Lewis had been away long enough to feel embarrassed by any reference to his Irish family’s clairvoyance—something he knew William and Edwina would think ofas superstitious nonsense, so he countered with his ultimate authority. “But they’re saying in the newspaper and on the wireless—”
“It matters nought. They don’t want a panic on their hands, so it’s business as usual. But any fool can see the Germans won’t stop where they are. It’s only a matter of time, lad, and you’re better off out of it.” His dad tapped his pipe on the railing to empty it, then tucked it in the pocket of his coat. “Don’t you see, knowing you’re safe is the only thing gives your mum any peace. We can’t send your sister away, and your brothers have chosen their road—though before long I think it won’t be a matter of choice for anyone young and fit enough to fight.”
“I’ll go, too, if it lasts long enough,” said Lewis, smarting at always being thought a child.
“You know I’m not a religious man, lad—it’s your mum who thinks so highly of the Church—but I’ll say a prayer to all your mother’s saints that this war ends long before that.” He smiled down at Lewis. “And we’d best be getting back, or your mother will have Father Joseph out looking for us.”
It was as close to a joke as his father ever came, and an effective means of ending an argument. Lewis matched his dad’s steps, staying close beside him until they left the darkness of the park behind. They walked as briskly as the blackout allowed back to Stebondale Street, and the disappointment Lewis nursed became tinged ever so slightly with relief.
Even that disappointment was short-lived once they reached the house, for he was soon involved with the preparations for Christmas dinner. His family could have afforded few luxuries even had they been available, but his mother was adept at making do with little, and they sat down next day to a jolly table. Tommy and Edward had helped him make newspaper hats, and Cath had somehow procured a bit of colored tissue for homemade crackers. They’d filled them with bits of tinsel and mottoes concocted with much hilarity the previous evening. Lewis waseven allowed a sip of Christmas gin, which inspired in him an affectionate glow and an unprecedented tolerance of his sister’s teasing.
On this occasion, his family’s gift seemed to have bypassed him altogether, for he had no premonition that this was the last time they would all be gathered together.
