Eden Burning Page 2

  “Here are the bullets.” Father Martin handed him six bullets about an inch and a half long.

  “How do I use it?”

  Father Martin shook his head and took the gun from Father Anthony, clicking a cartridge into place and then emptying it again.

  “I’ll aim for the legs.”

  “Let’s hope he’s not too skinny. A rabbit is an easier target than skinny legs.”

  “Pray that we don’t need to use it at all.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll explain to Tom what we’ll do. Will you do the evening Mass tomorrow for me? I’ll take guard outside.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  Father Anthony kept his eyes on the sandaled feet of Father Martin and walked behind him towards the oak door. Before Father Martin could turn the doorknob, the door shuddered under the pressure of two strong blows. Father Martin glanced nervously at Father Anthony. He turned the doorknob and pulled the door towards him, revealing the smiling face of the Rector.

  “You’re the very two I am looking for.”

  The Rector strode purposefully into the room and standing with his back to the crackling fire warmed his hands.

  “I’ve had an interesting chat with Tom…”

  “What happened to the Retreat at Mount Argus?” Father Anthony interrupted, hiding the gun behind his back.

  “Let’s just say I heard a voice whisper to me in the darkness that I needed to be here. Curious don’t you think? Now, what do we do about Cedric?”

  Father Anthony and Father Martin exchanged nervous glances. The Rector smiled.

  “Father Anthony, take that ridiculous gun from behind your back and put it on the chair where we can all see it. Father Martin, I want to talk to you alone, this minute. Father Anthony you can keep an eye on the gun until we return. Although I don’t think it’s going anywhere do you?”

  Father Anthony flushed red and dropped the gun on the floor, then retrieved it carefully and placed it on the leather chair.

  chapter 1

  Friday 31st December 1971

  Cedric looked at his reflection in the darkened window of the Black Beetle pub. He combed his fringe off his forehead, pulled a few strands forward, slipped the comb into his back pocket and looked at his watch.

  “Five, four, three, two and we have … one.”

  A bomb exploded in the distance.

  “Yes … that’s what we want … on time.”

  Cedric smiled at William and reached over to clink his glass.

  “Come on Peter, cheer up, it may never happen! Happy New Year!”

  Everyone else in the Black Beetle was standing on their feet, arms around one another singing and swaying in the smoke. “Should auld acquaintance be forgot …”

  William smoothed a single long strand of dark hair over his bald head and leant forward to clink Cedric’s glass a second time. “I hope the fuckers roast in Hell. On second thoughts, Hell is too good for them. Cheers. Happy New Year son.”

  A second bomb rumbled in the distance.

  “Crumlin Road; Ardoyne if Sammy P is on time.”

  Peter wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with the palm of his hand before reaching for the salt and vinegar crisps in the middle of the table. The crisps rasped against the roof of his mouth. He choked and coughed. His stomach was doing circles like a twin tub washing machine on a fast spin.

  “Looks like Sammy P has done a good job. I like a man who knows the importance of being on time.” Cedric gave a thumbs up to William, and pulled out the comb from his back pocket and slowly combed the fringe once more off his forehead. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and listened. A woman screeched at the front door – like a turkey getting its neck wrung, or someone descending at speed on a fairground big dipper. He couldn’t work out whether she was enjoying herself or whether she was in pain. Without opening his eyes he decided that she was enjoying herself. He tapped his feet on the carpeted floor. It was soothing. For a moment the contact of his foot against the soft carpet was rhythmic and gentle like a heartbeat. He inhaled the cigarette and cigar smoke like incense in a church and began to count.

  “Five, four, three, two, one …We have blast off!”

  There was a third thump. This one was sharper, longer, lasting more than a second. WHOOOOMP.

  “Well done Sammy P!”

  Peter stood up, rubbing his salty hands on his jeans. He looked towards the door.

  “Shouldn’t we go home? Mum’s alone.”

  William reached for his jacket hanging on the back of a chair. “Cedric?”

  “It’s not often that we’re first out of here.” Cedric waved at Jenny behind the bar. She blew a kiss at him. She was wearing a red polo neck jumper and jeans, with her hair curling onto her shoulders. There was a crown of artificial white daisies on top.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute.” Cedric pushed his way through the crowd towards Jenny.

  • • •

  On the Crumlin Road, Rose surfaced from deep sleep, opening her eyes in the darkness of the bedroom. It took a few seconds for her to realise that the noise was coming from downstairs. She tried to work out what was happening. There was an insistent banging on the front door. Her heart started to race. She instinctively tried to slow it down by breathing deeply but her body felt paralysed under the blankets. It was as much as she could do to turn her head slowly to the right and squint at the alarm clock beside her. Light from the full moon fell onto a rectangle on the worn green carpet and the objects in the room emerged as recognisable shapes. The white faced clock showed five minutes to midnight. Her heart beat even more quickly although she wouldn’t have thought that possible, her breathing quickened and she moved, jumping out of bed and searching the bedroom for something warm to throw on top of her pyjamas. She spotted her favourite purple coat with its fluffy lamb’s wool sleeves hanging on the back of bedroom door and ran towards it, pulling it over the pink brushed cotton pyjamas.

  She recognised the voice now which was attached to the pounding of the door. It had to be Matt.

  “Get out of bed. It’s the British Army.”

  Rose fumbled with the buttons on her coat, threw open the bedroom door and ran down the first flight of stairs in bare feet, jumping two steps at a time.

  “Tom, Lily, waken up.” She thumped on the bedroom door to her left. She heard the light tread of Lily’s slippers behind the closed door. “I’ll find out what’s happening,” Rose shouted as she ran along the landing towards the last flight of stairs. She gripped the top of the bannister, took a deep breath, then let the bannister go and forced herself to jump two and even three steps at a time, before reaching the bottom and sprinting towards the front door. A soldier hammered urgently on the glass window.

  “Wake up! There’s not much time.”

  Rose lifted the metal bar from its catches and placed it against the wall on her left, turning the lock and swinging the door open.

  “Matt, what are you doing here?” Rose whispered, looking over her shoulder to see if Tom and Lily were about.

  Matt sighed in relief, tightening the strap of his helmet and pulling on his gloves.

  “Rose, it’s a car bomb. Get Tom and Lily. It’s about to go off. The bomb disposal guys say it is a big one.” Matt pointed at a white Ford Cortina parked two doors away, on the pavement at the corner of Brompton Park.

  “Is there anyone next door? I can’t get a response.”

  “The Maloney family. But they’re not there tonight. They’ve gone to visit Nuala’s sister.”

  Matt sighed. “They’re not going to have much of a house to come back to if this goes off.”

  Rose looked past Matt to see two soldiers peering through the back windows of the Ford Cortina. They shouted at Matt.

  “It’s about to go! Run! Get out of here!”

  Matt grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her towards the gate.

  “No Matt. I can’t leave Tom and Lily. You go. Go!”

  Rose’s hand
slipped from Matt’s gloved fingers. She took two steps towards the front door. Matt sprinted with the two soldiers through the wrought iron gates, into the Church grounds. Rose was rooted, bolted to the floor. Matt was inside the gates of Holy Cross Church when the bomb exploded. It started with a small rumble and built to a massive roar as Rose saw the car disintegrate. She instinctively moved her hands to cover her ears as the full force of the bomb swept towards her. It thundered to a recognisable BOOOOOM. The glass from the parlour windows to her right, the upstairs bedroom, and even further up in the attic exploded, dropping in a glittering fountain of glass. Her body swayed and she felt herself losing balance as the plaster ceilings collapsed above her. The roar continued as the plaster crumbled and the wallpaper lay in strips on the floor. After the initial explosion Rose could still hear a high pitched continuous ringing in her ears. She felt the stinging of small splinters of glass pierce both the soles of her feet and toes as she ran up the flight of stairs. She didn’t care. There was only one thought in her head.

  “Tom, Lily where are you?”

  She tripped on a mound of fallen plaster on the landing, struggling to her feet as the hall lights flickered on and off. As she pulled herself off the floor, she looked up and could see stars twinkling above. It was as though she had fallen through a crevice and could see the sky from the jagged edge of the hole through which she had slipped.

  Tom emerged flustered in his striped crumpled pyjamas and bare feet.

  “Rose – are you alright?”

  “Yes.” Rose ran towards him, forgetting the pain from the glass sticking into her feet.

  Lily appeared breathless behind Tom. She threw her arms around them both.

  “Oh my God, have a look at the bed.”

  Lily held her hands to her face. The bed was covered with glass and plaster. A triangular piece of glass pierced the pillow. From the bedroom door, it looked like a sail on a small yacht.

  “Tom’s head was right there.” Lily pointed at the pillow.

  “Come on everyone. There could be a second bomb. We need to find out what’s happening.”

  Lily tightened the belt on her dressing gown.

  “Quick. Downstairs.”

  Mr Langley the next door neighbour stood at his front door smoking his pipe.

  “Mr Langley. Are you OK?” Lily patted him on the arm.

  “Well, I’m not bad at all – considering.” He tapped his tobacco on the wall and refilled the pipe. “I could be worse.” He gave Lily one of his slow smiles, holding the pipe in his hand, and then with a wink, he placed it back in his mouth and took a deep puff.

  “Here’s Father Anthony.” Lily shivered, crossing her arms.

  Father Anthony stumbled onto the Crumlin Road. His long black woollen habit swirled around him in the freezing breeze. His dark curly hair glistened like oil in the light of the moon. As he neared them, Lily pointed at his sandaled feet,

  “You’ll catch your death of cold Father.”

  Father Anthony rubbed his hands. “Forget about me. What about you all here? Has anyone been hurt?”

  Rose stood beside Lily. Father Anthony looked at her feet which were covered in blood.

  “You OK?”

  Rose smiled at him. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is. It’s only a few scratches. Lily aren’t you going to offer Father Anthony a cup of tea?”

  Father Anthony followed Rose’s gaze across the road.

  “Are you looking for someone?”

  Rose shook her head. “No.”

  Father Anthony followed Lily down the hallway as Tom brushed a path ahead of them.

  Rose stood in the doorway and looked across the road again for Matt. Her heart sank as she watched him jump into the armoured jeep. What would happen to him? As soon as he disappeared from sight she felt her stomach starting to churn once again. The driver swung out across the Crumlin Road to block oncoming traffic. She couldn’t tell if Matt could see her. She wanted to wave at him but she couldn’t as Mr Langley would see. She turned towards Mr Langley and looked into his eyes.

  “Did you have any damage to the house Mr Langley?”

  “Only the windows – you and the Maloney’s have taken the brunt of it. I’ve got folk inside who will be boarding up the windows for me within the next hour.”

  “Well, that’s not so bad.” Rose patted Mr Langley on the shoulder. “You know where we are if you need any help. Goodnight Mr Langley.”

  Rose closed the front door gently and joined everyone in the sitting room.

  The reality of how close they had all come to dying hadn’t hit home. That would happen the next day when they realised the extent of the damage and there was time to reflect. For now, it was Lily as always who made an attempt to lighten the mood before going to bed,

  “You’re not going to believe this Rose.” Lily held a banana in her hand. “The bomb perfectly skinned a banana.”

  “You’re pulling my leg.”

  “I swear. It jumped out of the fruit bowl, skinned itself and lay there on the kitchen floor asking for someone to eat it.”

  “So now we have not only a walking but a talking banana.” Father Anthony winked at Rose over a rim of his cup of tea. “What’s your Aunt Lily like?”

  chapter 2

  Saturday 1st January 1972

  Eileen cut a slice of white lard and placed it on the hot frying pan. She fried six slices of bacon, the edges shrivelling and kissing each other. She prised them apart, pressing them flat against the spitting fat. They bubbled up and the edges gradually browned. She turned to the six thick Cookstown pork sausages, stabbing each of them twice with a fork. Fat squirted into the pan as the sides burst open. She turned them round, watching the stripes of crusty brown spread over pink flesh. Bacon and sausages were placed into a Pyrex dish in the oven while she fried soda and potato bread, eggs, tomatoes and black pudding.

  She rustled among the ironed shirts to find a white cotton tablecloth with which she covered the table. She found a small red candle, lit it and placed it in the centre of the table with a few sprigs of holly. A cuckoo jerked out from the clock hanging on the wall beside the door, calling its punctuated song for nine o’clock.

  Upstairs, Cedric washed and shaved, splashed himself with Old Spice before carefully putting on a striped blue and pink cotton shirt with a white collar. He fingered the perfect crease Eileen had ironed into the sleeves and then fiddled with the gold dolphin cufflinks.

  “Why do they always make the bloody button holes too small?” He muttered under his breath, before opening the drawer filled with neatly rolled ties and finding a smaller set of blue crystal cufflinks. He sat on the bed to pull on a pair of navy corduroy trousers and a matching soft navy blue cashmere jumper. His dark hair curled onto the white collar of his shirt. He chose a pink silk tie spotted with blue hearts. He reached into the drawer for Eileen’s present.

  Cedric ambled into the kitchen, one hand behind his back.

  “Morning Mum. Happy New Year. How did you sleep?” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “Not bad. What about you? What time did you get in?”

  Eileen plucked a stray black hair from his shoulder.

  “Not much after midnight. I thought you would still be up.”

  “I was in bed for 11. Did you have a good New Year’s Eve?”

  “Not a lot changes in the Black Beetle for New Year’s Eve.”

  “I take that for a no then? Made any New Year’s Resolutions?”

  “I’ve nothing to improve. You know that.” He gave Eileen a second kiss.

  “You smell nice. What’s that you’ve got?”

  “A New Year’s present for you.”

  Cedric handed Eileen the long narrow box covered in silver wrapping paper with a red satin bow.

  “Thank you.” Eileen removed the wrapping paper meticulously, folding it in four and setting it on the table. Inside the box lay a string of pearls like a row of small moons on red velvet.

  “You shouldn’t have.
You’ve already given me a Christmas present. They’re beautiful, though.”

  Cedric took the pearls from his mother’s hands and placed them carefully around her neck. The clasp snapped closed.

  “They look great.”

  Eileen laughed, rolling the pearls in her fingers. “Sit down you big softy. Breakfast is nearly ready. Tell me about Jenny. Have you got around to asking her out?”

  “No.”

  “You should do. She’s a lovely girl from what you’ve told me.”

  The kitchen door squeaked open as William limped into the room.

  “Morning all.”

  “Happy New Year. Ready for breakfast?”

  “Fed the cats?” William looked around the kitchen.

  “Of course. Here’s Bouncer looking for you.”

  A mop of a striped tiger cat jumped onto William’s knee, turned around twice and settled comfortably on top of his brown corduroy trousers. William stroked his head, feeling the long soft silky fur beneath his fingers. Bouncer looked at him through half closed eyes, digging his claws into William’s thighs, gently swishing his tail.

  “Honourable creatures aren’t they?” William smiled at Eileen.

  “Why do you say that?” Eileen buttered the toasted wheaten bread.

  “They don’t lie. Not like human beings.” Eileen blushed slightly red but William didn’t notice.

  Five minutes later Peter was last to appear for breakfast. Wrapped in a green cotton dressing gown and brown leather slippers he sat down facing Cedric and held his head for a few seconds in his hands.

  “What’s the matter?” Eileen placed a mug of tea beside him.

  “I hate this time of year.”

  “Oh dear, will a fried egg make any difference?”

  Eileen tweaked his hair. Peter held out his plate.

  “You’ve too much time on your hands, that’s what’s wrong with you,” Cedric mumbled through a half-eaten pork sausage. “Remember that you’ve work to do tomorrow. That will stop you feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “Don’t be mean Cedric.” Eileen topped up Cedric’s tea.

  “What’s happening tomorrow?”

  “Nothing special.” Cedric tapped a dollop of tomato ketchup onto his plate.