following evening the truck stood ready and waiting to take the men home. Yet Sam was loath to leave the docks, despite it being Maria’s last evening in Moville for some time.
‘How important is the frigate? he asked the lieutenant. ‘There’s still a fault in the engine room and it can’t go out tomorrow the way it is.’
‘It’s part of the convoy scheduled to leave at dawn.’
‘Well, I’ll stay to finish it,’ Sam said. ‘Con will give me a hand. There’s no need to keep the others. More than two will not fit in that small space anyway. But how will we get back home when we’ve finished? I don’t fancy walking.’
‘I’ll see if I can rustle up a couple of bicycles,’ the lieutenant said. ‘You can pile them in the truck in the morning. Will that do?’
‘Aye,’ Sam said with a chuckle, ‘though it’s years since I was astride a bike. I’ll more than likely have a sore backside in the morning.’
The lieutenant smiled. He liked both Sam and Con, and knew them to be first-rate workers, the sort who’d get on with the job in hand and not need the whip cracked over them.
‘I’m grateful, Sam,’ he said. He hesitated a moment and then went on, ‘There’s something else. Keep your eyes peeled, will you? There’s a rumour circulating the IRA are planning something.’
‘They’ll never get in here,’ Sam said. ‘Haven’t you the place as tight as a drum?’
‘They might, if they had help from inside.’
‘Who’d do that?’ Sam said and then as the man said nothing, burst out, ‘It’ll not be one of my men. I hope you’re not suggesting—’
‘No, no, I’m not. They came on your surety and that’s good enough for me, but I’m convinced if the IRA break in here, they’ll do it because someone from the inside will have helped them.’
‘They could cause havoc,’ Sam said. ‘Buggering up the boats could leave the merchant ships unprotected. Don’t they think of that?’
‘Obviously not.’
‘Well, I’ll keep my eyes and ears to the ground, never fear. Mind you, you’d have to have eyes like a cat to see anything in this blackness. Nights are certainly drawing in.’
The lieutenant agreed and watched as Sam walked over to the truck. Sam knew Con wouldn’t bat an eyelid at working over, but he told a couple in the truck to tell Sarah and Con’s wife, Brenda, where they were. ‘Don’t give them a time that we’ll be home,’ he cautioned. ‘I don’t know how long it will take us and I don’t want Sarah fretting.’
It was Andy Carmody, Bella’s nephew, who called at the Foley door later and told Sarah and Maria about Sam. Sarah knew her man and she recognised that, as the gaffer, the responsibility would lie on his shoulders. She was glad, though, when Andy told her Con was there too.
‘Pity,’ she said to Maria. ‘And on your last night too.’
‘It’s Daddy I feel sorry for,’ Maria said. ‘He’s already been at it for hours. The job must be urgent for him to stay. But I’m no wean any more; I understand these things.
In the engine room of the frigate, Sam and Con toiled away. The job was not difficult but the parts were tricky to reach and it was taking much longer than Sam had anticipated.
More than two hours after the others had left, Sam and Con tightened up the last bolt, wiped their oily hands on rags and climbed off the ship onto the dockside, where the lieutenant had left the bikes standing against a wall.
It was as they were pushing them to the gates that Sam heard the hoot of an owl, followed by a thud, as if a person or persons had landed on the deck of one of the ships.
‘What was that?’ Con asked.
‘I don’t know, but if that was an owl hooting just now, then I’m a Dutchman,’ Sam said. He recalled the conversation he’d had with the lieutenant that evening and knew he’d have to investigate the noise.
‘We’ll go together,’ Con said when Sam told him what the lieutenant had said.
‘No,’ Sam said. ‘Brenda will be waiting with your supper. You best go on home.’
‘Why don’t you call the dock police?’
‘I will,’ Sam said, ‘soon as I’m certain. Don’t worry, I’m not bursting in there myself like some unsung hero, but it’s just maybe two young fellows having a lark and I can send them home with boxed ears and no harm done. If I think it’s more serious, then I’ll get help quick. Don’t worry. Go on, I don’t intend spending one minute longer than necessary. I am fair jiggered and then it’s Maria’s last night. I’ll likely overtake you on the road.’
Con went. He knew Brenda would go for him when he reached home as it was. She had a fine temper on her when she wanted. But he was worried about Sam and told the policeman, as he let him out of the gates, what they’d heard.
‘I’m being relieved in less than ten minutes,’ the policeman reassured Con. ‘I’ll take a look for your mate before I go off, but he’ll likely contact us before then…‘
When Con left, Sam began walking stealthily to where he was sure the thudding noise had come from. He knew he had to be careful, especially when he left the quayside and boarded one of the ships moving gently in the water. His eyes strained to see in the darkness and he crept gingerly forward.
A pinprick of light alerted him first, a match and then the smell of cigarette smoke on the breeze and the soft murmur of voices. He couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He knew whoever the people were just ahead of him, they were not a couple of kids, but grown men probably intent on destruction, and the sooner he got off the boat and got help the better.
In his haste to turn round, he stumbled. He didn’t fall, but stood for a moment stock-still, wondering if the slight sound he’d made had alerted the men in any way.
There was no sound of pursuit, however, so Sam went on again. He crossed to a gunboat, which lay against the dockside wall. Thinking it a safer route, he was creeping round the deck of the boat, next to the wall, when his foot slipped and he fell with a thud onto the deck. He lay still for a moment, but he didn’t appear to be hurt anywhere, just winded. He began struggling to his feet.
There was a sudden thump in the middle of his back and, unbalanced as he was, he couldn’t save himself. He couldn’t prevent the cry that escaped from him. His hands clawed desperately at the air as he tumbled from the boat and hit the water with a splash.
The shock and cold of it took his breath away at first and then he began to thresh about, trying to find the side of the boat, anything to pull himself up. Suddenly the boat, jostled by its neighbour, moved slightly, crushing Sam against the harbour wall.
Sam screamed against the agonising pain, but the boat pinned him effectively and what came out was just a groan. He knew he would die, there in the dockside. The pain of leaving Sarah and Maria, and the thought of what they’d do if he wasn’t there to see to them caused him to close his eyes against encroaching death.
By the time the policeman went off duty, Sam was unconscious and the dockyard as silent as a grave, the only sound that of the lap of water as the boats moved against the swell. He called for Sam—more urgently when he found his bicycle still propped against the wall—but there was no answer. In the end he went into the barracks room and reported that Sam was missing.
The lieutenant who had spoken to him earlier that evening was more worried than anyone. He led the search for Sam Foley, but in the light of the shaded torches, all that the Government allowed in the blackout, to search for anyone was a miserable and probably pointless task.
Despite the message sent with one of his colleagues, Conrad’s wife berated him soundly for the time he’d got home, hours after the others. ‘There was a job to finish. I’m second in