the docks when I left.’
‘Why?’
‘He heard a noise and went to have a closer look.’
‘What sort of noise?’
‘Any noise would be unusual in a dockyard that is supposed to be deserted.’
‘On his own?’
‘Aye,’ Con said. ‘The police and military are almost within calling distance and military police patrol the dock every hour or so.’
‘Well, then, what harm could come to him? Isn’t he surrounded by people?’
‘I know. I’d just like to check.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Brenda said. ‘Isn’t Sam a grown man?’
‘I know, but—’
I know, I know…Dear Christ, if Sam suggested you leap in the fire, you’d likely consider it,’ Brenda said scathingly. She was jealous of the deep regard the two men had for one another and always had been. ‘It’s not Sam Foley you’re married to, a fact you seem to forget at times. I see little enough of you. The only place you’ll go this night is to your bed with me.’
Con, seeing the set of his wife’s mouth, wondered what would happen if he was just to put on his coat and push past her to still the tug of anxiety he had for Sam. But Brenda’s temper was such that he seldom defied her and he was too weary himself to start a fight, which he knew from experience could go on for hours. So he shrugged.
‘As you like,’ he said. ‘But, it’s not unusual to be concerned for a mate.’
The knot of worry stayed with Con, even after he’d climbed the stairs and into bed, where he lay wide awake.
By half-past ten, Sarah became concerned. Andy had told them Sam would be late, but did he mean as late as this? She hated Sam to be in Derry long after dark in case there was a raid.
Derry had been attacked only the once, and that had been on the previous Easter Tuesday. The sirens were plainly heard in Moville, but in the end there was just one bomber, which dropped two parachute mines. The newspapers reported that the pilot was trying to bomb the river, but he missed that and the mines landed in the Messine’s Park area of the city, killing thirteen people and injuring thirty-three.
Yet the city had got away lightly, because that same night, Belfast had been blitzed, leaving over nine hundred people dead. Sarah was always worrying that it might be Derry’s turn next.
She put down her knitting and sat with her hands in her lap, listening.
Maria put down the book she’d been reading and watched her mother with concern. She too was anxious about her father and yet she knew she had to shield her anxiety from her mother. It had always been that way. ‘Shall I put the wireless on, Mammy?’
‘No, child, I have no heart for it.’
‘I’ll make a cup of tea for us then, shall I?’
Sarah didn’t answer. Instead, her brooding eyes met those of her daughter. ‘I didn’t think your daddy would be this late,’ she said.
‘Maybe he stopped off at Rafferty’s for a drink?’ Maria said, though she knew her father had never done such a thing before.
Sarah shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t. He’d know we’d be concerned. And particularly tonight, your last night. He’d come straight home.’
‘Maybe the job was more difficult than he thought,’ Maria said soothingly. ‘Would you like me to go and look for him, maybe have a talk with some of the men?’
‘What good will that do?’
‘You never know.’
‘Oh, go if you want to.’
Maria was glad to be out of the house and doing something. She went first to see Andy Carmody, only to find he’d gone to Rafferty’s pub. She made her way there uncertainly. She’d never been in a pub in her life. It wasn’t done; the bar was the prerogative of the men. Maybe in Dublin it was customary for women to visit the pub, but it wasn’t in Moville.
She was hovering outside the door when Barney McPhearson left the pub, on his way home.
‘Why, Maria, what is it?’ he said, knowing only a matter of importance would have brought Maria there, and at that time of night.
Maria told him of her father’s absence. ‘Andy Carmody came with news he would be late,’ she went on, ‘and I’ve been to the house, but his mother said he’d gone to Rafferty’s. I just wondered if he knew anything more. We’re worried.’
With reason, Barney thought, with the time going on for eleven. But he didn’t say this. What he did say was, ‘Well, we’ll soon find out, Maria. Young Andy is in there and I’ll bring him out to talk to you.’
But Andy knew no more, though he did tell Maria that Conrad had been with him. That thought comforted Maria. At least he wasn’t alone.
‘D’you want to go up to see if Con’s wife has further news?’ Barney said. Maria nodded. However, when they arrived the house was in darkness. She hesitated. Was it likely Brenda would go to bed if Con hadn’t returned?
Some women might doze in the chair, but nearly all would be ready with a hot meal when their husbands did appear. So, full of trepidation, Maria knocked on the door.
Afterwards, Con was to say the knock barely surprised him. It was as if he’d been half expecting it. He was out of bed in seconds, taking time only to pull his trousers over his linings before he answered. He was aghast when he learnt that Sam hadn’t come home. He told Maria what he knew.
‘Wait, I’ll get dressed properly,’ he said. ‘We need to go down there and find out what’s happened.’
‘You must go home and support your mother,’ Barney said to Maria. ‘We’ll be away to Derry as soon as it can be organised. Try not to worry. We’ll find your father.’
She went home slowly, dreading to face her mother, for a heavy apprehension had settled inside her. Even then, with worry for her father gnawing away inside, she thought of the Academy and was consumed with guilt for even giving a thought to herself. The Academy and her future didn’t matter any more, she told herself firmly; the only thing that mattered was finding out what had happened to her father. She told Sarah what she knew, which was precious little. Sarah stared at her in shock and sudden petrifying fear, but she said not a word. Maria enfolded her mother’s frozen hands in her own, sat her down in the chair and made her a strong cup of tea, putting lots of sugar in, for she had heard it was good for shock.
As the news about Sam Foley spread around the village, men left unfinished pints or clambered from the bed they’d just got into. Those who owned carts harnessed horses to them and a good contingent of the men of the village clattered away in three carts as the church clock struck midnight.
Maria would have preferred to go with them. She always thought waiting for news the hardest job of all, but she knew she couldn’t leave her mother. They sat in silence, listening to the tick of the clock and the peat settling in the hearth, Maria feeling sick to her stomach as the time passed slowly.
It had been half-past two when, hampered by the blackout, they’d found Sam, and half-past three before Barney McPhearson pounded on the Foleys’ door.
Sarah’s face was ravaged with worry, the puffiness around her eyes evidence of the time she’d spent weeping, but when Maria got to her feet to answer the door, Sarah stopped her. This was something she had to do herself.
Barney almost fell in the door, snatching his cap off his head as he did so.
He