could change. I kept thinking maybe I would wake up and it had all been a bad dream.
‘What happened, Mum?’ I asked when I could compose myself.
‘Oh Kath, it was awful. Poor Theresa, she’s in an awful state. It was the black damp … you know, the gas down the pit. They just seemed to walk into a pocket of it and it killed them instantly. You get no warning with it, you know, no warning at all. It’s terrible … terrible. No way for any man to earn a living …’ She was shaking her head, her voice trembling.
My dad had worked in the pit for years, but got out of it three years ago. I remembered him coming home with his face still grimy, even though he had had a shower at work. My mum used to look out of the window every day when he left and then her eyes looked sad, because she hated him going down into the darkness, never really knowing if one day he wouldn’t come back out. It ruined people, she used to say. It made young lads old before their time, and sucked the life out of decent men. She hated it and so did my dad.
Our house was eerily quiet when we got in. Dad was sitting staring at the empty hearth, his face hard and his mind somewhere else. I could see that he had been drinking. Ann Marie was reading the newspaper and Kevin was making the tea. Nobody was saying much. I sat in the chair opposite Dad, not speaking, just looking at him.
Finally he looked up.
‘Ah, Kath, ma wee
darlin’. How was the trip?’ He was drunker than I’d thought.
‘Great … great, Daddy. B … but … Dan’s daddy’s dead. Terrible, isn’t it?’ I said.
He shook his head and stared at the hearth again.
‘He just would not be told, Tommy Lafferty and the others. They would not listen. I told them that pit was a death trap and it was time it was shut, but no, Tommy would work till he died. Well, he’s dead now, and Theresa’s a widow and Dan and his brother and sister have no da. A lot of good that did him, working himself to a bastardin’ early grave.’ His voice was angry, but tired and sad.
Kevin came in from the kitchen and gave me a playful punch.
‘Where’s the presents then?’
‘Oh … I could only get some pens and an ashtray. There wasn’t much.’ I turned my bag out on to the floor and produced an ashtray in the shape of a big seashell. It had some kind of poem on it from Rabbie Burns. The lines read: ‘O wad some power the giftie gie us, to see ourslels as ithers see us.’
‘What does that mean, Kevin?’ I asked.
‘Oh … it’s some very wise words, that we should all take to our hearts, Kath,’ Kevin said, but he was looking at Dad, whose eyes never left the hearth.
*
The three of us, Jamie, Tony and I, had sat on the back steps of my house for about half an hour trying to work out how we would approach the Lafferty house. We didn’t know if we should go there, but at the same time we wanted to see Dan. We didn’t know how he would be and what we should say.
We decided to wait until it was time for the rosary, then we would go in like everyone else and pray at the coffin – as long as we didn’t have to look at Dan’s dad. We were curious because none of us had seen a dead body before except in the films, but the thought of it was too scary.
People were arriving in droves at the house to pray over Tommy Lafferty’s body, but it was still sunny outside. It didn’t seem right. We slipped into the house and stood in the hallway hardly breathing as the house filled with people. We could hear the hushed tones coming from the living room and through the space in the half-open door I could just see Theresa Lafferty sitting on the chair, weeping with each person who came in and hugged her, passing on their respect and their tears. All you could hear were sniffs and sobs and sighs. I could see what looked like the edge of a coffin by the window. I strained my eyes to see more, dreading the moment I might catch a glimpse of the dead face, yet curious to see what it looked like.
The hallway was filling up and everyone was talking in whispers. A path seemed to clear when Father Flynn swept through the door, his prayer book in his hand. His big legs seemed to take the hall in three strides, and he nodded to people, his face sad but with a knowing look in his eye. I supposed that with him being a priest he would know where everybody went when they died. It was only the likes of us who had no idea and were crying when somebody left us. The priests always said they had gone to a better place. I often wondered where it was. It wouldn’t have to be great or anything like that to be better than where we were. Just a better place would be fine. I was glad in some ways that Tommy was in a better place, because then he wouldn’t have to work in the dark every day with the dust in his lungs and the sweat pouring out of him. But I bet that no matter where he was he missed Dan and Theresa and the rest of the family. I didn’t understand all this stuff about a better place. But that was how it was.
The moment Father Flynn was about to go into the living room, Dan appeared at the door and they came face to face. Father Flynn immediately put his arm around Dan’s shoulder and pulled him towards him, gently. For an awful moment, we thought he was going to kiss him, but much to our relief he didn’t. The colour rose in Dan’s cheeks. He obviously thought the same as us.
Dan managed a half-smile to us and we could only do as much back.
‘In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit …’ Father Flynn’s Irish voice boomed out the rosary and there was a general rustling in pockets and purses as everyone got out their beads.
Jamie, Tony and I counted the Hail Marys on our fingers. It seemed to go on for ever. Finally the end came. ‘Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, Hail Our Life, Our Sweetness and Our Hope … To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this vale of tears …’ We recited it parrot fashion, but our minds were far away in the hideouts where we made our own little dreams and fantasies. Nobody could touch us there, or so it had always seemed. But as we prayed and listened to the sobs from every corner of the room we each knew our lives were changing. Through the door I could see Dan sitting in the corner crying his eyes out. I could feel myself choking back tears until I could hold them no more. I kept my head down and the tears ran down my face and dripped off my chin.
When the rosary finished people started to filter away, but the living room was still full of women sitting around with handkerchiefs in one hand and beads in the other. There were long, sweaty silences, then some old person would utter some words of wisdom that seemed to be to nobody in particular.
‘Oh Jeez, it was a quick call for Tommy all right. Too quick … Too quick.’
‘Oh aye, but it’s not the now, it’s the long winter nights she’ll miss him!’
Theresa was sobbing softly and shaking her head at the thought. My mum sat next to her, holding her hand.
All the men were in the kitchen where my sister Ann Marie and some other teenage girls were clattering cups and gathering plates with mountains of sandwiches to hand round to everyone. Dan’s uncle Brian was pouring whisky into glasses for the men, who were standing around with their black ties on and their faces serious. My dad’s eyes were red as though he had been crying, but it might have been the drink. My brother Kevin stood at the opposite end of the kitchen with Jamie’s cousin Arthur. They were both swigging from cans of beer and smoking furiously while they talked intently with each other. I thought I heard Kevin say something that sounded like, ‘When Dessie and me get to Australia …’ It was said during a pause in the conversation in the room and I think my dad heard it too, because he shot a glance at Kevin that could have turned him to stone. Kevin didn’t flinch, though, and looked straight back at him.
Uncle Brian took Dan by the arm and ruffled his hair.
‘Away and take some sandwiches and a bottle of lemonade outside wi’ yer pals, son. Ye don’t want to be standin’ around in here wi’ all the big people. On ye go now, son.’ He motioned Dan to the table. Dan collected some sandwiches and wrapped them in a tea towel. We looked at him, hoping he would lift some fairy cakes as well, and were glad when he did. The four of us shuffled out of the back door.
It was getting dark but it was muggy and warm, and we sat down on the grass at the top of the garden. Everything around us seemed to be so quiet. Even the birds weren’t singing and the sound of the odd dog barking seemed to make the gardens that backed on to each other lonely and empty places. We all ate our sandwiches in silence, nobody quite sure of what to say.
‘Did you see him, Dan? Did you look?’ I couldn’t believe Jamie had just come out with it. Tony and I looked mortified, but we were also curious. We all looked at Dan. He looked at each of us.
‘Aye.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I saw him. He was funny-looking … like he was sleeping. But he’s not.’ Dan looked at the grass.
‘Did you touch him?’ Jamie ventured.
‘Oh for God’s sake, Jamie,’ I said, exasperated.
We all waited for Dan’s response. It seemed to take ages.
‘He was freezing, like ice. No, colder than ice. It wasn’t like my da at all … it’s not my da.’ His voice began to quiver and he looked at me with tears in his eyes. ‘Oh Kath, why did he have to die? He was just my da. He was great …’ The tears ran down his face and his body heaved as he sobbed. I put my arm around his shoulder and Tony leaned over and touched his leg. Jamie sat with his knees tucked up to his chin, fighting back tears.
‘It would have been better if it had been my da,’ Jamie s
aid, tears in his eyes. ‘At least my ma would get peace.’
Nobody spoke. We all just sat waiting for Dan to stop crying. Eventually it was Tony who broke the silence.
‘I wonder if Miss Grant has dried out yet?’ We all looked at each other and burst out laughing, remembering how fantastic and scared and excited we had felt just a few hours ago.
‘Do you think she’ll ever find out?’ Jamie asked, stuffing a whole fairy cake into his mouth.
‘She grabbed my arm when I was coming off the bus and the ugly bitch looked me full in the eye. She thinks deep down it was me, but she’ll never know. And that’s the good part. As long as we stick together, she’ll never know,’ Tony said, looking at all of us, willing us to stick together.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘She’ll never find out. It’s our secret till the day we die.’
There was another long silence as we looked at the crescent moon that was just visible as the sky grew darker.
‘Did you ever see your dad’s dead body, Tony?’ Jamie asked. I looked at him, then at Tony. You just never knew what Jamie was going to come out with next. Tony’s face went very serious. He didn’t say anything for what seemed ages. Then he took a deep breath.
‘Look, guys, er, it’s not the way I said it was … er, everything. I just didn’t know how to tell you, because I was scared you would think I was just an asshole, but I … well, I kind of lied about my dad.’ His voice was beginning to shake. We had never seen him like this. He never showed any kind of weakness. We were stunned.
‘What do you mean, Tony?’ I said. ‘Is your dad not dead? Was he not a pilot? What … what do you mean?’