Taken Away
ALSO BY CELINE KIERNAN
The Moorehawke Trilogy
BOOK I
The Poison Throne
BOOK II
The Crowded Shadows
BOOK III
The Rebel Prince
This edition published in 2011
First published in Ireland by The O'Brien Press Ltd. 2011
Copyright © Celine Kiernan 2011
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Allen & Unwin
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Australia
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ISBN 978 1 74237 752 0
Cover and text design by Ruth Grüner
Cover photos: boy © Roderick Field / Trevillion Images;
tree by Ilona Wellmann / Trevillion Images; ice © Peter Zelei / iStockphoto
Set in 11.3 pt Granjon by Ruth Grüner
Printed in Australia by McPherson's Printing Group
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
To Mam, I love you.
To Dad, I miss you.
CONTENTS
LITTLE GREEN PILLS TO COMBAT THE COLD
LOST AGAIN, AFTER SO LONG RUNNING
SIX DAYS LATER â A CONVERSATION ABOUT SKA
WE WERE WATCHING TELLY
the night Nan burnt the house down. It was March 1974, and IÂ was fifteen years of age. IÂ thought IÂ lost everything in that fire, but what did IÂ know about loss? Nothing, that's what. IÂ would learn soon enough.
IÂ think the fire changed us â me and Dom. Though IÂ didn't feel much different at first, IÂ think something inside of us opened up, or woke up. IÂ think, all at once, we began to understand how easily things are broken and taken and lost. It was like walking through a door: on one side was the warm, cosy sitting room of our childhood; on the other, a burnt-out shell of ash and char.
IÂ think that's how the goblin-boy was able to see us. Though he'd been there for every summer of our childhood â mine and Dom's â we'd only been stupid boys until then. Stupid, happy, ignorant boys. And what in hell would he have had in common with two stupid boys? But after the fire we were different. We were maybe a little bit like him. And so he saw us, at last, and he thought he'd found a home.
THE NIGHT OF
the fire, Ma had brought chips home and we were eating them from the bags, our feet on the coffee table, our eyes glued to the TV. Looking back, it's weird to remember that we were watching
All Quiet on the Western Front
. Looking back, it seems prophetic â but at the time IÂ just remember hating it. It didn't feel like a proper war movie at all. It was about the Germans, for one thing. They were the bad guys! Who wants to watch a war movie about the bad guys? And they weren't even acting like bad guys. They just acted like normal lads â though it had to be said they were a bloody dismal bunch. That was another thing IÂ hated. Who needs a dismal war movie? Where were the heroics? Where was the excitement? What was it with all the mud and confusion? IÂ flicked a glance at Dom, who was lying on the floor sucking the vinegar out of the bottom of his chip bag. He was frowning uncertainly at the screen.
âAre they Nazis?' he said.
âNo,' said Dad. âThey're just lads.'
Dom turned to look at him. âBut they're Germans!'
Dad went to say something but just then Nan came in from the kitchen, and he went quiet. IÂ think he was hoping she'd just sit down and fall back asleep, but she didn't. She stood at the back of the sofa instead, staring at the TV and fluttering her hands, kind of horrified. âOh no!' she said. âNo, no! That's not nice! All that mud! Oh, bless him.
Bless
him! That's not
nice
!'
Ma sighed and stood up and went around to her. Nan blinked, startled, as Ma took her by the elbow.
âIt's alright, Cheryl love,' said Ma. âIt's only a film.'
Dad reached behind him and touched Nan's hand. âTell you what, Mam,' he said quietly, âwhy don't you come sit in your chair and have a nice cuppa?'
IÂ looked away, because Nan's confusion made me angry.
IÂ think she must have shuffled from one foot to the other for a moment; IÂ could hear her muttering and sighing. But then that ad came on the telly â the one for Old Spice, with the waves in it â and the music made her happy again, like it always did. Next IÂ knew, she was sitting in her chair, smiling and taking a cup of tea from Dad. We all kind of relaxed a bit.
The film started again and Dad sighed. IÂ don't think he was enjoying that movie any more than IÂ was. The next ads came on. Nan murmured in her sleep, âOh, love, were you here all this time?'
Dad leapt up, rubbing his hands together. âRight! Pee then tea.'
He kissed Ma on the way out the door and she called after him to bring in the Jaffa Cakes.
We didn't notice him backing into the room until he'd got to the end of the sofa and grabbed Ma's shoulder. She swatted him in annoyance, thinking he was messing. Then she saw his face, and her expression went all flat and ready for anything.
âWhat's wrong?' she said.
âGet Mam out into the front garden, Olive. Just take her out as calm as you can. Don't come back in. I'm going upstairs for Dee.'
They looked at each other and my ma's eyes got enormous. âDave,' she whispered, âis that smoke?'
Dom leapt up from where he was lying. He had been drawing his comic book and was still clutching a purple marker. There were purple smudges all over his fingers, and his face was covered in purple fingerprints where he'd had his chin resting in his hand. IÂ began to stand up. Our front room never seemed so small as when the three Finnerty men all stood up together.
IÂ wanted to ask,
What's wrong?
As usual, Dom did it for me.
âDad?' he said. âIs something . . . ?'
âListen!' said Dad. âJust
listen
. Dom, help take Nan outside. Keep her calm and act like nothing's wrong.' He turned to me. âPat, I'm going upstairs. Once everyone's outside, don't let them come back in this house. Do you hear me? IÂ don't care
what
happens.'
IÂ nodded.
Dad went into the hall, glanced towards the kitchen, and motioned us to the front door.
Ma was waking Nan, a slow process at the best of times. âCome on, Cheryl love. Get up, me old darlin'. Up you get now.'
âWhere we goin'?' asked Nan, her quavery old voice fuddled with more than just sleep. âAre we late for mass?'