cold, but she’s very kind. She makes me cocoa in a jug while I’m washing up. It has to be in a jug in case Mother Clare comes in and thinks I’m being treated like someone normal. I just drink it straight from the jug you see, no cup.”
“I meant among the others, the other girls.”
“No, no friends.”
“You’re not trying, Eve.”
“You’re damn right I’m not trying. I’m not staying either, that’s for good and certain.”
“But what will you
do?
Eve, you can’t do this to Mother Francis and everyone.”
“In a few days I’ll have some plan. I won’t live in that place. I won’t do it.” Her voice had a slightly hysterical ring about it.
“All right, all right.” Benny was different now. “Will you come home on the bus tonight, back to Knockglen, back to the convent?”
“I can’t do that. It would be letting them down.”
“Well, what would it be standing shivering round the streets here, telling lies about being in hospital? What’ll they say when they hear that? Will we walk through the Green? It’s nice, even though it’s wet.” Benny’s face looked glum.
Eve felt guilty. “I’m sorry, I’m really making a mess of your first day of term. This is not what you need.”
They had reached the corner of St. Stephen’s Green. The traffic lights were green and they started to cross the road.
“Look at the style,” Benny said wistfully. Already they could see students in duffel coats, laughing and talking. They could see girls with ponytails and college scarves walking in easy friendship with boys along the damp slippery footpaths up toward Earlsfort Terrace. Some did walk on their own, but they had great confidence. Just beside them Benny noticed a blond girl in a smart navy coat; despite the rain, she still looked elegant.
They were all crossing together when they saw the skid, the boy on the motorbike, out of control and plowing toward the sedate black Morris Minor. It all seemed like slow motion, the way the boy fell and the bike swerved and skidded. How the car tried to avoid it and how both motorbike and car came sideways into the group of pedestrians crossing the wet street.
Eve heard Benny cry out, and then she saw the facesfrozen as the car came toward her. She didn’t hear the screams because there was a roaring in her ears as she lost consciousness, pinned by the car to the lamppost. Beside her lay the body of the boy Francis Joseph Hegarty, who was already dead.
FOUR
E veryone said afterward that it was a miracle that more people hadn’t been killed or injured. It was another miracle that it was so near the hospital, and that the driver of the car, who had been able to step out of it without any aid, had in fact been a Fitzwilliam Square doctor himself, who had known exactly what to do. Clutching a handkerchief to his face, he felt blood over his eye but he assured them it was superficial, he gave instructions which were followed to the letter. Someone was to hold up the traffic, another to get the guards, but first someone was sent down the side lane toward St. Vincent’s Hospital to alert casualty and summon help. Dr. Foley knelt beside the body of the boy whose motorbike had lost control. He closed his own eyes to give a silent prayer of relief that his own son had never wanted to ride a machine like this.
Then he closed the eyes of the boy with the broken neck, and placed a coat over him to keep him from the eyes of the students he would never get to know. The small girl with the wound in her temple had a slightly slow pulse and could well be concussed. But he did not think her condition critical. Two other girls had been grazed and bruised, and were obviously suffering from shock. He himself had bitten his tongue from what he could feel in his mouth, probably loosened a couple of teeth and had a flesh wound over hiseye. His task now was to get things into the hands of the professionals before he asked anyone to take his blood pressure for him.
One of
“I meant among the others, the other girls.”
“No, no friends.”
“You’re not trying, Eve.”
“You’re damn right I’m not trying. I’m not staying either, that’s for good and certain.”
“But what will you
do?
Eve, you can’t do this to Mother Francis and everyone.”
“In a few days I’ll have some plan. I won’t live in that place. I won’t do it.” Her voice had a slightly hysterical ring about it.
“All right, all right.” Benny was different now. “Will you come home on the bus tonight, back to Knockglen, back to the convent?”
“I can’t do that. It would be letting them down.”
“Well, what would it be standing shivering round the streets here, telling lies about being in hospital? What’ll they say when they hear that? Will we walk through the Green? It’s nice, even though it’s wet.” Benny’s face looked glum.
Eve felt guilty. “I’m sorry, I’m really making a mess of your first day of term. This is not what you need.”
They had reached the corner of St. Stephen’s Green. The traffic lights were green and they started to cross the road.
“Look at the style,” Benny said wistfully. Already they could see students in duffel coats, laughing and talking. They could see girls with ponytails and college scarves walking in easy friendship with boys along the damp slippery footpaths up toward Earlsfort Terrace. Some did walk on their own, but they had great confidence. Just beside them Benny noticed a blond girl in a smart navy coat; despite the rain, she still looked elegant.
They were all crossing together when they saw the skid, the boy on the motorbike, out of control and plowing toward the sedate black Morris Minor. It all seemed like slow motion, the way the boy fell and the bike swerved and skidded. How the car tried to avoid it and how both motorbike and car came sideways into the group of pedestrians crossing the wet street.
Eve heard Benny cry out, and then she saw the facesfrozen as the car came toward her. She didn’t hear the screams because there was a roaring in her ears as she lost consciousness, pinned by the car to the lamppost. Beside her lay the body of the boy Francis Joseph Hegarty, who was already dead.
FOUR
E veryone said afterward that it was a miracle that more people hadn’t been killed or injured. It was another miracle that it was so near the hospital, and that the driver of the car, who had been able to step out of it without any aid, had in fact been a Fitzwilliam Square doctor himself, who had known exactly what to do. Clutching a handkerchief to his face, he felt blood over his eye but he assured them it was superficial, he gave instructions which were followed to the letter. Someone was to hold up the traffic, another to get the guards, but first someone was sent down the side lane toward St. Vincent’s Hospital to alert casualty and summon help. Dr. Foley knelt beside the body of the boy whose motorbike had lost control. He closed his own eyes to give a silent prayer of relief that his own son had never wanted to ride a machine like this.
Then he closed the eyes of the boy with the broken neck, and placed a coat over him to keep him from the eyes of the students he would never get to know. The small girl with the wound in her temple had a slightly slow pulse and could well be concussed. But he did not think her condition critical. Two other girls had been grazed and bruised, and were obviously suffering from shock. He himself had bitten his tongue from what he could feel in his mouth, probably loosened a couple of teeth and had a flesh wound over hiseye. His task now was to get things into the hands of the professionals before he asked anyone to take his blood pressure for him.
One of
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