Gallagher The Case of the Secret Signal

1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-1-78849-586-8
Verlag: The O'Brien Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 224 Seiten

Reihe: The Case Of ...

Ireland, 1911 A secret signal flashes in the night ... It's an SOS. Is someone being held prisoner? Friends Tim, Deirdre and Joe set out to investigate. What starts as a diversion while on holiday in Carlingford quickly spirals into a dangerous adventure. Can they solve the case before it's too late? And who can they trust?

BRIAN GALLAGHER was born in Dublin. He is a full-time writer whose plays and short stories have been produced in Ireland, Britain and Canada. He has worked extensively in radio and television, writing many dramas and documentaries. Brian is the author of four adult novels, and his other books of historical fiction for young readers are Winds of Change set against the backdrop of Land League agitation, evictions and boycotting in 1880's Ireland; One Good Turn and Friend or Foe - both set in Dublin in 1916; Stormclouds, which takes place in Northern Ireland during the turbulent summer of 1969; Secrets and Shadows, a spy novel that begins with the North Strand bombings during the Second World War; Taking Sides, about the Irish Civil War; Across the Divide, set during the 1913 Lockout; Arrivals, a time-slip novel set between modern and early-twentieth-century Ontario, and Pawns, set during Ireland's War of Independence. Brian lives with his family in Dublin. Find out more about Brian's books at briangallagherwriter.com

Autoren/Hrsg.

Gallagher, Brian

Leseproben

Chapter Three

WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 6TH 1911

Aweak December sun shone on the noisy schoolyard, but the air was cold, and last night’s frost still sparkled on the ground. Normally Deirdre didn’t like the cold, but today she was oblivious to it as she chatted during break-time with Beth and Maura Breslin. The Breslin sisters were both neighbours and school friends, and Deirdre was happily re-living last night’s experience in the Shelbourne Hotel and answering the girls’ many questions.

‘It must have been dead exciting,’ said Beth.

‘It was,’ agreed Deirdre. ‘Tim and I said we weren’t going to be like beggars at the feast, but it was still a feast!’

‘What did you have?’ asked Maura.

‘Mock Turtle soup to start. And a choice of about six different kinds of bread to go with it. Then the juiciest steak you ever tasted.’

‘Yum,’ said Beth. ‘We only have steak on special occasions.’

‘Well, this was a special occasion for us. And the steak was gorgeous, with sautéed potatoes, and fried onions, and loads of other vegetables.’

‘My mouth is watering!’ said Beth.

‘What came next?’ asked Maura.

‘Next there was a sorbet – to cleanse your palate, if you don’t mind!’ said Deirdre. ‘And then the deserts…’

‘What were they?’ asked Beth.

‘Baked Alaska,’ answered Deirdre. ‘It’s ice cream, surrounded by cake, and with a hot marshmallow meringue on the outside. Brilliant! And they also had sherry trifle with loads of fruit and cream.’

Maura looked fascinated. ‘Which one did you have?’

‘Which one? I had both!’ laughed Deirdre. ‘And then to finish off we had chocolates, as many as we wanted!’ Deirdre reached into her pocket and took out a bag of sweets. ‘We couldn’t eat them all, so they let us bring some home. Here,’ Deirdre said, extending the bag to her friends. ‘Help yourselves.’

‘Thanks, Deirdre,’ said Maura.

‘Yes, thanks, Deirdre, you’re a star,’ said Beth.

The two girls popped the chocolates into their mouths, and Deirdre grinned. ‘Just to keep you company,’ she said, taking a sweet herself.

The chocolate tasted rich and creamy, and they all munched away happily. Then Deirdre saw Sadie Nolan approaching. Sadie was a neighbour in Great Western Square too, but Deirdre had never liked her. Sadie’s father was an engineer with the railway, and unlike Joe, Sadie felt that this made her superior to the Kavanaghs. Their relationship had improved when Mr Nolan had gone into hospital some months previously, and Deirdre had been sympathetic. Then Mr Nolan made a full recovery, and Sadie had gone back to being her snooty self.

‘I hear you got your medals last night,’ she said now.

‘Yes, we did,’ answered Deirdre.

‘Deirdre had a brilliant meal in the Shelbourne Hotel,’ said Maura.

‘Really? I suppose you think that makes you great,’ said Sadie.

Deirdre didn’t want her good mood spoiled, and she resisted the temptation to put Sadie in her place. ‘I don’t think I’m great, but the meal was great,’ she answered.

‘But it was charity really, wasn’t it?’ said Sadie.

Deirdre realised that the other girl wasn’t going to let it go and she looked her in the eye. ‘Maybe it was,’ replied Deirdre. ‘But they say charity begins at home. So here’s a sweet for you, Sadie,’ she said, suddenly thrusting a chocolate into the other girl’s hand. ‘Suck on that, it might sweeten you up!’

Sadie looked taken aback, and before she could respond, Deirdre said a cheery, ‘See you, girls,’ to the Breslin sisters, then turned and strode away across the frosty yard.

* * *

Isobel tried to gauge the mood as she looked around the classroom. Harriet French, the captain of the Alexandra junior hockey team, had a look of barely concealed boredom on her face, and Isobel knew that some of the other girls would take their lead from Harriet. Miss Taylor, the English teacher, allowed the girls to debate current issues in the classroom, and Isobel was doing a presentation in praise of an Argentinian woman called Julieta Lantieri.

‘I think she’s a real heroine,’ said Isobel. ‘She was one of the first female doctors in Argentina, and last July she became the first ever woman to vote in South America.’

‘How does that make her a heroine?’ asked Harriet.

‘Because of what she had to overcome. Getting into college, qualifying as a doctor, every step of the way she had to face hurdles.’

‘But who asked her to be a doctor? I’m sure they’ve lots of doctors in Argentina.’

‘That’s not the point, Harriet. They had no female doctors, and now they have.’

‘I don’t see what’s so great about that. I’d hate to be a doctor.’

‘Fine, then you shouldn’t be one. That’s your choice. But other girls might love to be one, and they should have that choice.’

‘You mean you’d love to. Does that make you a heroine too?’ asked Harriet with a smirk.

Isobel saw some of the other girls smiling at the remark. She knew that Harriet was trying to be smart at her expense, but she decided not to show any discomfort. ‘No, I don’t think it makes me a heroine. But it doesn’t stop me from recognising someone who is. No woman had ever got to vote, in any country in South America. That would put off most people, but not Julietta Lanteri. She used her knowledge of the law to find a loophole.’ Isobel paused and glanced round the class, sensing that she had the interest of many of the girls.

‘What was the loophole?’ asked Miss Taylor.

‘There were conditions laid down for men who wanted to vote. But it never actually said women couldn’t vote – it was assumed that wouldn’t be happening. So she persuaded the precinct chairman to let her vote in the election for the council. And he agreed.’

‘But women today don’t have the vote in Argentina,’ said Miss Taylor.

‘No, they changed the law after Julieta voted. From then on, to vote you had to have done military service, and only males went into the army.’

‘So, she wasted her time, really,’ said Harriet.

‘I don’t think so,’ answered Isobel.

‘Well, she didn’t get to vote again, did she?’

‘No, but she made her point.’

‘What good is that?’

‘She raised the issue. And she founded a party to work for women’s rights.’

‘Doesn’t sound like she had much fun, does it?’ said Harriet. ‘Don’t think I want to join the army just so I could vote in an election!’ She looked around the class for support, and all of her cronies smiled.

‘I don’t think you’d want to join anything, Harriet, unless you’d benefit,’ answered Isobel. ‘But Julieta Lanteri worked to make things better for others. Sick people, poor people, people who had no one else to stand up for them.’

Isobel could see that she had annoyed Harriet, and she waited for the backlash.

‘Well bully for… Julius Caesar, or whatever her name is,’ said Harriet dismissively. ‘But what someone we’ve never heard of does in South America hasn’t got much to do with us, has it girls?’ She looked at the other pupils, and Isobel feared that most of the others would be afraid to defy Harriet. Then she had an idea. It was risky, but it might pay off. ‘Can I make a suggestion, Miss?’ she said turning to the teacher.

‘What’s that?’

‘We’ve been talking about women looking for the vote. So, why don’t we vote on this?’

‘Vote on what?’ said Harriet.

‘On whether we think Julieta Lanteri was right or wrong. A secret ballot of course, seeing as that’s how it’s done in proper elections.’

Isobel could almost see Harriet’s mind working as she realised that a secret ballot would make it harder for other class members to go against her and her gang.

‘No need for all the fuss of a secret ballot,’ said Harriet breezily. ‘If we have to vote on this, let’s just do a show of hands.’

Isobel turned to Miss Taylor, who...