Free A Winter of Spies by Gerard Whelan

this,’ Da said. ‘But we knew it was always a risk. We’re not playing cowboys here.’ He looked around. ‘Right. I want everyone out of here, barring Mick and the two lads,’ he said. He stared at Sarah as he spoke, and she knew from his face there was no use arguing. So here she was now, after what felt like hours, trying to pick out some sense from the muffled sounds coming from downstairs.
    â€˜If they don’t stop soon,’ she said to Josie, ‘then I’m going down.’
    â€˜You are in your hat,’ Josie said.
    Sarah was torn. She really did understand what Da was doing. In a situation like this, simply knowing things could be dangerous, for yourself and for others. But just as she’d persuade herself of how reasonable this was, a great unthinking wave of impatience would rise in her and bury the sensible thoughts. She suspected she’d endup stamping her foot in sheer annoyance before the night was out. It was a habit that she’d always had, and she was ashamed of it because the whole family laughed when she did it. Worse, she could understand why they laughed: it was a childish habit. But the way things were going, she was sure it would be a footstamping night tonight .
    She went cold all over whenever she thought of Hugh Byrne. From the way his friends spoke it was obvious he’d acted without orders. She hadn’t actually seen him shoot the detective, of course, but she was sure he’d done it. Tonight in Sackville Street Sarah felt she’d seen something that really was an introduction to another world. It wasn’t just the bleeding man; it was the smile on Hugh Byrne’s face. It had been wide and happy – and it had taken the prospect of killing somebody to put it there.
    The memory of that smile haunted her. Did Simon smile like that, she wondered, when he was on a job? Had her Da smiled like that when he was in the army?
    There were footsteps and voices in the hall downstairs, and the front door opened and closed. Then they heard Da’s tread on the stairs, coming up. Sarah ran to the bedroom door and pulled it open. Da stopped on the landing , facing her. He didn’t look happy.
    â€˜Come on,’ he said. ‘We’re going for a walk.’
    Sarah just looked at him. ‘A walk?’ she said. ‘At a time like this? Where?’
    Da stood for a few moments and said nothing. Then he clicked his tongue. ‘We’re going to Keane’s shop,’ he said. ‘Do you know it?’
    â€˜Keane’s near Westland Row?’
    â€˜That’s the one.’
    Sarah was flummoxed. ‘All this happens,’ she said, ‘and we’re just going to the shop?’
    â€˜Aye. Come down and get your coat.’ He turned and started back down the stairs. Sarah followed, wondering. In the hall Da stopped and turned to her.
    â€˜Remember you told me what the lads said that time about girls being good disguises?’ he asked. ‘Well, you’re my disguise tonight. I’m a man going for a walk with his daughter. Do you understand?’
    The change in Sarah was instant. This was it! She was getting involved!
    â€˜Of course,’ she said. ‘We’re just going for a walk. Why wouldn’t we?’
    She positively grabbed her coat from the hallstand and bustled into it. Da put his overcoat on more slowly, almost reluctantly. He took his hat and put it on his head.
    â€˜But Da,’ Sarah said, ‘where are we really going?’
    Her father shook his head in wonderment.
    â€˜My God, girl,’ he said, ‘but your curiosity knows nobounds. Didn’t I tell you we’re going to Keane’s?’
    â€˜But why? Sure Keane’s is only a grocer’s – if you’d even call it that.’
    Da stood looking at her. Then he gave a little shrug, as though deciding something.
    â€˜We’re going to see the Big Fellow,’ he said almost casually.
    Sarah