We were playing Snakes and Ladders when we felt the windows go. They didn’t break but they sort of bowed in and out again and then we heard the noise of the bomb. Like everything at Johns Farm it came to us on the river: first one and then the other. The second one only seemed louder because by that stage we were all standing on the street straining to make out what was happening. The sky over Carncloon glowed orange and was filling with smoke and then the sound of the sirens broke out of the silent night. It was impossible to tell what side was hit; we wouldn’t know ’til morning. Bridie broke the spell.

–  It’ll be somebody’s son anyway.

–  Or somebody’s daughter.

John came rattling down the lane in the tractor and told us all to get back inside, to get to the bedrooms, and he would wait in the kitchen for the fallout if it came. We lay for an hour, Serena with her eyes like saucers, ’til we heard something else rumbling on the river. Big blocky Saracens coming fast; I’d know that heartless sound anywhere. It was their side that had been hit, not ours. They’d have already stopped at the McCourts place and picked up the two remaining sons from there; Mammy and Daddy would get a rub but, thank God, Matthew was away staying with Kathleen in Derry. Then they would travel on to Johns Farm.

I got up and hugged Serena while I warned her again, no matter what she heard she was to stay in her room and away from the windows. John was eating a lump of bread and cheese in the kitchen.

–  You never know when you’re next going to get a square meal!

–  Are you going to be alright?

–  Why? Will you miss me, Mary darlin’?

I didn’t have to answer because they were on us, beating on the outside door like their lives depended on it. In the dead of night they still expected you to be ready and willing to fling back your bolts. Bridie pulled auld Brandy dog away from his yapping at the door and held his jaws together; she wanted to make sure he didn’t get a kick or worse. She held on to him because she couldn’t hold on to John.

–  Answer the door and then get out of the way – don’t give them an excuse, do you hear me, Mary? Stay back and stay safe.

–  I hear you.