Chapter 26: Secrets of the Past
BANG
BANG
Then came the cries and the screams. But they weren't done yet…
BANG
The cries and screams continued…
BANG
BANG
Then they ceased, and the only noise that could be heard was the breathing of the only one remaining. She was mesmerised but alive. All she could see around her was blood. Blood sprayed up the walls behind the corpses of her friends and family, trickling into neat pools, nestling in every crevice in the floor. For whatever reason, they hadn't shot her. She looked up into the eyes of the shooter, recognising them immediately, causing her face to fall into total horror. Perhaps they all should have seen it coming, the signs were there, but not to this extent. Not to murder.
And then darkness fell for her…
"Christ that was nastier than ye said it was going to be Gerry". Mary moaned as the screen went black at the cinema.
"I didn't know that girl was going to kill all of her friends and family… I didn't write it". He attempted a weak defence.
"Well…". Mary concluded as she got up to put her coat on. "… next time we have a film night… I'm pickin' the film".
Gerry sighed as his latest attempt to spend some quality time with his wife fell by the wayside. Granted, this time he'd spent the time, but with Mary's complaints about the film, he'd missed out on the quality element. Although Joe hadn't tried to disrupt the plans, despite his vocal disgruntlement with them, so he could cling on to some form of success. Even if it was modest.
Walking out to the car, the temperature had dipped significantly in the time they were inside, and being the gentleman he was, Gerry put his coat around Mary's shoulders. After all the years of being together, he'd never lost his loving touch and she'd never stopped enjoying it either.
"Ye know, I reckon James would do that for our Erin". She smiled as she thought of the two.
"Aye I agree…". Gerry's smile was as wide as hers.
"He's a such a good, brave lad. Erin could have done much worse than him".
"Like mother like daughter when it comes to that".
Gerry's amusing comment earned him a playful smack on the arm from Mary as they walked along towards the car. It certainly was a good idea Joe wasn't with them; he wouldn't have agreed with Gerry…
"Hopefully Anna will be asleep when we get there". Gerry aired his thoughts to his wife.
Mary snorted in return to his comment.
"Not if Michelle has anything to do about it".
He couldn't exactly argue that point with her, Michelle wasn't really suited to babysitting duties, something they'd discovered in the past. Albeit, if Mary caught Michelle making a comment about Anna's appearance, the wooden spoon would have its finest hour.
"Ye know, I was thinkin'…". Mary linked her arm with her husband. "… we might have more nights like this… just the two of us out".
"I'd like that". Gerry's eyes were full of love as he cast them over his wife.
"And ye've seen how good James is with Anna".
"He's a natural Mary… Christ he's better than I was… remember the first months with Erin!"
Mary almost howled with laughter as she remembered the nervous Gerry of years before, dancing around Erin like she was a bomb, scared to touch her in case she went off. There were still moments like that with his daughter, she was certainly cast in the same mould as her mother in that regard, but the first few months after she was born were terrifying for him. James already seemed to be beyond that stage.
"And Orla's goin' to be busy with all this horse ridin' and da will want to be watchin' her… Sarah too…".
"So we'll need a babysitter?" Gerry knew where it was going, and he wholeheartedly approved.
"Of course, it would mean the two of the alone once Anna had settled…".
"I'm sure they wouldn't do anything we wouldn't".
The married couple chuckled into the night as they got into the car, amused by the thoughts of exactly what they'd have done at that age themselves…
The door flying open sent Clare jumping out of her skin, leaping straight up from the chair that she was sat on. It startled the others too, except the sleeping Anna, though none of them could match the ferocity of the cack attack Clare produced.
Looking up to see who it was, they were all surprised to find the same Inspector and Constable that had visited James the week before. As far as they were aware, the case was closed when it came to James's attack. With his inability to remember any further details of what happened that night, and almost a week later he still couldn't think of anything, there was nothing for the cops to go on. The chance of someone's conscience changing, and them coming forward as a witness, was very remote.
"Mr Maguire. I see you've got quite the crowd". The Inspector addressed him.
"What can I do for you Inspector?" He asked calmly, but inquisitively.
"I was hoping for a word alone, if that's alright with you".
James didn't have a problem with it, but he knew there was no hope of getting Erin to leave his side. Not that he particularly wanted her to leave his side, in fact if anything he wished that the Inspector might relent and let her stay.
"Who's the wain?" The Constable asked, pointing at Anna on James's shoulder.
"That's me sister…". Erin answered. "And yer gunna wake her up…".
"Why don't I take the rest of you's down to the wee shop". The Constable addressed the girls.
Erin looked to James, almost looking for permission to leave his side, but neither wished to part. His eyes told her to stay where she was, and her eyes told him that she held no intention of going down to the shop with the Constable.
"Perhaps Miss Quinn can stay".
The Inspector, being a detective, was never going to miss the looks between the young lovers, seeing that they would not be parted so easily. It wouldn't be a violation of his duty if she were present as well; for as long as she was at James's side then it would apply to her too.
"Orla, can ye take Anna?" Erin asked her cousin.
Nodding enthusiastically, Orla rose from her seat and walked over to the bed to retrieve little Anna from James's shoulder. To her credit, Anna didn't wake or cry, staying fast asleep as she moved into the grasp of her older cousin. Michelle and Clare, the former giving the cops a foul look, exited the room with the Constable, holding the door open for Orla and Anna to follow suit. Unnerved by the presence of the Inspector, Erin shifted right up next to James, finding his right arm around her shoulders and his left hand coming to meet hers. The Inspector pulled up one of the chairs that the girls used and sat on James's side of the bed, giving him an expressionless look.
"How's yer recovery going?"
"Quite well thanks. I'm being released on Friday". James replied to him.
"Right". The man said, still giving little away. "That does form part of what I need to talk to ye about".
The couple both frowned at the Inspector. Erin's fears, beginning a slow rise, took over her body and she instinctively squeezed James's hand.
"We've arrested a couple of young men this afternoon…".
"The Scanlons?" Erin interrupted him.
"Ach so ye've heard already. Gossip does travel fast in Derry…". He quipped, without losing any of his authoritative demeanour. "… there was something of interest to us when we searched the property… in relation to yerself Mr Maguire".
"What do you mean?" The Englishman's frown remained.
"We discovered some plans of the Hospital at their address, along with a assortment of various firearms".
"The plans stolen from the Guildhall?" Erin enquired.
"Our suspicion is that they were indeed Miss Quinn".
Erin's worries continued to gain momentum, finding herself moving even further into James side, his arm wrapping around her more tightly in return. Michelle already told her as much earlier in the evening, but with Michelle's history of not always being factually correct, to hear it confirmed by the Inspector was troubling.
"I'm confused…". James admitted. "… what's this got to do with me?"
"There was a room on the plans for the building that was highlighted in particular… marked out rather crudely with an x".
The Inspector paused, watching as the minds of the two teenagers in front of him cottoned on to what he was about to say. Their faces were not masks of shock, but of fear.
"This room".
The Scanlon's held the plans to the Altnagelvin and had marked out James's room… that could only mean one thing. The family reputation was so incredibly true as the details rang in his head. If anyone was going to viciously attack an Englishman in the dark alleys of Derry, then it would be a Scanlon. He couldn't find the words to respond, instead looking to Erin, who's eyes betrayed fear with their damp, glassy state.
"Mr Maguire… I need to ask… do ye associate with the Scanlons? Would they have any reason to dislike ye?"
James paused to consider his response. He wasn't aware of having annoyed Danny during the brief time they'd been acquainted, but he could annoy the majority of the city by just opening his mouth, so it wasn't out of the question. The only one of them who could have caused a problem with the Scanlon's was Michelle, though it was Danny who seemed to have caused the issue rather than his cousin.
"I…". He stopped, lifting the hand he locked with Erin up in the air. "… we know one of them. Danny".
The Inspector nodded, making a note of it on his pad.
"And how do ye know him exactly?"
"He was briefly in a… relationship with my cousin".
"Aye, alright… so Miss Mallon and Mr Scanlon were together… for how long exactly?"
That was the most difficult question yet. To quantify the true length of Danny and Michelle's relationship was an equation that even Einstein would struggle with. To define it would require Michelle's side of the story, Danny's side of the story and a degree of judgement that not even a court could hold.
"A… a couple of weeks". Erin answered for him, James nodding his head in agreement. "… but maybe Michelle's the better one to ask".
"Alright, no problem… now this development does require me to speak to ye about yer safety again James. I know we spoke at length about it when we came to see ye last week, but the goalposts have changed a fair bit in the last few hours. The evidence is suggesting that there was to be a follow up attack on ye, and we don't know who else could be involved in this…".
"I'm not leaving!" James protested adamantly, Erin's breath catching to his side.
"I am not for one minute suggestin' that ye should, but I also can't allow ye to be left here without being guarded". The Inspector calmly retorted.
"I thought you said that wasn't possible?" James questioned the detective.
"That is no longer a problem. The risk to ye is too severe to not have a twenty four hour guard in place… at least for the time being".
A tear trickled out of the corner of Erin's eye, slowly journeying down the side of her face until it was met by James's thumb. He wiped it away, stroking her cheek as she shivered into him. A guard on the door all the time would be a consistent reminder of the danger that he was in. The danger that Erin wished would just dissipate, leaving the two of them to resume the life they shared together in peace. But in a land where peace was more foreign than many of the nationalities that may reside in it, it would forever remain a pretty dream.
"Is there a risk to Erin?" James then asked the Inspector.
She tensed up, a squeaking sound reminiscent of Clare escaping her lips, but James reacted quickly to lean down and kiss the top of her head in order to calm her. He wasn't trying to frighten her. He had to know if her life was in danger too.
"Well… as long as ye stay together… aye. But from other evidence we found at the house, I think it is only yerself they intended to harm James".
"What evidence!?" A furious Erin demanded to know.
"I can't give ye all the details Miss Quinn… let's just say there was material of an anti-English sentiment at the property".
Once again it was the flag on James's passport that was causing the problem. The small-minded Scanlon's couldn't see past it, to the beautiful, kind young man that Erin gave her heart too. She was infuriated that they could be so cruel, wanting to do harm to him just because he was born over the other side of the sea. But before she could voice what she wanted, the door opened once more to reveal Mary and Gerry, with the girls and the Constable behind them.
The fucking cops.
The meddling arseholes from the RUC saved the Englishman.
They were so close to reaching his room… from putting an end to the stain on Derry's landscape that was James Maguire. In their haste to remember their own route to the room, they'd forgotten about the other entrance on the corridor. The same route the cops decided to take that night, beating them by only a few seconds. There was no way they could finish him off with cops swirling about… they'd never get out alive. The fuckers had taken Danny and Brian out of the picture earlier in the day too. Everything was falling apart…
Getting out of the Hospital as quickly as they possibly could, the first thing they could think of was to go to the cabin. Their mentor would no doubt be there… he always seemed to be. A point they were proven correct about when they could see that the light was on. Walking in, the mentor darted round at the presence of someone else in the cabin, holding a pistol up to them before the mentor recognised them.
"You… what the fuck are ye doin' here!" The mentor shouted as he lowered the gun.
"Why do ye think!" They shouted back.
"I TOLD YOU!" The mentor's shout went up further notches. "I told ye all to leave that English fella and look what ye've done!"
"HE HAS TO DIE!"
"NO! No, he doesn't have to die! Soldiers at the barracks… they have to die… but this fucker isn't important enough!"
"HE IS TO ME!"
"And he was to Danny… and to Brian… look where they are now!"
They paused a moment as a thick layer of tension set around the room. The mentor just didn't understand the importance of James's death… and what it would mean to them. Danny and Brian meant a lot to them too, but their significance fell behind the need to eliminate James.
"Ye better hope neither of them two talk…" The mentor started off again.
"They won't!" His last remaining student replied.
"They might… and we're both fucked if that happens".
"Both?"
"Have ye forgotten the door? They can trace me from that should either two of them talk".
"Ye think they'd just betray our cause like that?!" The student questioned angrily.
"Our cause? Ye care more about this English fella than the cause!"
"Killin' him is part of it! Why can't ye see that!?"
There was another silence as the two watched each other suspiciously. The prior level of trust had gone when the mentor learned of the arrests at the Scanlon house. However, there was still a job to do…
"Forget him. I mean it this time".
"I…".
"I'm tellin ye for the last time! No more personal vendetta's… got it?" The mentor gave them a last chance.
"Fine". They replied.
"Friday night is still on… but we can't meet here".
"Why not?"
"Because if they have said anything, they will come straight here. I have somewhere else we can meet though".
The mentor picked up a map of Derry, laying it out on the table between them. He pointed to a spot on it for them to go to.
"What about the plan now?" The student asked.
"Let me worry about that. Lay low tomorrow and meet me there on Wednesday night. And don't fuckin' touch that Englishman!"
They nodded to accept the terms given by their mentor. He was still angry with them, they could tell, and that anger was justified to a point. Even if by some miracle Danny and Brian were released from Police custody, they'd still be watched for a time afterwards. The plan for the attack on the barracks was thrown into disarray by their arrest. There would be no one rushing in to finish the soldiers off now, leaving the possibility of them being gunned down before they could get away from it.
Whilst they may have given their word not to go after James, they were far too far down that road to turn back.
No… James Maguire still had to die.
It was eleven o'clock by the time that the Police had finished, and Mary and Gerry took Anna home for the night. Martin arrived to add to the party shortly after Mary and Gerry, taking Michelle and Clare away once the Inspector finished speaking with them. Erin only left James's side to get changed and go to the loo, an experience now completed with a guard directly in front of the door. A constant reminder that James was unsafe. She was still completely livid that the Scanlon's would dare to take her wee English fella away from her.
"Bastards". She muttered to herself, tucked into his side.
"Erin…".
"What James!? That's what they are!"
He sighed deeply, continuing to stroke her arm with the hand of the arm around her shoulders. As much as his emotions were screaming at him, it was hers that he was most concerned about.
"I'm always going to have enemies with my accent".
"It shouldn't be that way!" She complained. "Why can't people look past that!?"
"Erin please. Don't get upset about it, I just have to learn to deal with it…".
"Don't get upset!" She wrestled away from his grasp to sit up and look him in the eye, snarling. "They had guns James! Guns! What if they'd have got in here… they'd have killed ye!"
Though the cops couldn't confirm to them that they were truly planning to kill James, the manner in which the weapons and plans were found at least suggested it. Getting the Scanlon's to talk would be another matter; they weren't known for being weak when it came to the RUC.
"But they didn't, did they?" He spoke softly, trying to get her to nestle back into his side.
"That's not the point!" Erin continued to argue.
"Erin… I'm not willing to live on 'what if's'. What's done is done, they can't hurt me now… and I have you by my side. That's what I want to live my life by… you".
He watched as she finally relaxed, pulling her in for a kiss as it felt right to do so. She latched onto him like she'd almost been starved of him, snogging him with such a ferocious passion, that when they finally surfaced for air, they were both panting as if they'd ran a marathon. She stayed with her head lying on his chest, his right hand running up the curve of her spine, whilst his left cupped her cheek.
"I just… I love ye too much to… lose ye". Erin's voice crackled as tears threatened to fall.
"I'm not going anywhere…". He smiled, looking into her eyes as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "… not when the love of my life curls up to me at night and kisses me in the day. No, I belong here".
The two of them soon resumed eating the faces of off each other, uninterested in the thought of sleeping despite it being late. Erin would no doubt wake up and still be tired in the morning, but she couldn't care less if it meant she got to enjoy special moments with James. The guard on the door outside would probably be laughing away to themselves on hearing the two youngsters professing their feelings and kissing each other without a care in the world. But they couldn't care either, because in the room that night it was just James Maguire and Erin Quinn showing each other the depths of their love.
"Can I ask you something?" He said once they'd decided to settle to sleep.
"Go on…". She hummed into his chest.
"Earlier… when you said you think I'd make a good daddy… did you mean it?"
She reared up in the same way she'd done before at his question, the Englishman internally chastising himself within the blink of an eye for asking such a stupid question. He hoped he would himself and hearing Erin say it was music to his ears. Why the hell would I think she didn't mean it…
"Wise up James. Ye know… yer so good with Anna so ye are. She just falls asleep on ye as if ye were her bed. And ye always seem to know when she needs a big hug".
James was kissing Erin again a second later, muttering a thank you as he leant in, before becoming lost in the beauty of his beloved once more. His hand began to run down her body, Erin shivering from the intense pleasure that the contact from just the tips of his fingers on her skin caused. He stopped around her stomach, leaving his palm open flat as he lifted her head up to him with his other hand.
"And when our child grows in here…". He proceeded to rub her belly, pulling giggles from her. "… they'll have the best mammy in the world".
Sarah's decision to take the day off work quickly appeared to have been the correct one, even if it was spontaneous. Her da was in a good mood that morning, mostly due to the fact Gerry didn't sleep well and he revelled in the headache his son-in law woke with. All over breakfast he made sure to speak just a little bit louder, place his mug down on the table a little harder and screeched the chair legs in the dining room a lot more purposefully. The entertainment soon came to an end though. Gerry skulked off to work a short while later, with Mary soon following, leaving Sarah and Joe to talk whilst Anna entertained herself.
"There's a reporter comin' this afternoon da".
"Another? Christ, they really are relentless". Joe huffed.
"Ach well, I'd agree with ye, but the press are ravin' about our Orla and I'm enjoyin' it, so I am".
"It's great for Orla love…". Joe agreed. "… but I can't get five minutes peace ye know".
Throughout Monday, whilst the girls were bombarded by the press at school, an equally large amount of media personal gathered at the house. At one point, Joe found himself being spoken to by three reporters from three different continents, with the American reporter asking particularly stupid questions. Not that it surprised Joe of course; the Americans weren't exactly the smartest people that walked the earth. He had become rather fond of the Italian reporters though, as they'd brought wine with them. The wine was for Orla and he'd told them he would ensure she enjoyed a glass, but that was just a fabrication so that he could have a couple of glasses that night for himself.
As Sarah went to continue their conversation, the phone rang out in the hall. He was up on his feet and off to answer it, with Sarah using the break to head over to Anna to see what she was doing to entertain herself.
"Joe McCool".
"Hello Joe, it's Kathy… Kathy Maguire".
"Morning to ye Kathy love. Is everything alright?"
"No… not really".
Joe swallowed slightly harder as he sensed the discomfort from the tone of Kathy's voice. She sounded shaken, far from the usually upbeat and sometimes arrogant tone that she usually carried.
"The Inspector telephoned me first thing this morning. He's… he told me about the arrests that were made and what was… found…". Her voice cracked as she came to a stop.
"Aye, my Mary was tellin' me last night. Those Scanlons boys have always been trouble ye know, doesn't surprise me at all".
"I just… I…".
"Take yer time love". Joe told her softly.
Allowing half a minute of sobbing from Kathy, Joe tried to think about what he could say to calm her down. He wasn't as shaken as she was from the arrests, but he couldn't deny the initial feelings of horror as Mary informed him. It touched raw nerves with Joe when it came to feelings against England. A past that was buried, though never truly forgotten for him. Had he taken a different decision twenty four years earlier, then it could have been him planning for some poor fella's death. James might not be perfect, but he was far superior to most Irish lads, undeserving of the fate that the Scanlon's wanted to see.
"I'm going to come over today… I'm phoning from the airport". She eventually spluttered out.
"What time are ye due in?" Joe replied.
"Around two. I'm going to r-".
"I'll come and pick ye up then. Keep yerself calm there Kathy, Mary said James was alright ye know… he's a tough young man".
Catching the tail end of the conversation from Joe's side, Sarah wandered into the hall with Anna in her arms. Joe was continuing with his attempts to keep Kathy calm whilst she waited for her flight over to Derry.
"Kathy's comin' then da?" She asked as he put the phone down.
"Aye that's right Sarah love. Ye might have to tackle that reporter on yer own this afternoon".
"Ach no problem da. I rec-".
Sarah was interrupted by a knock on the door, which made Joe throw his arms up in the air at the latest distraction that morning. If it wasn't the feckin' phone, it was the feckin' door!
"See! No peace!"
Joe grumbled, turning to his left to go to the door and find out who was pestering them this time. It couldn't' be Colm as he was busy helping clean up the church after the disaster of the previous night's bingo. The premise of the bingo was a sound one, an event to get the church community together, talking and socialising about the better days gone by. In most places that would be perfect, but Derry wasn't most places, and it was a hell of a long way detached from the ideals of perfection. The competitiveness of the elderly ladies could match 'The Thriller in Manilla' and it wasn't long before the evening turned that way too. Two eighty years old ladies tussling on the church floor was a sight to behold, a classic having to be there to believe it. That it then spread to most of the other old men and women was even more unbelievable, with the house of god soon turning into a cage fighting arena for those in the dentures class. The Priest was raging, with an embarrassed Colm offering to return the following morning to help clean the mess up. Who could it be…
Opening the door, there was one person that Joe didn't have on his list, standing before him.
It wasn't Colm.
It wasn't Jim.
It wasn't a reporter.
It wasn't Lord Lucan.
It wasn't the Lord God himself.
No. It was none of those.
It was Antony Scanlon.
The hours tumbled away after the discovery in the shed that Monday afternoon. Neither mother or son could quite believe it when they saw the guns and the stolen plans. Of course, if you'd have asked anyone in Derry where they truly thought either could turn up then the Scanlon's were one of the go-to choices. It could have so easily been Antony himself, with the attitude he held the moment that he walked out of prison nearly two months earlier. But seeing his ma again, and how much pain he'd put upon her being locked up for so long, he had the epiphany he should have had years before. The epiphany he should have had on the fateful day that he became a key component in the story of Orla McCool, the Grand National winning sensation. The daft young troublemaker he had been then didn't see it that way, but the reformed Antony who'd nearly destroyed his mother did. Violence wasn't the answer anymore. He wanted peace.
The boys… didn't.
His reputation being what it was, the cops immediately suspected that he was behind it all. He couldn't blame them for taking that line with him, as it wasn't for them to know of his reformation into the better person he wanted to be, and they were just doing their job. His Maria lawfully gave him an alibi for the night of James's attack, as they'd been cuddling on her sofa as the Englishman had seven bells knocked out of him. As he gave his accounts of that night, having helped the boys pay off their debts to Dennis earlier in the night, he knew they were responsible. The guns might have showed a future plan to get the fella, but it was clear to Antony that they committed the original attack as well. He knew they were fighters like him, they were always in trouble at school for it, yet to the magnitude of what happened to James… he never suspected them at the time. It was all clear now. So clear that he found himself travelling to Sarah's house to try to talk to one of the family… to tell them he was sorry for what his brothers had done. Knowing that Sarah's niece was the partner of the English fella, he knew it would have caused significant grief within their ranks. He just couldn't have them believing that he and his ma would do such a thing.
"Ye better have a damn good reason for being here boy!" Joe snapped.
"Mr McCool... please… I just want to talk".
"TALK?! Ye should be in the cells with the rest of yer lot!"
Antony could just see the slight figure of Sarah in the background, trying to shy away as she held a baby in her arms. Joe was never a man who you could mediate with, instead turning to his backup plan now that she was there.
"Sarah… please…".
"Don't ye address my daughter! Ye've got five seconds before that other eye g-".
"Let him in Da…".
With a voice that trailed off, Sarah visibly shaking, stood her ground with her father. Joe looked at her incredulously, though with his daughter stoic and certain, he found himself having to trust her. His insides were locked in a gargantuan battle of emotion. Scarface Scanlon, who was certainly involved in the attack on James, was stood at his door wanting to talk and seemingly held the backing of his daughter. Could he truly trust him? Was he manipulating Sarah?
They were acquainted after the fateful events of years earlier, an accidental acquaintance rather than one that was sought after. He definitely didn't trust Antony Scanlon then, so why should he now?
Reluctantly, his belief in Sarah won the battle over the inner workings of his mind, and he allowed the man through to the kitchen. A lesser man might have kept a weapon behind the door to wield when an unwelcome visitor such as Antony arrived at the house, but Joe only needed one right hook. His fist was already twitching at the prospect of meeting a hardened Scanlon jaw. There was no drink offered like there would be to any other guest of the house, instead Antony took a seat at the table, with Sarah sat opposite next to little Anna, indicating for Joe to sit at the head. His eyes never left the Scanlon that sat at their dining table. Antony could feel the intensity in Joe's stare… the intensity that Joe had every right to have.
"Ye trust him Sarah?" Joe questioned her first.
"Yes da". She replied honestly.
"Mr McCool…".
"I didn't say ye could speak yet!" Joe rebuked viciously as Antony tried to address him.
"Please Mr McCool!" Antony persisted. "I think it's time we tell him the truth… don't you Sarah?"
She nodded.
Ten years earlier, by the banks of the River Foyle…
The cops couldn't catch Antony Scanlon. When he'd fled from them after finding him in possession of drugs, he was always confident that he would get away. Even when the stolen car was totalled, it still didn't faze him. He was so quick, lightning fast in fact, that none of them stood a chance of catching up to him when he got shifting. For most people running from the cops alongside a river would present a challenge, but not for him. He'd heard them charge past him from his spot in the undergrowth. He was about to leave when he heard a distant branch snap.
"ORLA!"
A woman's shout shot downstream and unwittingly, he was already out by the bank to investigate it. The cops were too, further up, and as he looked upstream, they looked down to find him. But he couldn't care about them when he saw the distressed woman. And then the child.
The little girl must have been climbing in the trees and fallen into the fast-moving river. He could see her little head bobbing as she cried out in return for her mother. The poor woman, a young mother in her own right, was frozen on the bank. Perhaps she wasn't a good swimmer… or she didn't quite know what to do. But he did.
Without any thought for his own safety, Antony kicked off his shoes and dived in to meet the girl. He was one of the best swimmers around though, battling with the flow of the river in order to catch the struggling child. He got to her and took her in his arms, but they hadn't won just yet. With additional weight for a return journey, he himself began to struggle against the force of nature that was a fast-moving body of water. The cops were stood at the sides, uselessly idling instead of trying to find a way to get them back out.
"WELL FUCKIN' HELP THEN!" He shouted.
They didn't take kindly to his language, but at the next bend in the river, as Antony drifted to the side with the little girl safely in his grasp, some of the officers were able to reach out to them and pull them in. She was coughing a lot, having taken in water during her short time in the river and Antony was soon coughing too. His own head bobbed under a couple of times under the force of the Foyle. Not that the officers cared too much about that. He was in cuffs before he could make a protest, his heroic deed unrecognised by the fuckers from the RUC. Waiting for an ambulance, the woman was at least thankful when the cops allowed her to speak to him.
"Thank you. Ye… ye saved my Orla's life". She tearfully addressed him. "What's yer name?"
"Antony… Antony Scanlon".
He saw the way she recoiled at the name Scanlon, the deeds of his father being well documented across the city.
"Sarah… Sarah McCool".
"Why the hell didn't ye tell me!?" Joe demanded to know.
"Sarah and I agreed with the cops that they would take the glory for rescuing Orla. I didn't want ye to feel like I only did it because I wanted something from ye… or because I was casin' ye for me da".
"I wouldn't have!"
"I'm sorry da… I just didn't want to worry ye at the time…". Sarah admitted. "… so soon after ma and ye were still very sad…".
The time after Marie died was a terrible one for the family, Joe sinking to the lowest point in his entire life for the few weeks after. He'd narrowly avoided falling to the bottle, with only Gerry's silent and unacknowledged contribution, preventing it from happening. He couldn't exactly blame her from hiding something related to the Scanlon's from him. Though Antony was in the Hospital bed next to Orla's when he visited later that day, he only scowled at what was the teenager at the time. He'd argued with Gerry in his presence though, as well receiving chastisement from Mary for doing so, so it wasn't as if Antony didn't know the basics of his family life mind…
"Still, doesn't answer why yer here…". Joe was calmer, but still eyed the man with suspicion.
"I… I came to apologise… on behalf of myself and my ma. I know… I know James is a member of yer family and I couldn't sit by and let ye think me or ma had anything to do with this".
"Ye didn't?" Joe was shocked.
"No… I wouldn't do that… not anymore…".
Antony looked to Sarah to see if she could help to defend his corner, and Sarah was more than happy to do so.
"He's a different man since prison da… I heard ye've got yerself a job now Antony".
"Aye… mechanic".
"No offence son… but being able to fix a car doesn't stop ye from beating a poor young lad senseless". Joe reasoned.
"I understand ye… being sceptical Mr McCool… but I'm being honest with ye. I swear to ye, I've moved on from that. I've got my girl Maria now… I was with her the night he was attacked".
Joe considered his options under the cloud of a deep sigh. He was a Scanlon, the closest family to the disgusting title of scum that Derry had, every inch of him normally would tell him that he should be beating the living daylights out of Antony. But for some, utterly… stupidly mad reason… he believed him. He wasn't always right when it came to judging people, but when Antony Scanlon stared back at him, it was all in the eyes… he was telling Joe the truth. Every word.
"Why did yer brothers do it then?"
"I…". Antony stopped to think about his own answer. "… if I could tell ye that then I would. I don't understand it Mr McCool. It's one thing to hate the Brits… it's another to do that… and then the guns…".
There was a silence around the dining table. Sarah looked to both men, to try and comfort Antony whilst trying to ensure that her father remained calm. She'd always felt guilty for lying about Antony saving Orla's life ten years earlier, when she seemed certain to drown. The guilt crept back up to the surface as they slept on the ferry on the way back from England that weekend. She put her finger on it being so close to the water, her subconscious dragging her back in time whilst she dreamt. Orla was now a Grand National winning jockey, yet without Antony Scanlon, she'd have drowned in the Foyle. It was a story that needed to be known.
"I'm so proud of yer Orla, Sarah. She's a hero". Antony broke the uncomfortable hush.
Expecting Joe to turn on him, savagely berate him for talking about Orla, he instead found the patriarch smiling back at him. It seemed the common unity between them was the young girl that was so special to so many people. The generational talent that was Orla McCool, who'd professed that she wanted people to come together in peace. That started with her family and the long-buried secret of their past.
"Son…". Joe spoke to get his attention, Antony keeping focused on him. "… go home. Tell yer ma that we accept the apology. She's going to need ye to be strong with what's happenin'. And it will solve nothing if I'm hostile to ye…".
The next action from Joe dumbfounded not only Antony, but Sarah too.
He held out his hand for Antony to shake.
"I've owed ye this for ten years. Yer a good lad son… I know that things might be tough in the next few months… but yer always welcome at this house".
As Antony firmly gripped Joe's hand and shook, a historic achievement was cemented. There was a conflict in Ireland that had been solved by getting around a table and being honest and holding an open discussion to resolve differences.
If Joe McCool could do it, there was no reason why the rest of the country couldn't follow suit…
