There was a Cumann na mBan meeting during the week after O’Donovan Rossa’s funeral. It was held at Liberty Hall, as so many meetings had been. Gráinne went along, excited to see her Republican friends again, looking forward to hearing what they thought of Pádraig Pearse’s words at the funeral.
After the main business of the meeting was over, the Countess Markiewicz approached Gráinne who was sitting at the side of the hall. ‘Gráinne MacDowd, isn’t it? I remember you from last year, when we landed those guns at Howth. You did a fine job that day, organising those boys from the Fianna Éireann.’
Gráinne jumped to her feet. ‘Yes, Madame. That was a frightening moment, when we thought the military were going to seize all the guns we’d landed.’ Gráinne recalled being terrified the whole mission would be a disaster, and worse, that some of them might be arrested or hurt. But she’d managed to get the boys to hide the guns in a nearby Christian Brothers community, and in the end only a few rifles were seized with over 1600 spirited away, later distributed among regiments of Irish Volunteers.
‘It was a huge success,’ the Countess said now. ‘And in no small way thanks to you. I think we will be able to make good use of your quick thinking and leadership ability. Tell me, where do you work?’
‘At Clerys department store, Madame,’ Gráinne replied.
‘Hmm. Do you know where I live? Surrey House in Rathmines? Would you be able to pay me a visit on your next day off?’
‘That would be Sunday. Yes, Madame, I know where it is and I can come. But why?’ Gráinne was proud to have been singled out by the Countess, who was the head of the Cumann na mBan, but was at a loss as to what the Countess wanted from her.
The Countess smiled. ‘I have a proposition for you, but it is best discussed at my house rather than here. Come around midday.’ She patted Gráinne’s shoulder and moved away to talk to another woman.
Gráinne took care to look her best on Sunday, dressing in a clean and simple grey skirt and blouse, with a dark green jacket. She pinned up her hair and added a narrow-brimmed hat and flat-heeled boots and her Cumann na mBan armband. It was an outfit that was comfortable and allowed her to move easily – unlike the hobble skirts that were so fashionable now, in which women could not take long strides. She had no idea what the Countess might ask her to do, so had tried to be ready for anything. More gun-running? A recruitment drive? Helping train the younger Fianna boys? Though what she’d be able to train them in she couldn’t imagine.
She took a tram across the city to Rathmines and walked the last section to Leinster Road. Surrey House was situated on a corner. It was a tall, gabled building, joined to its neighbour, looking like any other red-brick, middle-class house in the area. The only thing setting it apart from the others was the fact it was very clearly being watched, by a man Gráinne assumed was a plain-clothes policeman. He was leaning against a lamppost opposite, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Judging by the several butts on the ground at his feet, he’d been there for some time. He stared hard at Gráinne as she walked up to the front door, and she noticed him write something in a notebook. So now she was known to the authorities. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, so she held her head high and rang the doorbell.
It was opened by a lad of about 14 years, who was dressed in Fianna Éireann uniform. ‘Are you wanting Madame?’ he asked.
‘Yes please.’
He nodded towards a door that led off the hall, closed the front door behind Gráinne, and ran off towards the back of the house. Gráinne went into the room he’d indicated. It was a sitting room, stuffed with an assortment of chairs of all shapes and sizes. There were several people there, men and women, some in uniform, some not. Another boy in Fianna uniform was collecting up some empty teacups on a tray. They rattled as he stumbled across the room, and without thinking Gráinne stepped forward. ‘Here, let me take that,’ she said, and the boy gratefully let her take the tray from him. ‘Now show me where the kitchen is.’
He led the way back to the hallway and along a passage to the back of the house, where another boy was washing-up. Gráinne put the tray on a table that took up the centre of the room.
‘Thank you. A little thing, but exactly the kind of initiative I need.’ Madame Markiewicz had followed them into the kitchen. ‘Now come and meet everyone, Gráinne. Then I’ll find a quiet spot, if such a thing exists in this house, and I’ll tell you my proposal.’
Gráinne followed her back to the sitting room where she was introduced to various people. She had heard of a few of them but not all, and she took great care to commit their names and faces to memory. James Connolly, the founder and head of the Irish Citizen Army, was there, a man in his forties with receding hair and an impressive moustache. He seemed to be a great friend of Madame Markiewicz, referring to her as Constance. Joseph Plunkett, a young fellow who was wearing bright scarves and several items of jewellery, rings and bangles. He smiled kindly at Gráinne. ‘Pleased to meet you. And this is my fiancée, Grace Gifford.’ Gráinne shook the hand of a pretty young woman who was sat beside Plunkett.
A small dog, a Cocker Spaniel, was curled up on the Countess’s chair. ‘And that is my dear Poppet,’ the Countess told Gráinne, as she scratched behind its ears.
With the introductions done and a fresh round of tea distributed, which Gráinne helped make, the Countess nodded at Gráinne and gestured to another door from the hallway. It led to a small office. There were a couple of men in there having a heated discussion, but at the Countess’s arrival they jumped up and left the room. ‘We’ll go elsewhere, Constance,’ one said. ‘It’s all yours.’
‘Thank you. Now Gráinne, please take a seat. As you can see, this is a busy house. Sometimes it can be hard to stay in control.’
‘Madame, I think there’s a man outside watching who comes and goes.’ It seemed right to warn the Countess of this, but to Gráinne’s astonishment the other woman just laughed.
‘Yes, of course. He, or one of his colleagues, is there most days. Noting all my visitors, writing things in books. They don’t see anything of any importance, however. If we want to do anything secret, we do it at night when they’ve gone. They only keep watch during daylight hours. But thank you for the warning. It shows you are thinking along the right lines. Now then, here’s my proposition for you. I have seen that you are a competent young woman who sees a job that needs doing and just gets on and does it. The abilities you showed organising the landing of those guns last year was admirable. What I need is someone to help me here. Someone who can take on any task from providing refreshments for my many visitors to organising the Fianna in teams to do leaflet drops. Someone I can trust with anything. Someone who’s bright and clever, who could also help create and print those leaflets.’ She smiled at Gráinne’s frown. ‘Oh yes, I have a small printing press in the basement here. You could help run that too. What do you say?’
‘Madame I … I have a job—’ Gráinne began, then mentally kicked herself for sounding as though she wasn’t interested. ‘I mean … I don’t have a lot of free time, but I’m very happy to come here when I can to help.’
‘I was wondering,’ the Countess continued, ‘whether you might like to change your job. You could work here. I will pay you a salary equal to whatever Clerys pays, and, of course, there is board and lodging here too. I have an attic room you can use. I need a right-hand woman. Someone to take on some of the work I would normally do myself, but there’s simply too much to be done right now.’ She leaned forward in her chair, elbows on the desk. ‘It’s a big commitment, you understand. It puts you at the heart of our endeavours. You will need to exercise discretion, for you will hear and see things in this house that you must not tell to another soul.’ The Countess looked directly at Gráinne, her expression deathly serious, her gaze intense and questioning. ‘And if you choose to take this on, there may come a time when you are asked to do something that puts you in danger. Of arrest, injury, even death. We don’t know what the future holds for our cause, but we do know that, at some point, things will become dangerous. If you agree to come here to work for me, you need to be fully aware of what you are getting into.’
Gráinne blinked and coughed before she was able to answer. Of all the scenarios that had run through her head of why the Countess wanted her to come today, she had not expected this. She was excited but also awed by the prospect. Could she do this? Could she really take this job on? The Countess seemed to think so. ‘Madame, I am honoured that you should ask me to do this. And yes, I would like to do it. I believe passionately that Ireland should be free and self-governing, and I am prepared to fight towards that aim.’
The Countess smiled and nodded. ‘That is precisely how I feel too. And all those others you have met today in the front room. Well now, if you are sure you want to do this, let me show you the bedroom that will be yours, and the printing press. You will need to work your notice period at Clerys of course, but then I will be very happy to have you here as soon as possible. Come, I will give you a tour of the house.’
Gráinne followed the Countess around the house. There was a dining room set up as a meeting room, the kitchen she’d already seen, a well-stocked pantry, a room originally intended as a breakfast room that overlooked the garden, which was currently in use as another meeting and planning room. In the garden, a group of Fianna lads were cleaning some rifles. ‘Be careful, boys,’ the Countess told them. ‘Make sure they are unloaded. We don’t want anyone accidentally firing one again.’
‘Madame? Did that happen? Was anyone hurt?’
‘No one was hurt. The boy fired into the air. The only problem was that some neighbours complained, and we were raided by the police. Thankfully, we’d removed all the guns by then. We don’t store weapons here as a rule. Just a few that are in need of attention.’
‘Where’s the main store, Madame?’
The Countess regarded her quietly for a moment. ‘You’ll find out, in time.’
Upstairs was the Countess’s bedroom, a bathroom and three other bedrooms which each had more than one bed in. ‘We have a lot of people staying overnight. Sometimes meetings go on late, other times Fianna lads stay here. And, occasionally, there are people in need of shelter. I don’t turn anyone away if they are Irish and proud of it.’
In the attic were two further rooms tucked into the eaves. Both were originally intended for servants, but they were cosy and pleasantly furnished, and definitely a step-up from the shared dormitory Gráinne had been sleeping in at Clerys.
‘This room is yours,’ the Countess said, showing her a room with a view over the garden. It contained a small bed with a neat green bedspread, a washstand, a chest of drawers, a bentwood chair and a hand-knotted rug in shades of green and gold.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Gráinne said.
‘So will you take the job?’
‘Of course I will. I can start in a week.’
The Countess smiled and shook Gráinne’s hand. ‘That’s perfect, and it’s all settled, then. Bring your things next week. Oh, and I must show you the printing press.’
They went downstairs, and from a door in the kitchen a further set of steps led to the basement. It was lit only by gas lamps. A small hand-operated printing press sat on a table. Beside it was a pile of blank paper and a tub of ink. ‘It’s a cumbersome process, but with a team of boys we are able to produce simple leaflets and fliers here, to help get our message across. There is a bigger and better one, used to print newspapers, housed elsewhere.’
‘At Liberty Hall?’ Gráinne knew that Connolly’s Irish Citizen Army used Liberty Hall as its headquarters, and papers such as The Irish Worker and The Workers’ Republic were produced there. Every now and again such papers were banned by the British government, but as soon as one was shut down another would spring up to take its place.
‘Yes, that’s right. Good – you’ve kept your eyes and ears open since joining the Cumann na mBan. Well now, I will show you how this works, for we have a poster prepared of which we want to print a hundred copies. I’ll send a couple of boys down here to help with the printing, and the Fianna will then distribute them around the city overnight.’
Gráinne couldn’t believe her luck, that already she was being asked to do something useful and exciting. Already she was at the very heart of the simmering revolution, just as she’d always hoped she would be. An image of Emmett flickered through her mind, and she found herself hoping she’d see him again soon and tell him about her new job. Although, of course, she couldn’t tell him everything about it.
She watched carefully as the Countess showed her how to work the printing press. Partway through, Grace Gifford came down to join them. ‘Can I help at all?’ she asked, and the Countess nodded.
‘If I can leave you two girls to it, that would be most helpful.’
Gráinne nodded – she’d got the hang of the press now, and liked the idea of being able to get to know Grace a little. It was good to have someone nearer her own age around the house.
‘You’re going to be a frequent visitor, are you?’ Grace asked, when they were alone.
‘I’m going to be moving in,’ Gráinne replied. ‘To help out around the house.’
‘Oh, that’s marvellous! It’ll be nice to have someone younger here. Sometimes the place is full of crusty old men. I swear some of them are old enough to have fought in the 1798 rebellion.’ Grace laughed and Gráinne joined in.
‘I only saw young boys of about 14 when I arrived, spilling cups of tea everywhere.’
‘Yes, that’s the choice. Old men or young lads. Apart from Joseph, of course, but he’s spoken for.’ Grace smiled wistfully as she thought of her fiancé.
‘Have you been engaged long?’ Gráinne asked, as she took another stack of printed leaflets from the press.
‘A while, but no date set. We’ve known each other since we were children, so. He’s always been the only one for me.’
‘Childhood sweethearts! Oh, that’s so romantic!’
‘Ah, sure it will be if I can ever pin him down,’ Grace said. ‘And you, do you have a young man?’
An image of Emmett crossed Gráinne’s mind, for some strange reason. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘But you’re thinking of someone!’ Grace nudged Gráinne playfully with her elbow. ‘I can tell!’
Gráinne blushed. ‘He’s … just a friend of my brother. I saw him again last week.’
‘Friends of brothers are perfect, as we already know they’re the right sort.’ Grace smiled. ‘I hope it works out for you. And I’m glad you’re going to be here. I suppose we should get on with this job now.’
They worked well together, and Gráinne couldn’t help but think she’d landed on her feet. A new job, a new friend, and the chance to be at the heart of the Republican movement. What more could she want?
Gráinne handed in her notice at Clerys the next day. She only had to work a week more in the shop, but the days seemed to drag now that she had something new, exciting and, above all, worthwhile ahead of her. Working in a shop was all very well but working for the Countess, in a house that was becoming one of the nerve centres for the Republican movement, felt so much more important a job. And Grace – she’d only met her once but already thought of her as a better friend than any of the other girls she’d known at Clerys. She wrote to her father to tell him the news and had a quick reply from him, wishing her all the best and stating that he was proud of her.
Halfway through the week she had a visitor. Emmett was waiting for her when she finished work. She smiled in greeting, pleased to see him.
‘I thought, if you like, we could go out for dinner somewhere? My treat.’ He blushed as he asked her, and she had the impression he’d possibly rehearsed the question a few times in advance.
‘I would like that very much. I have nothing on tonight, but I’ll be needing to change my clothes first.’ She gestured at her shop assistant’s uniform. ‘Will you wait outside?’
‘I will, of course.’
She hurried up to her dormitory, washed and changed into her best dress and smart shoes. She added a daub of lipstick too, but then rubbed it off, thinking it made her look too superficial. She didn’t want someone who liked her only for her looks. It was important to her that anyone she stepped out with should like her for her mind, her politics, her intelligence. It was too soon to say whether Emmett was such a man, but she found herself hoping he was.
He smiled broadly at her when she came back down. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said, and offered her his arm. She took it, and they walked round to Sackville Street and down it towards the river. ‘I thought we might go over to the south side, and have dinner at the Shelbourne Hotel? We could take a little stroll around St Stephen’s Green first, while it’s still light, and then go in for dinner.’
‘The Shelbourne? Isn’t that rather … expensive?’
‘Ah, you’re worth it, Grá,’ he replied. ‘Sure and what’s the point of earning money if I can’t spend it having a lovely evening out with a wonderful girl?’
‘I won’t be able to treat you to anything as extravagant in return,’ she warned him, but he shook his head.
‘That doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s go out and enjoy ourselves.’
It was a warm evening, and strolling around St Stephen’s Green while the sun dipped down behind the buildings was very pleasant. The flowerbeds were full of dahlias and roses, and the paths amongst them were well tended. There were plenty of people out, enjoying the mild early autumn.
In the Shelbourne, a group of British army officers and their wives sat at a table not far from Gráinne and Emmett. Gráinne glanced over at them in dismay. She did not want to be reminded of the war this evening. It made her think of Sean, and of the fact that if, or when, a rebellion came in Ireland, it was officers such as those who would be leading the fight against the Volunteers. That was a sobering thought.
Emmett had noticed them too. ‘One day,’ he whispered to her, ‘they will be the enemy. But until then, let’s ignore them. Right then, what will you have?’
Gráinne smiled and perused the menu. Steak, mutton stew, braised beef, even lobster were present. Such wonderful food – a different league to what she was used to having at the Clerys staff refectory. She chose her meal then picked up the glass of wine Emmett had poured her and sat back to savour it, determined to enjoy every minute of this wonderful evening.