done before it. He needed all the sleep he could get, but it wouldn’t come to him.
How was it that in his fifteen years of life his mother had never spoken to him about her father? Even more amazing was that he had never thought to ask her; never even been curious. Did it happen in other families as well? Did all parents construct a mental map for their children, with huge areas of their lives outside its borders? Did every family have hidden territories, so cleverly concealed that they became completely invisible?
As if disappearing fathers and priests weren’t enough, J.J. was worried about his friendship with Jimmy as well. They had been pals since primary school. He had forgiven Jimmy for what he had saidabout his great-grandfather. Sometime in the future he might even talk to him about it; tell him the Liddy side of the story. But in the meantime there was the problem of the club. Jimmy had swallowed his pride to invite him. It was a peace offering, and if J.J. rejected it by not turning up, there might never be another chance to mend the friendship.
He turned over in bed. A heavy, windblown shower galloped across the roof, paused, then galloped back again. He’d have to come up with an excuse for Jimmy. Maybe he could pretend to be ill? No. It wouldn’t work. Too many people would see him playing at the céilí. What if he just said his parents wouldn’t allow him to go? Blame them? Complain about them?
He couldn’t do it. Another time, perhaps, but not just now. He couldn’t betray the trust his mother had placed in him that evening. He could see her face now, the vulnerability in it as she talked about her father. She had never, ever seen him. There was a hole in her life where he ought to have been.
J.J. would make it up to her. He would be there beside her tomorrow, playing for the house dance; honoring all the Liddys that had gone before him. He was determined to do something else for her as well. He would get her what she wanted for her birthday.He didn’t know how he would do it, but one way or another he was going to buy her some time.
It was three o’clock in the morning when the new policeman finally rolled out of the pub. His memory was never his strongest feature, but he had an uneasy feeling that at some point during the last three hours he had threatened Mary Green with arrest if she didn’t bring the musicians another drink. And then another.
He had danced as well. Patrick O’Hare had been responsible for that, announcing it to the whole room and calling for a clear space without even warning him first. Sergeant Early would not be impressed. With luck, the event would not come to his notice. There was nothing he could do about it now, anyway.
A light drizzle was falling as he walked up the street. He hoped it wouldn’t penetrate the fiddle case, because there was no question of getting back into the car. He wasn’t drunk, exactly, but even without any drink in him at all he wasn’t certain that he could be considered fit to drive. The car could stay where it was. He was off duty for the next two days and had no plans for going anywhere. And as for getting home, he didn’t need it for that, either.
----
TOMORROW MORNING
Trad
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17
It poured rain all morning. The goats stood in their shelter, looking gloomy and steadfastly refusing to go near the “haylage” they were offered.
“They can do without,” said Ciaran. “They’ll eat it if they get hungry enough.”
“They might,” said Helen. “And we might wind up having to buy more hay.”
J.J. fed the kids. They were getting big and rebellious now, standing on their hind legs to look over the bottom door of their shed and shoving J.J. around when he came in with their buckets of milk. It was high time to wean them and turn them out with the rest of the herd.
When he’d finished, J.J. took a shower and laid his books out on the kitchen table. There was a historyessay that should have been finished by the
How was it that in his fifteen years of life his mother had never spoken to him about her father? Even more amazing was that he had never thought to ask her; never even been curious. Did it happen in other families as well? Did all parents construct a mental map for their children, with huge areas of their lives outside its borders? Did every family have hidden territories, so cleverly concealed that they became completely invisible?
As if disappearing fathers and priests weren’t enough, J.J. was worried about his friendship with Jimmy as well. They had been pals since primary school. He had forgiven Jimmy for what he had saidabout his great-grandfather. Sometime in the future he might even talk to him about it; tell him the Liddy side of the story. But in the meantime there was the problem of the club. Jimmy had swallowed his pride to invite him. It was a peace offering, and if J.J. rejected it by not turning up, there might never be another chance to mend the friendship.
He turned over in bed. A heavy, windblown shower galloped across the roof, paused, then galloped back again. He’d have to come up with an excuse for Jimmy. Maybe he could pretend to be ill? No. It wouldn’t work. Too many people would see him playing at the céilí. What if he just said his parents wouldn’t allow him to go? Blame them? Complain about them?
He couldn’t do it. Another time, perhaps, but not just now. He couldn’t betray the trust his mother had placed in him that evening. He could see her face now, the vulnerability in it as she talked about her father. She had never, ever seen him. There was a hole in her life where he ought to have been.
J.J. would make it up to her. He would be there beside her tomorrow, playing for the house dance; honoring all the Liddys that had gone before him. He was determined to do something else for her as well. He would get her what she wanted for her birthday.He didn’t know how he would do it, but one way or another he was going to buy her some time.
It was three o’clock in the morning when the new policeman finally rolled out of the pub. His memory was never his strongest feature, but he had an uneasy feeling that at some point during the last three hours he had threatened Mary Green with arrest if she didn’t bring the musicians another drink. And then another.
He had danced as well. Patrick O’Hare had been responsible for that, announcing it to the whole room and calling for a clear space without even warning him first. Sergeant Early would not be impressed. With luck, the event would not come to his notice. There was nothing he could do about it now, anyway.
A light drizzle was falling as he walked up the street. He hoped it wouldn’t penetrate the fiddle case, because there was no question of getting back into the car. He wasn’t drunk, exactly, but even without any drink in him at all he wasn’t certain that he could be considered fit to drive. The car could stay where it was. He was off duty for the next two days and had no plans for going anywhere. And as for getting home, he didn’t need it for that, either.
----
TOMORROW MORNING
Trad
----
17
It poured rain all morning. The goats stood in their shelter, looking gloomy and steadfastly refusing to go near the “haylage” they were offered.
“They can do without,” said Ciaran. “They’ll eat it if they get hungry enough.”
“They might,” said Helen. “And we might wind up having to buy more hay.”
J.J. fed the kids. They were getting big and rebellious now, standing on their hind legs to look over the bottom door of their shed and shoving J.J. around when he came in with their buckets of milk. It was high time to wean them and turn them out with the rest of the herd.
When he’d finished, J.J. took a shower and laid his books out on the kitchen table. There was a historyessay that should have been finished by the
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