‘I’ll be calling you if there’s a problem. Goodnight, Mrs Grady, and thank you.’
Nuala shut the door behind her, wishing she could lock it, but knowing that would alert her friendly but nosy neighbour that something was up. Peeping through the front window and seeing Mrs Grady was still hanging around, she sighed and went upstairs to the bedroom she and Finn shared. She opened the curtains and the window to call down to her.
‘He’s alive and well, Mrs Grady, so you’re not to be worrying now. Goodnight.’
Nuala closed the window, redrew the curtains and sat down on the bed, knowing it was going to be a long week.
True to his promise, Finn arrived home in the early hours of the following Monday. He was so quiet, she hadn’t even heard the back door open.
‘Finn! Oh Finn! You’re home safe.’
‘I am indeed,’ he said as he divested himself of his clothes and slipped into bed beside her. ‘Forgive me, I’m stinking from sweat and grime... It’s been a long, hard week.’
‘But you survived.’
‘I did. Come here, my Nuala.’ He stretched out his arm and she laid her head on his chest.
‘Who was there?’ she asked. ‘What did you do? Were there any raids—?’
‘Nuala, I’m hanging. I need some...’
Nuala saw his eyes had closed, but she lay awake, loving the feel of his warmth and listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. She could not be more grateful that he was home; every day she’d had the locals knocking on her door asking after Finn and when he’d be back at work. Shouldn’t she call a doctor if he wasn’t improving? Was it contagious, did she think? In the end, she’d cycled down to Timoleague to visit Hannah at work and explained that the locals were getting suspicious.
‘I need to know the name for a bad illness that includes vomiting. I’ve a few ideas, but I need to pick the right one.’
‘Go along to the chemist here – Susan behind the counter is a woman you can trust,’ Hannah said in a low voice. ‘Tell her that Finn has a vomiting bug and ask her for some powders. I’m sure she’ll be able to give you a fancy name for an ailment.’
Nuala had duly done so, and Susan herself had cycled up with the powders and entered the cottage to see to the ‘patient’. Her arrival and the fact that now Nuala could tell everyone Finn had ‘gastroenteritis’ had done nothing for her reputation as a cook, but had satisfied the neighbours. Hannah had also ‘taken sick’ from the dressmaker’s shop, in order to assist the women cooking for the men up at the training camp in Kilbrittain, which had added strength to the myth.
The mad thing was that she knew Mrs Grady and the rest of the village would be cheering Finn on if they knew the truth. But that knowledge would only put everyone in danger.
My life is a constant lie... Nuala thought, before she finally drifted into a restless sleep.
At seven a.m., she had to shake Finn awake. She’d already made him tea and porridge and took it up to him to eat in bed.
‘Will you be all right to go to teach today?’ she asked.
‘I have to be, don’t I?’
‘Yes. Everyone’s been asking after your health so you need to show your face. How did the week go?’
‘I’d say ’twas the proper thing; we were put into sections and taught to act as if an attack from the enemy could arrive at any time. We learnt how to detonate a Mills bomb, then we practised with the new Lee-Enfield rifles, aiming and trigger-pressing, and we even slept with our rifles on us. If an alarm was given and any man in the section was not out of their bed fast enough, we’d have to do it all over again. We took turns to be in command of a section, and then in the evenings, after our tea, we’d be together in the barn to listen to lectures or do written exercises.’
‘It sounds serious, Finn. Are you sure that the enemy didn’t know what you were doing up there? The farm is close by the Black and Tan post in Kilbrittain.’
‘The Bandon and Kilbrittain battalions fielded the scouts, and did a grand job of protecting us. We all knew the whistle that would tell us if they were coming, but thanks be, they never did. We spent a lot of time out on the land, learning how to best use natural cover and how to navigate it quietly, keeping our formation when we were ambushing a road patrol.’
‘At least now you’ll all be ready if there is an attack,’ she said.
‘We will, so, but Nuala, here’s the difference:we’regoingonthe attack. We can’t just be sitting around playing defensive – we’ve got to organise more of our own attacks if we’re ever to triumph. There have been plans discussed which will be put into action soon. I’ll be needing to take more time away from the school to fight for the cause in the coming months.’
‘But how, Finn? You’ve a fine job as a teacher; you’re not thinking of leaving it, are you?’
‘Not leaving, no, but if necessary, I’ll need to tell Principal O’Driscoll of my involvement in the Flying Column. Perhaps my “illness” has been worse than was thought, so I might have to take some more time to rest, if you see what I mean.’
‘Well, what with your pale, thin face and your red eyes, you’ll be looking the part this morning,’ Nuala sighed. ‘Are you sure the principal can be trusted?’
‘I am. He wants Ireland back just as much as I do, and has often said he’d be out there fighting with the volunteers himself if he was a younger man. I have to trust him, Nuala,’ Finn said as he finished the last spoonful of porridge.
