Secrets and Sacrifice: A Christian Romance (The Shadows Series Book 4) Read online

  Ryan angled his head. “You really want to know?”

  Grace nodded. She didn't, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to know… what if he was in Londonderry when the bomb went off?

  “Well, the British weren’t involved in Vietnam, thank God, but I was in the Aden Conflict, and then I got tangled up with the Troubles in Ireland in the late sixties and early seventies.”

  Grace felt the blood drain out of her face. Her heart raced and she bit her lip. She had to get a grip on herself. She couldn't allow even a smidgen of concern to show. Besides, he was probably in Belfast, not Londonderry.

  “And I was in Malaysia, and also the Falklands.” He leaned closer. “Best not make this public, but I was in the Special Forces."

  Grace’s eyes widened. Why was he telling her all of this? And why would a man like Ryan, who’d obviously seen so much action, choose to come and work in a place like this, with a mob of drug addicts and drop-outs? It didn’t make sense. Surely he’d be bored stiff. She would be. She was already missing the challenge of the court room, and that was nothing like the adrenalin rush she imagined Ryan would have gotten from being in the field.

  “So how are you finding it here? It must be tame after what you’re used to.” She tried to keep her voice calm, natural.

  “Yes, it is, but the thrill of helping these kids, and seeing them face challenges they've never dreamed of facing before, is worth it. It’s such a rewarding job, especially when most of them come to know God.”

  Grace blinked. God? Surely this burly ex-Special Forces soldier didn’t believe in God? Surely after all the evil and hatred he would have seen, he’d be more cynical about God than ever. But here he was, talking about God as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Something told Grace that Ryan meant it, and just like Lizzy and Danny, his faith would be utterly genuine.

  Dessert was served, saving Grace the need to provide some kind of answer to Ryan’s last statement. For now. If she got the chance to spend more time with him, no doubt it would come up again, and she’d have to have a response ready.

  Following dessert, Ryan pushed his chair back. “Sorry folks, I’m going to have to leave you. Early start in the morning and all.” He smiled at everyone, and then leaned closer to Grace, whispering in her ear, “Let me know when you want to do that hike.” And then he was gone.

  The evening was finished as far as Grace was concerned. She had no inclination to strike up a conversation with any of the others, especially the older couple who she guessed could be quite boring, especially after Ryan. Who wanted to talk about Bible school, sewing and piano? Or cooking or domestic duties? No, the only person of interest here was Ryan. Apart from Danny and Lizzy, of course.

  “I think I might head off, too if you’ll excuse me.” Grace wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed her chair back. “It’s been a lovely evening, thank you all.” She nodded to each person in turn, and then made eyes at Brianna.

  “I need to go to bed, too.” Brianna took the hint. She stood and thanked everyone, before leaving with Grace.

  Grace turned as Lizzy caught them just outside the kitchen. Grabbing both their hands, Lizzy gave them a warm smile. “I hope you both sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Lizzy. I’m sure we’ll be fine." Grace returned her smile. "Thanks for a lovely evening.”

  “Our pleasure, Grace. I’m so glad you enjoyed yourselves.” Lizzy leaned forward and hugged and kissed them in turn before saying goodnight.

  Once in their room, Brianna climbed into bed fully dressed.

  “Are you okay, Bibi?” Grace eased herself onto the bed and brushed the hair off Brianna’s forehead with her fingers.

  Brianna sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m tired. And I'm sick of talking. That’s all they seem to do.” Her voice trailled away as she rolled over and faced the wall, curling into a ball as she always did, as if she just wanted to hide from the world.

  Grace leaned over and hugged her. “It’ll be all right, Bibi. Just get some sleep.” She rubbed Brianna’s back gently until her breathing slowed and her body relaxed.

  Grace tip-toed away and prepared for bed, but as she lay in bed, sleep eluded her as her mind drifted back to the day that had haunted her for so long. She’d only been sixteen. Young and rebellious, and looking for a cause to follow. Something that would relieve the boredom of life in Londonderry…

  Chapter 14

  Londonderry, 1969

  “Fergus has agreed to meet you after school,” Grace’s best friend, Samara whispered to her one boring Wednesday lunch-time in the school cafeteria.

  Sixteen-year old Grace’s face lit up at the prospect of something new happening in her life. Aunt Hilda treated her and Brianna like they were servants, not relatives, and Grace was sick of it. She didn’t care if she got into trouble for being late to do her chores. Samara had been telling her about Fergus for some time, and finally she was getting the chance to meet him. Not that she believed for a second that was his real name. But that only added more to the intrigue and mystery.

  “That’s great, Sammy. Will you be there too?”

  “Yes, I’ll come. Meet me at the main gate and we’ll catch the 3.11 into town.”

  Grace smiled at her. “I’ll be there.”

  As they alighted from the 3.11 in downtown Derry and made their way first along Bishop Street and then through a rabbit warren of narrow alleys full of overflowing rubbish cans, stray cats and ancient crooked buildings, Grace’s heart beat with anticipation. Finally she was getting a chance to do something exciting. Ever since she and Brianna had come to live with Aunt Hilda and Uncle Dougall after Mam died, she’d been longing for some excitement to replace the everyday drudgery of life in the tiny house in the suburbs of Londonderry.

  The Troubles had begun a year ago, but having been kept on such a tight leash by Aunt Hilda, Grace hadn't seen any of it first hand, although, explosions and gunfire could often be heard in the distance, and occasionally, helicopters would fly overhead. But she wanted to see it for herself. And now she was sixteen, she was prepared to stand up to Aunt Hilda and get a life.

  Sammy finally stopped in front of a nondescript door in a narrow alleyway and knocked three times. A voice from inside called out some unintelligible word, and Sammy replied with the word ‘potato’. Seemed it was the word the person inside was looking for, because the door creaked open. Grace squinted. The shades were drawn over the solitary window, and she gagged at the smell of stale cigarettes and beer. Steeling herself, Grace followed Sammy inside. Sammy stopped in front of a table littered with wires and cables and bits of tin and metal. On the other side of the table sat a man with a big bushy beard and a cap drawn low over his eyes.

  “Fergus, this is my friend, Faith.”

  Grace clenched her hands and inched closer to Sammy and the table. Her heart raced. Now the moment was here, could she really go through with it? What would Sammy think if she pulled out now? No, she had to hold herself together and go ahead with this meeting and prove to Fergus that she was capable of doing what was required.

  Fergus leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and sized her up.

  Grace bit her lip to stop it quivering.

  “So, Faith, what makes you think you might be of use to us?” His voice was deeper than she’d expected, and slightly gravelly, as if he was trying to disguise it.

  Sammy pushed her forward. Grace swallowed hard. “Well, sir, I believe in the cause, and I’m smart, and I’m quick.” Her voice was less confident than she’d hoped it would be.

  “Smart, huh? Mary here has told me you’re top in your class. Bit of a whizz kid.”

  “I don’t know about that, sir, but I think I’ve been blessed with a decent brain.”

  Fergus continued to study her. Grace forced herself to stand still, although she was itching to turn around and flee.

  “Mary said we can trust you. She’d better be right.” He paused, as if he was weighing up whether he rea
lly could trust her or not. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth. The glow from the cigarette highlighted the red in his beard. Grace jumped as he leaned forward and folded his arms on the table. “You’ll have two classes, and after that you’ll be given your first assignment. You’re not to say a word to anyone. Mary’s already been chastised for talking to you.” He glanced at Sammy. “We normally do our own recruiting.”

  Grace gulped. “Thank you, sir.” She got the feeling that something was going on between the two of them and she felt sick in her stomach at the thought of it. Sammy had never said anything directly, but a few things she’d said now made sense. How could Sammy do that? Fergus was a disgusting creep.

  “One thing, don’t call me ‘sir’.”

  “Okay, thank you, sir. Sorry, Fergus.” Grace needed to get out before she vomited. She was panting, and couldn’t steady her breathing.

  “Read this and memorise it. You’ve got ten seconds and then I’ll have it back.”

  Grace took the paper and read it carefully. Details of her classes were scrawled in untidy capital letters. She committed them to memory and handed the paper back. Fergus lit a match and held the paper up, making sure it was alight before tossing it in the bin.

  “That’s all. Good afternoon, ladies.” He glanced at Sammy and ever so slightly nodded his head at her. Was Sammy planning on coming back later? What excuse did she give her Mam for being out so often? Grace gulped. Did she really know what she was getting herself into?

  Once back outside in the alleyway, Grace gulped in lungfuls of air and steadied her breathing. If only she’d pulled out then… but she couldn’t lose face with Sammy, and so she pretended she was impressed with Fergus, and feigned her excitement about the classes.

  The following day she told Aunt Hilda she was going to Sammy’s place after school to work on a joint assignment, but instead she went to her first class. Being clever, Grace picked up the art of bomb making very quickly. But what interested her the most was finding out which wire to pull out so it wouldn’t go off. She couldn’t ask directly, but by the time she'd completed her second class, she'd worked it out herself. And with that knowledge, she left the class with details of her first assignment scribbled on a piece of paper.

  Right from the moment the girls arrived, Hilda resented them. She'd never wanted to take the girls in, but Dougall had spoken and she had no say in the matter.

  “They’re just poor wee little lassies without a Mam or a Da, Hilda, love. We have to offer them a home.” He wrapped his stinking arms around her and breathed his foul breath on her, and then told her he’d earn extra money so they could afford to feed and clothe them. What a fool she’d been to believe him. Whatever extra money he might have earned, he spent at the pub on the way home. She never saw a penny of it.

  She rarely spoke to the girls, apart from giving them chores to do. The boys resented them too, and made faces at the girls, especially the youngest one who was much quieter than the older one. She sat in the corner and sucked her thumb even though she was ten when they arrived. She wet her bed every night too. Hilda made the older girl wash the stinking bedding. Why should she have to do it?

  But Grace was the sly one. She was too smart for her own good, and Hilda despised her even more with every day and year that passed. She knew Grace was up to something when she was quieter than usual one morning at the breakfast table. She’d grown into quite a striking teenager, and Hilda had noticed Dougall’s not so discreet interest in her. But what did she care? She couldn’t stand the man touching her anymore, so if he was able to satisfy his needs with this young hussy, she should be grateful. But the airs and graces that girl put on! Who did she think she was? She should leave school and get a job, that’d bring her back to earth, but Dougall wouldn't allow it. “She’s the clever one, Hilda, love. She can become anything she chooses. Leave her alone.”

  But Hilda kept watch, and this morning she had a feeling she was onto something. After the girls left for school, she quietly opened the door to their tiny back room and closed it behind her. No one was home, but still, it paid to be careful. She scanned the room. Rarely had she come in here, just on the odd occasion when she had extra jobs for them to do, but then she’d only stand in the doorway. The room was barely big enough for the two girls.

  As she eased her large frame onto the bed, it squeaked and sagged in the middle. At least the bedding was clean. On the faded timber bookcase, a lone photo sat in front of a row of books. Hilda reached for it and studied it. The woman must be their mam. She held a babe in her arms, and was surrounded by seven other children ranging in ages from about two to early teens. Hilda peered closer. It must have been taken not long before she died. She picked out Grace and Brianna and was tempted to tear the photo up. Instead, she replaced it carefully.

  Her gaze moved slowly around the room. There had to be something. The girls were surprisingly neat. But then again, they didn’t have much to be untidy with. Her gaze settled on a notebook on the desk. She picked it up and flicked through it. Nothing. Then a scrunched up piece of paper in the bin caught her attention. Hilda leaned over and picked it up. She smoothed out the creases and tried to read the few words that had been written in neat handwriting. She wasn’t that literate, but could make out a few of the words. ‘Friday 13th November Stop 20 4pm’. Somehow she knew this was what she’d been looking for. She shoved it into her apron pocket, and after standing, smoothed the bed covers and backed out of the room with a smile on her face. She’d catch that young hussy out once and for all. Studying with Samara, sure. And the Queen's my mother.

  All day at school, Grace couldn’t concentrate. She glanced at the clock on the wall every few minutes. Every now and then Sammy kicked her and she turned her attention back to the algebra she was supposed to be doing, or the Shakespeare she was meant to be reading. Finally, the bell rang, and Grace quickly packed her books into her backpack. Her stomach convulsed. She just made it to the toilet block before vomiting violently into the bowl. Anyone who saw her probably thought she was pregnant. But that was impossible. Despite all Uncle Dougall’s attempts, she’d never once given into him. Her acrid tongue and sharp words had somehow kept him at bay. But it had backfired, and he was now paying Brianna attention. Grace wasn’t sure if Brianna was strong enough to hold him off much longer. But that was the least of her concerns right now. She stood slowly and wiped her mouth. Sweat dripped off her forehead despite the chill of the day.

  “Grace, are you okay?” Sammy called from the other side of the door.

  Grace inhaled slowly and forced herself to reply. “Yep, coming.” Sammy didn’t know today was the day. Nobody knew, apart from her and Gregor, her teacher. And Fergus, no doubt.

  “I’ve got to go home today, Sammy,” Grace said when she finally opened the door. “I just remembered Aunt Hilda needed me to do extra chores this afternoon. Sorry.” She planted a smile on her face and hoped she hadn't given anything away. “I’ll catch you Monday, if not before.”

  Sammy narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything. She probably guessed, but what did it matter? “Okay then, see you Monday.” As she began to walk away, she stopped and turned. “Come over tomorrow if you want.”

  Grace lifted her hand and smiled. She could see it in her eyes. Sammy knew.

  Left on her own, Grace returned to the toilet cubicle and opened her back-pack. So many times she’d played this over in her mind, but now she had to do it for real. Carefully lifting the device she’d made during her class out of her back-pack, Grace set the timer for four p.m. Less than thirty minutes to get to the bus stop, plant it, and get out of the area. Before replacing the package in her back-pack, Grace did one more thing. She carefully picked up the white wire, but instead of connecting it to the terminal, she left it hanging. Maybe she’d be excused for not tightening it up properly since it was her first mission. But Grace doubted Fergus would let her off that easily… she’d be expelled from the group, but she couldn't do what they w
ere asking. She’d just have to suffer whatever penalty he doled out if he realised what she'd done.

  Chapter 15

  Elim Community, 1985

  Grace sprang up in bed. Her heart pounded like a hammer drill and sweat dropped from her forehead in beads, landing on her already sodden bed clothes. Where was she? She held her hand to her chest and calmed her breathing. The first rays of daylight peeked in through the window. In the other bed, Brianna stretched and turned over. Grace remembered. She was at Danny and Lizzy’s, and meeting Ryan must have triggered that horrible memory.

  If only she hadn’t gone to the bus stop that afternoon, everything would have been so different for both her and Brianna. The bomb shouldn't have gone off. Her stomach convulsed again just recalling the images of bodies flying through the air. And the noise. It shouldn't have happened. How had she made the mistake? She knew which wire to leave off. She knew what she was doing. It was quite simple. But somehow she'd made an error. A fatal error. How had she lived with herself all these years knowing she'd killed all those innocent people?

  She’d been a hundred yards away when the bomb went off. She stopped and turned as if it was all happening in slow motion. Her heart stopped beating for what seemed ages as people ran all around her trying to get as far away as possible. Someone pulled her along, but she kept turning her head to see what was happening. Within seconds, sirens screamed as response teams raced to the site. Soldiers intermingled with Police as the area was cordoned off, and then Grace was pulled around a corner and could no longer see the devastation she’d caused.

  “Best get home quickly, miss,” a man said. She had no recollection of what he looked like; the only image in her head was of bodies lying on the ground amongst the debris, along with the memory of the smell of the smoke and dust that stung her nostrils. She could never forget.