Read Allegiance: A Dublin Novella for Free Online Page B

anti-Treaty, dimwit,” said Andy.
    “Since when is it a crime to be anti-Treaty?” cried a voice.
    “Since the Brits declared it to be so,” said another.
    “Sure they’ll have to build more jails just to hold us all!” exclaimed a third, to loud laughter.
    “What do you think of it, Gerry?” asked Andy.
    “You all know what I think of it,” Gerald said. He jerked his thumb toward the fireplace, where a large framed copy of the Proclamation hung straight and polished between the flag and the crucifix. Voices cheered in both English and Irish; when the noise subsided Gerald continued, “Tis a poor time, lads, a poor time indeed. We must all be careful if we wish to keep our hard-won freedom. Watch your steps, my boys, and watch your backs.”
    “And watch who you trust.”
    Heads turned to see Shane Kelly hunched at the end of the bar, a full glass between his palms and his dark eyes looking straight into William’s. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Gerald frowned.
    William scooped up the nearest crate of dirty glasses. “I’d better get these to Mary.” He could feel everyone watching him as he turned and headed into the kitchen; as soon as the door closed behind him, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He could easily hear Gerald’s voice from the other side.
    “I’ll not have you insulting my staff, Kelly.”
    “You’d trust him over someone you’ve known twenty years?”
    “Over the likes of you? Too bloody right I would.” A few muffled chuckles told William this exchange had been traded before. “I mean what I say, Kelly. You just keep your blood calm, and don’t go drawing attention to things as what don’t require it. We’ve got enough on our plates without adding conflict amongst ourselves.”
    Kelly laughed, a short and ugly sound. “Ourselves? Since when is he one of us?”
    “Since he showed up on my doorstep in need of my help,” said Gerald. “And if you’re not satisfied with my judgment, well then, I might just have to take that as a discourtesy, Shane Kelly.”
    “Give it a rest, Kelly,” said Andy. “What harm’s the Prod ever done to you?”
    “Piss off, Byrne. I’ve got no charity to spare for any goddamned English.”
    “He’s not English.”
    William’s eyes snapped open.
    “He’s Scottish,” continued Adam, “and the Irish aren’t the only people who’ve been downtrodden on this earth.”
    “What, the Scots ? They’ve been London’s fucking lapdogs for a hundred years! Fucking partners, they are.”
    “Really?” Adam’s voice was light, but all background noise instantly ceased.
    “And do partners make orphans out of fourteen-year-old boys? Do partners leave them lying in the street with bloody gashes in their necks and force them from their homes to send money back to their sisters and serve arrogant Irish bastards like you a pint of beer? Is that what partners do?”
    William gripped the crate of glasses until his knuckles throbbed. He did not take a breath until he heard Gerald’s voice.
    “You should have been a politician, lad. You make a fine dramatic speech, so you do.”
    “The day I become a politician is the day I change my name to Windsor,” replied Adam. “Now take this money and give my friend Shane here another pint. It grieves me to see him so in need of one.”
    The tension broke with renewed conversation and fresh calls for drinks, the sound of a hand clapping across a back and a chuckling snort of acquiescence from Kelly. William closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall with a little thump as he let out a sigh.
    “William?”
    He jerked upright at the sound of Mary’s voice. She stood in front of him, nearly touching his elbow; somehow he had not heard her approach.
    “Are you alright, love?” He saw the regret in her eyes, as well as the apology. He gave her a reassuring smile.
    “Oh aye, lass, I was just having a wee nap. It’s hard work keeping up with that lot out