1972 (38 page)
Authors: Morgan Llywelyn
The man snorted. “Whole lot of good that'll do you.”
Barry continued taking pictures, though he did not go as far as the Shankill Road.
Not without a gun
. When his brain fogged with weariness he went back to Apollo. As he drove away from the area he saw a slogan freshly daubed in white paint on a fireblackened wall: I.R.A. MEANS I RAN AWAY.
Not without a gun
. When his brain fogged with weariness he went back to Apollo. As he drove away from the area he saw a slogan freshly daubed in white paint on a fireblackened wall: I.R.A. MEANS I RAN AWAY.
Barry's heart sank.
They think we failed them.
They think we failed them.
The Belfast IRA was far too small in numbers to have been any help, but the victims of violence did not see it that way. In Belfast in 1969 everything was black-and-whiteâlike the images on the television screens.
Barry checked in to a hotel near the centre of the city and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He finally staggered out of bed at teatime. After a cold shower and a stiff drink in the hotel bar, he headed back toward West Belfast. At the Felons'
Club the door was padlocked and the windows were fastened with shutters, yet he could hear activity inside. When he knocked at the door everything went very quiet. After a while he walked away.
Club the door was padlocked and the windows were fastened with shutters, yet he could hear activity inside. When he knocked at the door everything went very quiet. After a while he walked away.
I
N Dublin on August sixteenth, gardai used a baton charge to break up an anti-British demonstration outside the British embassy. Fifty protesters were injured.
5
N Dublin on August sixteenth, gardai used a baton charge to break up an anti-British demonstration outside the British embassy. Fifty protesters were injured.
5
In Belfast, 427 people were being treated in hospital for serious injuries. Of that number, 108 had gunshot wounds.
6
The Falls, Crumlin Road, the Ardoyneâevery Catholic area had suffered.
6
The Falls, Crumlin Road, the Ardoyneâevery Catholic area had suffered.
B
ARRY spent two days in Belfast, compiling a photographic essay of a city in shock. He was not allowed to take any more photographs in Bombay Street. When he tried to enter the area he was stopped by British soldiers who firmly informed him, “No pictures for security reasons.”
ARRY spent two days in Belfast, compiling a photographic essay of a city in shock. He was not allowed to take any more photographs in Bombay Street. When he tried to enter the area he was stopped by British soldiers who firmly informed him, “No pictures for security reasons.”
Whose security?
Barry wondered.
Barry wondered.
T
HERE had been a time when entering the republican movement in the north depended mainly on family tradition. Young men followed their fathers. After Bombay Street, men from seventeen to seventy thronged to the IRA. “We've got to get back at the Oranges!” became a rallying cry. Television images of nationalists being attacked with batons by the RUC became commonplace, along with rolls of barbed wire and lines of grim-faced troops upholding the rule of law.
HERE had been a time when entering the republican movement in the north depended mainly on family tradition. Young men followed their fathers. After Bombay Street, men from seventeen to seventy thronged to the IRA. “We've got to get back at the Oranges!” became a rallying cry. Television images of nationalists being attacked with batons by the RUC became commonplace, along with rolls of barbed wire and lines of grim-faced troops upholding the rule of law.
In Dublin three government ministers visited the Department of Foreign Affairs to ask for rifles to protect Catholics in the north. Their request was refused.
W
HEN Barry returned to Derry, May Coogan told him that McCoy was complaining about the food.
HEN Barry returned to Derry, May Coogan told him that McCoy was complaining about the food.
“He must be feeling better, then.”
“Strong enough to give out to me because I won't put the radio in his room.”
“He knows nothing about the riots in Belfast?”
“We've kept all that from him. He keeps asking Father what's happening outside, but Father's good at evading questions he doesn't want to answer. He talks to your friend about God instead.”
Barry laughed. “That'll do him a power of good.”
Although McCoy was beginning to regain some vision, his cough was no better. Barry congratulated him on the improvement to his eyes and said nothing about the cough. “When Terry gives me the okay I'm going to take you to Dublin with me.”
“I thought we were going back to Belfast. You said I could drive.”
“There's no way you're going to drive my car until your eyes are clear, Séamus. I have to go back to Dublin to develop the photographs we took, so you might as well go with me. You're not in fit shape yet for anything else.”
“I'm as fit as I ever was!”
“That's as may be, but I'd like to have you with me for a few days, just the same. You gave me a bit of a scare, you know.”
To Barry's surprise, McCoy acquiesced with no further protest.
He must really feel bad
, Barry thought. The night before they left Derry he placed a telephone call to Dublin. He wanted to let his landlord know that he was bringing a guest with him. Philpott did not like surprises.
He must really feel bad
, Barry thought. The night before they left Derry he placed a telephone call to Dublin. He wanted to let his landlord know that he was bringing a guest with him. Philpott did not like surprises.
It was Barry who got the surprise.
A
s they drove out of Derry the following morning, Barry put his foot down hard on the accelerator and kept it there. McCoy slumped in the passenger seat with his arms folded across his chest. The two men exchanged only a few words. Barry was not
in the mood for conversation, and McCoy was afraid of setting off his cough again. After a few minutes he reached over and turned on the radio. He fiddled with the dial until he found a country-western programme. “Now that's my idea of music,” McCoy said happily. He settled back in his seat and dozed off. When he began snore, Barry retuned to a BBC station that played light classical music.
s they drove out of Derry the following morning, Barry put his foot down hard on the accelerator and kept it there. McCoy slumped in the passenger seat with his arms folded across his chest. The two men exchanged only a few words. Barry was not
in the mood for conversation, and McCoy was afraid of setting off his cough again. After a few minutes he reached over and turned on the radio. He fiddled with the dial until he found a country-western programme. “Now that's my idea of music,” McCoy said happily. He settled back in his seat and dozed off. When he began snore, Barry retuned to a BBC station that played light classical music.
Alone with his thoughts, he drove south and east. Watching the road with eyes that saw other scenes. When the music eventually gave way to a newscast, he did not notice.
P
HILPOTT had answered his phone call on the second ring. Before Barry could say more than hello, his landlord had launched into a tirade. “I won't have this, Mr. Halloran, I simply won't stand for it! You have to come home immediately and sort out your American woman.”
HILPOTT had answered his phone call on the second ring. Before Barry could say more than hello, his landlord had launched into a tirade. “I won't have this, Mr. Halloran, I simply won't stand for it! You have to come home immediately and sort out your American woman.”
It can't be!
“What American woman?”
“What American woman?”
“Miss Kavanagh. She says she's a friend of yours and has no place to stay. She arrived this afternoon, obviously expecting you would take care of her. I could hardly put her out on the street, but come back now and deal with this, or I'll put the both of you out.”
A
POLLO sped along the straight and hurtled around the curves.
What makes Barbara think she has the right ⦠? I never gave her the slightest indication that I ⦠Damn the woman anyway. Thrusting herself into my life when it's complicated enough already.
POLLO sped along the straight and hurtled around the curves.
What makes Barbara think she has the right ⦠? I never gave her the slightest indication that I ⦠Damn the woman anyway. Thrusting herself into my life when it's complicated enough already.
I wonder if she's all right. Maybe she's ill. Or maybe that bastard hurt her some way ⦠.
Suddenly McCoy sat up. “What the hell happened in Belfast?”
T
HE long days of Irish summer meant that the light lingered until they reached Dublin. As they drove through the outskirts Barry asked McCoy if he was tired.
HE long days of Irish summer meant that the light lingered until they reached Dublin. As they drove through the outskirts Barry asked McCoy if he was tired.
“Not a bit of it,” the other man asserted. “I'm so damned mad that I could walk all the way to Belfast with a full pack on my back. And a loaded rifle.”
The red sports car pulled up in front of Philpott's house with a squeal of brakes. A smell of steam came from under the bonnet. McCoy said, “Your car's overheated.”
“So am I,” Barry replied through gritted teeth. “Wait here in the car, will you? I need to have a little private conversation before I take you inside.”
“Listen, if I'm going to be any trouble ⦔
“Don't talk like that, Séamus. I'll be back in just a minute, all right?”
Barry stormed into the house, taking care to slam the door behind him. He wanted everyone to know that he was furious.
Barbara was sitting in the front parlour with his landlord. She looked bored; Philpott wore the expression of an unwilling martyr. “It's about time, Mr. Halloran,” he said petulantly. “You can't expect me to entertain your guests.”
“She's not my guest. I didn't invite her and I don't know why she's here.”
Barbara snapped, “Don't talk about me as if I'm not even in the room!”
“You shouldn't be in the room,” Barry retorted, struggling to hold on to the shreds of his temper. “You should be in London or Manchester or wherever the hell else, and I should be in the north taking photographs. Now tell me what this is all about before I throw you out myself.”
Her defiant expression faded. She looked so abject that Barry would have pitied her if he had had any room left for pity amongst his tangled emotions. “I've lost my job,” she said in a barely audible voice.
“Then why not go home? Why come to me?”
“I didn't have enough money for a ticket to America. I barely had enough to get here.”
“Jesus Christ, Barbara! The first time I saw you I knew you were trouble, and nothing's changed.”
“Everything's changed. Please, can't we talk in private?”
Philpott stood up and brushed imaginary wrinkles from his trousers. “I'll be in the kitchen, there's still washing up to do. But I'm not preparing any more meals tonight, Mr. Halloran,” he warned. “If you want something to eat you'll have to go out for it or fix it yourself.”
Deliberately turning his back on Barbara, Barry walked over
to the window. He could see Apollo parked at the kerb. Underneath its coating of road dust, the car gleamed dull red.
Blood-coloured. I should paint it blue. Or green. Definitely, green.
to the window. He could see Apollo parked at the kerb. Underneath its coating of road dust, the car gleamed dull red.
Blood-coloured. I should paint it blue. Or green. Definitely, green.
Barbara came to stand beside him. “Is that your car, Barry? It's very smart.”
Smart indeed. It's a battered banger held together with spit and wire. She's trying to get on my good side.
“Who's that sitting in it?”
“A friend,” Barry said tightly, unwilling to give her anything.
“I came to you because I thought we were friends.”
He would not look at her. “Even if we are, that doesn't give you the right to disrupt my life without a word of warning.”
“I know, and I'm sorry, but ⦠oh, Barry, everything went wrong at once! The bookings dried up and Jeremy ran off with the piano player and then I found out they'd taken all the money with them.”
“You sound as if it were the greatest tragedy in the world. It isn't, I assure you.”
She gave a little sigh. “I know. It's just the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
“Lucky you, then.” He tried to stay angry with her, but she was standing so close that he could feel the heat of her body. “Well, now that you're here ⦔
“You'll help me?”
“Stop anticipating. I was going to say, now that you're here we'll have to decide what's to be done with you. But not tonight.”
“You can't put me out on the sidewalk!”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“Mr. Philpott let me use your room since you weren't in it anyway.”
“Well you can't stay there now. D'you want to go to a hotel?”
“I told you, I don't have any money.”
If I pay for a hotel room
, Barry warned himself,
I'll be making a commitment.
, Barry warned himself,
I'll be making a commitment.
He found Philpott sulking in his own apartment. “I don't want women here, Halloran. I've never wanted women here. They disrupt everything.”
I couldn't agree more
. “I'm sorry about Miss Kavanagh, but she came without my knowledge or permission.”
. “I'm sorry about Miss Kavanagh, but she came without my knowledge or permission.”
“So you say.”
Barry's eyes turned icy. “So I say. Now, however, she is here, and so is a friend of mine whom I did invite. You and I have some arrangements to make.” The final sentence was spoken in low growl that was curiously unnerving.
W
ITHIN the hour Séamus McCoy was tucked into bed in Barry's room, and a separate folding bed had been brought in for Barry so that he would not disturb the sick man. McCoy protested over being treated like an invalid.
ITHIN the hour Séamus McCoy was tucked into bed in Barry's room, and a separate folding bed had been brought in for Barry so that he would not disturb the sick man. McCoy protested over being treated like an invalid.
“It's only for a few days,” Barry had told Philpott privately. “He'll go into hospital as soon as they can take him.”
The landlord looked alarmed.
“He's not contagious,” Barry hastened to add. “He has a tumour in his chest.” He resurrected one of his old, irresistible smiles. “I'm grateful to you for being so kind to a sick man.” It was a cynical ploy but it worked. Philpott simpered with pleasure, then said that McCoy could stay as long as he needed.
Barbara was more problematic. At first Philpott was adamant that he would not admit any women to his boardinghouse. “Think of it as an opportunity for you,” Barry suggested. “Could you not use some help here? Miss Kavanagh is a strong, healthy woman. She could take a lot of work off your hands, and in return all you need do is give her room and board. Her room needn't be anything fancy, either. I don't think she's enjoyed much in the way of fancy accommodations lately.”
Although Philpott was tempted, he would not surrender without a token struggle. “I don't think it would work out, Mr. Halloran. She doesn't seem like the sort who does house cleaning.”
“She will be,” Barry said in a determined voice. “After I explain it to her.”
He carried Barbara's luggage to a dingy cubicle at the top of the stairs, the only empty room in the house. There was no furniture aside from an iron bedstead with a musty mattress, and an old wardrobe. The bathroom was on the landing below.
Barry forced open the only window, which had been painted shut, to air out the room. Then he turned the mattress over and
helped Barbara make up the bed. At his insistence Philpott had given her two blankets and a good quilt.
helped Barbara make up the bed. At his insistence Philpott had given her two blankets and a good quilt.
“I think he's afraid of you,” Barbara told Barry, “though I don't know why. You're really so harmless.”
Barry was nonplussed. No one had ever called him harmless before.
While she unpacked he sat on the edge of the bed and watched. The contents of her luggageâthe expensive matched set he remembered, badly scuffed and battered nowâwere revealing. Her train case was crammed with toiletries and makeup. The larger suitcase contained a tawdry collection of stage costumes made of cheap, shiny fabric and stained with perspiration. The smaller one held a few very short skirts, several brightly coloured tops, a froth of underwear, a worn cashmere cardigan, and a white plastic jacket with an industrial zipper up the front.
Against his will, Barry was moved to pity. “Don't you have a coat? Autumn can be cold.”
“I did have a good coat, but I had to pawn it to buy a ticket for Ireland. I spent the last of the money on a taxi from the airport.” From the bottom of her suitcase Barbara removed four pairs of shoes, none of them new. For such a tall girl she had very small feet.
Touchingly small.
Barry tore his eyes away. “If there's nothing else you need right now, you'd best go to bed,” he said. “You must be exhausted.” When he stood up, the bed springs creaked. “Good night, Barbara.”
She yawned. “G'night.”
If he had expected her to thank him he was disappointed.
Barry did not get much sleep that night. He was too aware of the tinderbox that was Northern Ireland, ready to explode. And of Séamus McCoy, moaning in his sleep.
And of the young woman in the room at the top of the house.
I don't need this
, Barry said to God. Or whoever was listening.
I really don't need this
.
, Barry said to God. Or whoever was listening.
I really don't need this
.
S
HE came to him in his dreams with her tiger's eyes and her bronze hair. In his dreams, in his dreams.
HE came to him in his dreams with her tiger's eyes and her bronze hair. In his dreams, in his dreams.
He took her in his arms and she fought with all her strength but he was stronger, he did what he wanted with her. What she wanted him to do. In his dreams, in his dreams.
And afterwards she loved him.
A
s usual Barry was awake at dawn. He dressed quietly and left McCoy sleeping.
s usual Barry was awake at dawn. He dressed quietly and left McCoy sleeping.
Barbara had to be forcefully roused. “I'm never up before eleven!”
Barry ripped the covers from her bed. “You're up now. We have to talk.”
As she got out of bed Barry tried not to notice how sheer her nightdress was, or how beautiful she looked without makeup. Her hair all tumbled. He waited while she put on a dressing gown, then explained the arrangement he had made with Philpott.
“Absolutely not!” Barbara actually stamped her foot.
I never saw anyone do that before
. “Under no circumstances! I'm not anyone's housemaid, Barry Halloran, and I'm insulted you would even suggest it.”
I never saw anyone do that before
. “Under no circumstances! I'm not anyone's housemaid, Barry Halloran, and I'm insulted you would even suggest it.”
“It would only be temporary, Barbara.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because everything's temporary. Mr. Philpott could die. Or so could you, for that matter.”
The hazel eyes widened in horror. “I'm not going to die!”
“That,” said Barry dryly, “would make you unique in human history. What I meant was, the job is just until you return to America.”
“You don't seem to understand. I'm not going to the States because I like it better over here. If you try to send me home I'll just come back again.”
“You don't seem to understand. I'm not going to send you home because you're not my responsibility. But if you stay here, what will you do for money? Have you really none at all?”
“Not a bean.” She sounded unconcerned.
“What about your trust fund?”
“I can't touch the principal at all, but I draw the interest on it in June and December. That means I'll be stony broke for the next four months.” She looked at Barry expectantly.
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