Tested by Fire by David Costa (the little red hen read aloud TXT) 📗

get here, I catch up on my shopping and meet with some old friends as well.’

Now she turned the tables.

‘Well, the old town the people and the shops still seem the same. What about you, how have you been?’

She’d deliberately dressed for the occasion in a black button-down blouse with bright flowered pattern skirt, short heeled, red shoes, and just the right amount of make-up; not too much not too little.

It had the desired effect, Maguire started to talk and as he spoke, his answers became more unguarded especially when Mary smiled and on occasion laughed at his attempts to be funny.

‘Oh, I’m OK,’ he replied. ‘I’m still here. The club has a good committee who look after me and listen to my problems and pay me well enough. I’m happy enough.’

‘Did you ever marry?’

‘Why, are you proposing, Mary?’

‘No.’ She laughed. ‘I’ve had enough of that lark. Just wondering, I haven’t been in here in a while.’

‘No. There was one or two who came close but I’m fine and available if you’re ever interested,’ he said with a wink.

‘No, thank you. I’ve had my fill of men for some time. Brendan saw to that.’

‘Ah, sure that’s a waste. Is he still inside? Why was he not released with the rest under the Agreement?’

He knew the answer to that question, but she’d play along, anyway. Under the Good Friday Agreement terrorist prisoners were released on licence after two years served no matter what their crime.

‘Brendan was an idiot as you know. He did the robbery off his own bat without sanction from the IRA, so his crime was classed as criminal instead of terrorism. He couldn’t claim membership of the organisation after disobeying orders.’

‘Yes, he always was the idiot, especially with a drink in him.’

Now, Mary thought. Now is the time.

‘I know he was an idiot. I was young and immature when I met him and trying to please my mother when I married him. She’s old-school Catholic and wanted to see me married in the chapel where she prayed, so the pressure was coming from two fronts, Brendan and my mother, and I suppose, in a way, the Catholic religion. The hope of every Catholic mother in those days. Brendan was all right in the beginning as far as husbands go. But then he started to change, and it was only later that I found out why.’

‘His involvement with the boys.’

‘Yes, if Brendan had one other failing, it was that he was easily led. He got involved with the wrong people who used him, who saw that he was weak and pliable.’

‘You mean people like Sean Costello?’

There it was. She knew Maguire was more than just a barman. A good barman doesn’t just serve beer…he sees and listens, and he learns to keep what he sees and hears for a day when he might use it for his benefit. This was just what he was doing now, she thought, in the hope of getting closer to Mary.

‘Yes, people like Costello. I thought we were supposed to be at peace, that the war was over, but it seems not.’

‘Ah, Costello’s just a big bully. I’ve seen his sort many times over. Why, during the whole Peace Process he was in here threatening and blowing his big gob off. “There’ll be no peace while I’m around”, says he. “No peace until the Brits leave Ireland for good. Anyone who signs up to this peace deal and that includes Adams and McGuinness are traitors and they deserve to be shot”.’

Mary didn’t interrupt. This was exactly what she wanted Maguire to do, keep shouting his mouth off in the hope she was pleased. She let him continue his flow of words.

‘Sure, Costello and a couple of his mates were in here a few times after the Agreement putting a bit of muscle about, letting it be known they’d left the PROVOS and joined this new group, this new gang…the Real IRA. Well, it wasn’t long before the word went out from South Armagh telling Costello and his mates to stay away from their places of business, including here. We’re just a Republican Club mind. We don’t take sides. My customers just want a quiet pint and a bit of peace to drink it.’

‘So, where’s Costello now?’

‘The last I heard, him and a few of his mates were hanging about Dundalk. I did hear that Costello still wants to carry on the war but that he is so afraid of the Brits and the PROVOS that he paid some money to have some plastic surgery done on his face, so no one will recognise him. Did you ever hear such nonsense, the big brute is so ugly it would have cost a fortune, maybe he robbed a few banks?’

Mary laughed again which seemed to please Maguire and helped lift the conversation away from the serious subject it had become.

‘Well, I’m just glad people like him are out of my life. I’m like you, Paddy, a bit of peace to do my shopping and a quiet chat with friends over a cup of coffee.’

Maguire took the hint.

‘Another cup, Mary?’

‘Why not? I have a bit more time to spare, why not?’

It took Mary another hour of general chit chat, smiles, and laughter and finally a promise to return soon before she could escape the Republican Club and what, she had no doubt, the lecherous attempt by Maguire to keep her there. Driving back to Belfast, the thought of Costello changing his appearance kept coming back to her. It was time to get this bastard out of her life once and for all. She would need help to do it. She needed Joseph. She would call him when she reached Belfast.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-two

The Manchester rain had reached Irlam when Costello got back. The