Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
And Blue Skies From Pain (56 page)
“Was hoping to see my mother, ah, Father,” Liam said. “But I don’t know if that will be possible.”
The Monsignor blinked. “Why shouldn’t he—”
Bishop Avery leaned in and whispered in the Monsignor’s ear.
“Oh. I see,” the Monsignor said.
The Bishop and the Monsignor sat down in chairs positioned behind the desk. There came another knock on the door, and Father Thomas entered, carrying a tray.
“Very good,” Bishop Avery said in English.
Father Murray got up and helped Father Thomas arrange the wine glasses, tea things and a dish of tiny sandwiches on the top of Bishop Avery’s desk. Once everything was done, Father Thomas left.
“Liam, would you like tea? Or would you prefer wine?” Bishop Avery asked, uncorking the bottle.
Father Murray saw Liam glance his direction as if asking permission. He gave Liam a small nod.
Either way, it might put the lad at ease. That was smart of you, Robert.
Either way, it might put the lad at ease. That was smart of you, Robert.
“I’ll have the tea, sir,” Liam said.
It took a bit of time to sort out the food and for everyone to settle back into their seats. Father Murray watched Liam drink his tea and hoped for the best.
“Liam, the Monsignor and I have two proposals,” Bishop Avery said. “First, we have been authorized to offer an indefinite extension of the truce between the Church and the Fey.”
Father Murray almost cheered.
There was a long pause while Liam’s face remained expressionless. “For which diocese?”
Father Murray placed a hand on Liam’s arm. “Liam, please—”
“This truce will be declared for the Republic of Ireland and all of Northern Ireland,” Monsignor Alghisi said.
Liam blinked. “Oh.”
“However, this leaves us with a particular problem,” Bishop Avery said. “Very little is known of the Fey beyond what we have learned from you. Unfortunately, since you are half human—”
“Mortal, sir,” Liam said. “With respect, the Fey prefer to use the word ‘mortal.’”
Father Murray held his breath.
Please, Liam. Don’t anger them. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.
Please, Liam. Don’t anger them. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.
Bishop Avery paused. The Monsignor nodded his approval.
“All right. It is unfortunately unclear which characteristics are due to your… mortal heritage and which aren’t,” Bishop Avery said. “More to the point, there is no reliable means of determining whether or not a suspected Fallen is a demon or Fey. Do you understand?”
“You want me to help you judge whether or not someone is a demon,” Liam said. “In other words, decide whether or not you’re to murder them.”
Father Murray said, “Liam—”
“That is what you’re talking about, isn’t it?” Liam asked.
Father Murray attempted to calm him. “Please, Liam—”
“I’ll tell you the same I told Séamus. I’ll have nothing to do with the killing,” Liam said. “I’m done with it.”
“That is an admirable and understandable position,” Bishop Avery said.
“Perhaps one might consider the proposition another way,” Monsignor Alghisi said. “The persons targeted would normally undergo immediate execution as Fallen without further inquiry. We merely ask your assistance in determining who we should save.”
It was clear from the expression on Liam’s face that he didn’t like the idea at all.
“Think of the Fey that will be spared,” Bishop Avery said.
“My Mary Kate—my wife was in Uni, Father,” Liam said. “Heard of a man named George Orwell, have you?” He leaned forward. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
“You’re saying you don’t wish to help us?” Bishop Avery asked.
“I’ve no wish for the power of life and death,” Liam said. “I told you I was done with it. And I fu—I mean it.”
Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. He’s going to throw it all away.
“Liam—”
“Liam—”
“I mean it,” Liam said.
Monsignor Alghisi exchanged a look with Bishop Avery and then nodded.
“We do understand your position,” Bishop Avery said. “However, we very much need your help.”
“And my da is looking for the same sort of help, did you know? The Fey have a similar problem with Fallen hiding in their midst. But I’ll not be anyone’s Diplock judge,” Liam said.
“No one is asking you to execute anyone,” Father Murray said.
“Oh, aye?” Liam asked. “That’s your place, isn’t it?”
Father Murray felt he’d been kicked in the gut.
Liam sighed. “I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean it.”
“I deserve that,” Father Murray said. “I do. We both know why.”
Liam said, “Father—”
“But please believe me,” Father Murray said and took a deep breath. “This is about saving lives. Not taking them. You’re thinking about this all wrong.”
“Am I?” Liam asked.
“If it makes you feel better, we’ll look into some form of oversight,” Bishop Avery said. “It might make the situation more palatable to certain objectors, in any case. You see, our Order has never before extended membership to a non-ordained member of the Church, even in a strictly associative capacity. But if that would make you feel better….” He shrugged.
“Who?” Liam asked.
“What do you mean?” Bishop Avery asked.
“Who would be the one checking up on me?” Liam asked.
“We can discuss that later,” Bishop Avery said.
“Not Monsignor Paul. Aye?” Liam asked, setting his cup down.
Bishop Avery glanced at Monsignor Alghisi.
Monsignor Alghisi said, “Not Monsignor Paul.”
“All right,” Liam said. Father Murray watched Liam’s knuckles turn white as he squeezed the arms of the leather chair. “I’m willing to hear you out.”
“In exchange for your assistance,” Bishop Avery said. “The Church is willing to extend the truce on an indefinite basis. Should you agree to work as part of a team—” He held up a hand as Liam started to protest. “The Church will agree to pay you a consultant’s fee. Also, you will be provided with a residence and new identification.”
They’re offering him a new life,
Father Murray thought.
Father Murray thought.
Liam blinked. “Wait. What?”
Bishop Avery said, “Your services could potentially be required outside of Northern Ireland. In which case, we can’t afford to risk having you detained by the authorities.”
Liam paused. “You can do that?”
Bishop Avery nodded.
“What about my mother?”
“What about her?” Bishop Avery asked.
“Are you planning on telling everyone I’m dead, or were you going to simply make me vanish?” Liam asked. “Either way, my mother is left grieving.”
Smart,
Father Murray thought.
Father Murray thought.
Bishop Avery asked, “How is this arrangement different from your former associations?”
Father Murray clenched his fist.
Oh, Mother of God, you didn’t say that, Robert.
Oh, Mother of God, you didn’t say that, Robert.
“I’ll only agree if I’m allowed to tell my mother I’ll be living with my Da’s people for a time. And that I’ll be allowed to visit her.”
“We can certainly make such arrangements,” Bishop Avery said.
Liam looked up at the ceiling and seemed to spy the camera mounted there.
Oh, shite,
Father Murray thought.
He’ll reject the offer and spit in their faces. He’ll—
Father Murray thought.
He’ll reject the offer and spit in their faces. He’ll—
“I’ll take care of my own lodgings,” Liam said.
“Why?” Bishop Avery asked.
“It isn’t that I don’t trust you, Father,” Liam said. “But after living under conditions you lot deemed secure, I think I’d be safer on my own.”
Father Murray attempted not to smile.
“Oh, I see,” Bishop Avery said. He cleared his throat. “All right.”
“Who am I to be working with?” Liam asked.
“We thought Guardian Murray would be most appropriate,” Bishop Avery said.
“Only Father Murray?” Liam asked.
“For the time being,” Bishop Avery said.
Liam stared into his tea. “I’d like part of the money sent to my mother and another to Elizabeth MacMahon. I’ll give you the address, aye?”
Father Murray asked, “Who?”
“Elizabeth is Oran’s widow,” Liam said. “Promised Oran I’d look after his family, so I did.”
“Very well,” Bishop Avery said. “Whatever you need.”
“Lastly, Monsignor Paul is to have nothing to do with us,” Liam said.
“I understand your misgivings,” Bishop Avery said.
“I don’t trust him,” Liam said. “I don’t like him either. I’ll not have him coming in at me when my back’s turned, you hear? I’ll not have him near me, or Father Murray.”
“I’m not sure we can—”
“You’ll have to, or I’m out,” Liam said.
Unable to help himself, Father Murray rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and hid a smile with his hand.
Bishop Avery again looked to Monsignor Alghisi. The Italian’s dark brown eyes glittered and then he shrugged. “I don’t have the authority for such a thing. However, I can certainly look into the matter. I might need a few days before I can give you a definite answer,” Bishop Avery said.
“Fair enough,” Liam said. “I may need a few days to think it over, myself.”
Chapter 31
Londonderry/Derry, County Londonderry, Northern Ireland
27 December 1977
27 December 1977
“ H
ello?” Liam spoke into the pay phone and turned his back toto it so he could watch the bustle of the afternoon street. The tension between his shoulder blades ratcheted up a couple notches when he spied the troops stopped at the corner. He didn’t breathe until they moved on. He found himself listening for extra clicks on the telephone line.
Watch what you say, aye?
ello?” Liam spoke into the pay phone and turned his back toto it so he could watch the bustle of the afternoon street. The tension between his shoulder blades ratcheted up a couple notches when he spied the troops stopped at the corner. He didn’t breathe until they moved on. He found himself listening for extra clicks on the telephone line.
Watch what you say, aye?
“Hello.” The voice on the other end was very young and female.
“Moira? Is that you?” Liam asked.
“Aye.”
“Why aren’t you in school?”
“It’s Christmas holiday. There’s no school. Don’t you know that?”
“Ah, right you are.” Liam sighed. It was such a normal conversation. He’d almost forgotten what that was like.
School. Christmas holiday. The scent of pine from the Christmas tree stuffed in the sitting room that had doubled as his room.
School. Christmas holiday. The scent of pine from the Christmas tree stuffed in the sitting room that had doubled as his room.
“You’re my brother Liam, aren’t you?” Moira asked in even tones. “I remember you.”
He could hear one of his sister Eileen’s records playing. It took him a moment to recognize Rod Stewart bemoaning the fact that the first cut was the deepest. Listening, Liam found he was a little homesick. “How do you know it’s me?” he asked, feeling a sad smile curl his lips.
Will I see any of them ever again? Is it Eileen playing the records or Moira? Moira wasn’t old enough to care about records when I saw her last.
Then he remembered her solemn grey eyes and how she always seemed to be looking right through him—even when she was small.
Will I see any of them ever again? Is it Eileen playing the records or Moira? Moira wasn’t old enough to care about records when I saw her last.
Then he remembered her solemn grey eyes and how she always seemed to be looking right through him—even when she was small.
Moira paused. “I just know.”
I bet you do.
He shivered, stuffed his left hand in his pocket and hunched inside Conor’s jacket.
He shivered, stuffed his left hand in his pocket and hunched inside Conor’s jacket.
“The dog isn’t as angry as he used to be, is he?” she asked in a whisper.
“What?” His fingers squeezed the receiver.
“It’s all right,” she said, keeping her voice low. She sounded far away. “You should listen to him sometimes. He’s only scared. And he doesn’t mean any harm. Not really. He wants to protect you, is all. He’s not as bad as you think. He didn’t do all the bad things you think he did.”
“What are you on about?”
“I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” she asked. Her tone changed. She sounded on the verge of tears. “I’m not supposed to know.”
A cold wind blew hard up the street, sending bits of grit and paper whirling.
Get fucking control of yourself, man.
He shut his eyes briefly.
She’s only a wee girl.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—It’s all right.”
But how does she know this shite?
He shut his eyes briefly.
She’s only a wee girl.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—It’s all right.”
But how does she know this shite?
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Please don’t worry yourself. I’m not angry with you. I shouldn’t have spoke to you like that.”
“Everybody is afraid of me. I’m stupid—”
“Moira, love. You’re not stupid. You’re smarter than all of them. That’s why they’re afraid.”
“Da says I’m mental—”
“You’re not mad either. Don’t you listen to the likes of him,” he said, wishing he were there to help her.
And what would you do about it? Hit him? You’d be just as bad as he is.
“You hear me? Don’t listen to him.”
Patrick. Fucking arsehole.
“Moira?”
And what would you do about it? Hit him? You’d be just as bad as he is.
“You hear me? Don’t listen to him.”
Patrick. Fucking arsehole.
“Moira?”
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