Read Online Ashes In the Wind by Christopher Bland - Free Book Online Page B

‘We’re among friends tonight,’ giving a little wave of his hand that pulls in the six other men standing at the bar.
    Each of them nods to Frank. The tallest, a man with a strong jaw and unruly dark hair, is Michael Collins, who introduces himself in a gravelly West Cork accent and shakes hands with Tomas and Denis.
    The Big Fellow is already a legend among the Volunteers. At first sight he doesn’t stand out; he is wearing a dark suit, well-polished black shoes, and his grey Homburg is on the bar beside him. Tomas has seen the Police Gazette description.
    ‘Clean-shaven, youthful appearance, dark brown eyes, regular nose, fresh complexion, oval face, five feet eleven inches high, about thirty years of age, dark hair. Generally wears trilby hat and fawn overcoat.’
    Frank says, ‘Mick wants us in Dublin, Tomas. Denis, you’re to stay in Cork.’
    Denis looks relieved.
    ‘I’ll need to get a letter to my mam,’ says Tomas. ‘She’s heard nothing from me since Staigue Fort. I’m killed or captured for all she knows.’
    ‘You do nothing, no letter-writing,’ says Frank. ‘We’ll get a message to her, put her mind at rest.’
    There’ll be little rest for my mam if she knows what I’ve been doing, thinks Tomas.
    Frank leans forward on the bar and orders another whiskey for himself and the Big Fellow. They clink glasses. To Tomas’s astonishment Frank starts to sing in a sweet tenor voice. The others around him join in, the Big Fellow beating his hand on the bar in time with the tune. Frank looks at Tomas with a half-smile, then sings the second verse.
    And we’re off to Dublin in the green, in the green
    Where the helmets glisten in the sun
    Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
    To the rattle of a Thompson gun
    I’ll leave aside my pick and spade, I’ll leave aside my plough
    I’ll leave aside my horse and yoke, I no longer need them now
    And I’ll leave aside my Mary, she’s the girl that I adore
    And I wonder if she’ll think of me when she hears the rifles roar.
    When the song ends the little group breaks up.
    ‘I’ll be in touch,’ says Frank to Tomas as he leaves. ‘Denis, you can go home.’
    Tomas spends the next two days wandering around Cork City. He buys a copy of the Cork Constitution , reading and rereading the front page, matching the lurid description of the killing to his own much briefer memory.
    He knows a visit to Station Road would be too risky, and stops a barefoot boy on the Quays, gives him a shilling and careful instructions, blushing as he speaks.
    ‘Wait till she comes out of the house, follow her to the market, and tell her to meet the Kerry man on Patrick’s Hill at noon on Thursday. Come to the Queen Victoria that evening and there’ll be another shilling for you. Her ma doesn’t approve of me.’
    The boy smiles and trots off down the Quays.
    On Thursday, Tomas is waiting on Patrick’s Hill, hears the cathedral clock strike twelve, and an hour later walks back down, thinking his shilling wasted. At the foot of the hill he meets Kitty walking quickly towards him. She takes his arm and they go back up the hill to the place where Kitty had pointed out the landmarks of the city three weeks before. A lifetime. They sit on the grass holding hands. Tomas leans across and kisses her on the cheek; Kitty puts her hand on the back of Tomas’s neck and presses her lips against his for a long moment.
    ‘Walk me home,’ she says, and Tomas, still in the spinning moment of his first kiss, stands up and they walk together down the hill.
    They are still holding hands, when Kitty asks, ‘Were you involved at the Constitution Club?’
    Tomas stops, turns to look at her. ‘I was.’
    Kitty lets go of Tomas’s hand when they get close to Station Road.
    ‘He was a bad man,’ says Tomas, and echoes Frank’s words, ‘Cork’s a better place without him.’
    ‘That’s as may be,’ says Kitty. ‘But Staigue Fort was a battle, soldier against soldier. This was...’