He approached the GPO and decided his old comrade could wait a moment whilst he paid his respects to the men of 1916. He read the proclamation Pearse had so defiantly read on this very spot to a disinterested and angry nation; a nation preoccupied and fighting the wrong war on behalf of its very oppressors! But Pearse saw beyond the present. He hadn’t expected the people to understand and immediately come to their senses. No, he knew he was sacrificing himself and his men for the greater good. He knew the British would do the rest of the job for him. They didn’t disappoint him. In the days that followed, they’d executed him and ten others including Connolly, in a wheelchair; his wounds meant he couldn’t stand to face the firing squad. The revulsion caused by the brutality of this response set in motion an irreversible chain of events and led to the expulsion of the British from twenty-six of the thirty-two counties of Ireland. He looked across the street to where Hobson must have stood frozen as he watched his former comrades give their lives for Ireland. Yes, he was to live longer in this world than they would. But they were now immortal! Yet they hadn’t sacrificed themselves for twenty-six counties, had they? They hadn’t died so future generations of Irishmen should live and die under British skies. No, they’d died so all Irishmen should be free! He flung the holdall over his other shoulder. He looked out across O’Connell Street. The words of Pearse slipped quietly from his mouth.

‘The fools, the fools, the fools … they have left us our Fenian dead!’

He seeped into the morning shoppers and headed for Frederick Street.

‘I have to go, Cormac.’

He’d barely limped off the bridge. She held her hand out like she was concluding a business deal. He felt a surge of blind panic. How could she want to go so soon? They’d only begun to break through the wall of her anger. He raised his hand to meet hers. He was not in such a quandary that he would miss this opportunity to touch her. He was not too proud, either.

‘Please, Bernadette stay a little longer with me. Have a coffee, anything, but stay a while longer.’

She was already moving away from him. He held onto her hand.

‘Why the great hurry?’

She loosened her hand from his grip.

‘I told Peter I wouldn’t be very long, and he’s waiting for me at work.’

‘Work?’

‘Yes, Cormac, work! I have a lecture in ten minutes; or did you think that Dublin stopped working on the day of your arrival?’

He dragged his right foot as he tried to keep pace with her.

‘Sorry, Bernadette, I just didn’t think. I thought the beige suit was for me!’

She stopped.

‘Well, you would, now, wouldn’t you?’

He saw the second smile of the day.

‘Anyway, what’s wrong with the beige suit?’

‘Nothing, you look beautiful in it. But then you would look lovely in that not-so-deaf bloke’s blanket.’