Free Friend or Foe by Brian Gallagher Page A

the year. It was late September, and although they had enjoyed a lovelylingering summer, autumn had now definitely arrived. Even the Dublin Metropolitan Police hygiene rules had undergone their seasonal change. Members of the force were required to take two baths a week in summer and one bath a week the rest of the year. Jack’s father prided himself on cleanliness and bathed more often than that, but it was still one of the milestones of the year for Jack when the DMP hygiene rules switched from summer to autumn.
    His father had had a small cut over his eye at breakfast that morning. Da had made light of it – explaining that there had been a fracas in Kilmainham, where he served as part of the DMP’s A Division – and Jack knew better than to press him for more information than he wanted to give. It reminded Jack of the dispute of two years previously, known as the Dublin Lockout, when the police had frequently clashed with striking workers. Back then, Da had come home several times with cuts and bruises. Even though Jack looked up to his father and felt that he would never behave dishonourably, the Lockout had not been the DMP’s finest hour, and there had been many claims of police brutality. Jack had had some sympathy for the striking workers, but his main concern had been for his father’s safety. He hoped that last night’s trouble in Kilmainham wasn’t the beginning of more unrest.
    ‘I’m not swimming in that river again till the sun is splitting the trees!’ said Ben now as he and Jack towelled off and dressed behind a bush.
    ‘Yes,’ answered Jack, ‘when your skin turns blue, it’s time to stop swimming in the river!’
    The girls had dried off and dressed behind a nearby bank of trees, and now all of them gathered on the riverbank. They sat on the bough of a fallen tree and sucked the Bullseye sweets that Emer had brought.
    ‘Here’s your friend,’ said Joan, and Jack looked up to see Gerry Quinn approaching.
    He gave his schoolmate a welcoming wave, and the others exchanged greetings with Gerry as he drew up beside them. Jack had never told Gerry about the argument with Phelim O’Connell, and Gerry had come to school the next day with a note excusing his absence. But the incident had made Jack feel closer to Gerry, and he was glad now when Emer offered him a Bullseye.
    ‘Thanks,’ said Gerry, popping it into his mouth, then indicating the river. ‘Bleedin’ freezin’ for swimming.’
    ‘Yes, much too cold,’ answered Gladys, unable to disguise fully her disapproval of his language. ‘This is our last swim of the year.’
    ‘We should have a ceremony,’ said Ben, ‘like a farewell to the river.’
    ‘Don’t be daft, Ben,’ said his sister.
    ‘It’s just marking the end of summer,’ argued Ben, then he turned to Gerry. ‘That’s not daft, is it?’
    Jack noted that Gerry looked surprised to be drawn into the discussion – he normally didn’t get too involved with the group – but he shrugged, then replied, ‘If you’re a swimmer, I suppose it’s no harm to mark the end of swimming.’
    ‘Now,’ said Ben, ‘what did I tell you?’
    ‘So how come you never swim, when you live beside the river?’ asked Joan.
    Gerry paused before answering. ‘My uncle used to be a sailor. He said loads of sailors don’t swim – that way they respect the water more. So he never taught me.’
    ‘You could learn in our swimming club if you wanted,’ said Ben.
    ‘No,’ said Gerry.
    ‘Why not?’ queried Joan.
    ‘We couldn’t afford it. And I’m not that bothered.’
    ‘It’s only three pence a week,’ said Gladys.
    ‘I haven’t got three pence a week. Plus there’d be tram fares and all. I won’t be doing it.’
    Jack was used to Gerry’s forthright manner, but he could see that the others were taken aback by his blunt admission of poverty. There was a slightly awkward pause, then Jack spoke up, wanting to make Gerry feel better. ‘Well, I suppose being in a swimming club