Old Friends: The Lost Tales of Fionn Mac Cumhaill by Tom O'Neill

Author:Tom O'Neill
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-84840-941-5
Publisher: Little Island

When the story, the fire and all the company evaporated, cold rain was dripping through the oak tree under which Dark was sitting. It looked like it had been falling for a while. His parka and pants were already wet through.

When he got outside the rath, it was spilling and he was starting to cough and splutter by the time he climbed into his bedroom.

He was still coughing at school time. It was only a tickle, but his mother said, ‘Art, I’m just sorry that you had to be out with the vet last night. You’re working too hard. This can’t go on.’

Dark said, ‘Don’t worry, Mam. It’s nothing. Nothing to do with being out with the heifer.’

When it came to homework-checking time that morning, Sullivan didn’t even ask him. She just opened the door and he went out.

He wasn’t long in the corridor when he saw the familiar wren land in a bush opposite him. The wren was so busy looking in the window and trying not to be noticed that it didn’t spot a magpie approaching it, hopping down from branch to branch in the ash tree above it, turning its head from side to side so as to look at the wren with one eye and then the other. Dark spotted the magpie’s plan when it was almost too late. No time to go to the door to shout the magpie away. And the windows were double-glazed so the wren couldn’t hear him clapping.

The only thing to hand was the fire extinguisher, lying in the corner. He jabbed the window with it, base first to be sure the glass would give. He hadn’t known that double-glazing broke with such a bang. It was certainly enough to alarm the wren and frighten the magpie away. It was also enough to bring the teachers out of every classroom off the corridor.

‘What in heaven’s name is going on, young Arthur McLean?’ said old Mrs Moriarty, the Gaeilge teacher. Everyone called her Auntie Úna and said she was a little bit cracked. She had been there as long as anyone could remember and had taught all the parents and Jim the caretaker and she was old even then. ‘Are you hurt, love? Is someone after firing a shot at you through the window? A plague on their souls!’

‘Not at all,’ said Dark.

‘Oh, dear. Well, whatever happened, it must have put the heart sideways in you. Don’t you worry about it now,’ said Mrs Moriarty, looking up at him kindly.

‘What, then?’ said Sullivan, shoving in front of Auntie Úna. ‘What on earth are you after doing now?’

‘The young man just slipped and had an accident, can’t you see that?’ said Mrs Moriarty sharply to Sullivan. ‘Great God almighty, anyone with an eye in their head can see that. If you didn’t have him shut out in the corridor every bloody day, it mightn’t have happened.’

‘Excuse me, Úna,’ interrupted Magill, just now arriving on the scene, ‘I think you are wanted back in your own classroom.

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