Friend or Foe (12 page)

Jack had been just about to make the same argument. But Da respected Sheila’s responsible approach to life, so Jack decided it
would be better to say nothing and let his sister make the argument for him.

‘And besides,’ continued Sheila. ‘The Inspector will never know. Like Jack said, it’s nothing to do with the Volunteers. It’s just a group of friends going down the country for one night.’

Jack felt a surge of affection for his big sister. He turned to look at his father.

For a moment Da said nothing, then he breathed out resignedly and nodded. ‘All right then. But keep it to yourself, Jack. Don’t broadcast to all and sundry that you’re a guest of the Daveys, all right?’

‘I’m sworn to silence, Da! Wild horses wouldn’t get it out of me!’

The others laughed, then Jack thanked his parents, gave Sheila a grateful nod and went contentedly back to painting his model.

E
mer thought Monasterevin was wonderful. It had a fascinating network of waterways and bridges, with the River Barrow, the Grand Canal, the Great Southern Railway and the Portarlington branch of the canal all coming together in this small County Kildare town.

Emer’s uncle Peadar and his wife, Gertie, had no children of their own, but they made Emer and her pals feel really welcome. They lived in an old house close to the lock-keeper’s cottage on the canal. Emer had enjoyed her friends’ excitement earlier in the day when the nearby lifting bridge had allowed a barge to cross the Barrow, the boat suspended high above the river on a narrow stone aqueduct.

As part of the Christmas fair, coloured lights had been installed along Monasterevin’s streets, attached to the walls of the tall canal warehouses. Now as Emer looked out the window of her uncle’s cosy kitchen at the night sky, a swirl of snowflakes was falling, giving the streets a fairy-tale quality.

Emer cradled a mug of homemade broth in her hands as she turned back to her friends, who were all seated at the kitchen table. Uncle Peadar and Aunt Gertie had retreated to the parlour with Mr Cronin, a local bargeman and a friend of her uncle’s,
leaving the five friends to sing songs and tell ghost stories around a crackling log fire. Even the novelty of drinking soup from tin mugs instead of the more usual soup bowls made the night seem special. Emer had suggested to Jack that they might extend their circle and ask Gerry to join them for this trip, but the other boy was working flat out selling Christmas trees door-to-door with his uncle.

‘Wouldn’t it be brilliant if the snow got heavy and we had it for Christmas?’ asked Gladys as the falling snowflakes lightly dusted the gaunt branches of the trees outside the kitchen window.

Jack nodded in agreement. ‘Yeah, like you see in the Christmas cards.’

‘I’d rather if it snowed in January, when we’re back at school,’ said Joan.

Ben looked at her in surprise. ‘Why?’

‘Because the pipes might freeze, and we’d get off school! It’s no good if they freeze when we’re on holidays.’

‘So that’s your Christmas wish – that the pipes freeze?’ asked Ben.

Joan laughed. ‘No, that’s my January wish!’

‘We should all pick what we’d like if there was no limit and we could each have one wish come true,’ suggested Emer.

‘Has it to be something that could really happen, though?’ asked Gladys.

Ben looked at his sister. ‘She just said there’s no limit.’

‘I know, but I’m just asking … Is it dream stuff, like being a queen, or is it a wish for something real?’

‘It can be anything you like, Gladys,’ answered Emer. ‘So who wants to go first?’

‘Why don’t you go,’ suggested Jack, ‘seeing as it’s your idea?’

Emer considered it for a moment. ‘I think I’d like to live in a castle on the Rhine for a year. And then come back to find Ireland was an independent republic!’

‘Come on, that’s two wishes, Emer!’ said Ben.

‘OK, well you can limit yourself to one!’

Ben looked thoughtful. ‘Eh … my wish would be to be a professional cricket player.’

‘Good choice, Ben,’ said Jack.

‘And what about you, Jack?’ asked Emer.

‘I’d be given a private tour by the Commissioner behind the scenes in Scotland Yard.’

‘Brilliant. And Gladys?’

‘I’m not certain. But I think I’d like to visit my pen friend in Wales.’

‘That’s a really boring wish!’ said Ben.

‘No more boring than you and your aul’ cricket!’ answered his sister.

‘And what about you, Joan?’ asked Emer.

‘I’d like to inherit a chocolate factory!’

The others laughed, then Emer looked up as her Aunt Gertie came into the room.

‘OK, it’s getting late. Time for bed,’ said Gertie.

‘Ten more minutes?’ asked Emer. ‘Please?’

Aunt Gertie laughed. ‘All right, miss! Ten more minutes, then bed for everyone.’

‘Thanks,’ said Emer. She looked back at her friends and winked, happy to savour every last minute of this magical winter’s night.

Jack sat up in bed, trying not to make a sound. He was sharing a bedroom with Ben, and they were directly above the parlour. The old wooden boards of the bedroom floor had some gaps, and Jack could see shafts of light from the room below. More importantly, he could hear Emer’s uncle Peadar and his friend Mr Cronin through the floor, and their conversation had made him sit up attentively.

Ben had drifted off to sleep within minutes of their candle being extinguished. Normally Jack had no trouble sleeping either, but the combination of a strange room and an action-packed day was keeping his mind active. The train journey to Monasterevin had been great fun, and Jack had thoroughly enjoyed the Christmas fair, which featured carol-singing and food and drink stalls with free samples. Rather than being sleepy after a busy day, however, he had tossed and turned for a long time. But now he was wide awake.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that Emer’s uncle Peadar was a nationalist – after all, he was the brother of Mr Davey, who was a captain in the Volunteers – but Jack had still been fascinated when
he first heard Uncle Peadar and Mr Cronin discussing the delivery of a secret consignment of ‘supplies’. It was clear that the two men thought they weren’t being overheard, and it sounded increasingly to Jack as though the supplies were for the Volunteers.

He remained stock still in his bed now, afraid that any movement might alert the men in the room below. In truth they were probably too caught up in what they were doing to be listening out for sounds from the bedroom, but Jack didn’t want to take any chances.

Just then there was a tapping on the window of the parlour below, and Jack heard Peadar saying, ‘That’ll be him’. This was followed by the sound of a chair being pulled back as Emer’s uncle rose from his seat and made for the hall. Jack heard the front door creaking open and being gently shut, and then Mr Cronin greeted the newcomer as he came into the parlour.

‘Good man, Dinny,’ he said. ‘Everything go well?’

‘No hitches,’ answered the man called Dinny.

‘Where are you moored?’ asked Peadar.

Jack suspected that Dinny must have transported the secret consignment to Monasterevin by barge, and he listened carefully for the answer.

‘In the shadows at the far warehouse.’

‘Right, let’s get it safely stowed away,’ said Peadar.

The men started for the hall again. Jack remained unmoving, but his mind was racing. What was the right thing to do? The easy solution would be to say nothing and try to go back to sleep. But
that would be a coward’s way out. Should he try to alert the local police? But that would feel like a betrayal, especially after having eavesdropped in a house in which he was a guest. And besides, he couldn’t say for certain that the supplies were weapons or ammunition.
Unless I check it out.

Jack bit his lip, unsure what to do. Then he followed his instincts, slipped back the blankets and swung his feet out onto the floor. He would need to be fast to keep the men in sight, but he couldn’t risk waking Ben. Moving quietly but swiftly, he pulled his trousers and sweater on over his pyjamas, slipped his feet into his shoes and quickly tied the laces.

He tiptoed to the bedroom door and crept down the stairs. Reaching the front door, he opened it carefully to minimise its creaky sound, then stepped out into the winter night and closed the door gently behind him. The snowfall had stopped, but a light dusting of powdery snow lay on the ground and reflected the soft-coloured light from the lanterns attached to the nearby warehouse walls. In the faint glow Jack could make out Peadar leading Dinny and Cronin down the street.

Jack shivered in the sudden cold, then followed them, figuring that later on he could get back into the house through the back door, which the men had left unlocked. They were on the edge of town here, and Jack encountered nobody on the street at this time of night. Striding quietly, he narrowed the gap between himself and the men, then came to a sudden halt when he saw that they had stopped at one of the furthest warehouses. They were past the last
of the coloured lanterns, but Jack could still make out the figure of Peadar opening the warehouse door. Simultaneously Dinny moved to the deck of a long boat that was barely visible, moored as it was in the shadows opposite the warehouse.

Jack flattened himself against a wall and watched a faint glow from inside the warehouse. He realised that Emer’s uncle must have lit a small candle, then he saw Dinny and Cronin carrying a wooden box each and making for the warehouse.

Still keeping to the wall, Jack drew nearer. He was getting his night vision now, and he could make out shapes on the deck of the barge that he suspected to be the rest of the supplies that the men planned to unload. The boxes were clearly heavy, so it would take a while to move them all. If he timed it right, he might be able to board the boat and check the boxes while the men were inside.
If I time it right
. But what if he got it wrong and they caught him? The Volunteers regarded themselves as an army – and Jack was well aware of what armies did to spies. He shivered, and he knew it wasn’t just from the cold. But he had come this far, and he couldn’t just walk away.

Just then the three men emerged from the warehouse, and each of them took another box from the deck of the barge. Jack waited until they crossed back to the warehouse entrance, then he sprinted towards the vessel. He assumed that they were storing the goods somewhere inside the building, but he didn’t know how long he would have before they came out for the next load. He lightly jumped up on the deck of the barge, then bent down
to try to read the lettering that was on the outside of the boxes. With the door of the warehouse closed over, there was hardly any light spill, and Jack couldn’t read the wording. He decided to lift one of the lids. If he opened a box and found bullets or sticks of dynamite, he would have his proof.
And then what will I do?
He didn’t know, but until he was sure of the boxes’ contents, nothing could be decided.

The lid of the box was firmly closed, and before Jack could find a way to open it, the door of the warehouse swung ajar. Jack immediately dropped behind the stack of wooden boxes and froze. He heard the men approaching – sooner than he had expected – and he felt his heart pounding in his chest.

It occurred to him that he had wiped snow off the top of the box while trying to open the lid, and he cursed himself.
What was I thinking?!
If the men were alert, they might notice that someone had been at one of the boxes. And any kind of a search would reveal his hiding place, mere yards from where the men were now.

Jack stayed totally still and held his breath. If the worst came to the worst and his hiding place was discovered, he would dive into the canal and swim for the far bank. The water would be freezing, but if he escaped into the darkness on the far side, he might be able to get back to the house and jump into bed without his face being seen. It was a desperate plan, and it would backfire completely if they saw his face.
Or if they shot me in the back while I swam across the canal
. There was every reason to suspect that men moving an important secret consignment would
be armed. Before he could worry about it any more, the men reached the barge.

‘Damn it, lads,’ whispered Dinny. ‘Look.’

Jack prayed that he wasn’t referring to the box with the snow removed. He pressed his knees together to stop them from shaking.

‘What is it?’ asked Peadar.

Jack felt like his chest would explode from the tension as he waited for Dinny to answer.

‘The moon,’ whispered the bargeman. ‘It’s going to come out from behind the clouds.’

Jack felt a surge of relief, then realised he wasn’t out of trouble yet. Just as Dinny had predicted, the moon suddenly came out from behind the clouds, brightening the scene. Jack wondered if any part of his body would be visible now. But even if it was, he couldn’t risk moving, with the men only a few feet away.

‘Right, let’s speed this up!’ said Peadar.

Jack heard a grunt as Emer’s uncle lifted one of the heavy boxes, then Dinny followed suit. There was a short pause, and Jack’s mind started racing. Had Cronin spotted the snow-cleared box? Or Jack’s footprints on the snow-dusted deck, visible now in the moonlight? It was as though time stood still, and the couple of seconds before Cronin went into action seemed like an eternity to Jack. Then the man breathed out heavily as he hoisted a box and hurried after his companions.

Jack let his breath out slowly before rising into a crouch. He needed to get off the barge quickly, especially now that the men
were moving at a faster pace because of the brighter conditions. He also realised that this was his chance to read the writing on the boxes. He moved swiftly back to the front of the barge, and there, in the moonlight, he read the lettering on the top box: ‘Dynamite – handle with extreme care!’

Well that answers my question and no mistake
, he thought, then he jumped down from the boat onto the bank. He knew that the men could return from the warehouse any second, and so he sprinted away, keeping to the shadows and not stopping till he turned around a corner out of sight. This street too was brightened by moonlight, but Jack retreated further into the shadows and tried to gather his wits. His heart was still racing from his near-discovery, and he breathed deeply, trying to think clearly.