'And you know they do things differently in different countries?'
'Yes.'
'Well, guess what happens differently here? In Ireland, today is Christmas Day!'
They both looked at me like I'd gone mad.
'Yeah, it's a fact. Finish your breakfast, take as long as you like. When you come down, it's present time.'
Tallulah stared at me with an arched eyebrow.
I tried to signal back that I'd explain later, and turned for the door before she had time to react.
They didn't appear downstairs for another half hour. Good. Only another six or seven hours of daylight to go.
'Is it really Christmas early here, Nick? Tally says you're joking.'
'Well, she's right; but the thing is, I can't wait any longer. I'm too excited. I want you to open your present.'
Tallulah shot me another disapproving glance.
I shrugged. 'OK, I'd better break it to you guys gently. It's a terrible forecast, so I thought we should have something to keep us busy. It's going to tip with rain any minute, and pour all day.'
Tallulah went to the window and raised her hand to the curtain.
'No, Tallulah, let's leave them closed. Keep it cosy. Anyway, we'll need to be in the dark in a minute.'
She looked at me strangely, but complied.
'Here we go.' I handed Ruby a badly wrapped box about the size of three stacked DVD cases.
She tore it open and she was so ecstatic I thought the ceiling was going to fall in.
21
Two hours later, Ruby had beaten me to a pulp too many times to count on the Wii tennis court, and every time Tallulah asked me a question about what was going on I somehow fobbed her off. She'd given up in the end and disappeared into the kitchen.
'Lunch is ready.' Her voice floated in from next door.
I looked at Ruby. 'You ready, champ?'
She nodded reluctantly and put down her Wii remote. We followed the smell of food.
'It's not raining, Nick. It doesn't even look like it's going to rain.' It sounded as if Tallulah had had enough. 'Let's get out this afternoon. What about a walk on the beach?'
'Nah, I fancy staying round here. Let's watch some telly.'
I flicked it on. The politicians of Northern Ireland were having a Christmas love fest for the cameras. Richard Isham gave Ian Paisley the full voltage, everlastingly sincere two-handed shake. He was looking fatter and healthier than when I'd bodyguarded him during his informal talks with Downing Street, when he'd decided politics provided a quicker route to power than Semtex had done.
It was never a surprise to me when these guys switched horses. Former terrorists were turning into statesmen everywhere on the planet, and had done since the dawn of time. Menachem Begin slaughtered British soldiers on the streets of Jerusalem and ended up on the red carpet when he arrived at 10 Downing Street as Israel's premier. Nelson Mandela and the ANC were outlaws who went on to run South Africa. Even Hamas is now the voters' friend in the West Bank. At this rate, it won't be long before Osama Bin Laden becomes a Goodwill Ambassador for the UN.
The peace process had produced the same result here, but that didn't mean everything in the garden was rosy. Even before 9/11, when the Americans had their first really big taste of the terrorism turkey, PIRA hadn't just raised funds in Boston and New York from tenth-generation Irishmen who thought of them as freedom fighters who played the fiddle in pubs in their spare time. They'd also made a fortune domestically from gambling, extortion, prostitution, bank robbery – and most of all, drugs. The police and army were too busy getting shot at and bombed, so there had been no one around to stop it. PIRA kneecapped dealers periodically as a public relations exercise, but only as a punishment for going freelance.
Richard might be having a kiss and a cuddle with Ian at Stormont right now, but deep down in the belly of the island, old habits died hard. There was just too much money at stake and they didn't want anyone else muscling in. Drugs were their big thing; they'd been running the trade for the last thirty-odd years.
Tallulah was now completely confused. 'You've been in front of that screen all morning. Is something the matter, Nick? You seem to be listening out for something. Are you expecting someone?'
'Father Christmas?' Ruby grinned.
I was going to have to switch to Plan B, whatever the fuck that was. 'OK, you're right. Tell you what, I'll go and take a shower when we've finished this fantastic food, and then we'll make some plans.'
22
I found the immersion heater in an airing cupboard next to the bathroom and switched it off at the mains. Then I took a very long shower.
Assuming it was me they were after, who had a motive? The list was as long as my arm. I stopped thinking about the motive – what about the opportunity? Who the fuck knew I was here? More than that, who would be able to spring into action so quickly?
Dom? No. The housekeeper? Ditto. The shopkeeper, or somebody in one of the villages who'd recognized me? Almost impossible, unless they'd been on the streets of Derry and Belfast in the eighties and recognized my face twenty-odd years on.
And absolutely nobody else knew I was here. Why should they? I had no one to tell where I was going. It wasn't like I had family or an employer who needed to keep in touch. And we hadn't been followed. I would have known.
I yelled loudly as the water ran cold and went back downstairs with a towel around me.
'Looks like the boiler's on the blink. I'll phone Dom, see if there's a quick fix.'
I picked up the phone in the kitchen and talked without dialling. 'Can I speak with Dom, please? It's Nick, a friend. It's a personal call. He'll know who I am.' I hummed a bit as I waited. 'Hi, mate – listen, the boiler's playing up. Yeah, it's run cold. Oh shit, really? That's not good. You think so? OK, that's great. See you at about five then?'
I went back. Tallulah gave me the arched eyebrow treatment again. I beckoned her into the kitchen.
'What's happening, Nick? You're behaving very—'
'I'm not sure, but I think there's somebody outside. Don't worry, they're after me, not you. But Dom is on his way to collect you as a precaution.'
23
The house phone rang twice moments before a set of headlights swept up the drive. He drove straight to the back of the house and left the engine running.
The girls were ready. I shepherded them out to the car and saw them safely into the back before approaching Dom's window.
'Do you know who I mean when I say Liam Duff?'
'He's a household name.'
'Since when?'
'Since he was murdered last week.'
24
I hadn't seen a command wire earlier on. I didn't even know if there was a device. But if there was a command wire, there would still be somebody out there, watching and waiting for me to get into the car. Maybe the same guy who'd given Liam Duff the good news with a Black and Decker drill before finishing him off with a single shot to the head. Dom had checked out some pictures of the murder scene. He'd seen some serious shit in his time, but they had really turned his stomach.