Bridie stared at the television. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at but it didn’t matter. She was singing the chorus of ‘We’ll Meet Again’ in her head over and over, and suddenly she was back in time, waiting for Arthur to come home. When the war is over we’ll have kids. I’d like five. Three boys and two girls. I couldn’t be doing with a small family. Lots of noise and love and laughter, that’s what I want. She was smiling to herself when Fred came in and sat down beside her. I’d like a big old bus to drive them around and we’ll go to the sea every weekend. Oh, and we’ll have a small boat to go fishing in and I’ll teach them all to swim. Learning to swim is very important when you live on a small island. Bridie’s Arthur couldn’t swim. I’ll teach him too. You can’t not know how to swim.

‘Bridie?’

‘Yes, love?’ she said to Fred, while at the same time looking through him, seeing only the images in her mind.

‘Can I have a word with you?’

‘Is it about Arthur?’

‘No. It’s about me.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m the man who cares about your daughter.’

She laughed. ‘I don’t have children, not yet but someday.’

‘Bridie, it’s me, Fred Brennan.’

She stared at him, good and hard, but she didn’t recognize him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘I just wanted you to know that I’m very sorry and I’m begging you not to say anything, not yet.’ Then he walked away. She heard the front door close and watched him step into the rain.

‘I wonder does he know my Arthur,’ she said to her reflection in the window.

Maisie

The reporters appeared in Tallaght village in dribs and drabs over the course of the day. By ten o’clock there were a few newspaper journalists knocking on doors on Cypress Road. Lynn stayed with Maisie in the house. Fred didn’t want her left alone. It meant that Bridie stayed, too, but she remained quiet in the sitting room, watching her Blockbusters tape. Valerie wanted to go to school but Maisie put her foot down.