by Joan Lingard
Shouts rang out behind her, lights sprang up at windows. She scuttled faster, almost on hands and knees, grazing the skin of her hands. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the beam of a torch in a yard. She would have to take cover.
The next house was dark. She dropped down into its yard and stumbled against the dustbin. She lifted the lid. It was a large bin and it was empty. The smell was not pleasant but better a bad smell than capture. The noises were coming closer. She climbed inside, curled herself into a tight ball and pulled the lid on top.
For a moment she thought she would be sick. She held her nose and swallowed deeply. And there was not an inch of space to move in. The next moment there were feet in the yard and she forgot the smell. She could hear her heart beating like a Lambeg drum and wondered that they did not hear it too. The thought of Lambeg drums cheered her. Remember the apprentice boys of Derry. No surrender!
‘Not a sign of her here either.’
She saw flashes of light as they fanned the yard with their torches.
‘We’ll search every yard. She can’t have got into the street She didn’t have time. Did you look behind the bin?’
‘Aye. Nothing there.’ A foot kicked the side of it and Sadie felt the reverberation in her side.
‘She’s hiding somewhere, I’m sure of it.’ That was Kevin’s voice. ‘I’m going home to get cleaned up. You tell the watches to stay on at either end of the street, back and front. We have her trapped.’
Lights, feet and voices moved away. She waited for a few minutes to make sure, then eased the lid off and climbed out into the fresh night air. She stank. She brushed old potato peelings from her clothes and then shook herself thoroughly, like a dog coming out of water.
She was tired now and longed for her bed. But how to get there was a different matter.
Chapter Ten
No Sign of Sadie
Dawn. Kevin walked stiffly round the block, tired from the long vigil. He had watchers on duty at four strategic points so that his own street and the one backing on to it were covered. The sky was lightening rapidly; flushes of pink and green were breaking up the greyness, sending down light between the houses. Everyone was asleep except for himself and his four guards. And the girl? What was she doing? Was there any chance that she was at home and asleep too? It did not seem possible. If he got his hands on her…
He had been in a terrible mess with the flour. It had clung to his eyelashes, filled his nose and mouth. He had had to stick his head under the tap and then the flour turned to dough. Brede had scraped it off with a spoon. At the remembrance of it, fresh energy came to him and he walked with a firmer step.
At the corner he found Brian sitting, cross-legged, his head nodding. Kevin disturbed him with his toe.
‘Fine guard you’d makel You’d let the enemy in with a truck of explosives.’
‘I wasn’t sleeping, honest I wasn’t. Just resting my eyes.’ Brian massaged his leg. ‘I’ve got cramp.’
‘No wonder. If you’d kept moving you’d have been all right. I hope the girl didn’t get past you.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘I suppose Sam over there would have seen her even if you didn’t. He still seems to be awake. Away home to your bed and give Tim Flaherty a knock up as you go.’
‘And what do you think Mrs Flaherty’s going to say to me if I come rapping at her door at this hour of the morning?’
‘Mrs Flaherty knows as well as the rest of them that in times of trouble the man have to turn out and do their duty.’
‘Trouble! You’d think you had a whole Orange Lodge holed up in there instead of one girl.’
Kevin shrugged. ‘I’m not letting her away with it though. She’s a queer cheek that one!’
‘Made you look a right eejit, didn’t she?’ Brian grinned and Kevin thought that there were times when Brian got on his nerves.
‘You can forget Tim Flaherty. Just go home and get your beauty sleep. You could be doing with it.’
Brian limped off, his leg still partially cramped. Kevin told the other boy to go too.’ I’ll watch both ends.’
He leant against the wall and watched the sun come up. The birds were twittering noisily from the rooftops. The milkman came down the street.
‘Haven’t seen a girl, have you?’ asked Kevin. ‘With long fair hair.’
The milkman shook his head. ‘No girls at all. Too early for them.’
At seven, Kevin called off the other guards. Brede was up making tea. He took a cup and drank it sitting on the doorstep.
‘So she got away?’ said Brede, coming to join him.
‘Looks like it. She must have got past Brian.’
‘She made the devil of a mess in my clean kitchen, what with flour all over the place and biro all over the table!’ Brede shook her head. ‘I don’t know what ma’ll say when she sees her table. I’ve given it a good scrub but I can’t get it out. I’ll get bleach when the shops open and try that.’
‘Da’ll have a fit if he’s to sit eating his dinner looking at” Long Live King Billy “. She’s got a queer nerve!’
‘Stop thinking about it and getting yourself worked up. You look dead beat. Why don’t you go to bed for an hour?’
‘I suppose I might as well. Can’t do much now.’ He yawned and stretched, feeling the tiredness spread right through his body. ‘Get my strength up for later.’
‘Later? What are you planning on?’
‘Nothing yet. But this can’t go unchallenged. It’s what you’d call an act of provocation.’
‘Like you frightening her mother out of her wits? At least, if I am to believe you, that’s what you did. One thing leads to another. Where’ll it end, Kevin?’
‘When one side admits defeat.’ He stood up. ‘And that side won’t be ours.’
‘You never give in, do you?’
‘Why should I? This is a matter of principle. We’re defending our religion. Brede.’
Brede sighed. ‘Maybe that’s just the excuse. You don’t have to go round writing on Protestant walls to be a good Catholic’
‘You’re a pacifist, that’s what.’ He went inside.
‘It’s not a dirty word, is it?’ she called after him.
She cooked the children’s breakfast with the back door open on to the yard. The two youngest were playing with an old rubber tyre, sitting in the middle of it pretending it was a boat. ‘You’ll make a grand little mother,’ her own mother often said to her. Standing here in the kitchen now, she wondered if that was what she wanted: to carry on as her mother did. She wanted something more. She wanted to work first, meet some more people. And when she did marry she didn’t want to live in a terraced house like this with only a little yard for the children and no green grass. She’d like to live in the country like Aunt Rose and when she cooked the breakfast on a summer’s morning she could look through the open doorway at the flowers and maybe one or two chickens running around… Kevin was not as fond of the country as she was, preferring the streets to roam in. He liked excitement. And that too often meant trouble.
After breakfast she tidied the kitchen and made the beds, moving quietly so that she would not waken Kevin. He slept the sleep of the exhausted, one arm flung above his head, his legs sprawled slackly amongst the sheets.
Kate came by and she and Brede sat on the step in the sun. Brede told her what had happened during the night and Kate was disappointed to have missed it.
‘You’re lucky to have a brother like Kevin,’ she sighed. ‘There’s always something going on when he’s around.’
‘Too much. But he’s sleeping now, thank goodness. We can get a bit of peace.’
The sun was warm and pleasant. Brede kept thinking she should go to the shop for some bleach but she felt lazy this morning. The small children played up and down, the older boys were in their beds sleeping off the night’s doings. Brede yawned. She wondered what the girl was doing.
Chapter Eleven
The Tenth Day of July
T
he date was the first thing Mr Jackson was conscious of when he awoke. Two days to the ‘Twelfth’. Then he remembered that the calendar on the back of the kitchen door had been burnt, along with everything else. At the thought of the mess waiting down below he sighed. The ‘Twelfth’ was going to be a wee bit spoiled by that.
The Jacksons rose late after their late night. Mrs Jackson declared she hadn’t slept a wink. Every time she had closed her eyes she had seen the dark menacing figure, and heard his screech. She would have to go to the doctor’s to get some pills. And there was her kitchen burnt to a frazzle. She couldn’t even get the breakfast. Some holiday this was turning out to be!
Mr Jackson left her grumbling in the bedroom and went downstairs. He pumped up Tommy’s primus stove and set it on a tray in the front parlour. Mrs Jackson, with a good deal more grumbling, cooked the breakfast on the hissing blue flame.
‘The curtains smell and the chair covers…’
They only sat in the parlour on special occasions.
‘I’ll open the window when you’re done,’ said Mr Jackson. ‘That’ll air the place out.’
‘Sure the window’s been stuck solid for years.’
‘I’ll take a knife to it.’
Mrs Jackson went to the foot of the stairs and called: ‘Sadie! Tommy! Up!’
Tommy rolled out of bed and sat for a moment on the floor in a patch of sunlight. The smell from below was good. He dressed quickly.
There was no sound from Sadie’s room. He opened the door and said: ‘Get up, lazybones!’ He was about to go when he realized that the bedclothes looked odd. He pulled them back and saw the bundle of clothes that she had put there. He went downstairs.
‘Where’s Sadie?’ asked his mother.
‘She must have gone out.’
‘Gone out?’
‘It’s gone ten, Aggie,’ said Mr. Jackson. ‘She was never one to lie in her bed.’
‘She’s got no consideration that girl,’ said Mrs Jackson. ‘She just does what she pleases. I suppose she’ll come back when she’s hungry.’
‘It’s a wonder you didn’t hear her go,’ said Mr Jackson, ‘if you were awake all night.’
His wife gave him one of her ‘looks’ which suggested that what he had said was not worth replying to.
‘You can carry the dishes over to Mrs Mullet’s for me, Tommy,’ she said. ‘As if I didn’t have enough to do without trailing over there to wash my pots and pans…’
Tommy carried the dishes over in a basin. Linda was sitting in the kitchen looking mournful whilst her mother tripped about on her spiky high heels. Mrs Mullet had a cigarette in the corner of her mouth.
‘Morning, Tommy,’ she said without removing her cigarette. It fascinated Tommy to watch her talking with a cigarette in her mouth. He wondered that she did not choke.
‘Morning, Tommy,’ said Linda, brightening when she saw Tommy. She sat up straight and smoothed her hair back behind her ears.
Tommy stood with the basin between his hands.
‘Put it down, son,’ said Mrs Mullet. ‘Are you going to wash them for your mother? Wouldn’t do you any harm.’
‘I’ll dry for you,’ offered Linda.
Mrs Mullet left them to it. Soon they heard her heels tapping overhead.
Tommy hated washing dishes. Cars yes, dishes no. He grimaced at the basin.
‘I’ll wash,’ said Linda. ‘You dry.’
He stood by the draining board with a tea towel in his hand.
‘What was up with you when I came in?’ he asked.
‘Mum wants to send me to my auntie’s in Lurgan and I don’t want to go. My aunt’s deadly. Won’t let me do anything. Besides –’ Linda looked sideways at Tommy ‘– I’d miss my friends.’
Tommy took the first soapy dish and dried it carefully, mindful that it would not improve his mother’s temper if he broke half of her dishes as well.
‘Tell your mother that then.’
‘She’s not bothered if I miss my friends. In fact, I think that’s why she wants me to go.’ Linda looked sideways again. ‘She thinks you’re all a bad influence on me.’
‘Does she now?’ The idea did not trouble Tommy. He wished Linda would hurry up and get on with the dishes so that he could get outside again.
‘It’s your Sadie especially. Mum says she’ll end up in trouble and she doesn’t want me with her.’
‘That reminds me. Have you seen Sadie this morning?’
‘I haven’t been out of the house.’
When the dishes were washed and dried, Tommy carried them back in the basin. His mother examined them, holding up the cups to see if he’d got rid of all the sugar at the bottom. ‘Hm. You’ve not made a bad job.’
‘Not even a chip out of them, ma.’
‘There’d better not be!’
Linda was waiting for him outside. Together they walked up to Steve’s house and found him polishing his family’s shoes in the backyard.
‘You’re busy,’ said Linda.
‘I’m working. What have you two been up to?’
‘Washing the dishes for Tommy’s mother. But she never gave us nothing for it.’
‘She’s still sore at the fire,’ said Tommy.
‘Give us a hand with these shoes then, Tom.’
The two boys squatted on the ground and polished the shoes until they shone. Linda sat on the step and examined her nails. She yawned.
‘Don’t take all day. There’s other things to do.’
‘Oh, me da found an old banner last night,’ said Steve. ‘It’s purple and gold and got “This We Will Maintain” written on it.’
‘That’s a real nice slogan I always think,’ said Linda. ‘We’ll put it up at the top of the street. It was just what we were needing.’
They took the banner and strung it up. It looked a bit crumpled but Linda said the creases would soon fall out in the air.
‘Is it straight?’ asked Steve.
‘It’ll do.’ said Tommy. ‘Let’s take a walk. I want to stretch my legs.’
They walked along the main road. Linda walked at the inside next to the shop windows; Tommy and Steve walked together, a little apart from her.
When they reached the street that adjoined the Catholic area, they stopped.
‘Wonder where Sadie is,’ said Tommy. He stared across the street.
‘You don’t think she could be over there?’ asked Steve.
‘Knowing Sadie…’ Tommy shrugged. ‘She could be anywhere. I’m going to buy some gum.’
He went into the confectioner’s and bought a packet of chewing gum.
‘Seen our Sadie this morning?’ he asked.
The woman thought for a moment. ‘Can’t say I have. No, she’s not been in.’
Tommy, Steve and Linda ambled back home through the side streets, their jaws chewing rhythmically. They glanced up every street. Tommy nipped into Mrs McConkey’s to ask if she’d seen Sadie but no, she hadn’t either. Nor had any of the children they asked. And everyone knew Sadie.
‘Funny,’ said Tommy.
‘She might be home by now,’ said Steve.
They came to the Jacksons’ house.
‘See you after dinner,’ said Linda.
Tommy went inside. His father was still sitting in his braces in the front parlour. He was reading the paper.
‘Your ma’s bringing the dinner over from Mrs Mullet’s now.’
Mrs Jackson came in with a steaming pot of stew.
‘What a life!’ she said. ‘Come on then, Tommy, give us a hand. Hold the plates for me.’
‘It’s like the war,’ said Mr Jackson. ‘After the blitz we had to cook on the fire. I can remember me mother on her knees on the hearth rug.’ He shook his head. ‘Seems like only yesterday.’
‘Where’s Sadie?’ asked Mrs Jackson, looking round as if she might be hiding in the corner.
‘I don’t know,’ said Tommy.
‘What do you mean you don’t know?’
‘I haven’t seen her
.’
Mrs Jackson grumbled about not being able to keep Sadie’s dinner hot. Tommy ate his, even though he was not hungry. He ate with a frown.
‘Where is that girl?’ Mrs Jackson demanded again as she dished out the pudding.
‘I think I’ll go and look for her,’ said Tommy. ‘I’ll have my pudding later.’
He collected Linda and Steve.
‘We’ll comb the streets. Ask anyone you see.’
They divided the area up between them, giving Linda the smallest portion. Tommy went thoroughly over his bit, stopping at every builder’s yard, every warehouse. He searched all the places where he and Sadie had often played. Not a trace of her anywhere.
Returning to the street, he saw Linda and Steve waiting for him with no Sadie. They shook their heads.
‘She can’t have disappeared,’ said Tommy desperately.
‘Maybe she went off with a strange man in a car,’ said Linda, her eyes large and round.
‘Don’t talk daft. Sadie’s no fool. She’d never go into a strange man’s car,’
‘No,’ said Steve.’But we know where she would go.’
‘Aye,’ said Tommy.
They sat on the kerb and stared at their feet.
‘There’s nothing else for it,’ said Steve. ‘We’ll have to go over there.’
‘You stay here, Linda,’ said Tommy.
Linda pouted.
‘You don’t want to get hurt, do you?’ asked Steve.
She walked with them to the street where the two areas met.
‘If you’re not back by dark I’ll send out a search party,’ she called after them.
They strolled nonchalantly across the road, dodging a bus. making the driver hoot at them. The streets ahead looked quiet.
They passed two small children playing with an old pram, a woman carrying a baby, an old man sitting in his doorway. None of them showed any interest in the two boys.
‘They must all be sleeping round here,’ said Steve.
On the corner of the next street two boys of their own age were lounging. All four stared at one another, then the strangers passed on. When they looked back they saw that the other two had gone.