Bruar's Rest

but when he asked again why she had left the north she simply said it was how things turned out. She wanted to tell him about Bruar, but rather than upset Michael she just said, ‘Folks were telling me about hotel work, and while there I got tangled with some gypsies.’
    ‘And was this when you and this poisoned person crossed paths?’
    ‘Aye it was, and for certain he’ll kill me.’
    ‘Oh, well now, we’ll see about that.’
    ‘He has nine lives, and has so far lost none.’
    He put his hands on hers, smiled and said, ‘I sit here this night a proud man who has organised many exploits for the good of this old country of mine. Not a drop of liquor has passed me lips in a long while. I’m respected now. If it hadn’t been for your saving my life that day after them ploughmen left me for dead, like Rory, I would be nothing. I owe a lot to you Megan, and as God’s me witness, if a man wants to harm you, then he’ll have to come through me.’ She winced as a revolver was laid on the table. The Irishman added, ‘Me and this old friend.’
    ‘I’m puzzled by the changes in you, O’Connor.’ She had to find out why his path had led him here. ‘Remember when Sergeant Wilson came among us that time with a picture of Kitchener, and I thought it was Rory?’
    ‘Aye, and you were goin’ to stick him for telling the boys that war was for the good o’ the country. Sure now that face on you was a sight.’
    ‘Yes, but I heard you say that war wasn’t your thing. Yet here you are hiding from your enemies, blindfolding visitors and so on.’
    ‘War with Germany was one thing. We fight for our independence, and that’s different.’
    ‘Its not, if all you do is shoot each other!’ She wondered what Doctor Mackenzie would think of him now. After seeing his bloodsoaked body the last time, his weatherbeaten and destitute face, and saddest of all, those begging eyes.
    ‘When me wounds healed I went back to the auld campsite. Oh bless us, it wis all burned and empty; a lot like meself. I sat down near where your mother sleeps, under the willows, listened for the birds singing, but it was eerie an’ silent. Not hearing you and the cracking o’ Rory’s voice, just echoes in me head. I sat awhile in me loneliness with only wind for company. The night came an’ I wanted to light a fire; you know, for the last time. But have you ever heard of a campfire in a graveyard? That’s what it was like, Megan; a place for peaceful ghosts. Sitting on me log, I suddenly sees a path in me head. All lit up it was; on and on it wound until I could see in the distance—the auld country. So me feet got moving, and when I came back to see all the troubles, I decided to turn around me life. One man tells another, an’ before I know it here I am—a fighter for the cause.’
    ‘So you’ve ended up poisoning yourself with bullets, instead of gut-rot drink.’
    He laughed loudly, and agreed that both have the power over man. ‘Oh, me little wild Megan, sure there is no understandin’ in that head o’ yours. Now, let’s make plans to catch Bull Buckley and rid you of him once and for all.’
    She smiled. It was hard to believe how many bends circumstance had pushed her around. She was beginning to feel like a cork caught in the coastal tides of two estuaries. Looking into the scarred and rugged face of her late father-in-law’s boozing buddy, who would have ever imagined he’d find his feet and respect from his fellow Irishmen? A picture formed in her mind of him in his smelly clothes, the beer belly, hairy and fat, hanging over loose-fitting, greasy trousers; unshaven, vomiting over dykes. ‘Funny old world,’ she thought, but was too much the lady to remind him.
    A wobbly-legged farmhouse table served as the focal point both for them to chat over journeys past and, more importantly, how to dispose of Buckley. The serious intensity of the night discussion brought moths to join them and flutter close to the candle flame. Singed wings fluttered through the smoke-filled room adding to the atmosphere. Daylight was pushing between clouds left after the storm had passed through; the earth became bright as they decided on the plan of action.
    When Buckley came back they would be waiting. She gazed at the men, each of whom showed a determination the like of which she’d never seen before. It gave her a feeling of inner strength. Maybe this time, finally, Buckley’s end was in sight. Somewhere far off a bell in a church