Winter Song Read Free Page B

his eyes and looked up at them.
    â€˜Are you feeling better now?’ Father Twomey asked him. He repeated: ‘ Are you feeling better ?’
    â€˜Yes.’ It was a bare whisper. He turned over on his side; ‘where am I?’
    â€˜You are safe. You will soon be home.’
    â€˜Where’s Fanny?’
    â€˜She will be here soon. Here, drink this.’ He put his hand behind the old man’s head, he held the glass to his lips.
    After a moment or two, he withdrew the tumbler, sat back a little, and stared at Dennis Fury. He saw a shortish man, with iron-grey hair close cropped, long thin features, quite bloodless, and on his neck, seated like a vulture, the legacy from the sea. The partly opened mouth revealed blackened, broken teeth. The green-grey eyes were almost lost to view under the bushy grey brows. Somehow lying there with his knees drawn up, it seemed to accentuate the weakness, the fragility, of the old man. Father Twomey suddenly turned to Delahane.
    â€˜You took the names and addresses of the two men who brought him here, I hope? We shall have to get much more information from them. It is most extraordinary that the man should have been returned to his country in this manner.’
    â€˜I’ve seen worse, Father, in my time.’
    â€˜I doubt it.’
    They spoke in whispers and all the time the man on the bed was watching them.
    â€˜You were shouting in your sleep.’
    â€˜Was I?’
    â€˜Yes. Would you like another drink?’
    The eyes closed. Father Twomey and Delahane turned away from the bed.
    â€˜You rang for Dr McClaren?’
    â€˜He should be here any minute now.’
    â€˜I don’t like the look of the old chap.’
    â€˜Nor do I.’
    â€˜Let’s go downstairs,’ Father Twomey said. ‘It’s no use questioning him now. He’s extremely exhausted. I can’t get out of my mind the picture of this very sick man, standing in between two drunks on a crowded reeling train, for nearly five hours.’
    â€˜Nor can I.’
    They went downstairs again.
    â€˜Perhaps he’ll be better in his own home. I expect McClaren will have him shifted at once.’
    â€˜He hasn’t any home.’
    â€˜No home.’
    â€˜His wife, so I gather, has a room at St Stephen’s Hospice. I daresay Father Moynihan will see to them both. They are his parishioners.’
    â€˜He’s coming again?’
    â€˜Yes, but he’ll have to see the old man’s wife. It’s going to be something of a shock. She is an old woman, and she had given up her husband as dead months ago. Indeed, she got some compensation and a small pension. It seems a pity that he has neither home nor family to return to. And, of course, he doesn’t know. That’s another job for Father Moynihan. Now I must get ready to meet those men coming in on the Torsa . I believe there are eleven of them altogether. Have a good fire in the big room, and ask Mrs Shane to have plenty of hot drinks and blankets ready.’
    â€˜Very good, Father.’
    He watched the priest put on his hat, pick up the umbrella and go out.
    Delahane sat down.
    â€˜What a lot of men get lost in the sea, poor devils.’
    Through the window he saw the river, the ships, the tugs, barges, liners, the ferry boats, the wheeling gulls. ‘I’d better go and see Mrs Shane right away. Those men will be here in an hour.’
    When he returned a few minutes later he found a tall, red-faced, very stout man sitting there.
    â€˜Why, Dr McClaren, how are you? The man is upstairs. Will you come up?’
    The doctor rose. ‘Where is Father Twomey? Isn’t he here? Didn’t he know I was coming?’
    â€˜Of course, but he was suddenly called out. His work is much like yours, doctor.’
    He led the doctor upstairs. As they went up, the doctor became even more abrupt.
    â€˜What’s the matter with the man? Is he very ill? I’m a busy man, you