Secrets and Shadows (13 page)

B
arry took aim, then shot the man twice in quick succession. They were standing on the busy pavement on O’Connell Bridge, and Barry’s victim clutched his chest, then staggered backwards. Before Barry could open fire again he was shot himself by a cheery, middle-aged woman, and he doubled up in apparent pain from the imaginary bullet. Mum burst out laughing, and Barry joined in, thinking how lucky they were to have stumbled upon a ‘shoot-up’ with one of Dublin’s best-loved street characters, the famous ‘Bang Bang’.

Bang Bang was a simple-minded man in his thirties who carried a large metal key with which he ‘shot’ his fellow citizens, at the same time calling out his trademark cry of ‘bang-bang’. The people of the city had taken to him, and they responded to his imaginary gunplay by returning fire or pretending to be shot. Whole streets of laughing people were sometimes left playing Cowboys and Indians in his wake, with Bang Bang starting the shoot-up before jumping on a passing bus or tram to make his escape.

Barry felt really happy now, this encounter with Bang Bang being the cap on a couple of great days. It had been a brilliant surprise when Mum had arrived two nights previously. She had treated Barry and Grace to ice cream that first night, and Barry
was pleased when Mum and Grace got on well. Then Grandma Peg arrived back from Benediction and there had been a big fuss, after which Mum had moved her luggage into the spare room.

They stayed up late, planning what they would do during her two weeks of holidays. Mum understood that Barry loved the sports club, and she had agreed that he could continue attending events with Mr Pawlek and his friends, after which she would meet him so that they could have treats together. Trips to the zoo and the cinema were planned, but simply having Mum around was the best treat of all.

The one tricky moment was earlier today when he had to introduce Mum to Mr Pawlek. The sports club members had gone to the Phoenix Park for rounders and relay-races. Grace was working in the cake shop, so when the day’s events ended there was a moment when Barry found himself with just Mum and Mr Pawlek. There was no choice then but to introduce them, something which made him nervous.

He couldn’t show his mother any solid evidence against his teacher, but he was still afraid the man was an enemy agent, and that he might persuade Mum to let something slip about the war work she was doing in the factory. And if Mum revealed where the factory was located – which could easily happen during conversation – that information could find its way to Germany, and result in another
Luftwaffe
air raid.

‘Mr Pawlek, this is my mother,’ he had said, striving not to let his concern show. ‘Mum, this is Mr Pawlek.’

The teacher smiled and gave a little bow before shaking hands. ‘
Madame,
’ he said.

‘Mr Pawlek,’ said Barry’s mother, smiling back. ‘Nice to put a face to the name.’

‘Likewise. Barry has told me all about you.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, indeed. I trust your husband is safe and well?’

‘He’s fine, thank you.’

‘Barry also told me about your own work, riveting aircraft. Very impressive!’ said Mr Pawlek with a charming smile.

Mum smiled also and spoke to Barry in a lightly chiding tone. ‘Now, Barry, you know what they say, “loose lips sink ships!”’

If only you knew,
thought Barry. He tried for a rueful grin and said, ‘I didn’t give away anything too vital, Mum.’

Everyone laughed, but Barry felt on edge as his mother chatted to the drill teacher. To Barry’s relief Mr Pawlek didn’t press Mum about Dad’s location, or ask where in Liverpool her factory was situated. Instead they chatted easily about Barry’s progress in school –
popular and well-behaved!
– and life in Dublin. Barry discovered that Mr Pawlek found the rationing tiresome but enjoyed the varied musical entertainment that the city offered. When it emerged that both Mum and Mr Pawlek liked classical piano music, Mum told him of the concert pianists that she had seen performing in Liverpool. Barry was glad when the pleasantries finally ended without Mum revealing anything an agent might find useful.

After that he had taken the bus to town with his mother, and they had tea in Bewley’s restaurant. Part of Barry had wanted to come clean and tell Mum about his suspicions, but he didn’t want to spoil what had been a great day by making an accusation that his mother would very likely dismiss. And now as they prepared to head home after the Bang Bang incident, his caution was confirmed.

‘You’ve a vivid imagination, Barry,’ said Mum, laughingly referring to how convincingly he had entered into the shooting and being shot. ‘But then you always had!’

‘Really?’

‘Must come with your Irish blood!’

Barry smiled, knowing his mother wasn’t being entirely serious. But she clearly did believe that he had a strong imagination.
No, there was no point telling her a spy story that sounded half-baked.

‘Fancy an ice cream cone to finish the day off?’ asked Mum

Barry couldn’t think of any better way to finish the day, and he decided to put Mr Pawlek out of his mind for the rest of the evening. ‘Do I fancy an ice cream cone?’ he said, as though giving it serious consideration. ‘Well, you know what Dad always says?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’

Mum laughed. ‘That’s a yes, then.’

‘That’s a yes!’

‘You’re not going to believe this,’ said Charlie Dawson, flopping down onto the grass beside Grace and Barry.

‘Try me!’ retorted Grace.

The sports club members were sitting on the bank of the River Liffey at the weir called the Salmon Leap, and the summer air carried the reedy smell of the river. Led by Mr Pawlek, they had cycled from the city through the Phoenix Park, then down the steep incline of Knockmaroon Hill into the scenic area of the Liffey Valley known as the Strawberry Beds.

‘Whacker Wallace just told me the latest on Shay McGrath,’ said Charlie, savouring his news.

Grace thought that Whacker was the silliest member of the sports club, but she was still interested in anything to do with Barry’s former tormentor. Barry was interested too and he responded first.

‘What about McGrath?’

‘Well, you know the way his da is working in Birmingham now?’

‘Yeah, he hates the English but takes their money,’ said Barry.

‘Maybe he doesn’t hate them so much any more. Because he’s moving the whole family over to Birmingham.’

‘Really?’ said Grace in surprise. But then again, maybe it wasn’t that surprising. McGrath’s father had been penniless and unemployed for months. He might well want to settle with his family in a place with plenty of war-time work.

‘Means we won’t have to put up with McGrath when school starts again,’ said Charlie happily.

‘Great,’ said Grace. Now she wouldn’t have to pay off Johnny Keogh with rhubarb tarts if Barry stayed on in Ireland. Not that she minded, really. Barry was a good friend, and she hoped that his mother would decide to keep him in Dublin for safety’s sake. Grace didn’t want the people in Liverpool to be bombed any further; she knew at firsthand how awful that was, but she still hoped Mrs Malone would leave Barry in his Grandma Peg’s for fear of more raids.

She looked at Barry now, expecting him to be annoyed by the double standards of the McGrath family, but instead he was grinning.

‘After all McGrath’s rubbish about hating the English, he’s probably going to end up with a Brummy accent!’ said Barry. ‘I love it!’

‘It’s eh…what do you call that thing about justice and a poem?’ said Charlie.

‘Poetic justice,’ said Grace

‘That’s it, it’s poetic justice,’ said Charlie.

‘Poetic justice? Tell me more,’ said Mr Pawlek, approaching.

Grace hadn’t heard the teacher coming up behind them. His tone was light-hearted and he looked with curiosity at Charlie.

‘It’s Shay McGrath, sir. He was always going on about England and the English. Now his whole family are moving there.’

‘Are they?’ said Mr Pawlek.

‘Yeah, all nine of them,’ said Charlie.

‘Hard to know which would be worse,’ said Barry, ‘being invaded by Hitler or being invaded by the McGraths!’

Everybody laughed, but Grace felt that just like the day in the sand dune, Mr Pawlek’s laugh didn’t quite extend to his eyes. Seeing as the topic of invasion had been raised, she decided to be bold.

‘Talking of invading, sir’ she said, ‘what’s happening in Russia? Are the Germans still advancing?’ Grace kept her tone innocent, but looked enquiringly at Mr Pawlek.

He shrugged easily. ‘I don’t know, Grace. I don’t follow it all that closely.’

Liar!
she thought to herself.
You’ve a map in your kitchen marking the front lines!

Grace caught Barry’s eye briefly and saw that he too recognised the significance of the teacher’s answer. Any doubts that Grace might have had were gone now; an innocent man would have had no reason to lie.

‘Anyway, enjoy your lunches,’ said Mr Pawlek, smoothly moving on from the topic of the war. ‘You can sunbathe for a while if you like, we won’t be starting back till two o’clock.’

‘OK, sir,’ answered Charlie, then the teacher moved on to another group.

‘That’s some surprise about McGrath, isn’t it?’ said Charlie.

‘Yes,’ said Grace, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Barry, ‘you really never know what people are up to, do you?’

‘I
t’s the end of an era,’ said Grandma, as she left Sunday morning Mass at the garrison church and stepped out into the sunlight with Barry and Mum. The death had been announced during the Mass of the church’s long-standing organist.

‘I always hate to hear of a musician dying,’ said Mum, who was a keen pianist herself, although more given to jazz and the classics than religious music.

‘It’s really sad,’ said Grandma, ‘he was only fifty-six.’

‘That’s not
that
young,’ said Barry.

‘When you’re my age, fifty-six is young,’ said Grandma with a wry smile.

Many of the congregation had been genuinely saddened, and everyone had prayed for the soul of the organist during the Mass. Now, though, Barry’s spirits picked up on seeing Grace and her family chatting in the church grounds.

They approached the Ryans, and greetings were exchanged.

‘Looks like you brought the good weather with you, Ellen!’ said Freddie.

This was said in what Barry’s dad would have called a ‘hail-fellow-well-met’ voice, and Barry wished that Grace’s Uncle Freddie wouldn’t always try to convince people that he was the life and soul of the party.

‘Well, if we hadn’t good weather in July, when would we have it?’ said Mum easily.

‘Very astute, Ellen, very astute. We’re not dealing with muck here!’ said Freddie.

Mum smiled, even though Freddie wasn’t very funny, and Grace caught Barry’s glance and raised her eyes to heaven. Barry winked back at her, then found himself going on alert as he saw Mr Pawlek approaching, the Sunday newspaper under the teacher’s arm.

‘Ah, Mr Pawlek’ said Grandma.

‘Mrs Malone – by two!’ replied the drill teacher.

Barry watched as his mother smilingly returned the greeting, then Pawlek turned to him and Grace.

‘Barry, Grace, how are you?’

‘Fine, thank you,’ answered Grace politely, though Barry picked up on a tiny hint of coolness.

‘Fine, thanks, sir,’ answered Barry a little more enthusiastically, not wanting to alert Pawlek to their reservations about him.

‘Mr Pawlek, have you met the rest of Grace’s family?’ asked Grandma.

‘No, I haven’t had the pleasure.’

‘You know Mrs Ryan. And this is Tom Ryan, and Freddie Ryan, Grace’s grandfather and uncle.’

Mr Pawlek shook hands warmly with all of the group, and Barry noticed how good he was at being friendly and relaxed with people he had just met.

‘I have to say, Mrs Ryan, your daughter is a great addition to
our sports camp.’

‘Thank you, Mr Pawlek,’ said Grace’s mother with a smile.

‘And an excellent swimmer. Perhaps you taught her yourself – I could see you as an athlete?’

‘Thanks for the compliment,’ said Grace’s mother, obviously pleased. ‘But it was my late husband who taught Grace when she was small.’

‘He did a fine job. Do you swim yourself?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘Maybe you should learn. I’m sure you wouldn’t be long picking it up.’

‘Nancy has a full-time job,’ said Freddie. ‘We don’t all have teachers’ hours and time for swimming.’

Freddie tried to make it sound light, but it was clear to Barry that he resented Mr Pawlek. Barry remembered what Grace had said about Freddie having a soft spot for her mother, and he was amused by Freddie’s jealousy, though he made sure not to show it.

‘I suppose, Mr Pawlek, you find the Irish summers cool enough?’ said Mr Ryan, Grace’s granddad, in a diplomatic move to change the subject. ‘Compared to Poland, like?’

‘Yes, we have warmer summers in Poland.’

Or in Germany,
thought Barry. He caught Grace’s eye and suspected that she was thinking the same thing.

‘But then we have colder winters in Poland, so it balances out.’

‘Sure isn’t that the way with most things in life?’ said Mr Ryan agreeably.

‘Indeed it is,’ said Grandma, ‘I always say, God never closes one door but he opens another.’

The conversation descended into general chit chat, mostly about the weather, but Barry’s ears pricked up when Mr Pawlek turned back to his mother and spoke to her.

‘I’m glad I bumped into you, Mrs Malone,’ he said, ‘there was something I wanted to ask you?’

‘Yes?’

Barry felt himself getting anxious, even though Pawlek’s demeanour was relaxed.

‘I don’t wish to trespass too much on your holiday time, but there’s an excellent piano recital in town tomorrow night. I wondered if you might like to attend as my guest?’

No!
thought Barry,
find some reason to stay away from him!

‘Well…’ said Mum and Barry could see that she was uncertain how to respond.

‘It’s Grieg’s Piano
Concerto Number One,
Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata,
some Chopin nocturnes, and Gershwin’s
Rhapsody in Blue,
just so we don’t get too stuffy!’

Barry could see that Mum was tempted, but before he could say anything he was taken by surprise when the drill teacher pointed directly to him.

‘I’m sure Barry here would forgive me if I steal a fellow music lover for a couple of hours. What do you say, Barry?’

‘Eh…’ He tried to find a reason to object, but couldn’t come up with anything. He caught Grace’s eye and realised she had been
following the conversation. Grace nodded her head and mouthed the words, ‘Say yes.’

Barry’s mind was racing, caught between trying to find an objection and going with Grace’s suggestion. Because he knew at once what Grace had in mind. If Mr Pawlek was with his mother, they could enter his house and open the locked press. But he didn’t want his mother to be alone with Pawlek, no matter how well it suited their break-in plans. In the end the decision was taken out of his hands.

‘It would be a lovely night out for you, Ellen,’ said Grandma. ‘Sure I’ll be there if Barry wants anything.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Mum. ‘Is that OK, Barry, just for one night?’

It would look suspicious now if he objected, so Barry tried to sound casual. ‘Yes, it’s fine, Mum.’

‘Excellent,’ said Mr Pawlek. ‘The concert is at eight. Shall I call for you at say, seven fifteen?’

That would be fine,’ said Mum. ‘And thank you, Mr Pawlek, it’s very considerate of you.’

‘My pleasure. Well, until then. Ladies, gentlemen,’ he said politely, making his goodbyes.

The others said their farewells, and as they did so Barry looked at Grace. She discreetly gave him a thumbs-up sign, and Barry nodded back. He knew that Grace was excited, and that an opportunity had presented itself. He realised too that his own heart was pounding. But he couldn’t fool himself. His heart wasn’t racing from excitement, but from fear.