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time I’m certain of it. When this is over I will come home for good.
    If this last wire doesn’t reach you, go to the office and have them cover you until it’s sorted. And don’t tell them to send any back this time, either. I’ve got far more than I need. Say hello to the girls and kiss them for me. I fear they must be distressed at my long absence. I’m sure you’ll set them straight. My best love to all. I’ll be home soon.
     
    I’m doing the right thing, Meg.
     
    All my love,
    William
     
     
     
    7.
    February 4, 1922
     
    The pub was busier than usual – nowhere near the pace of last week’s ceili, but a bit more animated than the average weeknight, at least in William’s experience. There was a tremor in the air that he couldn’t quite place; a sort of exhilarated tension that both excited and unsettled him. In spite of it – or because of it – his mood was high and his smile bright as he went through the paces behind the bar next to Gerald. Everyone seemed to notice his buoyancy
    “Well then, Glasgow, aren’t we cheery tonight?” said Andy as he flashed his coin.
    “Only happy to see your face again, dear Andy,” replied William, snatching up the coin and replacing it with a glass.
    Beside Andy, a tall lad named David laughed out loud. “Listen to him, Gerald – the man’s turning more Irish every day.”
    “Aye, that he is,” Gerald agreed. “Give him another week and he’ll be as silver-tongued as young Adam there.”
    They all looked over to the table in the back corner where Adam sat sharing a bottle of currant wine with a blue-eyed lass. He had taken to whispering in her ear sometime after the third glass, and her breathy laughter made the lads at the bar shake their heads.
    “Sure didn’t you have Lizzie yourself once, Andy?” asked David.
    “Hell’s Bells, no. She’s only had eyes for Adam, that one.”
    David craned his neck to get a better look. She’ll have something else for him tonight, I reckon.”
    “Oi, watch your tongue,” snapped an older man. “Elizabeth is a virtuous lass.”
    “They all are until they meet Adam,” said Andy.
    William joined in their good humor but kept his eyes away from the table. The embarrassment from his unintentional intrusion had passed, but he still felt an odd uneasiness every time he thought of it. It was a bit puzzling, actually – it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d caught someone out, or vice versa. Boarding school will do that to a lad. By the time he got to Cambridge at seventeen he knew all about the ways of the world, and his time in university had only expanded his education. William had always been more open about the subject than most of his mates, and certainly more so than his sister. He scratched his nose to hide a sudden grin, remembering the first time Meg had walked in on him with a lass. That had been the summer of ‘13, if memory served (and it always did). Jenny had been her name, and what a fiery wee redhead she had been. Margaret’s mortification had been most amusing, but not nearly as amusing as when she found him in bed with Jenny’s cousin Brian two months later.
    No, it definitely wasn’t the sex. William was not sure what set him on edge about that night, but whenever he thought of it he could still see that low glitter in Adam’s eyes, the grin on his swollen, wet mouth, and it was not an image he wanted to dwell on. The matter seemed to have passed from Adam’s recollection entirely – he had not spoken to William at all since that afternoon in the kitchen doorway. Perhaps he had more important things on his mind.
    “Did you hear what happened to Tommy Dempsey this morning?” David’s voice snapped William out of his thoughts. “They arrested him, so they did, and took him in for questioning by the Brits.” A dozen voices raised in disgust; when they calmed down David added, “They had to let him go for lack of proof, of course.”
    “Proof of what?” someone asked.
    “Of being