Towards a Dark Horizon Read Free

also been out of work for many years. Obviously all these years of having to make do on little money and not enough to eat some days had left its toll on them all.
    Still, Kit had put on the best spread she could afford – from the warm glow of the fire on this chilly January night to the plate of meat paste sandwiches and the small tin of biscuits on the well scrubbed wooden table.
    A large teapot sat on the gas cooker and Kathleen, Kit’s daughter, was doing the rounds and filling up all the cups. Kathleen had the same radiant red hair as Danny. Her fine boned face had a creamy pallor that contrasted well with the brilliant hair. She was dressed in an ancient-looking jumper and a cheap black skirt but at fifteen she was as slender as a willow and had a flawless radiance that hinted at future beauty. Tonight, however, her eyes were also red rimmed and I knew she was very close to her late departed grandad.
    Hattie sat beside Ma who turned towards her daughter-in-law and took her hand. Hattie, tongue-tied for once, managed to stammer out a few phrases of sympathy. Ma’s face was like a blank page, her emotions firmly under control.
    I looked over to where Danny stood with Dad. Danny was visibly upset and Kit had a thin arm around his shoulders. He was very fond of the Ryan family, more so because his father had died when he was a baby. He had never known him but the family had made up for that. He was their ‘laddie’ as Ma kept calling him.
    Although my subconscious had registered it, it wasn’t until that moment that I realised there were no children in the room and, more importantly, apart from Dad and Danny, there were no men.
    Then, as if in answer to my unspoken thoughts, the door to the tiny back bedroom opened and Kit’s husband George emerged. George was a tall man of six feet one inch – a trait that wasn’t shared by the majority of Irishmen in the neighbourhood who were nearly all of medium height. They were all thin hungry men who had been out of work so long that they had forgotten what a wage packet looked like. For years, their lives had revolved around the dole office, the parish relief committee or, if they were lucky, a couple of pints of beer on a Saturday night.
    George was a lovely man. He was so easy-going that his nickname was ‘the Gentle Giant’. Still, that didn’t stop him getting into a fight with any bully who tried to push weaker people aside. Many a time he had stepped into the middle of some brawl if he thought someone was getting a rough deal and many a punch he’d got for his troubles. He now stood in the doorway with a glass of stout in his huge fist. He seemed confused by all the women until his eye landed on Dad and Danny.
    He marched over. ‘We’re in the bedroom with the coffin,’ he said in a whisper that echoed around the room.
    Hattie went white but sensibly remained silent.
    He whispered again. ‘Come on through and say a last cheerio to your grandad, Danny.’
    Danny seemed uncertain but he didn’t look at his mother. Then, making up his mind, he said, ‘I can’t stay long, George.’
    His uncle beamed. ‘That’s fine, lad – just a quick cheerio.’
    Danny had taken one step towards the room when into the kitchen strode Martin Murphy, a neighbour. Small and beefy and very belligerent, his glass was empty which seemed to annoy him greatly and, when he spoke, he sounded like a disgruntled Jack Russell terrier – snappy and loud. ‘Och, it’s yourself, Danny. Now, you’ll be joining us for yer grandaddy’s wake. We sit up all night and pay our respects to the dead so to speak.’
    I looked at Hattie. She had half risen from the chair and, for a brief moment, I thought she was going to haul Danny from the room and the clutches of Martin Murphy. Her attitude didn’t surprise me but, to my astonishment, I noticed the effect Martin’s words had on Kit and Ma. Kit stepped forward and almost collided with Kathleen and the teapot. Meanwhile Ma’s face dropped