Bold Fenian Men
Chapter Forty-One
"What?" Padraig asked bluntly.
"I know now's probably not the best time to tell you, Padraig." Roisin said apologetically. "But I needed to tell you sooner rather than later, and now you're back working as Commander again, I'll probably not see you as much as I'd like, between your work, my work, and me being a Volunteer as well."
"Well, the first thing you're doing is staying off active service."
"What?" It was Roisin's turn to ask a question bluntly.
"I'm not having you running about getting shot at." Padraig suddenly smiled, excitement growing inside him. He moved closer to Roisin and put his arms round her, kissing her gently on the lips and smiling. "Not now you're carrying our child."
Padraig gently put his hand on Roisin's stomach, hardly able to believe that the little baby growing inside her was his. Padraig Caraher … a father. He never thought he'd see the day. Roisin smiled as well.
"We're going to be parents," she whispered.
"Scary, isn't it?" Padraig asked. Roisin nodded, and then she giggled.
"Exciting, as well." she said. "I tell you, Padraig, there'll be a lot out there jealous of me!" Padraig smiled.
"I don't know. I wouldn't want to be carrying him or her. It'll probably try and shoot us all before it's born." Padraig laughed.
"No joining up if it's a he. Not until he's sixteen." Roisin said firmly to Padraig. Padraig laughed again.
"I think it's a little early to be thinking about our baby joining up." Padraig rubbed her belly. "Let's just get it here, first."
~
Padraig had to push all thoughts of the baby to the back of his mind over the next few weeks. Things were rougher than they'd ever been, and Padraig was once again masterminding it all.
But he knew what would happen eventually, and he knew that it would soon be a fair fight, with no people doing their dirty work for them. He knew sooner or later that it would be he and McAllister, with no one to help either of them. He just wished that it would hurry up and happen, because he was fed up of putting his comrades' lives in danger.
Cearnaigh was back now, but he wasn't as active as he had been. Padraig knew that the bomb blast had scarred his friend mentally for life, and the haunted look in Cearnaigh's eyes would never leave. He was missing two fingers of his left hand – a constant reminder of what had happened to him.
And then one day the event happened that Padraig knew was going to end it all one way or another.
"What?" he asked irritably, grabbing up the phone as it rang in the corner of the pub. He was in the middle of planning something major, and couldn't be bothered with simple things. But this was far from simple.
"All right, Padraig?" Padraig recognised the voice instantly and felt his blood boil, but he didn't show it in his voice.
"Ah, Billy. Just the guy. Had a good week?" he smirked, knowing exactly what a bad week McAllister must have had, considering the blowing up of half of a UVF unit by Padraig's crew earlier that week.
"Not been bad." Padraig could hear the hatred in McAllister's voice clearly. "I've got a little proposition for you."
"Have you now?" Padraig chuckled. "Well, let's hear it. I need a good laugh."
"Well, Caraher. The laugh is on you, because you're going to agree. We want a full ceasefire in Belfast. Call the IRA into a ceasefire, or see what'll happen." Padraig laughed.
"Give me one good reason why I should."
"You will, if you ever want to see your girl again." Padraig's heart plummeted into his stomach and suddenly everything went a bit hazy. He felt dizzy with shock.
"What?" he asked.
"We have Roisin. Don't worry yourself, Padraig old friend, she'll be quite all right as long as you meet all of our demands. Call a ceasefire now, or little Roisin will suffer the consequences."
"Jesus Christ, you sick bastard, she's a pregnant woman!"
"Even better. If you want your child to live as well, then you'd better hurry up and call a ceasefire. And the you can show yourself."
"Show myself? Oh really? How many of your little mates will you have round the corner?" Padraig spat.
"Do you want Roisin to live?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then do it. You know where to meet us." Padraig did indeed know – the same pub that they'd nearly killed him in. Padraig paused, a million and one thoughts going through his head, and then he slammed the phone down.
"All right, everyone!" he yelled, and the whole pub, which was filled with IRA men, turned to look at him. "Everyone get your weapons. They've got Roisin and we're going to shoot them out. Let's go."
"I know now's probably not the best time to tell you, Padraig." Roisin said apologetically. "But I needed to tell you sooner rather than later, and now you're back working as Commander again, I'll probably not see you as much as I'd like, between your work, my work, and me being a Volunteer as well."
"Well, the first thing you're doing is staying off active service."
"What?" It was Roisin's turn to ask a question bluntly.
"I'm not having you running about getting shot at." Padraig suddenly smiled, excitement growing inside him. He moved closer to Roisin and put his arms round her, kissing her gently on the lips and smiling. "Not now you're carrying our child."
Padraig gently put his hand on Roisin's stomach, hardly able to believe that the little baby growing inside her was his. Padraig Caraher … a father. He never thought he'd see the day. Roisin smiled as well.
"We're going to be parents," she whispered.
"Scary, isn't it?" Padraig asked. Roisin nodded, and then she giggled.
"Exciting, as well." she said. "I tell you, Padraig, there'll be a lot out there jealous of me!" Padraig smiled.
"I don't know. I wouldn't want to be carrying him or her. It'll probably try and shoot us all before it's born." Padraig laughed.
"No joining up if it's a he. Not until he's sixteen." Roisin said firmly to Padraig. Padraig laughed again.
"I think it's a little early to be thinking about our baby joining up." Padraig rubbed her belly. "Let's just get it here, first."
~
Padraig had to push all thoughts of the baby to the back of his mind over the next few weeks. Things were rougher than they'd ever been, and Padraig was once again masterminding it all.
But he knew what would happen eventually, and he knew that it would soon be a fair fight, with no people doing their dirty work for them. He knew sooner or later that it would be he and McAllister, with no one to help either of them. He just wished that it would hurry up and happen, because he was fed up of putting his comrades' lives in danger.
Cearnaigh was back now, but he wasn't as active as he had been. Padraig knew that the bomb blast had scarred his friend mentally for life, and the haunted look in Cearnaigh's eyes would never leave. He was missing two fingers of his left hand – a constant reminder of what had happened to him.
And then one day the event happened that Padraig knew was going to end it all one way or another.
"What?" he asked irritably, grabbing up the phone as it rang in the corner of the pub. He was in the middle of planning something major, and couldn't be bothered with simple things. But this was far from simple.
"All right, Padraig?" Padraig recognised the voice instantly and felt his blood boil, but he didn't show it in his voice.
"Ah, Billy. Just the guy. Had a good week?" he smirked, knowing exactly what a bad week McAllister must have had, considering the blowing up of half of a UVF unit by Padraig's crew earlier that week.
"Not been bad." Padraig could hear the hatred in McAllister's voice clearly. "I've got a little proposition for you."
"Have you now?" Padraig chuckled. "Well, let's hear it. I need a good laugh."
"Well, Caraher. The laugh is on you, because you're going to agree. We want a full ceasefire in Belfast. Call the IRA into a ceasefire, or see what'll happen." Padraig laughed.
"Give me one good reason why I should."
"You will, if you ever want to see your girl again." Padraig's heart plummeted into his stomach and suddenly everything went a bit hazy. He felt dizzy with shock.
"What?" he asked.
"We have Roisin. Don't worry yourself, Padraig old friend, she'll be quite all right as long as you meet all of our demands. Call a ceasefire now, or little Roisin will suffer the consequences."
"Jesus Christ, you sick bastard, she's a pregnant woman!"
"Even better. If you want your child to live as well, then you'd better hurry up and call a ceasefire. And the you can show yourself."
"Show myself? Oh really? How many of your little mates will you have round the corner?" Padraig spat.
"Do you want Roisin to live?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then do it. You know where to meet us." Padraig did indeed know – the same pub that they'd nearly killed him in. Padraig paused, a million and one thoughts going through his head, and then he slammed the phone down.
"All right, everyone!" he yelled, and the whole pub, which was filled with IRA men, turned to look at him. "Everyone get your weapons. They've got Roisin and we're going to shoot them out. Let's go."