“And racked by self-hate. He hates himself, so he hates all of life. He has no feelings left, not in any normal sense. In fact it is my judgment that the man is probably seeking death. One possible reason for him to continue to lead the life he does.”
“But I don’t understand,” she said.
“He puts his whole life on the scales, gave himself for a cause he believed was an honourable one – gave everything he had. A dangerous thing to do, because if anything goes wrong, if you find that in the final analysis your cause is as worthless as a bent farthing, you’re left with nothing.”
“He told me he was a dead man walking,” she said.
“I think that’s how he sees himself.”
She put a hand on his arm. “But what can you do?” she said. “What can anyone do?”
“Help him find himself. Save his soul, perhaps. I don’t really know. But I must do something. I must!”
He got up, walked across to the altar rail, knelt down and started to pray.
I2
More Work for the Undertaker
Fallon was in the kitchen having tea ùwith Jenny when the doorbell rang. She went to answer it. When she came back, Jack Meehan and Billy followed her into the room.
“All right, sweetheart,” Meehan told her. “Make yourself scarce. This is business.”
She gave Fallon a brief troubled look, hesitated, then went out. “She’s taken a shine to you. I can see that,” Meehan” commented.
He sat on the edge of the table and poured himself a cup of tea. Billy leaned against the wall by the door, hands in his pockets, watching Fallon sullenly.
“She’s a nice kid,” Fallon said, “but you haven’t come here to discuss Jenny.”
Meehan sighed. “You’ve been a naughty boy again, Fallon. I told you when I left you this morning to come back here and keep under cover and what did you do at the first oppor-tunity? Gave poor old Varley the slip again and that isn’t nice because he knows how annoyed I get and he has a weak heart.”
“Make your point”
“All right. You went to see that bloody priest again.”
“Like hell he did,” Billy put in from the doorway. “He was with that da Costa bird in the churchyard.”
“The blind girl?” Meehan said.
“That’s right. She kissed him.”
Meehan shook his head sorrowfully. “Leading the poor girl on like that and you leaving the country after tomorrow.”
“She’s a right whore,” Billy said viciously. “Undressing at the bloody window, she was. Anybody could have seen her.”
“That’s hardly likely/ Fallon said. “Not with a twenty-foot wall round the churchyard. I thought I told you to stay away from there.”
“What’s wrong?” Billy jeered. “Frightened I’ll queer your pitch? Want to keep it all for yourself?”
Fallon stood up slowly and the look on his face would have frightened the Devil himself. “Go near that girl again, harm her in any way, and I’ll kill you,” he said simply and his voice was the merest whisper.
Jack Meehan turned and slapped his brother across the face backhanded. “You randy little pig,” he said. “Sex, that’s all you can think about. As if I don’t have enough troubles. Go on, get out of it!”
Billy got the door open and glared at Fallon, his face white with passion. “You wait, you bastard. I’ll fix you, you see if I don’t. You and your posh bird.”
“I said get out of here” Meehan roared and Billy did just that, slamming the door behind him.
Meehan turned to Fallon, Til see he doesn’t step out of line, don’t you worry.”
Fallon put a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a taper from the kitchen fire. “And you?” he said. “Who keeps you in line?”
Meehan laughed delightedly. “Nothing ever throws you, does it? I mean, when Miller walked into church yesterday and found you talking to the priest, I was worried, “I can tell you. But when you sat down at that organ.” He shook his head and chuckled. “That was truly beautiful.”
There was a slight frown on Fallon’s face. “You were there?”