Free Katie's War by Aubrey Flegg Page A

Nenagh by your so-called Republicans. They also shot Mrs O’Malley, a perfectly innocent by-stander, in the stomach, and she’s died too. And then not ten minutes ago I got this from one of yourfriends when we came out to clear this tree.’ He held up his bandaged hand. ‘Now, where were you going at the gallop? Taking messages rather than doing them I’d say, or have they sent you to spy on us?’
    â€˜No, we just came round the corner and –’
    â€˜From now on we shoot on sight, and you can tell them that.’
    â€˜I … we … it’s just the messages.’
    â€˜Well, stop looking all over the place for them!’ The gun wobbled alarmingly. Katie had been looking, searching for a familiar face, but there were no friendly faces here. A group of soldiers in shirt sleeves stood idle but hostile, staring at them. A cross-cut saw emerged from the trunk of the tree, a neat pile of sawdust beneath it.
    â€˜Get on with your sawing there,’ the officer shouted. He turned back to Katie. ‘Well, are you spying? We used girls as spies often enough in the ‘Tan war.’ She shook her head. ‘Corporal, do you know them?’ he asked, turning to the soldier at Barney’s head.
    â€˜Her father, O’Brien’s all right, Sir; he was in the Great War, lost a hand. He’s trying to reopen one of the slate quarries, I’ve heard. Her uncle up the hill, he’d be a Republican now. He was with us against the ‘Tans.’
    â€˜What a mess!’ said the officer. ‘And now half of us are even wearing the same bloody uniforms! Back her off, corporal. You, girl, keep out of it. Go home where you belong, and stay there.’ He turned on Dafydd and snapped, ‘Where did she say you were from then? Come on, quickly.’ Dafydd looked bewildered, shrugged his shoulders, and murmured something, presumably in Welsh. ‘All right, off with you, and keep off the roads. They’re not safe for children.’
    * * *
    Barney walked slowly, unurged. The foam from his gallop wasdrying on his flanks. Katie was still shaking.
    â€˜Here, Frog, take the reins.’ She put them into his hands. She had no comb, but running her fingers through her hair calmed her. She found a ribbon in her skirt pocket and tied her hair. ‘Dafydd … I’m sorry.’ They were approaching the crossroads again. ‘Do you want to go home? It’s not far, just up the hill the way we came.’
    â€˜Where are you going?’
    â€˜I need to think,’ she said.
    Dafydd hesitated. ‘I’ll be quiet.’
    Katie turned Barney down the hill to the right towards the lake.
    There was a patch of green beside the harbour. Katie hitched the reins so that Barney would not trip on them, and left him free. She led the way out on to the pier. The horse dropped his head gratefully and began to graze. The pier was deserted; coal and turf dust showed where a barge had been off-loaded. Jackdaws chattered in the ruins of the old castle that had once stood guard over the harbour. Ahead of them, Lough Derg spread out, a rippling sheet as far as the eye could see. Katie led the way down to a large slab of rock that sloped into the water. She sat there, gathering her skirts about her ankles. Dafydd sat down too, but at the far side of the slab. Water lapped softly with a rounded noise on the stones, the sound forming a background to Katie’s silence.
    â€˜Frog,’ she said after a while.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜You’re Welsh, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Yes?’ said Dafydd.
    â€˜If I talk to you in English you won’t understand me will you?’
    â€˜Perhaps not. I haven’t up to now anyway, have I?’ He grinned.
    â€˜That was just a game. This is serious, deadly serious. And you won’t remember what I say afterwards?’
    â€˜If I don’t understand I can’t, can I?’
    Katie stared at the little