Dublin 4, with organic vegetables and clothes from Brown Thomas? ‘Mrs De Rossa. I understand you want to distance yourself from your family.’
‘My childhood,’ she corrected. ‘I made my own family here, with Dermot and the weans.’
‘OK. But we can’t find anyone who knows a thing about your father. He left the IRA, I gather, after the Good Friday Agreement?’
‘Yes, he was very angry. We – we still spoke, back then. He felt I’d betrayed him, you see. When I left mostly I gave up following politics. I thought there was enough fighting and blood spilled. My weans – I didn’t want them part of all that. I wanted them safe.’
‘And when did you find out about his role in the bomb, his alleged role, I mean?’
Roisin lowered her gaze, biting her lip. ‘I had no idea. Really, I don’t – I mean, he was political, and he talked the talk, but to do that . . .’ Paula realised she was angry. ‘I was pregnant at the time. With my second. And that wee baby who was killed . . . Oh God.’ She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘I’m not asking anyone to be sorry for me, not when all those poor people died, but it was awful, just awful.’
‘I can imagine. So who told you about it?’
‘It was on the news. We were having our dinner and Dermot said turn that up, and I was carrying a bowl of couscous and didn’t I drop it down on the flagstones and it broke everywhere. Sixteen dead – and then his picture came up. They said maybe it was linked to his group.’
‘Did you believe it?’
‘Not at first. I rang him. I was in hysterics. Daddy, I said, they’re saying it’s you. Did you do it? He was quiet. He didn’t say no. Then he said, you should get off the line, Roisin. That was it. So – I knew. We flew to France the next day for a month. Dermot has a sister there. It was—’ She got a hold of herself. ‘So I didn’t talk to him after that. And the trial and all . . . I didn’t go. I stopped watching the news and we don’t take the papers. Dermot takes them in the office, but I told him he’s to tell me nothing. Unless Daddy actually dies.’ She looked at Paula suddenly. ‘Is that—’
‘We don’t know that he’s dead. But we’ve found the body of one of the accused Five, and the others are still missing. We couldn’t find anyone who really knew your father. Is there any other family?’
‘Mammy’s dead. Thank God. She never believed he’d hurt a fly.’
It was especially sad to be glad your own mother was dead, and this made Paula feel a certain kinship to the woman. She’d often thought it would be better to know for sure that her own mother was dead, if it was peaceful, if it would have been quick. She shifted again; she needed to pee. ‘Did you know any of the others? Catherine Ni Chonnaill – she’s not much older than you.’
Roisin’s lips tightened further. ‘Mammy used to say that woman would shoot her own baby for a united Ireland. She’s evil. Pure evil.’
And probably also dead, Paula thought. ‘So you can’t think of anyone your father might have talked to, spent time with?’
‘I wouldn’t know. But he cut a lot of ties after the bomb. Even the Republican hardliners, the Thirty-two County Sovereignty Movement and the Continuity lot, they felt it was botched. The warnings weren’t right, it went off too early. There was no need for civilians to die, and it cost them a lot of support in the States. That sort of thing.’
How did she know this, if she hadn’t spoken to him since 2006? ‘Roisin. He got in touch, didn’t he?’
‘No, I . . .’
‘Please. When was it?’
She sagged. Her voice came from somewhere near her feet. ‘A week ago. The day that he – went.’
Right before they’d disappeared. Paula leaned forward. ‘What did he say?’
‘Oh, I don’t – I didn’t know it was him, of course, or I wouldn’t have answered . . . I told him never to call and he didn’t have the number, I thought – but it was him.
‘My childhood,’ she corrected. ‘I made my own family here, with Dermot and the weans.’
‘OK. But we can’t find anyone who knows a thing about your father. He left the IRA, I gather, after the Good Friday Agreement?’
‘Yes, he was very angry. We – we still spoke, back then. He felt I’d betrayed him, you see. When I left mostly I gave up following politics. I thought there was enough fighting and blood spilled. My weans – I didn’t want them part of all that. I wanted them safe.’
‘And when did you find out about his role in the bomb, his alleged role, I mean?’
Roisin lowered her gaze, biting her lip. ‘I had no idea. Really, I don’t – I mean, he was political, and he talked the talk, but to do that . . .’ Paula realised she was angry. ‘I was pregnant at the time. With my second. And that wee baby who was killed . . . Oh God.’ She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘I’m not asking anyone to be sorry for me, not when all those poor people died, but it was awful, just awful.’
‘I can imagine. So who told you about it?’
‘It was on the news. We were having our dinner and Dermot said turn that up, and I was carrying a bowl of couscous and didn’t I drop it down on the flagstones and it broke everywhere. Sixteen dead – and then his picture came up. They said maybe it was linked to his group.’
‘Did you believe it?’
‘Not at first. I rang him. I was in hysterics. Daddy, I said, they’re saying it’s you. Did you do it? He was quiet. He didn’t say no. Then he said, you should get off the line, Roisin. That was it. So – I knew. We flew to France the next day for a month. Dermot has a sister there. It was—’ She got a hold of herself. ‘So I didn’t talk to him after that. And the trial and all . . . I didn’t go. I stopped watching the news and we don’t take the papers. Dermot takes them in the office, but I told him he’s to tell me nothing. Unless Daddy actually dies.’ She looked at Paula suddenly. ‘Is that—’
‘We don’t know that he’s dead. But we’ve found the body of one of the accused Five, and the others are still missing. We couldn’t find anyone who really knew your father. Is there any other family?’
‘Mammy’s dead. Thank God. She never believed he’d hurt a fly.’
It was especially sad to be glad your own mother was dead, and this made Paula feel a certain kinship to the woman. She’d often thought it would be better to know for sure that her own mother was dead, if it was peaceful, if it would have been quick. She shifted again; she needed to pee. ‘Did you know any of the others? Catherine Ni Chonnaill – she’s not much older than you.’
Roisin’s lips tightened further. ‘Mammy used to say that woman would shoot her own baby for a united Ireland. She’s evil. Pure evil.’
And probably also dead, Paula thought. ‘So you can’t think of anyone your father might have talked to, spent time with?’
‘I wouldn’t know. But he cut a lot of ties after the bomb. Even the Republican hardliners, the Thirty-two County Sovereignty Movement and the Continuity lot, they felt it was botched. The warnings weren’t right, it went off too early. There was no need for civilians to die, and it cost them a lot of support in the States. That sort of thing.’
How did she know this, if she hadn’t spoken to him since 2006? ‘Roisin. He got in touch, didn’t he?’
‘No, I . . .’
‘Please. When was it?’
She sagged. Her voice came from somewhere near her feet. ‘A week ago. The day that he – went.’
Right before they’d disappeared. Paula leaned forward. ‘What did he say?’
‘Oh, I don’t – I didn’t know it was him, of course, or I wouldn’t have answered . . . I told him never to call and he didn’t have the number, I thought – but it was him.
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