Danny Boy

Connie, attempting to change the subject, had said, ‘Well, we’d best get cleared away quickly. Sarah will be seeing her young man if I know anything.’

Sarah sniffed. ‘If you mean Sam,’ she said, ‘I’m not seeing him tonight as it happens.’

‘Oh’ Connie said, surprised, for Sarah saw Sam every Saturday evening. ‘Why’s that then?’

‘He said he had something on,’ Sarah said disparagingly. ‘In fact, he said he probably wouldn’t be seeing me for a few days.’

‘What’s he up to?’

‘Oh, Mammy, what’s he ever up to? More schoolboy nonsense. Him and his secret organisation. The whole thing gets on my nerves.’

Later, when Rosie went through the girls’ bedroom to reach Phelan’s, Sarah’s words came back to mind. Sarah and Elizabeth were still asleep, the two curled together in the double bed. They had no reason to waken yet and she crossed the room softly and tapped lightly on Phelan’s door.

There was no answer, nor was there one to her second, louder tap. ‘Phelan,’ she hissed. But the room beyond stayed silent. There was no option but to open the door. She stood stock-still in the doorway. She’d made up his bed the previous day and it was obvious it had not been slept in since.

She wondered for a brief moment if something had happened to him. Maybe he’d been attacked and was lying in the road somewhere, or had been tipped into a ditch? But she dismissed these fears as quickly as they’d entered her head, for who would do such a thing to Phelan? No, no-one would hurt the lad, but he seemed hell-bent on hurting himself, for she was sure Phelan’s disappearance all night had something to do with the Irish Republican Brotherhood. God alone knew what, but for now, Rosie had to go and break the news to Connie that Phelan was missing.

Danny was angry when Rosie told him about his brother. He’d intended to take Phelan to task that morning for the disrespect he’d shown their father the previous night. He honestly didn’t know what had got into him the past few days. He’d been as tense as a coiled spring and inclined to snap for no reason.

Now the young hooligan was on a different tack altogether, not coming home at all. Dear God, their father would kill him when he did eventually return. Well if he did, Danny wouldn’t blame him one bit. Enough was enough.

The family all went to early Mass that Easter Sunday morning, so they didn’t see any of Rosie’s family. ‘I bet young Dermot will be glad Lent’s over?’ Connie commented as they made their way home, trying to lighten the atmosphere which had hung over them since Rosie’s discovery. ‘Didn’t he give up sweets and chocolates?’

‘Aye, he did,’ Rosie said, hitching Bernadette higher onto her hip. ‘And hard enough it was for him, I’d say. I hardly saw a sweet when I was growing up and Chrissie and Geraldine the same, but God if you’d see the mountain of sweets and goodies Mammy would bring Dermot from town every week, you’d know how hard it must have been for him.’

‘Your mammy’s a silly woman where young Dermot is concerned,’ Connie said.

‘Don’t I know it,’ Rosie said with feeling.

‘I wonder if he managed it?’

‘Aye, I think so,’ Rosie said. ‘The child can be determined enough when he sets his mind to it.’ She smiled and went on. ‘Chrissie told me he had to fight Mammy to give up anything at all for Lent.’

‘All weans give something up,’ Connie said, aghast.

‘That’s what Dermot told Mammy,’ Rosie said. ‘He told her he was the only one at school not doing without something.’

‘Aye, weans hate to be different,’ Connie said. ‘Mind you, both of us gave up sugar in our tea, didn’t we, and I can hardly wait to go home now and have a decent cup well sweetened.’

‘And me,’ Rosie said with a laugh, for no-one had been able to eat or drink yet that day because of them taking communion. Bernadette, tired of being ignored, starting butting at Rosie’s face. ‘Stop it!’ Rosie said firmly. ‘Bad girl.’

Bernadette didn’t care a fig about being bad and instead squealed with laughter.

‘Give her to me,’ Connie said, putting out her arms. ‘She must be a ton weight now.’

Rosie was about to hand the baby over gratefully, when Danny, catching up with them, snatched her from Rosie’s arms and set her up on his shoulders. ‘Did I hear your mammy say you were bad?’ he said to the baby, laughing at his young wife. ‘Not a bit of it. A wee angel so you are.’

Bernadette screamed with delight and beat at her father’s head with her podgy infant hands. ‘Mind you,’ Danny went on, ‘your granny’s right about you being a ton weight. Nine months old and still being carried about. About time you took up walking.’

Bernadette had no idea what her father was saying, but she knew she was being spoken about and she shouted out her scribble talk in reply as Danny sidled up to his mother and, mindful of the other people streaming past them from Mass, said in an urgent whisper, ‘Go on back to Daddy. He’s on the look-out for Phelan and if he should come across him…well, let’s say he won’t be fully responsible for his actions.’

Connie shot him a startled glance. ‘I can’t,’ she complained. ‘The dinner.’

‘I’ll see to the dinner,’ Rosie told her. ‘Go on now, smooth down his feathers. We don’t want to see murder done on an Easter morning.’

‘I can’t say I’d blame Daddy, though,’ Danny said, as Connie scurried away. ‘God, I’d be livid. Christ, who am I kidding? I am livid.’

But thoughts of Phelan had brought to Rosie’s mind her own family. ‘I’ll go home after dinner,’ she said. ‘I have a bar of chocolate for Dermot. It’s Easter Sunday, after all, and I should pay them a visit.’

‘Will you take the wee one with you?’ Danny said, indicating the waving, babbling Bernadette above him.

‘Oh, aye,’ Rosie said. ‘Dermot wouldn’t forgive me if I left her behind. In fact, he probably wouldn’t let me in the house at all.’

‘He is fond of her all right.’

‘More than fond,’ Rosie said. ‘Our baby is well-loved, Danny, and no harm in that, but I won’t have her as spoiled as Dermot is.’

‘Sure, there’ll be no time to spoil her,’ Danny said. ‘She’ll probably have a wee brother or sister before she’s much older and when you have a whole squad of them to rear you’ll not have a spare minute to ruin any of them.’

Rosie laughed and thought that Phelan could go hang himself. All the worrying she had done about him had achieved nothing at all but upset those around her, particularly Danny who loved her so much. Well, from now on, she decided, she wouldn’t lose a wink’s sleep over him. She looked up at Danny and smiled broadly. She had the urge to catch up his hand and run with him as if they were weans, the baby bouncing up and down on his shoulders.

Danny was delighted with the smile that lit up her face and hoped whatever had ailed her was now over. He held the baby’s feet with one hand and with the other he pulled Rosie close. She felt so loved and cherished it brought tears to her eyes. She took hold of Danny’s hand and, united, they walked home together.

Everyone expected Phelan back for dinner. Connie always said his stomach had often brought him home when he was younger. But when the food was served up there was still no sign of him. Matt was raging: it was almost seeping out of him. When he said menacingly that Phelan would have some explaining to do when he did come home, Rosie thought she would not be in Phelan’s shoes for all the tea in China.

The meal was an especially delicious one, and with a steamed pudding now Lent was over, which the family lingered over as if determined they wouldn’t let Phelan’s non-appearance destroy the meal Connie and Rosie had slaved for hours preparing.

It wasn’t entirely successful. Phelan’s empty chair was a stark reminder of his absence, and Rosie knew Connie’s ears were constantly attuned to hearing her son’s boots on the gravel path or across the cobbled yard.

They eventually finished the meal and the men settled before the fire for a smoke, Bernadette on Danny’s knee, while the women began collecting the pots, Connie taking every opportunity to peer through the window or the door, left open because of the warmth of the day. Rosie’s heart ached for her. How could Phelan just not come home like this? He’d know how his mother would worry so.

Matt too was equally worried and also hurt, but he didn’t deal with it the same way as Connie and sat before the fire and talked to Danny about everything under the sun as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘Where d’you think he is?’ Connie asked Rosie quietly as they folded the tablecloth together.

‘He could be anywhere,’ Rosie whispered back. ‘Maybe he stayed at a friend’s house last night and is afraid to come home.’

‘You think that’s it?’ Connie said desperately. Rosie felt her grasping at straws.

What should she say? If she mentioned the Brotherhood and then found Phelan’s disappearance had nothing to do with that, she’d endanger the family. ‘I’m sure it will be something simple,’ she said reassuringly.

By the time the pots and plates were washed and dried, and the room put to rights, Matt had dropped off before the fire and Bernadette had followed suit, cuddled against her father. ‘I could put her in the room and we could have a wee walk out if you’ve a mind to,’ Danny suggested to Rosie. ‘It’s a fine day and you could go on to your mother’s after, when Bernadette wakes up.’

‘Aye,’ Rosie agreed, though in reality her legs ached and she longed to sit and rest. ‘Aye, that would be grand. Will you see to Bernadette, Mammy, and I’ll get my coat?’

But as Rosie crossed the floor she saw Dermot streak past the window and come to the threshold of the door, bent over, gasping for breath, his brick-red face glistening with sweat.

‘What in God’s name…?’

‘I have a letter,’ Dermot gasped. ‘It’s from Phelan.’