Free Living in the Shadows by Judith Barrow

What a mess everything was.

Chapter 14: Jacqueline Howarth
    Ashford, afternoon: Thursday, September 18th
    Jackie stopped, the wooden gate smooth under her hand, and stared up at the house she’d been brought up in. As usual the green paintwork on the downstairs bay window-frames and door was immaculate. The brass letterbox glinted in the sun. A jittery feeling rose in her throat; she felt breathless. She reached over and clicked open the latch.
    She hoped Jack wasn’t at home. There was no doubt he’d seen her and Nicki in the Wine Lodge. Well, hopefully she’d be able to beat him at his own game; she’d tell her mother first. With a bit of luck her father would be out as usual.
    No such luck, she thought when she walked into the living room; Jack and he were on the settee in front of the television. Her mother was in her chair, knitting.
    ‘Hi,’ Jackie said.
    ‘Shut up.’ Jack glared round at her before turning his attention back to the screen.
    Her father didn’t speak.
    Her mother nodded warningly towards the television and mouthed, ‘Ireland.’
    Jackie waited a moment and then went through the dining-room to the kitchen and, finding a glass, filled it with water, listening to the voice of the newscaster as she drank.
    ‘The August riots were the most sustained violence that Northern Ireland has seen since the early nineteen-twenties. Both Catholic andProtestant families were forced to flee their homes and The Royal Regiment of Wales is still in the Falls/Shankill area in a limited operation to restore law and order…’
    Jackie sat at the dining room table watching her family through the door. Her father slumped, his belly straining the buttons of his shirt, his arm across Jack’s shoulder, still staring at the television. Her mother had dropped her knitting needles onto her lap, her hand to her throat.
    ‘So that’s it then,’ she said, turning to look at Jackie. ‘You know what this means?’
    ‘Shut up.’ Patrick and Jack spoke simultaneously. Patrick glowered at his wife.
    ‘The Prime Minister of the Irish Republic, Jack Lynch, has called for Anglo-Irish talks on the future of Northern Ireland. But this is deemed unnecessary by theNorthern Ireland Prime Minister, James Chichester-Clark, who has stated in the House of Commons that the riots are not the agitation of a minority seeking by lawful means the assertion of political rights. He believes it is the conspiracy of forces seeking to overthrow a government democratically elected by a large majority.
    ‘Further troops will be deployed there in the next week.’
    ‘I knew it,’ her mother said, ‘I knew it.’
    ‘That’s it, then.’ Jack stood up, rubbing his hands together. ‘That’s us, at long last. I’ll give my mate, Charlie Pearson, a call to see when he’s going back to barracks.’
    ‘You sound as though you want to go,’ Jackie said, putting the glass down and going to stand by the living room door.
    ‘Course I do … I’ll sort those bastards out—’
    ‘There are a lot of decent people over there.’
    ‘Well, Charlie says if they’re not bloody terrorists they’re bloody weird. And he should know, he’s been over there twice.’
    ‘And he’s an expert? A psychiatrist? Sounds to me like he’s the weirdo.’
    ‘Yeah, well, you should know.’ He smirked. ‘Shouldn’t you, sis?’
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Anger boiled up inside Jackie and she felt like slapping him.
    ‘You know…’
    ‘No I don’t.’
    ‘Now, now, you two, don’t start. Don’t start.’ Her mother pushed herself out of the chair with a groan. ‘My knees are killing me today.’ She hobbled towards the door. ‘I’ll put a brew on.’ As she passed Jackie she said, ‘Our Jack’s going to that godforsaken place, so don’t start one of your arguments at a time like this.’
    ‘I’m starting nothing; I just want to know what he means.’ It was now or never – she had to tell her parents about Nicki, it wasn’t as