Taken Away

ALSO BY CELINE KIERNAN

The Moorehawke Trilogy

BOOK I
The Poison Throne

BOOK II
The Crowded Shadows

BOOK III
The Rebel Prince

This edition published in 2011

First published in Ireland by The O'Brien Press Ltd. 2011

Copyright © Celine Kiernan 2011

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the
publisher. The
Australian Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows
a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is
the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its
educational purposes provided that the educational institution
(or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice
to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218
Email: [email protected]
Web:
www.allenandunwin.com

A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the
National Library of Australia
www.trove.nla.gov.au

ISBN 978 1 74237 752 0

Cover and text design by Ruth Grüner
Cover photos: boy © Roderick Field / Trevillion Images;
tree by Ilona Wellmann / Trevillion Images; ice © Peter Zelei / iStockphoto
Set in 11.3 pt Granjon by Ruth Grüner
Printed in Australia by McPherson's Printing Group

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

To Mam, I love you.

To Dad, I miss you.

CONTENTS

NAN BURNS THE HOUSE DOWN

THE OLD BIDDIES' PLACE

IN THE DARKNESS

THE AULD DRUNK

JAMES

‘WATERLOO'

THE FEEL OF MOONLIGHT

TAKE ME AWAY

CHERYL

CHERYL AND FRANCIS

YOU CAN'T FREEZE A TOMATO

LITTLE GREEN PILLS TO COMBAT THE COLD

THE MONSTER OF PELADON

JAMES HUESTON

THE TRUTH

LOST AGAIN, AFTER SO LONG RUNNING

COLD COMFORT

HATE THE BOY

MAYBE NOW, IN DREAMS

FALL TO FOG

STEP OVER TO GREY

A SHINING BRIDGE

AN UNEXPECTED FIND

GRASS, SKY, HORIZON

DESPERATION

SIX DAYS LATER – A CONVERSATION ABOUT SKA

SURPRISE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

NAN BURNS THE HOUSE DOWN

WE WERE WATCHING TELLY
the night Nan burnt the house down. It was March 1974, and I was fifteen years of age. I thought I lost everything in that fire, but what did I know about loss? Nothing, that's what. I would learn soon enough.

I think the fire changed us – me and Dom. Though I didn't feel much different at first, I think something inside of us opened up, or woke up. I think, all at once, we began to understand how easily things are broken and taken and lost. It was like walking through a door: on one side was the warm, cosy sitting room of our childhood; on the other, a burnt-out shell of ash and char.

I think that's how the goblin-boy was able to see us. Though he'd been there for every summer of our childhood – mine and Dom's – we'd only been stupid boys until then. Stupid, happy, ignorant boys. And what in hell would he have had in common with two stupid boys? But after the fire we were different. We were maybe a little bit like him. And so he saw us, at last, and he thought he'd found a home.

THE NIGHT OF
the fire, Ma had brought chips home and we were eating them from the bags, our feet on the coffee table, our eyes glued to the TV. Looking back, it's weird to remember that we were watching
All Quiet on the Western Front
. Looking back, it seems prophetic – but at the time I just remember hating it. It didn't feel like a proper war movie at all. It was about the Germans, for one thing. They were the bad guys! Who wants to watch a war movie about the bad guys? And they weren't even acting like bad guys. They just acted like normal lads – though it had to be said they were a bloody dismal bunch. That was another thing I hated. Who needs a dismal war movie? Where were the heroics? Where was the excitement? What was it with all the mud and confusion? I flicked a glance at Dom, who was lying on the floor sucking the vinegar out of the bottom of his chip bag. He was frowning uncertainly at the screen.

‘Are they Nazis?' he said.

‘No,' said Dad. ‘They're just lads.'

Dom turned to look at him. ‘But they're Germans!'

Dad went to say something but just then Nan came in from the kitchen, and he went quiet. I think he was hoping she'd just sit down and fall back asleep, but she didn't. She stood at the back of the sofa instead, staring at the TV and fluttering her hands, kind of horrified. ‘Oh no!' she said. ‘No, no! That's not nice! All that mud! Oh, bless him.
Bless
him! That's not
nice
!'

Ma sighed and stood up and went around to her. Nan blinked, startled, as Ma took her by the elbow.

‘It's alright, Cheryl love,' said Ma. ‘It's only a film.'

Dad reached behind him and touched Nan's hand. ‘Tell you what, Mam,' he said quietly, ‘why don't you come sit in your chair and have a nice cuppa?'

I looked away, because Nan's confusion made me angry.

I think she must have shuffled from one foot to the other for a moment; I could hear her muttering and sighing. But then that ad came on the telly – the one for Old Spice, with the waves in it – and the music made her happy again, like it always did. Next I knew, she was sitting in her chair, smiling and taking a cup of tea from Dad. We all kind of relaxed a bit.

The film started again and Dad sighed. I don't think he was enjoying that movie any more than I was. The next ads came on. Nan murmured in her sleep, ‘Oh, love, were you here all this time?'

Dad leapt up, rubbing his hands together. ‘Right! Pee then tea.'

He kissed Ma on the way out the door and she called after him to bring in the Jaffa Cakes.

We didn't notice him backing into the room until he'd got to the end of the sofa and grabbed Ma's shoulder. She swatted him in annoyance, thinking he was messing. Then she saw his face, and her expression went all flat and ready for anything.

‘What's wrong?' she said.

‘Get Mam out into the front garden, Olive. Just take her out as calm as you can. Don't come back in. I'm going upstairs for Dee.'

They looked at each other and my ma's eyes got enormous. ‘Dave,' she whispered, ‘is that smoke?'

Dom leapt up from where he was lying. He had been drawing his comic book and was still clutching a purple marker. There were purple smudges all over his fingers, and his face was covered in purple fingerprints where he'd had his chin resting in his hand. I began to stand up. Our front room never seemed so small as when the three Finnerty men all stood up together.

I wanted to ask,
What's wrong?
As usual, Dom did it for me.

‘Dad?' he said. ‘Is something . . . ?'

‘Listen!' said Dad. ‘Just
listen
. Dom, help take Nan outside. Keep her calm and act like nothing's wrong.' He turned to me. ‘Pat, I'm going upstairs. Once everyone's outside, don't let them come back in this house. Do you hear me? I don't care
what
happens.'

I nodded.

Dad went into the hall, glanced towards the kitchen, and motioned us to the front door.

Ma was waking Nan, a slow process at the best of times. ‘Come on, Cheryl love. Get up, me old darlin'. Up you get now.'

‘Where we goin'?' asked Nan, her quavery old voice fuddled with more than just sleep. ‘Are we late for mass?'