A Country Without War

by Anne Mac Darby-Beck

It was Niamh’s first time over the border.  She sat forward between the seats and “ohed” and “ahed” at everything.  The road signs and markings were different. 

“Why is there no Irish on the signs?” she asked.

“Technically we are in a different country,” he said, “they don’t use Irish up here.”

“But it’s still Ireland,” she said.

The curse of having a curious child, he thought.  She did concede that the sheep looked the same.  They had passed over the border without much difficulty.  The British soldiers were nice enough.  Now travelling up a country road towards the coast, all was quiet and serene.  You’d never think there was a war going on.  But then some people didn’t call it a war.  

He had to slam on the brakes so suddenly that he fell forward over the steering wheel.  He looked back at Niamh.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.  She looked fine, her attention already moving to the soldiers surrounding the car.  They had appeared out of nowhere and now were standing around the car looking at his registration, rifles cocked. He rolled down the window.   Before he could say “hello” he was curtly asked for identification.  He handed the soldier their passports.  Looking at himself in the mirror he thought he had better remove his sunglasses.  He and Niamh looked like a ‘RA family out for a drive.

“Bain do spéaclaí, a cailín,” he told her quietly.  She did as she was told.

“What are you doing in Northern Ireland?” the soldier asked.

“Up for the weekend visiting a few friends in Portgraw.”  

They were ordered out of the car.  He had to remove their luggage and open it.  The soldiers went through the luggage, the boot and even under the bonnet.  He had to give them Maureen’s name and address, careful to make no mention of Teddy.  In the end, looking somewhat disappointed, the soldier in charge told him he could go.  

“Enjoy your stay,” he said.  Brendan didn’t answer.

He loaded their luggage and strapped Niamh into her seat, while the soldiers looked on.  As he drove away, he checked his rear-view mirror and saw them jump over the ditch back into the field.

“That was exciting,” Niamh said, “wait till I tell them at school.”

He shook his head and laughed.  

“You’re a gas young one,” he said.

As they drove through the townland before Portgraw, with its Union Jacks and painted footpaths, Niamh sat forward again, taking it all in.  They passed the estate gates and turned into the drive at Maureen and Teddy’s gate lodge.  He could hear Teddy shouting and their two dogs barking madly.

“They’re here, Maureen, they’re here,” Teddy shouted as she ran out of the cottage and grabbed Brendan in a bear hug.  Mad as ever, Brendan noted.  She dragged Niamh from the car. 

“Look at you, look at you!  You’re twice the size you were last time I saw you.”

“I am not,” Niamh squealed, as Teddy threw her up in the air.  Maureen came out of the house, serene and laid back as ever, hugging him for ages and asking for Bríd.  In a whirl of bustle and questions, each only half answered, they got their things and went into the house.  Tea was made and questions asked again in a more orderly manner, until the conversation slowly faded.  Niamh watched Teddy juggling coloured balls while the dogs bounced up and down, trying to catch them mid-air. 

“So how have things been around here?” Brendan asked.  

Maureen shrugged.  

“No one dead lately,” she said, “our little Catholic enclave is pretty much surrounded and at a time like this, everyone lives on their nerves.  I’m surprised Bríd allowed you to bring Niamh, with what’s been happening.”

He watched Niamh play with the dogs.  Before he crossed the border it had seemed like a good idea to bring her north.  Bríd was going on a meditation course for the whole weekend so he decided to take the opportunity to visit his old flame and bring his daughter with him.  Their attention was drawn outside.  Three RUC officers, one female and two males, were walking through the gates of the estate and down the road by the lodge.  They looked in and the female officer waved and smiled.  Teddy, wearing a bright smile and waving back muttered through clenched teeth, “go on yer way ye fuckers”.  Niamh began to imitate her.

“Niamh,” Brendan said warningly, “Teddy is being naughty and there’s no need for you to follow suit.”

Niamh put her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

As usual, it took Teddy and Maureen ages to get dinner ready and Niamh was in her pyjamas before they finally got food into their stomachs.  The minute she laid her head down she was asleep.  After she went to bed, Brendan and the two women sat around the fire and talked.  

“We’re going out tomorrow night,” Maureen said, “they’re having a trad session in the pub. Teddy is going to drive.”

“But what about Niamh?” Brendan said.

“All sorted,” Teddy said, “a friend of ours, Skate, is coming for the night.  She’s going to stay with Niamh.  You’ve heard us mention her”.

Brendan gaped at her.

“Is that the mad one you had to rescue from some UVF woman?”

Maureen tutted.

“She’s not mad.  She had a terrible upbringing and her getting involved with that woman was her way of punishing herself because her father …….”

The one thing Brendan remembered about their time together was Maureen’s never-ending rationalisations.  Even before she decided to go into counselling it was obvious she had the therapist gene.  She used to drive him mad when he’d give out about someone and she would smugly tell him that it wasn’t about so and so, it was about his wounded inner child.  He cut across her mid-stream.

“So you’re telling me this woman is ok to mind my only child while I’m getting pissed in the pub?

“Exactly,” Maureen said, “kids love her; she’ll keep Niamh endlessly amused.”

Yes, thought Brendan, kids love her because, by the sound of things, she’s half a child herself.  Still a night out would be nice.  He hadn’t been out in ages.

They spent the next day wandering around the estate and the seashore.  They had lunch in a nice café by the pier.  As they drove back to the lodge that evening, Skate was coming in the opposite direction with her rucksack on her back, after getting off some bus or train.  When she was introduced to Brendan she avoided eye contact and only murmured something inaudible.  However, with Niamh, she instantly went into quiet conversation and, taking her hand, turned from the “grown-ups” and headed into the house.  Brendan watched them later as they played outside.  Maureen was right; she really had a way with the child.  He felt better about leaving Niamh with her.  There was a phone in the house and Maureen gave Skate the number of the pub.  In this neck of the woods, bar owners made it their business to answer phones.

After supper, the three of them went down to the pub.  After a few pints he phoned Niamh.  He could hear the dogs barking and Niamh said she and Skate were making bubbles.  Happy that all was ok he went back to the group of Maureen’s friends. Brendan assumed the women were all gay until one woman began to take an obvious interest in him.  Maureen was protective as usual, despite being somewhat tipsy. 

“Keep your hands off my old flame,” she said, “he’s happily married.”

The other woman was surprised.

“You were in a relationship with a man!” she said wide-eyed.

Maureen went into a fit of laughing but Brendan could see Teddy was not amused.  

“Brendan was my first love,” she said, “I was with him when I began to realise I liked women better.”

Brendan no longer minded remembering that time.  He had moved on since and the hurt of it had been well healed by his Bríd.  However he could see Teddy, always uncomfortable in a pub when sober, was annoyed.  Maureen didn’t do it to be nasty, she hadn’t a mean bone in her body, but sometimes, especially with drink on board, she could be careless.  And Teddy was the jealous type.  He spotted a man at the bar with a county jersey and went over for a chat.  They were listening to the music when the man lowered his voice.

“How are yous getting home tonight?” he asked.

“Teddy is driving,” Brendan said.  

The man laughed.

“I don’t think so!  She’s on her second pint.”

He started and turned towards the group of women.  A pint glass in front of Teddy was nearly empty and he could see Maureen sitting beside her, trying to make up for her carelessness earlier.  Teddy still looked cross.  When Teddy got up to go to the loo, he went over to Maureen.  

“I thought Teddy was staying off the booze to drive us home?” he said, “my little one is there with Skate and we won’t get a lift from here”

“Don’t get on to Teddy,” Maureen said, “she’s not in a good mood.  We can walk home.  We’ll take the back road out of the village, go the old lane the army closed and cut home through the estate.”

Brendan groaned.  

“Don’t worry,” Maureen said, “we’ll be fine.”   

He phoned home again and found things in order there.  The girls were watching a Disney video Skate had brought and were quite happy.  With an admonition not to stay up late, he hung up the phone.

Later that night, with all danger forgotten, the trio walked the back road out of the village, Brendan with his arms around each woman, shushing Teddy when she tried to sing.  It was hard to walk when drunk but even harder with two drunken women in tow. They crossed over a ditch and into the disused lane.  It was even darker in the lane.  They stumbled along, the two women giggling and telling Brendan off each time they lost their footing.  

When Brendan looked up, he saw the lights of a car in the distance, as if the car was on the same road as them.  He thought it must be another road, within line of sight of the lane, that created the illusion.  Suddenly, a dark shape emerged out of the gloom.  He halted so quickly the women almost fell over.  Teddy was about to protest but he quickly put his hand over her mouth and whispered for them to shush.  Well trained for emergencies they obeyed at once, both stiffening.  The lights of the car disappeared. Then the lights appeared again, and it was then they all saw the shape of a Land Rover ahead.  Inside, Brendan could see three figures and on their shoulders the lapels of their uniforms.  The only sound was the low intake of three breaths in unison.   Brendan gripped the two women with all his upper body strength and slowly stepped backwards, one step at a time.  He began to sweat; it ran down his face and his heart beat like a drum.  He stepped slowly back bringing the women with him.  He was sobering up and he was sure they were feeling the same, given the sudden surefootedness of both.  When they had moved back far enough he bent down bringing the women with him and looked around.  In the gloom he thought he saw a gap in the hedge.  He steered them towards it, trying not to make a sound.  Slowly and as quietly as possible he pushed Maureen and then Teddy through the gap.  Stoically both women didn’t protest though, when he pushed through himself, he felt the thorns tear at his face and realised he should have gone through first.  They stepped slowly through the field, Brendan counting each step and when they were far enough away he took their hands and began to run.

It took an hour of stumbling and falling trying to find a way back to the estate. Inside the estate they skirted the park until Teddy found the gap in the hedge and they were at the lodge gate.  The light was still on in the warm, popcorn-smelling kitchen.  Brendan hurried to the back room where Niamh was.  For a moment his breath stopped in his throat when he saw the bed was empty.  Then he saw the lump on the floor where Skate was tucked up in a sleeping bag with her arm around Niamh, both sleeping soundly.  He went back to the kitchen.  Maureen was slumped in a chair, crying quietly.  Teddy took a bottle of vodka from a press and got some glasses.  Maureen dried her eyes.

“Is Niamh alright?” she asked.  He nodded.

They drank their way through the bottle without hardly saying anything and went to bed when it was finished.

Brendan woke suddenly the next morning, his head pounding.  He heard Niamh and Skate laughing in the kitchen.  He got up and found them making pancakes.  

“Do you want a pancake Daddy?” Niamh asked. “Will you go out for rashers and sausages?  There’s none in the house and we want a rasher sandwich.”

There was no sign of Maureen or Teddy so he decided to walk to the village.  He felt the walk might do him good.  As he went down the road, the sun came out from behind the clouds and everything looked bright and cheerful.  He went into the shop at the petrol station and picked up eggs, rashers and sausages.  As he went to the till he met the man from the night before.  After they had exchanged pleasantries the man lowered his voice.

“Did yous get home alright last night?” he asked.

Brendan shifted his feet, hugged the food tighter to his chest and said they did.  The man lowered his voice still further.

“That’s good. I was thinking of ye walking home.”  He looked about him.  “There was a shooting on the farm behind the estate last night.  Young Tom O’Brien was shot dead in front of the wife.”

For a moment Brendan thought his legs would buckle, his head swam and the pounding returned, his stomach came up in his throat.  He paid for the food and walked back.  While he sat at the table Skate cooked the food and the two women arrived in pyjamas just in time to eat it.  Neither woman showed any signs of the ordeal of the previous night.  They ate a hearty breakfast.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” Niamh asked, “do you not like the pancake?”

He smiled and stroked her head.

When Skate and Niamh went outside to practice juggling, Brendan passed on the news to Maureen and Teddy.  They both fell silent 

“Fuck!” Teddy said, “thank God for your eyes, Brendan.” 

They packed up their things and both cars headed to the village for lunch.  They said goodbye outside the pub.   Brendan thanked Skate for looking after Niamh.

“Skate is coming to visit us, Daddy,” Niamh said, hugging her new friend.  

Skate smiled shyly and looked pleased but Brendan wondered if she would ever come south.  Would he ever come north again?  He had the urge suddenly to bundle them all into the car and head towards the border.  Waving and shouting goodbye, Brendan drove away.  As it was Sunday, the roads were quiet enough.  As the border loomed, his headache returned, and was so bad he could hardly see the road.  However, they crossed without much difficulty.    On the other side he had to pull in quickly and get out of the car. Niamh was sleeping and woke up when they stopped.  She rolled down the window.

“What’s wrong Daddy,” she called.  

Wiping the sweat from his face he turned to her and smiled.  

“I’m alright love,” he said.

He walked to the roadside fence, leaned on it and looked out across the fields, the pounding in his head easing.  How do you explain to a child, he thought, the relief of returning to a country without war?