exploding stones. Still no baton was drawn. The two women waited, holding their breath,
until the mob reached the policemen.
The men stopped there, congregating all along Peter’s Hill. Each group kept its distance; neither moved towards the invisible boundary which kept them separate, each carefully apart from
the other. The silence was palpable. Cecilia and Mary sat where they were, watching, terrified, waiting for the inevitable. It never came. They remained watchful, gritty-eyed, until five
o’clock when the men finally dispersed, straggling off into the dirty dawn light.
May: Spring 1893
A FTER J OSEPH LEFT , May clung to her mother on the platform, too terrified to let her go. She held on
tight to her coat, whimpering, convinced that the noise and black rages of the streets would erupt all around her again if she let go of the familiar. She had just escaped the path of the
terrifying energy that had wanted to snatch and suck at Hannah, at her, and drag them screaming into its very centre. She had had a powerful vision of their carriage being swallowed and spat out
again with its passengers already devoured, missing for ever. She wanted to feel familiar arms around her now, inhale the safe, comforting fragrance of lavender.
‘You’re safe, my love, you’re safe now.’
Sophia rocked her daughter back and forwards, back and forwards as best she could, standing in the middle of the rapidly crowding platform. But the memory of the lurching carriage ride from
school to train station filled May’s senses: her head still reeled with the hoarseness of angry voices, her mind’s eye kept replaying vivid flashes of running bodies, arms flailing in
fury, stone crashing against stone. She had been able to see herself and Hannah as though from above, as they’d huddled together, low on the carriage floor. Now that it was over, she felt the
invisible fist tighten its grip again inside her chest. It squeezed and squeezed so that her breath came wheezing, gasping, and her head grew light and dizzy.
‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you now, you’re safe. Breathe slowly, like Dr Collins showed you.’
Even Mama’s whispered words, over and over, did little to still the rising sea of panic. May tried to slow down, to breathe deeply through her nose, but it wasn’t working. It was
always like this: once the crisis had passed, the waves of suffocation began, washing over and over her until some hand, usually Mama’s, soothed her hot head and made the tide recede. But
there was no comfort to be had here, not now. The hairs on May’s arms and neck still seemed to stand to attention, prickling with the electricity of impending disaster.
‘It’s all right, loves, it’s over, it’s all over.’
May felt her mother’s right arm reach out and draw Hannah closer to her. Hannah put her arm around May, too, and the three of them stood there, trembling. May wiped her eyes over and
over.
‘I thought those men were going to hurt us, Mama.’
Sophia hugged both girls to her.
‘Hush, love, don’t upset yourself any more. You’re here now, you’re safe. We – I had no idea that there was rioting. Let’s just thank God you’re both
unharmed.’
People were now crowding and jostling on the platform. The noise and bustle of the station seemed to have increased tenfold. A red-faced little man in a GNR uniform was now pushing his way
through the crowds in an absurdly cheerful manner, shouting above the excited buzzing that was suddenly everywhere. May wondered if he had any idea what they had just been through. How could anyone
be cheerful if they knew what was happening out on the streets?
‘All aboard! Dublin train in five minutes!’
Mama seemed to jerk suddenly into life.
‘Quickly, now, Hannah. We must board the train. Eleanor’s waiting for us.’
For the first time, May wondered where Papa was. Although they often went to Dublin without him, this time felt different. This time, they were surrounded
until the mob reached the policemen.
The men stopped there, congregating all along Peter’s Hill. Each group kept its distance; neither moved towards the invisible boundary which kept them separate, each carefully apart from
the other. The silence was palpable. Cecilia and Mary sat where they were, watching, terrified, waiting for the inevitable. It never came. They remained watchful, gritty-eyed, until five
o’clock when the men finally dispersed, straggling off into the dirty dawn light.
May: Spring 1893
A FTER J OSEPH LEFT , May clung to her mother on the platform, too terrified to let her go. She held on
tight to her coat, whimpering, convinced that the noise and black rages of the streets would erupt all around her again if she let go of the familiar. She had just escaped the path of the
terrifying energy that had wanted to snatch and suck at Hannah, at her, and drag them screaming into its very centre. She had had a powerful vision of their carriage being swallowed and spat out
again with its passengers already devoured, missing for ever. She wanted to feel familiar arms around her now, inhale the safe, comforting fragrance of lavender.
‘You’re safe, my love, you’re safe now.’
Sophia rocked her daughter back and forwards, back and forwards as best she could, standing in the middle of the rapidly crowding platform. But the memory of the lurching carriage ride from
school to train station filled May’s senses: her head still reeled with the hoarseness of angry voices, her mind’s eye kept replaying vivid flashes of running bodies, arms flailing in
fury, stone crashing against stone. She had been able to see herself and Hannah as though from above, as they’d huddled together, low on the carriage floor. Now that it was over, she felt the
invisible fist tighten its grip again inside her chest. It squeezed and squeezed so that her breath came wheezing, gasping, and her head grew light and dizzy.
‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you now, you’re safe. Breathe slowly, like Dr Collins showed you.’
Even Mama’s whispered words, over and over, did little to still the rising sea of panic. May tried to slow down, to breathe deeply through her nose, but it wasn’t working. It was
always like this: once the crisis had passed, the waves of suffocation began, washing over and over her until some hand, usually Mama’s, soothed her hot head and made the tide recede. But
there was no comfort to be had here, not now. The hairs on May’s arms and neck still seemed to stand to attention, prickling with the electricity of impending disaster.
‘It’s all right, loves, it’s over, it’s all over.’
May felt her mother’s right arm reach out and draw Hannah closer to her. Hannah put her arm around May, too, and the three of them stood there, trembling. May wiped her eyes over and
over.
‘I thought those men were going to hurt us, Mama.’
Sophia hugged both girls to her.
‘Hush, love, don’t upset yourself any more. You’re here now, you’re safe. We – I had no idea that there was rioting. Let’s just thank God you’re both
unharmed.’
People were now crowding and jostling on the platform. The noise and bustle of the station seemed to have increased tenfold. A red-faced little man in a GNR uniform was now pushing his way
through the crowds in an absurdly cheerful manner, shouting above the excited buzzing that was suddenly everywhere. May wondered if he had any idea what they had just been through. How could anyone
be cheerful if they knew what was happening out on the streets?
‘All aboard! Dublin train in five minutes!’
Mama seemed to jerk suddenly into life.
‘Quickly, now, Hannah. We must board the train. Eleanor’s waiting for us.’
For the first time, May wondered where Papa was. Although they often went to Dublin without him, this time felt different. This time, they were surrounded
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