And Blue Skies From Pain (25 page)

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Authors: Stina Leicht

BOOK: And Blue Skies From Pain
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“Am, at that, I suppose,” Liam said.
They appeared to relax.
“Best stick with us, then,” the one in the dog collar said, motioning him over. “Bully boys will have you, otherwise.”
Liam moved across the aisle and closer, resting his back against the window and laying his legs across the seat. Normally, he’d never do such a thing. The back of his head was exposed to snipers and the British troops on the street—not that it would make much difference were he facing forward. Nonetheless, he felt safer than he had in years. The steel of the seat rail was cold and solid against his palm as he realised he might not have to spend the night alone with Haddock’s ghost after all. Liam hated himself for feeling relieved.
“My name is Paul.” The young man with the dog collar held out a hand.
Liam shook it. “Call me Ronan.” He didn’t know why he gave that name other than out of the need to be someone else, even for a minute.
“Ronan? Like the wee seal?” the pretty girl asked.
The lad in the leather jacket laughed and shook his head.
“Don’t wind him up, Alice,” Paul said. “We don’t know him near well enough for that.”
Alice rolled her eyes. It looked a bit strange with the eyeliner. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my brother, you know.”
“Sure, and if I was, I’d have left you home,” Paul said.
Alice asked, “You’re not going to start with that shite again, are you? If you lot are safe enough, I’m safe enough.”
“I’m Skinny Pete.” The lumpy boy wearing the olive drab coat stuck out his hand. “Never mind her. She’s only flirting with you.”
Liam shook Skinny Pete’s hand.
Alice pouted. “Am not.”
“Oh, you are too,” the kid in the leather jacket said. “I’m Conor.”
“Good to meet you,” Liam said.
“Are you a Uni student?” Alice asked.
Liam blinked. “Ah. No.”
“Oh.” The spark of interest winked out in Alice’s brown eyes.
“Stop it, already. Will you?” Skinny Pete asked. “You’ll scare him off with all your nonsense.”
Alice stuck her tongue out at Skinny Pete.
“Serve you right, your face gets stuck like that,” Skinny Pete said.
“What are you, twelve?” Alice asked.
Paul said, “Will you two settle down?”
“You don’t have to be at Uni,” Conor said. “Although, myself, Paul and Skinny Pete are studying at Queen’s. Alice is still in school and so is Mark over there.” Conor jabbed a thumb at the boy with the checked scarf.
“I’m going to Uni next year,” Alice said.
“You don’t look familiar,” Paul said. “New to the Falls, are you?”
“Aye, that I am,” Liam said, thinking about how much information he could afford to give.
“You’re from Derry, then?” Skinny Pete asked. “You’ve the sound of it. I’ve an uncle from Derry. Family name is McCorry. Do you know him?”
“Afraid not.” That was the truth to Liam’s relief. He didn’t see the point in denying he was from Derry, however. “I am from Derry. Living with friends until I get sorted.”
“What’s their name?” Alice asked. “We might know them.”
“Ah. Don’t think you do,” Liam said, and then changed the subject. “You lot are the first punks I’ve seen.”
“You don’t have punks in Derry?” Skinny Pete asked.
“None I knew of,” Liam said. “But I don’t know for sure. Maybe?”
“You don’t get out much, do you?” Conor asked with a smile.
“I suppose I don’t at that,” Liam said.
An uncomfortable expression crossed Paul’s face as he took a closer look at Liam’s anorak. Liam didn’t have to guess. He knew what Paul was thinking.
Paramilitary.
The fact that Paul was right didn’t make Liam any happier.
“Work,” Liam blurted.
Don’t mention you were a taxi man for fuck’s sake. That’ll only confirm his suspicions.
“Used to work down on the docks. Didn’t have much time outside of that.”
“Oh.” The accusation faded from Paul’s eyes, but his reservations seemed to linger. “Why are you in Belfast?”
“The job ran out a few weeks ago,” Liam said. “My cousin said I could find something here. He’s put in a good word for me. But I don’t think it’s helping.”
That seemed to remove the biggest of Paul’s concerns and the conversation took a turn to Christmas and the coming family holidays. Liam relaxed a bit, appearing to be getting on fine until the bus stopped at the city hall. Paul, obviously the group’s leader, indicated it was time to go. Torn, Liam hesitated before finally following the punks off the bus. Concerned he’d be spotted by the Church’s assassins, he tried to blend in, but he was the tallest among them. Hunching didn’t seem to achieve much beyond making his neck and shoulders ache. The angry sleet had softened into a wintry mist. Paul led them around the building and seemed to be heading for the Bloomfield bus. Liam paused.
“Is something the matter?” Conor asked.
Liam glanced up at the sky. “It’ll be dark soon. Are you sure this is wise?”
“What’s wise?” Skinny Pete asked. “This is for fun.”
“We’ve no worries, mate,” Mark said. “Once we’re at Daft Kevin’s place everything will be fine.”
“I’ve a friend meeting us,” Paul said. “He has the use of his father’s car tonight. And he agreed to take us home when the party is over. Sure, we’ll probably get stopped at the checkpoints but that’s not unusual, is it?”
“Should’ve asked before, but where exactly is this party?” Liam asked.
“Daft Kevin’s,” Alice said. “We told you.”
“His parents’ place. In East Belfast,” Conor said. “They’re away on holiday. Visiting his older sister in London. New baby. Kevin told them he needed some quiet to study.” He winked.
“East Belfast?” Liam asked.
“That’s what I said. Come on. We’ll miss the bus if we don’t hurry,” Conor said.
Liam followed, regardless of the lead ball of anxiety nesting in his belly. He’d never been anywhere near East Belfast in his life. Bloomfield was where the Reverend Ian Paisley lived—the very Reverend Ian Paisley who had formed the Democratic Unionist Party. In Liam’s opinion, the man was an infamous bigot. Bloomfield, in particular, was an affluent and decidedly Loyalist area. “How well do you know this Daft Kevin?”
Paul shrugged. “Well enough. He’s in a new band with my brother. Plays drums.”
“And this Draft Kevin lives in Bloomfield?” Liam asked.
“Aye,” Conor said. “His father is doing well. Enough to put him and his sister through Uni.”
Liam whispered, “That’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?” Skinny Pete asked.
“He lives in Bloomfield. And he’s in a band with
your
brother?” Liam asked, keeping his voice low so that the other potential passengers couldn’t hear. “Paul, you’re a Catholic.”
Conor leaned closer and asked, “Is there a problem?”
“He’s a Prod,” Liam said.
“Aye,” Conor said. “But it’s not all that shocking to know a Prod that plays the drums, is it?”
Alice laughed, but Liam thought he detected a hint of tension in her face.
“Look,” Paul said, turning to face Liam.
Liam nearly walked into him.
“I thought you were into the music,” Paul said, frowning.
“I am,” Liam said.
“Fair enough,” Paul said. “No one at that party is going to give a fuck about any of that political shite. You hear? You shouldn’t care either. And if you do, you’ll have to leave. That’s the way it is.”
“Fuck sectarianism,” Conor said.
The others nodded.
“We won’t live by the same stupid rules our parents do. We don’t want the hate and the killing,” Skinny Pete said. “We live our way.”
“That’s how it is?” Liam asked.
“Aye,” Alice said. “It is. You for it or not?”
Liam paused. He thought again of the message scrawled on the back of Conor’s leather jacket and wondered how his life might have been different if he’d known the likes of Paul when he was younger.
What would Mary Kate have made of this?
Liam knew exactly what she would’ve said. Raised among staunch Republicans, she’d have said their ideals were impossible but that peace was what was important. Ultimately, she’d have been for it. He made a decision. It might be too late for him to stay out of the war, but it wasn’t for them, and he’d do what he could to defend their right to remain free of it. Besides, where else would be a better place to hide from both Séamus and Haddock?
Liam nodded.
“Good,” Paul said.
“But—”
“But what?” Paul asked.
Liam felt the strength of Paul’s gaze boring into him, and he was glad that the monster was trapped deep down and quiet in the dark. “What happens if… I mean… Are you sure of this Daft Kevin?”
“We are,” Paul said. “More than we are of you.”
Liam swallowed.
“Come on, Paul,” Conor said. “He’s fine.”
And if it turns out you aren’t as sure of Daft Kevin as you think, maybe I can do a few things you can’t.
Liam felt a guilty twinge.
Not killing. Not that. But a wee bit of bruising would be all right, wouldn’t it? If it was called for.
“All right, then.” Paul turned on his heel and set off at a brisk walk bordering on a trot.
Alice, the smallest of the group, had to run to keep up. For Liam, it felt grand to move as he hadn’t in a week. They stepped aboard the second bus. The reactions of the other passengers were no different than the first. As the bus thundered over the Lagan, Liam gazed through the window at East Belfast. Everything looked so very normal. It reminded him of the house where Haddock had lived, and that made him think of the woman he’d crippled in his attempt to get at Haddock.
What am I doing? I should be in Clonard, staying out of sight. I should be looking in on Elizabeth and the weans. I’ve responsibilities.
But he couldn’t bring himself to tell the others he wouldn’t go with them. He licked his lips and swallowed. With Mary Kate gone, it’d been a very long time since he’d felt normal, let alone felt he’d had anything truly in common with anyone… well… normal.
Human.
He glanced at Conor and wondered if he’d imagined that silver sheen in his eyes.
In any case, Liam didn’t know when he’d ever feel normal again—if he could at all. He was sick of living like a fugitive or an insect pinned under a magnifying glass. He yearned to forget himself for a time, no matter how short. At least, that’s what he told himself.
So it was that Liam followed the others off the second bus and down a side street with growing unease. It was as if he’d entered a foreign country. He didn’t know the area, wouldn’t know where to run if cornered. Even the smell of the place worried him. The air seemed too empty. There were no British troops, no Saracens, no piles of rubble, no rotting garbage left by city workers too frightened to pick it up. The only reassurance was the knowledge that, no matter what, he knew he could find the Lagan and once there, be safe. He couldn’t have said why. Mentally shrugging, he added it to the long list of things he should ask his father and probably wouldn’t.
And why is that?
he asked himself. At that moment he understood he was afraid, and it made no real sense.
Chapter 13
 
Belfast, County Antrim, Northern Ireland
December 1977
 
 
 
D
arkness swept across Belfast and the ice turned to snow. Liam pulled on the wool hat once more and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. The wind blew snowflakes down the back of his neck. His shirt was already clammy and clinging to his skin underneath his coat. He resigned himself to a long, miserable walk—his shoulders tightening more and more painfully against the chill and unease. To his great relief, it wasn’t long before he sensed a party’s distant roar. When they reached a brightly painted house surrounded by a hedge crowded with party-goers, Paul stopped and then opened the gate. The others moved into a front garden sugared with frost where students hadn’t trodden. Music, light, guests and conversations spilled out the open door. Uni students from all over Belfast seemed to have packed themselves into the limited space. Liam paused, his chest suddenly tightening at the sight and instantly lost track of Paul and the others in the crush. Once again, he spotted Conor’s jacket. So, Liam pushed through the throng, using the leather jacket once more as his lighthouse beacon. Conor plowed through with a gentle force, pausing here and there to shout a greeting or wave. “Ginny! Didn’t think you’d make it!”
A statuesque redhead with an athletic build waved back. Liam blinked. She was as tall as he was which meant she towered over most of the room.

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